All My Firsts Are You (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 69

“Ah… I really can’t let you go…”

My already firm resolution now felt hollow. On the phone screen, a message I’d written long ago still remained untouched in its place. Countless sighs had settled onto the screen only to scatter again. In the meantime, Jun had called several times, but I hadn’t answered once.

Even this behavior was hard to justify now. Jun was departing for Japan tomorrow. Rather than gaining his understanding, my actions only heightened his anxiety.

And yet, despite knowing all this, I still couldn’t translate what my mind understood into actual action.

The words typed inside the little box on the screen felt distant from me. While I didn’t want to part with you, the sentences themselves desperately pleaded for our separation.

Regardless of Jun’s will, this single sentence would sever our bond sharply. And it wouldn’t just be our connection that got cut—it would be both our hearts, which had held each other so dearly. Even if we carried the wounds from that severance with us, there’d be no way for us to ever reconnect. Not the two of us.

My thumb hovered hesitantly above the screen, less than a centimeter away from the send button, yet closing that tiny gap felt impossibly difficult.

I never imagined I’d be the one to say “let’s break up” first…

I squeezed my eyelids shut tightly, then opened them again. There was no way to suppress my wavering true feelings except by finalizing this breakup. I pressed the send button. The sensation of my finger touching it felt unreal.

I grew afraid at the thought that Jun would soon read this message. I couldn’t even bear imagining the exact moment your eyes landed on those words.

I pulled the blanket over my head completely and lay down on the bed. Tears slid down both sides of my face. I didn’t even feel like wiping them away.

They didn’t seem like the kind of tears that would stop easily anyway.

I picked a Japanese restaurant near my neighborhood—somewhere we could have dinner with a bit of alcohol—as the meeting spot for Jung Eun, who said she’d come straight to my area after work.

Meanwhile, my phone remained strangely quiet. If your phone calls had rung frantically and messages kept piling up one by one, that would’ve been painful enough—but this silence somehow brought a quiet sense of unease instead.

I was the one who brought up breaking up first, yet I suddenly wanted to call you right away and ask: “Are you okay? Did I hurt your heart again? Please, even if just a little… could you hurt for me?”—an utterly selfish plea I longed to make.

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