Chapter 10: Breakfast and Broken Promises
The morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows like melted honey, pooling across the worn wooden floors and catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air. Jennie lay still for a long moment, her cheek pressed against the pillow that smelled like him—that warm, spiced scent that had haunted her dreams for five years. She could hear movement in the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes, the hiss of something hitting a hot pan.
She pushed herself up, the oversized shirt she'd borrowed slipping off one shoulder, and padded barefoot toward the kitchen. The floor was warm under her feet, heated from the morning sun, and she paused in the doorway, watching him.
Leonid stood at the stove, his back to her, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants. The morning light traced the lines of his back, the muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moved, flipping an omelet with practiced ease. His prosthetic gleamed faintly where it caught the light, the metallic surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the scene.
She must have made a sound, because he turned, and his face softened when he saw her. "Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," she said. "Didn't want to waste a single moment of this."
He smiled—that rare, unguarded smile that made her heart stutter. "Good answer. Sit down, breakfast is almost ready."
She slid onto the wooden chair at the small table, the faded floral tablecloth rough against her bare thighs. He'd set two cups of black coffee, steam curling upward, and a small vase with a single sprig of lavender she hadn't noticed before. He moved around the kitchen with a grace that belied his injury, a rhythm she remembered from a lifetime ago, before everything had shattered.
"You made coffee," she said, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. "You used to burn it every single time."
He laughed, a low sound that rumbled through his chest. "I've had five years to practice. I've gotten good at a lot of things."
The words hung in the air, weighted with meaning. She watched him slide an omelet onto a plate, the vegetables perfectly diced, the cheese melting into golden ribbons. He set it before her, then sat down across the table with his own plate.
"This looks incredible," she said, picking up her fork. "Really, Leo. This is—"
"Try it," he said, his eyes watching her with a quiet intensity. "Tell me what you think."
She took a bite, and the flavors exploded across her tongue—creamy, savory, with just a hint of something bright and fresh. She let out a small, involuntary moan.
"Oh my god," she breathed. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."
He ducked his head, a flush creeping up his neck. "It's just eggs."
"It's not just eggs and you know it." She set down her fork, reaching across the table to take his hand. His fingers were warm, calloused from years of gripping knives and pans, and they curled around hers with a gentleness that made her chest ache.
"Leo," she said softly. "Can we really do this? Can we really start over?"
His thumb traced slow circles on the back of her hand. "I don't know if we can start over," he said, his voice careful. "We can't pretend the last five years didn't happen. We can't pretend I'm not... that I'm the same person I was before."
"I don't want you to be the same person," she said. "I want you to be the person you are now. The person who grew through the pain, who built something beautiful out of the wreckage. I want that person."
He looked at her, his dark eyes searching hers, and she could see the vulnerability there—the fear, the hope, the desperate, fragile thing that had survived against all odds.
"Can you live with what I did to you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Can you truly forgive me for the cruel words I said, for letting you drive away thinking I didn't love you, for not being brave enough to fight for us?"
He was quiet for a long moment, and she felt her heart cracking open, bracing for the worst.
"I've spent five years being angry," he said slowly. "Angry at you, angry at the world, angry at myself for not being enough. But last night, when you showed up at my door, soaked and trembling and so fucking brave—" He shook his head. "I realized the anger was just a shield. Underneath it, I was still in love with you. I don't think I ever stopped."
"Leo—"
"I forgive you," he said, the words falling like a benediction. "I forgive you, Jennie. But I need you to understand something. I need you to know that I'm not the kind of man who can be hurt like that again. I'm not saying I don't trust you, but I'm saying that if you're going to be in my life, you have to be all in. No games. No hiding. No running."
She stood up, rounding the table, and settled onto his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled her close, his face buried in her hair, and she felt him breathe—a deep, shuddering exhale that seemed to release years of tension.
"I'm all in," she whispered. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Leonid Manoban. I love you, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
He tilted his head up, and she leaned down, her lips meeting his. The kiss was soft, tender, a promise sealed in morning light and the lingering taste of coffee and cinnamon.
Just as she deepened the kiss, her phone buzzed on the table, the sound harsh and jarring against the quiet peace.
Leonid pulled back, his eyes flickering to the screen. Her phone lit up with a message preview, and the name was unmistakable.
Kai.
Where are you? I've called six times. Your mother is worried. We need to talk about the venue. - Kai
The sunlight seemed to dim, the warmth draining from the room. Jennie stared at the phone, her heart plummeting back to reality with a sickening thud.
"He's still out there," she said, her voice hollow. "He's still my fiancé."
Leonid's jaw tightened. "You called off the engagement?"
She shook her head, her throat closing. "I told him I needed space. I told him I was staying with a friend. I didn't—I couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet."
"Yet," Leonid repeated, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice. "When, Jennie? When were you planning to tell him you're not going to marry him?"
She slid off his lap, pacing across the kitchen, her fingers threading through her hair. "I don't know. I thought... I thought I could just disappear, but that's not how it works. There are contracts, press releases, families to consider. Kai's mother and my mother have been planning this wedding for months. Every society columnist in Seoul has already written the announcement."
"So what, you're going to go back to him? Pretend last night never happened?"
The raw hurt in his voice made her flinch. She turned to face him, and the look in his eyes was worse than anger—it was disappointment. A quiet, devastating resignation.
"No," she said, her voice fierce. "No, I'm going to break it off. I'm going to tell him today, face to face, like a real adult. I owe him that much."
Leonid crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tense. "And if he doesn't take it well?"
"Then he doesn't take it well." She walked back to him, placing her hands on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. "I can't control how he reacts. I can only control what I do. And what I'm going to do is end a relationship I never should have been in."
He searched her face, and something in his expression softened. "You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," she said. "I love you, Leo. I'm going to tell Kai the truth, and then I'm coming back here. To you. For good."
His hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones. "If you go, I need you to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't let him manipulate you. Don't let him make you doubt what we have. I know Kai—he's charming, persuasive, used to getting what he wants. But you're not his to keep."
She rose on her toes, pressing her lips to his. "You have my word. I'll be back before sunset."
He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. "I'll be here."
She gathered her things, stuffing her dress and heels into a borrowed tote bag, pulling on a pair of Leonid's sweatpants and a hoodie she found in his closet. They hung loose on her frame, and she caught him watching her with a helpless smile.
"What?" she asked.
"You look like you're going to war wearing my clothes," he said. "It's doing something to me."
"Save that thought for when I get back," she said, kissing him one last time. "I'm going to end this. And then you and I have a lot of lost time to make up for."
She took a breath, steeling herself, and opened the door. The hallway was quiet, the morning light casting long shadows. She walked toward the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest, replaying the words she would say.
Kai. I'm sorry. I can't marry you.
Simple. Honest. No room for negotiation.
She reached the street and haphazardly waved down a taxi, sliding into the backseat, her hand trembling as she gave him Kai's address. As the car pulled away from Leonid's building, she watched it recede in the rearview mirror, holding onto the promise like a lifeline.
The battle had begun.