Morning comes before I'm ready for it. The alarm rings once, but I'm already awake. I didn't sleep well. My mind kept circling around work, the things I left unfinished yesterday, and the strange silence in the car when Suha brushed off my question about Jungho. I wanted to believe her, but something about her tone kept sitting in the back of my mind.
The room is dim when I sit up. My body feels heavier than it should. I pull myself out of bed and head to the bathroom, going through the same routine I've done for years. Cold water on my face. Straighten my tie. Fix my cuffs. Make sure my expression is calm enough to pass as normal.
When I step out of the bedroom, I smell something warm coming from the kitchen. I follow it and find Suha standing by the stove, flipping something on a pan. She's focused, hair tucked behind her ear, expression soft in the morning light.
"You're up early," I say.
She looks back with a small smile. "I figured you'd skip breakfast again if I didn't cook."
"I wouldn't have skipped."
"You always say that," she says, sliding eggs onto a plate.
I pull out a chair and sit. She places a simple breakfast in front of me—eggs, rice, and a little soup. Nothing fancy. But warm. Homemade. Something I haven't had in years unless Mina forced me to eat with her.
"Thanks," I say.
She sits across from me, watching a bit too closely. "Eat slowly. You're always rushing."
"I have a lot to do."
"That doesn't mean you have to inhale your food."
I huff a quiet breath. "I don't inhale."
"You kind of do."
Her tone is soft enough that it doesn't bother me. I take my time today, mostly because she keeps looking at me like she'll scold me if I don't. Halfway through, I catch her studying me with a thoughtful, worried expression.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing." She looks away. "Just making sure you're okay."
I don't answer. I don't know what "okay" even means anymore. Instead, I finish eating, grab my coat, and head toward the door. Suha follows me there, leaning against the frame.
"Have a good day, Jay."
I nod. "You too."
I'm halfway down the hall when she calls out, "And… don't overwork yourself."
I freeze for half a second but don't look back. "I'll try."
But we both know I won't.
The office is quiet when I arrive. Most people aren't here yet. I make my way to my floor and settle behind my desk, opening the files I didn't finish last night. I start working immediately. Numbers blur together. Budgets. Approvals. Schedules. Deadlines closing in on each other like they're trying to crush me.
I'm already buried when my father's assistant knocks and steps inside.
"Sir, the chairman is asking for you."
My stomach tightens. Of course he is.
I straighten my jacket, leave my office, and walk to the top floor. I knock then open the door. That should've been the first warning.
My father sits behind his desk, glasses low on his nose, a thick stack of documents in front of him. He doesn't look up when I enter.
"Sit," he says.
I sit.
He pushes the pile toward me. "You will handle these. Today."
I glance at the papers—more than I've seen him give anyone in a single day. "I already have a full schedule. If these need to be sorted, I can assign—"
"No." His voice is sharp enough to cut. "Your brother is already handling the international proposals. Your sister is busy preparing for her exam week. You are the only one who isn't performing to the level I need."
My jaw clenches.
His eyes lift, cold and impatient. "Don't argue. Just get it done."
There it is. The same tone he's used my whole life. Like I'm a tool. Like I'm just an extension of his business. Like nothing I do will ever be enough.
I take the stack.
"Understood," I say.
He nods, dismissing me.
I walk back to my office with the weight of it all crushing down harder with every step.
By the time noon comes, I haven't eaten. I haven't moved from my desk except to grab more documents. My vision is starting to blur a little. It's nothing new. I keep working.
I don't realize someone entered my office until a hand lands on the top of the paperwork I'm holding.
I look up.
Jungho stands there, staring at me with a frown. "What is all this?"
"Work."
He picks up the stack and flips through it. "He dumped all this on you?"
I don't say anything.
His jaw ticks. "Jay… this is three people's workload."
"I can manage."
"You can't," he says simply. "No one can."
"I've handled worse."
"That doesn't mean you should."
I reach for another file, but he puts a hand on my wrist, stopping me. His voice lowers. "Hey. Look at me."
I look up.
"You're exhausted. You haven't eaten. You look like you're going to pass out."
"I'm fine."
"You're lying."
"Hyung—"
"No." His tone hardens. "I'm not letting you do this. I'm giving you the rest of the day off."
"You don't have to—"
"I'm not asking for permission." He grabs the paperwork off my desk before I can stop him. "You can take tomorrow off too if you need it."
The pressure in my chest tightens. "I have deadlines."
"I'll handle them. Mira will handle them. The whole damn team will handle them. You're going home."
I stand. "I don't need—"
"You do." His voice is steady, unshakable. "Jay, you don't see yourself. But I do. I've watched you burn yourself down since we were kids. I'm not letting it happen again."
Something inside me twists at the word "again."
He softens a little. "Go home. Rest. That's an order."
I stare at him for a long moment. He's serious. Completely serious.
I finally let out a slow breath. "Fine."
He nods once. "Good. I'll get someone to drive you."
"I can drive myself."
"No. If you fall asleep behind the wheel, I'll never forgive you."
I almost argue again, but the truth is, I am tired. More than tired. My body feels like it's running on fumes.
"Alright," I say quietly.
He puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing once. "Go. And Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't come back until you actually rest."
I don't trust myself to respond, so I just nod and leave the office.
The ride home is quiet. I rest my head against the window, watching the city blur by. My mind keeps drifting back to my father's voice, sharp and cold. Then to Suha's worried eyes. Then to Jungho's hand gripping my wrist like he was afraid I'd collapse if he let go.
When I reach home, I hear movement inside. Suha steps out from the kitchen and looks surprised to see me.
"You're home? Did something happen?"
"I got the day off," I say, taking off my jacket.
She walks closer. "Are you sick?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Her brows pinch with worry, but she doesn't push. She just nods slowly and says, "Then rest. I'll make something to eat."
I sit on the couch, leaning back, closing my eyes. My body feels heavier than it did this morning. Maybe Jungho was right. Maybe I needed a break. Just a small one.
As I sit there, listening to Suha move around the kitchen, something in my chest loosens a little.
Maybe… just for today… I can breathe.
Just a little.