Trapped In A Novel As The Breeding Mate For Four Powerful Alphas-Chapter 438: I want to live in luxury

"Jo-Pil," she asked, "...why does the idea of them turning away... hurt more than the idea of them leaving?"

The difference between them turning away and leaving... Huh?

The question sat terrifyingly on my chest like a cannonball. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Because if they left peacefully, maybe it meant it wasn’t my fault.

But if they turned their backs in anger, disgust, disappointment

It meant I deserved it. It meant I did something wrong, something they could never forgive me for.

"I..." My voice trembled. "I can handle being lonely. But I can’t handle being someone people regret loving. I can’t look into the eyes that hate me. I just can’t."

The silence that followed wasn’t empty.

It was heavier than the words I had just dropped.

Finally, Dr. Hye-Marin spoke, her voice steady and rooted:

"You’ve learned to survive being alone. But you haven’t learned how to believe that someone could stay because they want to — not out of obligation, not out of need, not out of what you can give them — but simply because it’s you."

My chest throbbed, painfully warm.

"That," she said gently, "...is the piece we’ll explore. Not only why you fear losing them... but why you don’t believe you’re worth staying for."

My throat closed, and more tears fell silently — not from pain, but from the shock of being seen.

For a moment, I didn’t speak.

I just breathed.

And then, tears began to slide down.

Those words... It was as if I was waiting to hear them for a very very long time.

Why don’t I believe I am worth staying for?

Is it me? Or is it just them?

If I can solve this riddle, maybe I can unlock the hard door pressed against my heart

Dr. Hye-Marin waited until my breathing steadied again before speaking.

"Jo-Pil," she said softly, "you mentioned something earlier, your world, your happiness, your peace. I want to ask you something simple, but important." She crossed one leg over the other, her posture relaxed but attentive. "When you picture a life where the emptiness isn’t there anymore, what does that life look like? What do you dream of for yourself?"

The question rattled me. It sounded easy, childish almost, like something kids answered in primary school.

But my dream wasn’t childish.

And it wasn’t complicated.

"I..." I hesitated, but the words surfaced with surprising clarity. "I want to live in luxury."

Her brow arched, impressed rather than judgmental.

"Luxury," she repeated. "Tell me what that means to you."

I glanced downward, thumbs rubbing together slowly.

"A place where nothing feels scarce," I murmured. "Where I’m not... begging for the minimum. Where I’m allowed to want the most expensive things without someone calling me greedy." I exhaled. "I want a life where I get to choose. Where everything I touch isn’t the cheapest version of what I wanted."

"And," she encouraged gently, "...in that dream, are you alone?"

I swallowed.

"No," I whispered, closing my eyes. "I am surrounded by the people who love and cherish me. The people who look at me like I am theirs, looking like they’re proud of it. Proud of me." The words came out fragile, almost embarrassed. "I want to be wanted without conditions."

She nodded slowly.

"That is not selfish," she said. "That is human."

The room softened around us, a quiet acceptance settling like warm cloth.

"And," she added, a professional warmth lifting her tone, "...we can work toward building a mindset where you believe you deserve those things."

The timer on her desk chimed, signaling the end of the session.

She stood, and I followed.

"One more thing," she said as she walked to a small shelf beside the window. She picked up a tiny box. "If you have trouble sleeping, these are lavender and chamomile scented candles. They help some people with nightmares or anxiety before bed. Try them if you’d like."

I lifted the lid slightly, and the scent was light, not overwhelming. I think this would be nice for sleeping.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"And Jo-Pil?" She smiled. "I hope that next time, you’ll be able to tell me at least one thing about your life that felt positive, even a small thing."

A tight breath escaped me, but I responded.

"I’ll try."

"That’s all I ask."

I stepped out of the office. The hallway felt brighter than before, as if my eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the office.

Down the corridor, on the metal bench beneath the window, Seo-Jun sat there with his elbows on his knees, fingers laced, and head bowed slightly like he’d been thinking very hard.

As soon as he noticed me stepping out, he stood up, almost too quickly, as if there was an emergency.

His eyes scanned my face, reading every detail I didn’t know was visible, and then stopped in front of me.

For a second, he said nothing and just scanned me before opening his mouth to speak,

"You good?" he asked quietly.

Something with the way he said it, as if he had been expecting the worst but was glad that nothing happened, made me chuckle.

He had been worried, huh?

"Who do you think I am? Of course I’m good." I said.

"In that case, it’s fine." He said and then looked at the box in my hand. "What’s in the box?"

"Scented candle?"

"Oh my. Great for a steamy night." He said, attempting to touch it but I smacked his hand.

"No touching. It’s for my good night’s sleep."

"Tch, don’t be stingy," he said, and I could only laugh.

"If you want them that much, get in there and you’ll get the scented candles as souvenirs on your way out," I said but he blanked his gaze, raising his hands in defeat.

"No thanks."

He was going to run till the end, huh?

Well, I was just glad it ended well on my end.

Therapy... Wasn’t so bad.

Maybe I should try to convince Seo-Jun to come for therapy again. Who knows? He just might find his solace.