Jul hadn’t meant to sit beside another man. Not deliberately. Not spitefully. It was simply the seat offered. One chair away from the only exit, away from the gaze that had tracked her across the rooftop like heat without flame.

Jul didn’t take the 4am flight. She stayed, not because it was easy, but because silence wasn’t closure. Wrapped in soft sheets, she faced the man who never said enough. Han opened up for the first time—his name, his past, his fear of hurting her. But Jul wanted more than confessions. She wanted clarity. When the world buzzed with distractions, she asked the only question that mattered. No more half-love. No more hiding.