Pretending to Be the Lover of an Esper C28

Chapter 28

What did Taeon want to talk about?
Was it to ask why I’d acted suspiciously earlier? To mock me, saying my face had looked idiotic today? Or maybe—to finally settle things? …Settle what, exactly?

Even after getting back to the dorm, I couldn’t stop feeling uneasy. His unexpected request to meet, paired with that uncharacteristically polite “thank you” earlier, had thrown me completely off balance.

I was so nervous that I’d bathed, changed clothes, spent an hour watching cute animal videos, binge-watched season one of a foreign drama, texted high school friends, and still—despite lying around half the afternoon—I couldn’t calm down enough to sleep.

“Guide Ji.”

And now I could even hear his voice, knocking on my door like an auditory hallucination.

“Guide Ji, are you asleep? Guide Ji.”
“Huh? N-no, I’m awake!”

My eyes flew open—and with them, my sense of dread.

“Ah!”

In my haste, I tangled my legs in the blanket and pitched headfirst to the floor with a loud thud.

“…Guide Ji?”
“Just—just a minute!”

I kicked off the blanket and stumbled upright, running a hand frantically through my bed hair—sticking up like a hedgehog—and yanked open the door before I could think to smooth it down.

“I must’ve dozed off.”
“…I see.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“So… what did you want to talk about?”

I nearly asked how the job with Yeonwoo had gone, but caught myself. My brain was still half-asleep.

He didn’t answer right away; instead, he kept staring at the floor. I’d begun to notice that—it was a habit of his. Whenever he was thinking or hesitating, his gaze dropped first.

“Let’s talk in the living room,” he finally said.

As I followed behind, I pressed my hand to my ridiculous bedhead, trying to flatten it through sheer force of will.

Like before, he sat at the small dinner table. I mirrored him, the silence between us gradually thickening. I knew he wanted to talk, but since he was the one who’d asked for the meeting, all I could do was wait.

“First of all…”

His low voice broke the tension at last. His arms rested loosely on the table, fingers interlaced.

“I owe you an apology. For yesterday.”

My heart lurched; that was the last thing I’d expected to hear from him.

But there was only one thing he could mean.
I clenched my hands on my knees.

“Yesterday… meaning?”
“The way I refused your guiding.”
“Ah…”

I’d almost forgotten that incident—but hearing it again reignited the resentment buried under exhaustion.

“I know I acted poorly. I was uncooperative.”
“It’s fine. I… get it. I mean, it must be uncomfortable, right? Feeling relaxed every time someone you don’t like guides you? Most people can’t stomach that.”

Even I could hear how sharp my voice sounded. But it wasn’t a lie—it was simply the ugly truth.

“…You’re right that I don’t think fondly of you,” he said quietly.

I knew that already, yet hearing him admit it so bluntly made something twist inside me—irritation? Sadness? Both.

“What I did was wrong. I know that clearly. I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head.

I should’ve felt satisfied—vindicated, even—but instead, an inexplicable heaviness settled in my chest. Maybe it was because I’d once bowed the same way to him when it came to Taeyoung-hyung¹. The memory of guilt and humiliation stabbed at me again.

Whatever anger I’d felt melted away, leaving only a disorienting tension.

“If you think punishment’s necessary, go ahead and file a report. I’m not apologizing to ask for leniency.”
“I…”

My breath caught suddenly. It wasn’t dread, exactly—more like discomfort rising from somewhere I couldn’t name. Not suspicion, either.

“And just so you know,” he continued, “my refusal yesterday had nothing to do with retaliation for your earlier question. As I said before, I’ve been in poor mental condition lately—controlling my emotions has been difficult.”

I hated this—the way he was speaking now. The gentleness in his tone made my skin crawl.

“I should’ve handled it myself instead of taking it out on you. That’s completely my fault. I’m truly sorry, Guide Ji.”

His eyes met mine directly. The impulse to flee hit me like lightning, restrained only by force of will.

Because I knew that look too well.

Whenever he looked at me, there was always something in his eyes—a faint contempt, subtle but unmistakable. Like someone humoring a fool who didn’t know his place.

But not tonight.

“It’s fine,” I managed. “Nobody’s at their best every day. It wasn’t… that big a deal.”

Yet his gaze now was almost painful—it brimmed with guilt, not disdain. No trace of disgust, no condescension. Not even the exasperation of a man degrading himself to apologize.

Without thinking, I spoke again, the words barely conscious.
“Let’s just… chalk it up to a small misunderstanding. I never planned on reporting anything. So don’t worry.”

And in that moment, I understood the peculiar discomfort twisting through my chest.

Lee Taeon, who had every reason to despise me, did not.
Not now.

He was unraveling a knot I’d thought too tangled to ever undo. Quietly, earnestly—without blaming me, without equating my faults with his own.
He admitted the harm he’d done and asked for forgiveness with unflinching honesty.

He wasn’t trying to cancel out guilt with mine.
He wasn’t dodging responsibility.
He was simply being fair.

Lee Taeon wasn’t as cruel as I’d thought.
He wasn’t even that cold.

“I accept your apology. Also… even though you didn’t mean it that way, I understand it was unpleasant for you. I’ll be more careful not to intrude into your privacy again.”

Taeon was a good person. That realization unsettled me deeply.

Taeon was a good person.
And I—foolishly starved for kindness—was always too quick to grow attached to anyone who treated me with basic decency.

“You’re forgiving me, then?”
“Well, you said it wasn’t intentional. And I’m not that inflexible. Honestly… I didn’t expect you to be the one to say this first.”

I would never be able to hate him again. Not after this.
Not when he was—impossibly—good.

“Thank you for being understanding, Guide Ji.”
“Mm. Then… how about we call it even before this gets too awkward?”

“Yes. Let’s.”

And because he was decent enough not to twist the knife—not to let my past mistakes balance his—I felt weak with self-loathing.

Unlike me—who still resented him for holding my secret even as I wallowed in guilt—he was calm, honest, better.

It hurt unbearably.
Why did it hurt? Why did forgiveness sting more than contempt? Why did his apology make me feel so hollow, so ashamed?

Why had I ruined everything from the start?

“I think that’s settled, so I’ll turn in now. I was actually asleep before you knocked, and I’m still kind of drowsy…”

Our relationship had always been one of hierarchy. I’d wronged him deeply—his most precious person—and he knew it.

And yet, he never exploited that. Never used it against me. Never bragged or retaliated.

“Of course. Thank you for hearing me out. Go rest.”

I could never distance myself from him again; I knew that now.
So inevitably, someday—somehow—I would come to care for him.

That inevitability was terrifying.

“Yeah. You too—rest up, especially after working the weekend.”

And when that happened, when cold reality came back around, I’d regret it deeply—dragged down all over again by hatred for myself, for being the one who’d ruined everything in the first place.

Hiding my trembling hands behind my back, I hurried from the room, forcing my neck stiff so I wouldn’t look back even by accident.

Not because I didn’t want to see him—
but because I genuinely didn’t think I could.

¹ Taeyoung-hyung: Taeon’s elder cousin and Ji Yunseong’s former partner