chapter 3

Noah’s POV

I barely slept that night.

Not because of the hospital bed.

Not because my head still hurt every five business days.

But because my entire life apparently made no sense anymore.

Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing flashes.

Tiny broken pieces of memories that disappeared before I could fully understand them.

Ethan smiling.

Rain.

Warm hands.

A voice calling my name softly.

Then that stupid picture of us with matching rings.

I groaned and pulled the blanket over my face.

This had to be some kind of psychological attack.

Because there was absolutely no way twenty-year-old me would willingly fall in love with Ethan Vale.

The same Ethan Vale who stole three girlfriends and most of my remaining sanity.

Impossible.

And yet…

Every time I looked at him, my chest reacted before my brain did.

Which was deeply annoying.

A knock interrupted my suffering.

Before I could answer, the hospital room door suddenly opened.

“NOAH!”

My mother rushed in dramatically like I had returned from war instead of a three-day coma.

“Oh no,” I whispered weakly.

My father followed behind her looking exhausted, while my older brother casually walked in holding coffee like this was a social visit.

And wow.

He looked old.

Actually old.

I stared at him in horror.

“Jae,” I said slowly, “what happened to your face?”

My brother blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You look thirty-five.”

His eye twitched immediately. “I’m thirty-two.”

I gasped loudly. “THIRTY-TWO?!”

“Oh my God,” my mother muttered while covering her face.

I pointed accusingly at my brother. “When did this happen? Last week you were still annoying and youthful.”

“You lost ten years, idiot,” he deadpanned. “Time continued without your permission.”

Rude.

Very rude.

Still… hearing it from family somehow made everything feel more real.

My mother immediately sat beside my bed and grabbed my face dramatically.

“My baby,” she sighed emotionally.

“Mom, I’m literally twenty—”

“You are thirty.”

“I reject that information.”

Jae snorted loudly.

Traitor.

Dad finally stepped forward, relief obvious in his expression despite how calm he tried to look.

“You scared us,” he said quietly.

The guilt hit unexpectedly.

Because suddenly I realized…

While I had only experienced three missing days…

They had experienced ten years with me.

Ten years I couldn’t remember.

The room became quieter after that.

Too quiet.

I hated emotional silence.

So naturally, I ruined it.

“Okay but seriously,” I said, looking at Jae again. “Why do you dress like somebody’s tired accountant now?”

“Because unlike you, some of us pay taxes.”

“That sounds fake.”

My mother laughed softly despite herself while Jae rolled his eyes.

God.

At least some things hadn’t changed.

Then a thought suddenly hit me.

A very important thought.

I sat up straighter immediately.

“Wait,” I said carefully. “What about piano?”

The room froze.

And immediately—

I knew something was wrong.

My stomach tightened.

I looked between them nervously.

“What?” I asked slowly. “What happened?”

Nobody answered immediately.

Which honestly should become illegal.

Finally, Dad sighed quietly.

“The accident ten years ago…” he began carefully, “it caused damage to your wrist.”

I blinked.

Then looked down at my right hand automatically.

No.

No no no.

“That’s not funny,” I said immediately.

“Nobody’s joking,” Jae answered softly this time.

I stared at my hand harder like disappointment alone could fix reality.

“But I practiced every day,” I whispered. “I was preparing for competitions.”

I remembered that clearly.

Piano wasn’t just a hobby.

It was everything.

Every spare second.

Every late-night practice.

Every dream I had for the future.

I swallowed hard.

“So what happened?”

Dad hesitated before answering.

“You tried rehabilitation for years,” he said carefully. “But your wrist never fully recovered.”

The words felt heavy.

Too heavy.

“No…” I whispered.

“You still play sometimes,” Mom said quickly. “Just not professionally.”

Professionally.

The word hurt more than I expected.

Because all my life, that was the plan.

Noah Kim.

Concert pianist.

Not—

“What do I do now?” I asked quietly.

Another silence.

I hated this family tradition.

Jae finally answered.

“You own a café downtown.”

I stared at him blankly.

“…what?”

“You own a café.”

“A café?”

“Yes.”

I blinked repeatedly.

Out of all possible futures…

That was not one I expected.

“I make coffee now?”

“You own the place,” Jae corrected.

“Still feels disrespectful to my artistic talent.”

“You named half the drinks after songs,” he added.

I paused.

“…actually that sounds like something I’d do.”

Dad smiled slightly for the first time that morning.

“You built it yourself,” he said quietly. “After you stopped performing.”

Something twisted painfully in my chest again.

Because I couldn’t even remember losing my dream.

Did I cry?

Did I break down?

Did Ethan know?

The thought appeared so suddenly that it annoyed me immediately.

Why did my brain keep connecting things back to him?

As if summoned by my emotional instability—

The door opened again later that evening.

And Ethan walked in.

Of course.

Because apparently this man had developed a subscription plan to my suffering.

Mom immediately brightened upon seeing him.

“Ethan.”

My eyes widened instantly.

Wait.

Why did my mother sound so comfortable around him?

Suspicious behavior.

Very suspicious.

Ethan greeted my parents calmly before his eyes landed on me.

And annoyingly—

That look appeared again.

That soft look.

Like I was something fragile.

I frowned immediately.

Stop that.

“You came back,” I muttered.

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am disappointed.”

Jae snorted into his drink.

Coward.

Eventually, my family left after threatening to return tomorrow with homemade soup.

Which honestly felt more dangerous than comforting.

And somehow…

I ended up back on the rooftop again with Ethan.

At this point, the rooftop was basically becoming our emotionally unstable meeting spot.

The evening air was colder tonight.

I crossed my arms tightly while leaning against the railing.

“You could’ve told me,” I said suddenly.

Ethan looked over. “About what?”

“My hand.”

A shadow crossed his face immediately.

“You had enough to process already.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Well surprise. I processed badly.”

He stayed quiet.

Then quietly said, “You worked hard after the accident.”

I looked away.

“I was supposed to become a pianist.”

“You were.”

“Not anymore.”

The words hurt more out loud.

The silence afterward felt painful.

Then frustration suddenly exploded out of me.

“You know what’s crazy?” I snapped. “Everyone keeps talking about my life like it belongs to somebody else!”

Ethan’s expression tightened.

“I can’t remember anything,” I continued angrily. “Apparently I lost my dream, opened a café, dated my enemy, and somehow everyone expects me to just accept it!”

“You don’t have to accept it immediately.”

“Easy for you to say!” I shot back. “You remember everything!”

That hit him harder than I expected.

For a second, he looked genuinely exhausted.

Then quietly—

“I remember enough for both of us.”

The anger in my chest stumbled slightly.

Damn him.

Why did he keep saying emotionally devastating things so casually?

I looked away quickly.

“This is still weird.”

“I know.”

“And I still don’t understand why I dated you.”

That actually made him laugh softly.

A real laugh this time.

Small.

Warm.

Dangerously attractive.

I stared at him suspiciously.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“A little.”

“Evil.”

“You liked me anyway.”

“I clearly had brain damage.”

To my horror, Ethan smiled again.

And something in my chest reacted immediately.

Traitorous organ.

The wind suddenly blew harder, making me shiver slightly.

Before I could complain, Ethan stepped closer.

Too close.

My heartbeat immediately became suspicious.

Then—

He hugged me.

Just like that.

Simple.

Natural.

Like he had done it a thousand times before.

And the second his arms wrapped around me—

Something inside me froze.

Not fear.

Not discomfort.

Something worse.

Familiarity.

Warmth spread through my chest so suddenly it almost hurt.

My body reacted before my thoughts did, instinctively relaxing against him for half a second.

Half a second too long.

Panic hit immediately after.

I pulled away so fast I nearly tripped.

“Nope,” I said quickly.

Ethan blinked once.

“Nope?”

“Absolutely not.”

I pointed at him dramatically while backing away.

“You are emotionally confusing and I don’t trust it.”

For the first time all day—

Ethan genuinely smiled.

And somehow…

That scared me more than anything else.

So naturally—

I ran.

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