Day 5
They wandered through narrow lanes and quiet corners, discovering little places that didn't exist on maps. Old cafés, tiny souvenir shops, sunlit streets where laughter felt lighter. They clicked pictures candid, without posing too much, walked shoulder to shoulder, brushed hands on purpose, bought small things they didn't need but would remember forever.
She stopped near a small stall, distracted by something shiny.
"Hauena…" he called.
"Hm?" She turned.
He was smiling, holding out a delicate hairpin, a tiny flower carved into it. Nothing grand. Just… pretty.
"Where did you find this?" she asked, eyes soft.
"It was there," he said, almost shy. "And I found it cute."
She smiled wider. "It is actually cute."
"Turn around," he said suddenly. "Let me style your hair with this."
"Right here?" she asked, amused.
"Yes," he said, already guiding her gently.
She turned, trusting him without hesitation. He gathered her hair carefully, fingers slow, almost reverent, tucking a few loose strands back before securing the pin. He stepped back, satisfied, a proud smile spreading across his face.
"Hold on. One second," he said quickly, before she could turn.
He pulled out his phone and clicked a picture.
The shopkeeper nearby chuckled, watching them with fond amusement.
"See," he said, showing her the screen. "It looks really good on you from the back."
She laughed softly. "Thank you for the wonderful hairstyle, Teddy."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a little shy now. And the flower sat there in her hair, simple and perfect, like the moment itself.
Later that afternoon, they had lunch at a quiet place nearby. Simple food, warm flavors, shared bites, soft laughter. After that, they returned to the resort to pack and check out. The room slowly emptied, souvenirs tucked carefully, clothes folded, memories already heavier than the luggage.
She was glowing. Happy, satisfied, energized, like the trip had refilled something deep inside her.
Suho, on the other hand, had lived a lifetime in those five days. Pain, confusion, buried anger, sudden clarity, uncomfortable truths. And finally, something close to peace. His mind still carried chaos, plans lining up one after another, but there was calm, too. A steady calm that came from one simple fact. She was beside him. Smiling. Safe. Happy.
That was enough to keep him steady.
Seoul Airport.
The familiar hum greeted them as they landed. For Hauen, it was home again. Comfortable. Known.
For Suho, it marked something else entirely.
From this moment on, everything he had planned was in motion.
He had already called his lawyer. The paperwork was ready. The registration process was lined up. The moment he dropped her at the penthouse, he would have to rush straight to finalize the property transfer.
There would be no pause.
They reached the penthouse just as the sky was settling into evening, the city lights beginning to flicker awake one by one.
Suho turned toward her, fingers still resting on the steering wheel. "Take care, jagi… I've got some work to finish. I'll be back," he said gently.
She frowned a little, confusion crossing her face. "You're going already…?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Something important came up. Don't worry, I'll try to be early."
She studied him for a second longer, then nodded slowly. She understood. Still, the sadness lingered quietly in her eyes, even though she tried to hide it behind composure.
He noticed.
Before she could open the door, he reached out and stopped her. She turned back, surprised. He smiled, leaned in, and kissed her. Slow. Warm. Unhurried. The kind of kiss that stayed even after lips parted.
She smiled against him and kissed him back.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested briefly against hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really need to go… and I might be late."
She searched his face, then offered a small, understanding smile. "That's okay. Just try to come early."
"I'll try," he whispered back.
He stole another soft peck, like he couldn't resist, and this time she laughed quietly, her smile wider now.
Then he pulled back.
She stepped out of the car as the guard moved in to unload their luggage. She stood there for a moment, watching him through the window.
Suho looked at her once more, then he drove off.
As the car disappeared into the distance, Hauen turned toward the penthouse, unaware of how much was shifting behind the scenes. And Suho drove forward with calm determination, heading straight toward the decisions he had promised himself he would make, quietly, firmly, without shaking the peace he had just protected.
Suho wrapped up the registration process swiftly. Both properties were sold at a handsome profit, yet somewhere deep inside, it felt like a quiet loss.
These lands were never just investments. They were pieces of his future. He had bought those lands with the intention. With plans layered carefully over the years. Future projects. Dreams sketched in blueprints, plans he had nurtured patiently, savings he had poured in with belief and foresight.
But life had shifted its weight. And now, he had let it all go.
Circumstances had forced his hand, and instead of regret, an unexpected calm settled in him. Because at this moment, Hauen mattered more than any structure he could ever build. And for her, there would be no second thoughts. No hesitation.
"Thank you, Mr. Kim. These are the checks for the final payments, in dollars," the buyer said with a satisfied smile, extending the envelope.
Suho accepted it and returned the smile politely. "My pleasure. And good luck with your upcoming project."
The man nodded, exchanged brief pleasantries, and soon the room emptied. Papers were signed. Hands were shaken. Doors closed softly behind departing footsteps.
Silence followed.
Suho lingered, eyes drifting over the site one last time. The land looked the same. Concrete. Promise. Potential. But the place held memories of intention, ambition, and a future he had once mapped out carefully.
Mr. Nam noticed the pause. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke gently. "If you don't mind, Mr. Kim… may I ask you something?"
Suho turned to him calmly. "Yes, please."