Wrong Script, Right Love-Chapter 175: The Weight of Knowing

[Renji’s POV—Kurosawa Group Headquarters—CEO Office—Continuation]

Silence swallowed the room. Not the awkward kind. Not the embarrassed kind. The kind that presses against your chest until breathing feels like a conscious choice.

"You’re my Alvar," I had said. "My husband... whom I married in another dimension."

The words still hung in the air.

Heavy. Fragile.

Hayato didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

His brows were furrowed, confusion etched deep between them. Shock flickered across his face—raw, unguarded. His fists clenched slowly at his sides, knuckles whitening, gaze fixed on the floor as if the truth had landed there.

As if it might shatter if he looked at it directly.

I knew what this was.

A man who had lost his memories. A man living an entirely different life, in an entirely different world. How could he possibly accept something like this?

"...I’m your husband?" he asked at last.

His voice was quiet. Careful. Like he was afraid the answer might hurt more than the question.

I swallowed hard.

"Y-Yes," I whispered.

He didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he rubbed his temples, breathing slowly, like his mind was struggling to keep up with his heart. Then he turned away and took a seat behind his desk—placing solid wood and distance between us. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"Renji," he said.

My chest tightened. "Y-yes... sir?"

He didn’t look at me when he spoke again.

"Leave me alone."

The words were simple.

They still cut.

For a moment, I stood there, frozen—trying to remind myself that this wasn’t rejection. That it was confusion. That it was fear.

And yet—

Why did it hurt so much?

"...Yes, sir," I said softly.

I bowed.

Deeply.

Like I always did, like nothing happened just now. And then I turned and walked out of his office, each step heavier than the last—heart aching, hands trembling, carrying the weight of a truth I had finally spoken... and the silence that followed it.

Just like that, I left him alone with the truth.

And walked away with it, breaking me all over again.

***

[Hayato’s POV—Kurosawa Group Headquarters—CEO Office]

The door closed.

Softly.

Too softly.

Renji’s footsteps faded down the corridor, each one sinking deeper into the silence he left behind. I stayed where I was.

Seated.Still.

Staring at the exact spot on the floor where he had been standing when he said it.

You’re my Alvar. My husband.

I dragged a hand down my face and exhaled slowly.

"...Another dimension," I muttered.

It sounded absurd when said out loud.

Impossible. Illogical. The kind of thing that belonged in fiction, not in boardrooms and balance sheets and quarterly forecasts.

And yet—my chest hurt.

Not sharply. Not enough to steal my breath. Dully. Persistently. Like something had been torn loose and left behind to ache.

I pressed a hand against my sternum, frowning.

"...Why," I muttered, "does it feel like this?"

Part of me—an irrational, reckless part—wanted to believe him.

Every word. Not because it made sense. Not because it was logical. But because something inside me recognized it.

Those blurry dreams.

The way they came without warning—half-formed images, warmth without context.And that name.

Alvar.

It sounded like mine, and yet it wasn’t.

"This is ridiculous," I said aloud, my voice echoing faintly off the glass walls.

I dragged a hand down my face, then stilled.

My fingers brushed my lips.

I froze.

The memory surfaced uninvited.

The kiss.

The way it hadn’t startled me. The way my body had moved as if it already knew what to do. As if it had been... remembering.

"That didn’t feel like a first kiss," I whispered.

The realization sent a shiver through me. I clenched my jaw, frustration spiking. "Damn it."

I turned away from the window and ruffled my hair roughly, pacing the length of the office like a caged animal.

"This is insane," I muttered. "Completely insane."

Another step.

Another.

And yet no matter how many times I said it—my body didn’t agree. Because when I pictured Renji’s face as he bowed and walked away—my chest tightened again.

Because when I imagined him not coming back, something deep inside me recoiled.

"...What are you doing to me?" I breathed.

I stopped abruptly, gripping the edge of my desk until my knuckles whitened.

I didn’t know if he was telling the truth. I didn’t know if I could accept it. But one thing was becoming dangerously clear—whatever I was feeling wasn’t new.

It was resurfacing.

And that terrified me more than any impossible story about other worlds ever could. Because if my instincts were remembering something my mind had forgotten, then this wasn’t just confusion.

This is the truth I could no longer ignore. I let out a slow breath and leaned back in my chair.

"...What do I do now?" I murmured to the empty office.

There was no answer.

Only the ache in my chest—steady, insistent—refusing to fade.

***

[Later—After Office Hours—Renji’s POV]

Office hours ended. Lights dimmed. Conversations faded. One by one, people packed up their things and left.

And yet—He didn’t call me.

Didn’t summon me. Didn’t ask for any documents, any follow-ups, or any last-minute clarifications.

Nothing.

As if—as if he no longer needed me.

I remained at my desk, hands folded tightly in my lap, staring at the glow of my tablet without really seeing it.

It’s over. You told him the truth. And this is the cost.

I swallowed hard.

I had known it would be difficult. Impossible, even—for someone who had lost every fragment of his past to accept something like that.

I knew.

And yet—it still hurt.

Hurt like hell.

The sound cut through the quiet floor.

CREAK.

I flinched.

The door to the CEO’s office opened. Hayato stepped out, jacket slung over one shoulder, hands tucked into his pockets. He stopped when he saw me still there.

His gaze lingered.

Just for a second.

I stood immediately and bowed.

"Sir."

He studied me for a moment before speaking.

"Why are you still here," he asked, voice neutral, "when office hours have already ended?"

The question struck deeper than it should have. My hands trembled at my sides. Because suddenly, that single sentence felt like confirmation of everything I had been dreading.

Why are you still here?

As if my presence was unnecessary now. As if I was overstaying my place. My throat tightened, burning. Tears gathered faster than I could stop them.

I knew it was unreasonable.

I knew he needed time, and yet—why did it feel like being abandoned all over again?

I lowered my gaze, forcing the words out through sheer will.

"How... how could I leave?" I said quietly, voice shaking, "When you are still here, sir."

Silence followed.

Deep.

Heavy.

The kind that presses down on your chest until it’s hard to stand upright.

I braced myself.

For dismissal.For distance.For the end.

Instead, He stepped forward.

One step.Then another.

"Follow me," he said.

I looked up, startled.

He had already turned away, walking toward the glass doors at the end of the floor. He stopped there and glanced back at me over his shoulder.

"There’s somewhere we need to go."

My heart stuttered painfully.

"...Sir?" I whispered.

He didn’t explain. Just opened the door and waited. For the first time since I had told him the truth, he wasn’t pushing me away.

He was asking me to stay.

And as I followed him out into the night, heartbroken and hoping all at once, I realized something terrifying and fragile—Whatever he was choosing now... He was choosing it with me.

***

[Later—Riverside—Night]

We didn’t speak during the drive.

The city lights blurred past the windows, neon reflections sliding over glass and metal, but Hayato’s grip on the steering wheel stayed steady—too steady. Like he was holding himself together one breath at a time.

I didn’t ask where we were going.

I didn’t trust my voice.

The car finally slowed, tires crunching softly over gravel before coming to a stop. When I stepped out, cool night air rushed over me.

In front of us stretched the river—wide and calm, its surface catching fragments of moonlight like scattered silver. The city noise faded here, replaced by the low murmur of water and the distant hum of insects.

It was quiet.

Peaceful.

Hayato closed the car door and leaned back against it, gaze fixed on the water. After a moment, I joined him, resting against the hood a careful distance away.

Too far to touch.

Too close to ignore.

The river reflected the sky, dark and endless, like it was holding secrets it had no intention of giving up.

"This place," he said finally, voice low, "it’s where I come when I can’t think straight."

I looked at him in surprise.

"I have never brought anyone here," he said again, almost to himself.

The words lingered in the cool night air.

Then he turned to me.

"And... I brought you here for an answer," he continued slowly, "because there’s one thing I need to hear from you, Renji."

My breath caught.

"...An answer?"

He nodded once.

The river murmured behind us, steady and endless, moonlight trembling across its surface. Hayato leaned back against the car, hands resting at his sides, but his eyes were sharp—searching. Vulnerable in a way I had never seen before.

"When you look at me," he asked quietly, "what do you see?"

I swallowed.

"Do you see Hayato Kurosawa," he went on, voice low and controlled, "the man standing here now—someone who doesn’t remember, who doesn’t know if his instincts are lies or echoes?"

His gaze didn’t leave mine.

"...Or do you see Alvar?"

. . .

And the silence.