#14. The Meeting

Was this really all right?

The same question ran through her mind countless times, but she could never find an answer.

In the end, she could not stop her heart—or her feet—from leading her back to his clinic.

Seo-wan lingered outside the door.

She had driven here as though under a spell, yet she could not bring herself to open it. It felt like a final warning from somewhere deep within her.

After she had been hovering there for some time, the middle-aged nurse spotted her and greeted her warmly.

The nurse moved briskly through the preparations for her appointment, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Before Seo-wan knew it, she was quietly opening the consultation room door.

He looked at her without speaking, as though he had known she would return.

This time, Seo-wan greeted him first.

“I’d like to continue our sessions.”

Seated at his desk, Min-gyu met her gaze.

“You’re back.”

She nodded and sat down. Min-gyu moved easily to put the kettle on.

“I thought we’d try chrysanthemum tea this time. It should help you sleep.”

He carefully held out a cup, and she took it from him.

For a moment, his fingertips brushed her hand.

Neither said anything, but a charged, delicate silence settled between them.

Seo-wan tried to look composed as she accepted the cup, but she could not control the tingling in her fingertips.

To dispel the unfamiliar sensation, she repeatedly tightened and loosened her grip around it.

When she raised the cup toward her face, steam wafted into her nose. She had expected a fragrant floral scent, but instead caught a deep, earthy aroma.

“I’ll have to buy some on my way home.”

She spoke first, trying to ease the awkwardness.

Her head was lowered, her eyes fixed on the cup. Min-gyu answered without taking his gaze off her.

“I’m glad you seem to like it.”

He smiled gently, revealing a deep dimple in his right cheek.

His smile was much more relaxed this time.

It looked genuine.

“The medication worked. Thanks to you, I slept deeply for the first time in months.”

“I’m glad you slept well.”

Min-gyu set his cup on the desk, his gaze remaining on her.

“Thank you. Thanks to you, I know coming here wasn’t a mistake. That’s a relief.”

Her smile was shy. Min-gyu tilted his head as he looked at her.

“Well, if you say so, Detective, perhaps I’m a decent doctor after all.”

Seo-wan took a sip to hide the smile that threatened to escape.

The tea was still hot in her mouth as she carefully set the cup down.

“I’ve had some time to sort through my thoughts since that day. And yes. You were right. About all those cases weighing on me.”

Her courage allowed him to take a significant step closer to her.

“I understand police officers are trained to hide their emotions. But if you keep suppressing them, sooner or later, they’ll burst out.”

“What do I do then? Do you know how to keep that from happening?”

Seo-wan’s gaze drifted to her cup. The tea had cooled a little.

“Well, most people only come to me after it’s already happened. But you found the courage to come before that, Detective Choi. I believe you’ll be able to overcome this soon.”

“Do you really think so?”

“All treatment begins with facing yourself and acknowledging your vulnerability. I’m confident you’re already halfway to recovery.”

“Do I really have the right to feel at peace?”

“Do you feel guilty in some way?”

“Yes. A little. As though I’m the only one getting to live a good life…”

“Why? You’re not the perpetrator.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I catch myself enjoying good food, laughing and chatting with my colleagues, and it makes my skin crawl.”

“And those anxieties become more intense when you try to sleep.”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll give you some homework today.”

“Homework?”

“Before bed tonight, go back through the files of the cases you’ve solved.”

“Oh…”

“There must be people who have found their smiles again, who have returned to their everyday lives, because of you. And I’ll prescribe the same sleeping medication.”

“I’ll do my best. I’ve never skipped my homework.”

He laughed.

“That’s right. Homework is a must.”

The boundary between them was gradually fading.

For a moment, they sat in silence, smiling.

“Um… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s my job. Next time, I’d like to learn more about you.”

“Sorry?”

She must have sounded more startled than she intended. Min-gyu seemed embarrassed by her reaction.

Both their faces had reddened, though neither was aware of it.

“Please don’t misunderstand. I mean I’d like to hear more of your story as your doctor.”

“Oh! Yes. Of course.”

They echoed each other’s awkward laughter.

When the session was over, Seo-wan opened the door to leave.

She could feel his persistent gaze on her, but she made herself ignore it and stepped out.

As soon as the door closed, Min-gyu opened a drawer and took out his notebook. He turned to the page marked with a yellow sticky note.

[202X.02.XX — Choi Seo-wan. Detective, Violent Crimes Team, Metropolitan Investigation Unit. PTSD? Sleep deprivation? Tendency to suppress emotions.]

[202X.03.XX — Sensitive to her surroundings and emotions. Anxiety-related insomnia. Zolpidem prescribed.]