Confessions from our Seoul

Na-ri and Jae-Hyun had been the perfect couple. Fiercely in love and passionate for each other. They were an intense couple and seemed that they would be together until the end, 

But just a year ago the relationship ended abruptly. Following a brutal argument, Jae-Hyun walked out and that was the end of that. 

Two weeks later, Na-ri learned he was dating someone else. 

Heartbroken and stubborn, Na-ri threw herself into her work as a detective, doing anything to forget the man who had torn down her walls and buried himself deep within her soul.

And then she had an accident…

Now, as part of her rehabilitation, Na-ri was standing in a studio in a gym face to face with the one person she wasn’t ready to see:

Kwang Jae-Hyun. 

Chapter One

Na-ri stared up at the neon sign of the gym, the bustling sound of downtown Itaewon forgotten as she continued to decide on whether or not she would be stepping inside. 

It had been six months since she had been hit by a car while chasing a suspect and now she was close to the end of her recovery. Her physical therapist had recommended this particular gym as their trainers had expertise in building up strength and resilience in people who had suffered injuries like Na-ri had.

She sighed and forced herself through the door. If coming here for a few months meant she would get off of desk duty quicker, she could do it. 

"Hi, I'm Kim Na-ri." She spoke to the receptionist. "I have an induction session with a trainer booked for 8pm."

The receptionist checked the screen, gave a polite nod, and pointed towards a heavy double door at the back of the corridor. "Down there, training room three. Your trainer is already waiting for you."

Na-ri pushed the heavy door open, stepping into a spacious, dimly lit private gym. The air inside felt heavy, humid, and carried the sharp, metallic tang of ozone and iron. 

At the far end of the room, illuminated by a single overhead light, stood Kwang Jae-Hyun. 

Nar-ri froze, her heart jumping into her throat when she saw him, eyes widening and lips parting as a quiet gasp left them.

He was alone, standing before a heavy leather punching bag and his back was turned. The muscles of his naked shoulders and spine rippled under his sweat-slicked skin as he threw a brutal, rhythmic combination. Each strike hit the leather with a sound like low thunder, echoing off the concrete walls. His right arm, covered in a pattern of dark tattoos stretching onto his chest, flexed with every hard impact. 

Hearing the click of the door, Jae-Hyun didn't stop immediately. He landed one last, sharp hook that sent the heavy bag swaying wildly, before finally catching it with a single gloved hand. 

Slowly, he turned around, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. His dark eyes, cold and entirely indifferent, locked onto hers making the air in the room suddenly dissipate leaving a vacuum. 

He didn't smile. He didn't show surprise. He just let his gaze slowly run down her frame before looking back up at her face.

"Kim Na-ri," he said, his voice deep, flat, and devoid of any warmth. "You're late."

She blinked. "I'm not." She glanced at her watch. "I'm exactly on time."

Jae-Hyun didn't bother looking at his own wrist. Instead, he unfastened the velcro straps of his boxing gloves with his teeth, pulling them off one by one and letting them drop onto a nearby bench. He walked over to a small metal table, picking up a bottle of water. 

"Your watch is slow," he said flatly, taking a slow drink. His throat moved as he swallowed, his dark eyes never leaving her face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And even if it isn't, in my sessions, on time is late."

He tossed the half-empty water bottle onto the bench next to his gloves. The sound of plastic hitting wood echoed sharply in the quiet, humid room. He stepped closer, stopping just outside her personal space. Up close, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp smell of sweat and the gym's ozone. 

He folded his arms over his chest, his tattooed right arm tensing as he looked down at her. There was no warmth in his gaze, no recognition of their past—just a cold, assessing scrutiny.

"You're here for rehabilitation," he stated, his tone businesslike and entirely devoid of emotion. "The receptionist said you had a car accident. Lower back and leg issues?"

She pursed her lips together. There was that coldness that she hadn't missed when they were together. It had been especially frigid in the last few days of their relationship and clearly hadn’t thawed any over the past 12 months since they broke up.  

She pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on the situation at hand. 

"I will keep that in mind." She replied mostly to herself. "That is correct. The physical therapist helping me with my rehabilitation recommended this gym."

Jae-Hyun gave a single, slow nod, his expression remaining entirely unreadable. He walked past her toward a rack of resistance bands and light weights, his footsteps quiet on the rubber flooring. 

"They recommended this place because we don't treat you like you're made of glass," he said, turning back to face her. He looped a black resistance band around his palm. "But if you're looking for someone to hold your hand and feel sorry for you, you walked into the wrong room."

He stepped back into her space, his dark eyes scanning down to her legs, then back up to her face. The coldness in his demeanor was almost tangible, a sharp contrast to the humid warmth of the room.

"Let's see what we're working with," Jae-Hyun continued, his voice flat. He pointed toward an adjustable bench nearby. "Sit down there. We'll start with a basic mobility test for your hip and lower back. Don't push past any sharp pain—I don't need you breaking down on my floor."