Jaemin had come a long way since the day he first decided to prioritize his own recovery. Months of therapy, medication, and intense self-reflection had slowly transformed him. His body was in peak condition, his mind clearer than ever, and his work performance impeccable. He was beginning to feel like a person again—no longer the hollow shell he had been for so long.
But despite all of his progress, there was still one thing that gnawed at him: Sooah.
No matter what he did, no matter how much effort he put into helping her, nothing had changed. The gentle approach hadn't worked. The demanding approach hadn't worked. She remained trapped in her mental prison, her refusal to face the outside world only growing stronger with each passing day.
Jaemin had to try something new. Something bold.
It wasn't a decision he made lightly. He sat in his office one evening, staring at the papers on his desk, lost in thought. His gaze wandered to the picture of Sooah he kept on his desk. Her eyes were different in that photo—full of life, hope, and dreams. He couldn't forget that woman, the one who had captured his heart before everything fell apart. But now, the woman before him was a shadow of that person, fading further with each passing day.
He could feel his resolve weakening, the guilt creeping in again. He needed to do something, anything, to break through her walls.
And then it hit him—what if the problem wasn't that he was too distant, too stern with her, or too focused on fixing her in the wrong way? What if the problem was that he had been so focused on what was wrong with her that he had forgotten to give her what she wanted?
Jaemin had always approached the situation with Sooah with the same mindset: he needed to help her face her fears, confront her pain, and overcome her mental instability. But what if that wasn't the answer? What if, instead of pushing her, he simply gave her what she craved—affection, comfort, care, even if it meant bending to her every whim? Maybe, just maybe, giving her the very things she thought she wanted would be the key to drawing her out of her shell.
So, Jaemin made a plan.
When he returned home that night, Sooah was sitting in the living room as usual, staring at the blank television screen, her posture defeated, her eyes vacant. Jaemin walked over and knelt beside her, his presence gentle but firm.
"Sooah," he began, his voice soft. "You've been in this house for so long now, and I understand you're struggling. But I want you to know, I'm here. I'm not leaving you."
She barely glanced at him, her gaze flitting briefly before retreating again.
Jaemin swallowed the frustration building in his chest. He had to remember his new approach. He couldn't force her to change; he had to make her feel comfortable, make her feel like she wasn't alone. She needed the reassurance, the comfort she had been craving.
"I know it's hard," he continued, his tone soothing. "But I've been thinking, and I think it's time to try something different. How about we go out? Just the two of us. We don't need to talk about therapy right now. I just want us to spend some time together. I've been thinking about taking you somewhere nice, maybe to see your family. I know you've been avoiding them, but maybe it'll be good for you to reconnect."
She stiffened slightly, a subtle shift in her body language that told him she was listening. But then, as expected, her voice came out low and shaky.
"I don't want to go anywhere," she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the screen. "I can't... I can't face them, Jaemin. I'm not ready."
Jaemin smiled softly, trying not to let the frustration seep into his words. He reached out and gently touched her hand, his grip light but reassuring.
"I understand," he said, his voice tender. "But I want to make it easier for you. I want you to feel like you can take the next step when you're ready. If that means taking it slow, then we will. I'll stay right here with you. I'll help you with whatever you need."
Sooah hesitated, looking at him with uncertainty in her eyes. But Jaemin could see the faintest glimmer of something—maybe hope, maybe trust. She wasn't rejecting him entirely, not like before.
The next day, Jaemin kept his word. He showered her with kindness, giving her the things she'd been asking for: attention, physical closeness, emotional support. He went out of his way to create a safe environment for her, one where she didn't feel pressured to perform or to change. He took her to her favorite places, allowed her to rest when she needed it, and spent his nights simply holding her, offering her the affection she seemed to crave.
And slowly, something started to shift.
Sooah, while still hesitant, began to respond to his care. She didn't withdraw as much as she had before. She began to speak more, even if only in whispers, telling him about her fears, her frustrations. Jaemin listened without judgment, offering words of comfort when she needed them, but never pushing her to do anything she wasn't ready for.
A week later, after one particularly tender conversation, Sooah surprised him by asking, almost timidly, "Do you think... do you think I could try therapy again?"
Jaemin's heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for this moment—the moment she was willing to take the first step toward healing on her own. But instead of responding immediately, he paused, letting the weight of her words settle.
"If you're ready, Sooah," he said gently, "I'll be right there with you. But only if you feel ready."
She nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope. "Maybe... maybe I can try."
Jaemin wasn't sure if this new approach would work in the long term, but for the first time in a while, he felt a spark of hope. By giving Sooah the space to make her own decisions, he had broken through her walls, if only a little. The path to recovery was still long and uncertain, but for the first time, Jaemin felt that they might be able to walk it together.
It wasn't about fixing her or controlling her anymore. It was about allowing her the freedom to heal on her own terms, knowing that, for the first time, he was truly by her side.