Chapter 35. Even a One-Sided Love Has Pride

Taeseong’s gaze lingered on Haeyoung’s lips for a moment.

“What are you doing?” she repeated sharply.

Her cutting voice snapped him back to reality, and he sprang upright.

“I—I was checking your temperature.”

Still consumed by heat and adrenaline, Taeseong stammered.

His heart thumped wildly, and his body flushed. He looked away, exhaled slowly, and swallowed.

Finally gaining a sliver of composure, he took a step back, as if trying to physically distance himself from Haeyoung.

Then, breaking the silence, he spoke low and firm across the room.

“…Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

She asked calmly, not meeting his gaze.

Taeseong clenched his fists and clarified.

“For… checking your temperature with my forehead without asking.”

Haeyoung stared blankly at his clenched hands, then slowly lifted her eyes.

“And for anything else?”

Her voice was composed, yet cold. It forced him to turn toward her.

Finally, their eyes met again—and in that moment, he realized how shallow his earlier apology had been.

“…I’m sorry for breaking our promise yesterday.”

Even with that sincere apology, Haeyoung’s eyes softened with visible hurt.

She looked away.

“Why were you late?”

“…There was an accident. With Minju noona.”

Taeseong answered honestly.

At nineteen, he didn’t yet know that sometimes truth hurt more than lies.

He only knew how to walk in straight lines and believed that honesty was always the right path.

“I was on my way to see you when I got the call. She messaged me, then the call came…”

“You could’ve at least texted me.”

Haeyoung interrupted, bitterly smiling.

“I was writing one, but…”

“And then you forgot because of the call?”

She finished his sentence and locked eyes with him.

The sudden directness caught him off guard. He nodded dumbly.

“…Yeah.”

“Bad timing, I guess.”

Instead of probing further, Haeyoung nodded slowly.

She turned her body, placing her feet on the floor and speaking quietly while staring at her toes.

“It’s fine. I mean…”

Her voice trembled slightly—whether from weakness or something deeper, it was hard to tell.

But she quickly bit her lip and continued.

“I practiced alone. Ended up in the rain by chance.”

She looked up and forced a faint smile.

“The one who’s sick should come first.”

Even if that ‘sick person’ would come first… whether sick or not.

She swallowed the words and lowered her eyes again.

Because she chose to understand him, Taeseong had no more room to explain or justify himself.

His mouth felt dry and gritty.

Though her fever had gone down, it took Haeyoung three more days to fully recover.

She mostly stayed in bed, and Madam Jincheon brought meals directly to her room.

Naturally, her chances of running into Taeseong dropped too.

Lying there sick, she couldn’t stop thinking about him—but she didn’t want to face him.

She should’ve told him how upset and hurt she was when he apologized.

But instead, she pretended she was okay.

And that pretense began to rot inside her.

She had known a moment like this might come—but it still hurt.

On the weekend, Taeseong hovered in front of her room early in the morning, holding a basketball.

He wanted to make up for what happened last weekend.

But he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

Haeyoung’s recent calmness made it difficult to talk to her.

If only she’d gotten angry—then he could’ve apologized a dozen more times.

Instead, she smiled and said she was fine.

But her “I’m fine” left no room for him to step in.

Nervously bouncing his leg, he waited for her to come out so he could try again—apologize, teach her basketball, ease the awkwardness.

He hated this tense atmosphere between them.

He wanted to fix it—fast.

Finally, the doorknob turned.

The sound made his face light up, but Haeyoung’s expression was unreadable.

“…Did you need something?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, holding the basketball out with both hands.

“I was wondering if you wanted to pick up where we left off last weekend.”

Haeyoung looked at the ball briefly.

Its rough texture brought back memories—and those memories ruled her mind again.

Suppressing them, she gave a faint smile.

“Sorry, I’m meeting Gijun oppa for tutoring today.”

“Can’t you postpone it?”

“I already did last weekend. I really can’t this time.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the library.”

“Then maybe in the evening on a weekday…”

“Taeseong.”

She interrupted, seemingly gentle—but her voice was laced with firmness.

“I think I don’t need to learn basketball anymore.”

It was a soft, roundabout refusal—but a clear one.

She had no intention of playing basketball with him again.

Taeseong’s pupils wavered.

“But you said you wanted to win that bet.”

“I did… but now I think studying is more important.”

“……”

“Honestly, this is the right thing to do. That bet’s not worth gambling my future on.”

Her reasoning was calm and clear. Taeseong couldn’t argue.

She was right in every way.

Nothing was more important to a high school senior than studying.

A silly bet wasn’t worth sacrificing her future.

He understood that—logically.

“I’m late. I should go.”

“Why…”

But emotionally, he couldn’t accept it. And he couldn’t admit that, either.

“So you’re going to his place instead of him coming here?”

He resorted to a petty complaint.

“He said he’d treat me to something nice since I was sick last week.”

“……”

“And we figured it’d be refreshing to study outside for a change.”

Her eyes asked if she could leave now. Wordlessly, Taeseong stepped aside.

As she walked down the hallway and descended the stairs, he just stood there—staring at the basketball in his hands.

He had no idea how to untangle this mess.

His chest stung, but he couldn’t even name the emotion.

Crossing the courtyard, Haeyoung paused and looked up toward the second floor.

Taeseong’s face—apologetic, desperate—flashed vividly in her mind.

She could’ve given in to his “sorry” and his offer to teach her basketball again.

She liked him.

She wanted to be with him.

Being next to him made her feel like she owned the world.

But today, she was surprisingly calm—shockingly rational.

She turned her head forward again and placed a hand over her chest.

Thump, thump, thump.

Her heart beat a little faster, just as it always did around him.

It reminded her she still liked him—a lot.

And still, she had turned him down.

Because even a one-sided love has pride.

To love someone is to want to give them your all—but also to receive all of them in return.

Time flew for high school seniors.

Haeyoung poured herself into math, which wasn’t going as well as she hoped.

Taeseong, too, focused on his studies, embracing his role as a student.

Before they knew it, mid-June had arrived.

And today, Haeyoung had her basketball performance evaluation.