David led Ji Hoo into the sleek, modern boardroom, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly off the polished marble floors that gleamed under the bright lights. The room was bathed in natural light pouring in through the tall, expansive windows, which offered a breathtaking view of the vibrant city below, with its bustling streets and towering skyscrapers. Despite the luxury and sophistication of the surroundings, the atmosphere between them felt charged with a more solemn weight. David couldn't shake off the lingering emotions from his recent reunion with his son, a moment that had filled him with a mixture of joy and nostalgia. But now he knew he had to shift his focus entirely; Ji Hoo's hospital project was of utmost seriousness, and it was imperative that they addressed it head-on without any distractions.
As David motioned for Ji Hoo to take a seat at the long, elegant glass table, his thoughts briefly flickered back to his office, where David Junior was happily engrossed in playing his favorite board game on the computer. The sound of his son's laughter and the innocence radiating from him provided a comforting contrast to the gravity of the moment they were now facing. It was a reminder of the simpler joys in life, a stark juxtaposition to the serious discussions that lay ahead about health and wellbeing.
"Alright," David began, settling into his chair across from Ji Hoo. His tone was professional, yet there was an unmistakable gentleness woven into his words, a residual effect of the emotional reunion that had taken place earlier. "Let's talk about the cancer ward expansion. I've gone over the preliminary details you provided, but I'd really like to hear more directly from you about your vision and the specifics of this project."
Ji Hoo nodded in understanding, his composure gradually returning as he eased into the familiar territory of business discussions. He opened a folder he had brought with him, methodically sliding a few carefully organized papers across the table toward David. "The hospital's current oncology unit is operating at maximum capacity," he explained, his voice steady and clear, resonating with conviction. "We've been able to provide essential care to our patients, but with the increasing number of patients, particularly children, we're reaching a critical point where we're running out of both space and resources. This expansion isn't just about adding more beds to accommodate the influx of patients—it's fundamentally about acquiring more specialized equipment, increasing our dedicated staff, and most importantly, ensuring better outcomes for all the patients who rely on our care."
David's gaze scanned the documents briefly, absorbing the information, but his attention remained fixed on Ji Hoo. He could hear the passion behind Ji Hoo's words—the deep sense of responsibility and commitment that fueled his work in the healthcare sector. It was evident that this project was more than just a professional endeavor for Ji Hoo; it was deeply personal, reflecting his dedication to improving the lives of those who were suffering. The weight of the task at hand was palpable, and David could sense the urgency in Ji Hoo's voice as he laid out the challenges they faced.
…
Ji Hoo continued, his voice taking on a more urgent tone as he leaned forward, clearly passionate about the topic at hand. "The new ward we're proposing would allow us to incorporate cutting-edge treatments, particularly in the specialized field of pediatric oncology. We've already secured partial funding from various local organizations that believe in our mission, but to truly bring this project to fruition, we need a significant investment to complete the entire initiative. That's precisely why I reached out to you, knowing your commitment to impactful healthcare solutions."
David nodded slowly, his brow furrowed as he absorbed the weight of Ji Hoo's request. "It sounds like a truly worthy cause," he said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair as he considered the implications. "But you know as well as I do that projects like these require more than just financial resources. There's infrastructure to consider, long-term sustainability to ensure, and a host of bureaucratic hurdles that we must navigate carefully."
Ji Hoo's jaw tightened slightly at the reminder of the complexities involved, but he nodded in agreement, indicating that he understood the challenges ahead. "I've been diligently working through those challenges," he admitted, his determination evident. "But the truth is, without a major investment from someone with your influence and resources, we won't be able to get this off the ground in the critical time frame we need. The need is urgent—patients are waiting for the care we can provide."
David tapped his fingers lightly on the polished surface of the table, his mind weighing the decision carefully. He wasn't one to be easily swayed by emotional appeals, but something about this situation felt different. Perhaps it was the personal connection he felt—the fact that Ji Hoo had unknowingly brought his son back to him through their shared experiences. Or maybe it was the genuine care evident in Ji Hoo's voice and the unwavering dedication he displayed towards his patients and their families.
"Tell me more about the pediatric side of this project," David said, his interest piqued as he leaned forward slightly. "What specifically drives the focus on that aspect of the initiative?"
Ji Hoo's expression softened as he began to elaborate, clearly passionate about the mission. "We're witnessing an alarming increase in the number of children diagnosed with cancer than ever before, and the treatments available are advancing at a remarkable pace. However, many hospitals unfortunately cannot keep up with the rapid developments in medical technology and treatment options. We want to provide these children with the best possible chance at recovery, and that means ensuring they have access to the latest treatments and technology available. It also means creating a supportive environment that caters to both the children and their families—a place that instills hope and comfort during such challenging times."
David felt a pang in his heart at the mention of children and families. The image of David Junior flashed vividly in his mind—the memory of his son happily playing in his office, blissfully unaware of the serious conversation unfolding in the boardroom. It was a stark reminder of what was at stake.
After a moment of contemplative silence, David finally spoke, his voice steady. "You've made a compelling case, Ji Hoo. I can see just how much this means to you—and to the community as a whole. I want to help, but I need assurances that this will be a sustainable project. We can't simply throw money at it and hope for the best without a solid plan in place."
Ji Hoo nodded, clearly prepared for this part of the conversation, as if he anticipated the need for reassurance. "We've already secured partnerships with several reputable medical research institutions, and we're currently in discussions with pharmaceutical companies for long-term support. We're building a comprehensive network that will ensure the hospital doesn't just survive but thrives in the long run. With your investment, we can not only expand the facilities but also ensure ongoing innovation in the treatments we offer to our young patients."
David sat quietly for a few moments, considering the proposal in its entirety. The project was undeniably ambitious, but it was clear that Ji Hoo had thought through every detail. More than that, it was evident that this was about something far greater than just financial figures for him.
"Alright," David said finally, his voice steady and resolute. "I'm willing to invest in the expansion of this initiative. But I want to be involved in a capacity that goes beyond merely writing a check. I'll have my team collaborate closely with your hospital's board to ensure we're covering all necessary angles—financial, operational, and strategic."
Relief washed over Ji Hoo's face, and he gave a small, respectful bow, clearly appreciative of David's willingness to help. "Thank you, Mr. Andrews," he said, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "This will make a tremendous difference for so many families in need."
David nodded, feeling a sense of closure begin to settle over him, though he knew there was still much work to be done. "You've done exceptionally well to get this far, Ji Hoo. Let's make sure we finish what you've started and see this vision through to reality."
As they stood to leave the meeting, David's thoughts drifted back to his son, who was waiting for him just down the hall. This wasn't just a business deal anymore—it was about family, in ways that Ji Hoo didn't even fully understand at that moment.
"Let's get back to my office," David said as they made their way toward the door, his mind already racing ahead. "There's someone in there who'll be very happy to know we're helping you with the hospital project."
Ji Hoo smiled faintly, still unaware of the deeper connection between David and the boy in the next room. But for David, this day had transformed into something far more significant than mere business. It had been about reuniting with the most important part of his life, thanks to a man who had no idea just how profound his actions had been in shaping their shared futures.
As Ji Hoo led David Junior out of the towering glass doors of Andrews Enterprises, the young boy bounced happily alongside him, oblivious to the gravity of the day's events. David stood in the lobby, watching them go—a whirlwind of emotions crashing within him. His eyes followed his son—his son—as he disappeared into the bright afternoon light, hand in hand with the man who had unknowingly reunited them.
A wave of bittersweetness hit David. He had barely touched the surface of his long-lost connection with his son, and he hadn't even seen Jan Di yet. The woman he had once loved deeply, who had left his life so abruptly. He felt a mixture of yearning, regret, and a flicker of hope. How many times had he wondered where they were? If they were safe? If they had moved on without him? Now, thanks to Ji Hoo and the boy's innocent words, the pieces had begun to fall back into place.
The bustling sounds of the office around him faded as David's mind zeroed in on what he had to do next. This wasn't just a coincidence. Jan Di and David Junior were here—close. He couldn't wait any longer.
David pulled out his phone, his fingers moving with the efficiency of a man who was used to getting things done. His expression shifted to one of determination as he dialed a number. The call was picked up on the first ring.
"Peter," David said, his voice firm, though there was an unmistakable urgency underlining his words. "Follow Yoon Ji Hoo's car. Find out where they're staying—Jan Di and my son. I want to pay them a visit."
There was a brief pause on the other end as Peter, David's most trusted assistant, registered the weight of the request. He had worked for David long enough to know when something was personal, and this was no ordinary instruction.
"Understood, Mr. Andrews. I'll get on it right away," Peter replied, his voice crisp and professional.
David ended the call and stood there for a moment, the phone still clutched in his hand as he stared out of the lobby windows. His chest felt tight with anticipation. So many questions churned through his mind. How would Jan Di react when she saw him? Would she even want to see him? Did his son know more than he was letting on?
The years they had been apart suddenly felt like a lifetime. Yet here he was, finally on the verge of reconnecting with the two people who had once meant everything to him. He was flooded with memories of Jan Di—her laughter, her strength, and her stubborn independence. And then there was David Junior, a little boy he hadn't even known existed until today. The thought sent a pang of guilt through him, but also a sense of determination. He wouldn't let this chance slip away.
David pocketed his phone and returned to his office, but his mind was elsewhere. His usual sharp focus on work had dulled under the weight of everything that had transpired. As he passed the large windows of his corner office, he caught a glimpse of his reflection—a man who had it all, or so it seemed. The wealth, the power, the respect—but the family he had lost was the one thing he had never been able to replace.
Back at his desk, David struggled to focus on the pile of documents that awaited his careful review, but his mind was wandering far from the task at hand. He found himself lost in thought, reflecting on the years that had slipped by—years during which Jan Di had been raising their son all alone, without his support or presence. He couldn't help but think about the sacrifices she must have made along the way and the countless struggles she might have faced as a single mother. The image of David Junior growing up without ever knowing who his father was weighed heavily on his heart. The thought was almost unbearable, a crushing realization that gnawed at him relentlessly.
As he sat there, time seemed to crawl by at an agonizing pace while he waited for Peter to report back with any news. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, laden with a mix of hope and anxiety that made it difficult for him to breathe. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and he found himself glancing at the clock repeatedly, willing it to move faster.
Finally, the moment he had been waiting for arrived—his phone buzzed insistently. David snatched it up, his heart racing as he saw Peter's name flash across the screen. Without hesitation, he answered the call, his voice tense and filled with urgency. "What did you find?" he asked, eager for any information that could lead him closer to the truth.
Peter's response came quickly but was measured, as if he understood the weight of the moment. "I've tracked Mr. Yoon's car to a residential area not far from the city center. It appears they're staying in a modest apartment complex—nothing too upscale or extravagant. I have the exact address if you'd like to go there now."
David closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The realization that they were so close hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily breathless. They weren't in some distant city, far removed from his life; they had been right here all along, and he hadn't even known it until now.
"Send me the address," David said, his tone low but filled with a resolute determination. "I'll go myself." There was no room for hesitation; he needed to take action.
A soft buzz of an incoming text message followed, and within seconds, the address appeared on his screen. For a fleeting moment, David hesitated, uncertainty creeping in. He had always prided himself on being a man of action, someone who never second-guessed himself or his decisions, but this situation felt different. He was on the brink of confronting his past, preparing to come face-to-face with a woman who had chosen to leave him and a son who might not even know who he was or why he had been absent from his life.
David glanced out the window once more, taking in the sprawling city skyline that stretched out before him. He had dedicated his entire life to building an empire, striving to be a man of influence and power in a world that often felt cold and unforgiving. Yet, as he stood there, all of that seemed insignificant compared to the monumental task he was about to undertake. Family—the kind of connection he had lost and longed for—was what truly mattered now, and he could no longer ignore the pull of that bond. The weight of his decisions loomed large, and he knew he had to face it head-on.
With a deep breath that felt like a cleansing wave, he rose to his feet and reached for his suit jacket draped casually over the back of his chair. The fabric felt familiar against his fingers, a reminder of the professional persona he had crafted over the years. As he turned his gaze toward the photo resting on his desk, a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was a snapshot from a business trip long ago, a moment frozen in time before everything in his life had begun to unravel. The laughter, the camaraderie, the sense of purpose—it all seemed like a distant memory now. He realized that it was time to stop living in the shadows of his past mistakes and regrets. He had an opportunity to make things right, or at the very least, to attempt to mend what had been broken.
The elevator ride down felt interminable, each passing floor only adding to the tension that coiled tightly in his chest, like a spring wound too tightly. The familiar ding of the elevator finally signaled his arrival, and as the doors slid open, he stepped into the lobby with a newfound sense of purpose that surged through him. His heart raced as his driver pulled the car around, the anticipation almost overwhelming. For the first time in years, David felt a genuine nervousness coursing through him, a mixture of excitement and anxiety that reminded him he was still alive and capable of feeling deeply.
The drive to the address Peter had sent was surprisingly swift, though in his mind, it felt like an eternity stretched out before him. Every second seemed to amplify his thoughts and emotions; each moment weighed down with the significance of what was to come. When they finally pulled up in front of the modest apartment building, David's heart raced even faster. He took a moment to observe the charm of the place, despite its simplicity and lack of ostentation. There was something profoundly humbling about it, knowing that Jan Di and their son had been living here, creating a life without any of the luxuries that his wealth could easily provide. It struck him how different their worlds had become and how much he had taken for granted.
The thought of seeing Jan Di again sent a jolt through him, making his heart race even more. He had always loved her, a truth that had persisted even after all these years apart. He had never truly stopped loving her, despite the distance and the time that had passed. The memories of her laugh, her fierce stubbornness, and her unwavering love for their son played over and over in his mind like a cherished song that had never faded. Would she hate him now? Would she have moved on to a life without him? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.
David's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he watched the light in their apartment flicker on, illuminating the window with a warm glow. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw her silhouette pass by, a figure he had longed to see for so long. She was still as graceful and beautiful as he remembered, her presence a balm to his aching heart. Time had not dimmed his love for her; instead, it had only deepened the ache of losing her, amplifying every moment they had spent apart.
He waited in the stillness of the car, the world outside fading into the background. Hours passed as he sat in the dark, watching intently, lost in his thoughts. Finally, when the apartment grew quiet and the bustling city had settled into the gentle hum of the night, he knew it was time to make his move. The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon him, and he steeled himself for whatever lay ahead, determined to confront the past and embrace whatever future awaited him.
…
He approached the building with a careful, measured pace, his heart pounding incessantly in his chest. The air felt thick with anticipation, and memories flooded back to him. It had been an eternity since he had stood on the threshold of the life that had once been intertwined with hers, yet the memories were vivid and fresh, seeming to belong to a time just yesterday. For a moment, he stood there hesitating at the door, grappling with the emotions that swirled within him, and then he slowly reached out and turned the knob, allowing himself to slip into the apartment with a quiet grace, almost as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile atmosphere around him.
The living room unfolded before him, simple and modest, yet infused with the unmistakable warmth that a home embodies. His eyes naturally gravitated toward the bedroom, where he caught sight of her—Jan Di, peacefully asleep, her dark hair cascading across the pillow like a waterfall of silk. The mere sight of her took his breath away, becoming stuck in his throat for that instant. She looked so serene in that moment, her features softened by the gentle light of the moon illuminating her face through the window. An ache stirred deep within him, a longing he had carefully buried and masked for so long beneath layers of time and distance.
He took a step closer to her, moving with deliberate slowness and carefulness, not wanting to shatter the tranquility that enveloped them. His gaze lingered longer on her face, drinking in every detail, and he felt a tumult of emotions wash over him—love, regret, and a glimmer of hope. There were so many unspoken words hanging between them, so many years that had slipped through their fingers like sand, and he felt the weight of it all crash down on him.
As he stood there, he noticed a small vase perched on the windowsill, containing a single peony—the flower that had always brought her joy and had adorned her life. The sight of it tugged at his heartstrings. Quietly, as if in a dream, he picked it up and slowly made his way to her bedside. With a tenderness borne from years of unacknowledged feelings, he gently tucked the peony behind her ear, his fingers grazing her soft, delicate skin. At that touch, his heart raced, thundering like a wild drumbeat, as the familiar warmth of her presence enveloped him, squeezing tightly around his chest.
In an impulsive moment, driven by emotion, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was a simple gesture, yet it bore the weight of everything he had longed to express for years—the words of apology, the depth of his love, and the aching longing that had haunted him. He hadn't consciously planned to kiss her, hadn't intended to cross that invisible line, yet the overwhelming emotions of the moment pulled him in. The softness of her against him, the gentle scent that whispered of home—it all washed over him like a tide, and he hadn't fully grasped how much he had truly missed her until that very second.
After that fleeting moment, he withdrew slightly, standing there for a precious few seconds, gazing down at the form of the woman who had once meant everything to him as she slept unaware. His heart felt heavy with a bittersweet mix of emotions. He had come to see her, driven by an insatiable need, and now that he had finally laid eyes on her after such a long time, the idea of walking away felt even more unbearable. Yet he understood deep down that revealing himself to her in this moment would be too much. He wasn't ready to face what that could mean, not yet.
Steeling himself for the difficult decision ahead, he cast one last lingering glance at her peaceful face before he turned away and quietly slipped out of the apartment, feeling the weight of the encounter pressing heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't remain at a distance any longer. Not now. The longing to reconnect, to find a way back into their lives, surged within him—it pulsed like a living thing inside his chest. Yet, he was left grappling with the question of how he would manage to do that. The right path eluded him, but he felt an undeniable determination begin to take root.
Hours ealier…
The sun had begun its slow descent behind the city skyline, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow as Ji Hoo drove back to Jan Di's apartment. The tranquil hues of twilight painted the city in soft shades, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted with the bustling energy of the day. In the back seat, David Junior was animatedly chattering away, his voice brimming with the innocent excitement of a young boy who had just experienced a thrilling adventure. Ji Hoo couldn't help but smile as he listened, his attention partially focused on the road while his mind drifted off into a whirlwind of thoughts reflecting on the day's accomplishments.
Earlier that day, his meeting at Andrews Enterprises had marked a pivotal moment—an essential step forward in securing the much-needed investment for the cancer ward project that had been his passion for so long. The exhilaration he felt was not solely rooted in professional triumph; it was deeply personal, too. After enduring a period filled with uncertainty and doubt, the heavy weight that had been pressing down on him had finally lifted. Now, he was filled with an overwhelming desire to rush back to the one person he longed to share this monumental news with: Jan Di.
As he navigated the familiar streets, his phone buzzed insistently with a message from Eun-gi, his girlfriend, who had been anxiously waiting to hear about the outcome of his meeting. Ji Hoo's eyes flickered briefly to the screen, catching a glimpse of her text, but he chose not to respond. There simply wasn't enough time for that right now. All that occupied his mind was the thought of getting back to Jan Di, eager to tell her about the good news and express his gratitude for her unwavering support throughout the entire process. She had been his rock, standing by him every step of the way with her quiet, steadfast strength, and he couldn't wait to show her just how much her presence and encouragement meant to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they pulled up in front of the modest apartment complex where Jan Di lived. Ji Hoo's heart raced with anticipation as he parked the car. David Junior, bursting with energy, leaped out of the vehicle, his little legs carrying him swiftly toward the entrance as his backpack bounced energetically on his back. The boy was eager to be reunited with his mother, and Ji Hoo followed closely behind, his own heart pounding in rhythm with the excitement of the moment. He could already envision Jan Di's joyful reaction to the news he was about to share, and that thought alone quickened his pace as he approached the door, ready to embrace the happiness that awaited them inside.
As he approached the steps leading up to Jan Di's apartment, Ji Hoo noticed that the door was already slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of light to spill out into the hallway. The familiar sound of laughter and lively conversation wafted through the air, informing him that everyone else was inside—F4, Ga Eul, Jae Kyung—bringing an inviting warmth to the atmosphere. Tonight, the apartment was bustling with activity, a gathering of friends that he had always cherished. However, as he paused for a moment at the threshold, Ji Hoo felt a fleeting hesitation wash over him. He couldn't shake off the awareness that Eun-gi would also be present, eagerly waiting for him to share his triumph with her. Despite this nagging thought, his feet propelled him forward, directing his full attention to Jan Di, the light of his life in that moment.
Once he stepped through the door, his eyes were instantly drawn to her. She stood by the kitchen counter, completely engrossed in her task, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail that accentuated the gentle curves of her face. She looked serene, her expression a blend of focus and dedication as she prepared something for their gathering. A torrent of emotions surged within Ji Hoo—an overwhelming wave of gratitude, quiet admiration, and an even deeper affection that he had wrestled with and tried to suppress over time. It was as if the moment summoned all these feelings to the forefront, a reminder of how much she meant to him.
The chatter and laughter of the others filled the room, with each one catching up and reliving old memories, but Ji Hoo found it impossible to divert his gaze from Jan Di. His heart began to race wildly, not just from the exhilaration of the day's events but also from the intense feelings he harbored for her. With every step he took towards her, the noise around him seemed to fade into the background, his world narrowing down to just her. He made his way across the room with long, purposeful strides, and his focus remained unbroken.
"Jan Di!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with uncontainable joy and excitement.
Before she had a chance to react to his sudden presence, Ji Hoo swept her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and lifting her effortlessly into the air—a spontaneous display of affection. Instantly, the room fell into a hush, every pair of eyes shifting towards them in surprise, but Ji Hoo remained oblivious to the attention. He was wholly enveloped in the moment, lost in the overwhelming sense of relief and joy he felt knowing she was there with him, by his side through all the challenges they had faced.
"Thank you, Jan Di!" he exclaimed breathlessly, spinning her around in a jubilant circle. His laughter resonated in the space, filling it with a warmth that echoed the overflowing emotions in his heart—feelings he could no longer keep hidden. "You did it! We did it! We got the investment!" The exuberance in his voice captured the essence of their shared journey, and in that instant, nothing else mattered except the undeniable bond they had forged together.
Jan Di gasped in utter surprise as she was swept off her feet, her heart racing and skipping a beat as Ji Hoo effortlessly spun her around like she weighed nothing at all. For that exhilarating moment, she was completely caught up in his vibrant energy, enveloped by the overwhelming joy that radiated from him. The world around them faded away as she savored the moment, feeling his warmth and the familiar presence he exuded. In that fleeting second, she allowed herself to truly revel in the happiness of being so close to him. The laughter echoed in her ears, and everything felt light and free; she could almost forget the complexities of their lives.
But then, in an instant, the harsh reality of the situation hit her like ice water. They weren't alone in this moment of spontaneous joy and lightheartedness.
Her eyes darted across the room, scanning the familiar faces, and she abruptly noticed the surprised expressions frozen on everyone's features. Ga Eul's eyebrows shot up into a bemused arch, her eyes wide with amusement and disbelief at the unexpected scene unfolding before her. Meanwhile, Jae Kyung stood there, mouth slightly agape, struggling to process and comprehend what was actually happening right in front of her. But it was Eun-gi's face—her girlfriend's face—that struck Jan Di most profoundly. Eun-gi stood there like a statue, her expression a complex mix of confusion, shock, and thinly veiled hurt that twisted Jan Di's stomach into knots.
With her heart lurching at the sight of Eun-gi's pain, Jan Di's sense of panic surged through her. She stiffened in Ji Hoo's arms, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over her as embarrassment combined with a deep sense of alarm. In a hurried panic, she pushed against his chest, the laughter from earlier dying on her lips. Her voice, although attempting to maintain a calm façade, came out a blend of a laugh and a scolding note that barely masked her distress.
"Ji Hoo! Put me down!" She half-laughed, half-scolded, desperately trying to keep her voice steady while feeling the weight of the room's collective gaze. The laughter seemed far away now, replaced by an urgent need to address the intensity of the moment and the confusion rippling through her.
…
Realizing the implications of his actions, Ji Hoo blinked rapidly, his initial joy rapidly dissipating into a profound sense of awkwardness as he gradually lowered her back to the ground. His cheeks flushed a deep red as he became acutely aware of the stunned silence that enveloped the room, making the atmosphere feel thick and heavy with unspoken thoughts. His eyes darted anxiously to Eun-gi, who stood off to the side with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line that conveyed her discontent without the need for words.
For a fleeting moment, Ji Hoo's heart wavered, caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty. He hadn't intended for things to unfold in such a manner. The hug, the lift, the shared joy—it had all felt so innocent, so genuine, and unguarded in that moment. But now, as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room with everyone's eyes fixed on him, he came to the sobering realization of how his actions must have appeared to those around them.
Jan Di, feeling the weight of the situation, smoothed out her clothes, her face flushed from the rush of emotions and the embarrassment that had suddenly engulfed her. She deliberately avoided Eun-gi's piercing gaze, acutely aware of the tension simmering just beneath the surface of the gathering. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken judgments, and she could feel the eyes of their friends lingering on her and Ji Hoo.
"I'm… I'm really glad it worked out, Ji Hoo," she said, attempting to inject some levity into the situation with a nervous laugh, hoping to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air like a heavy fog. "But maybe next time, a handshake will do?" Her attempt at humor felt fragile, like a thin veneer over the awkwardness that remained.
Ji Hoo chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture of discomfort, though he couldn't completely mask the glimmer of joy that still shone in his eyes. "Yeah, sorry about that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, though the warmth of the moment they had shared lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate entirely.
Eun-gi, clearly struggling to conceal her discomfort, chose that moment to speak up from her corner, her voice strained but laced with a forced humor that felt out of place. "Ji Hoo… since when do we start tossing women in the air to celebrate?" Her smile was tight and didn't quite reach her eyes, and Ji Hoo felt a sharp pang of guilt as her words hung heavily over the room, amplifying the tension that was already palpable.
Ji Hoo's smile faltered as he absorbed Eun-gi's words, his heart sinking slightly. He glanced at Eun-gi, then back at Jan Di, feeling a knot tighten painfully in his chest. He had been so caught up in the whirlwind of his emotions, in the deepening bond he shared with Jan Di, that he had momentarily forgotten the delicate balance of the relationships surrounding him. It was a realization that weighed heavily on him, a reminder of the complexities that often accompanied friendships.
As the others slowly began to murmur and talk among themselves again, the atmosphere had undeniably shifted. Ji Hoo glanced at Jan Di, who had busied herself with the dishes; her back turned to the room as if she were trying to shield herself from the scrutiny of their friends. A heaviness settled over him like a thick blanket as he realized that, in that brief, fleeting moment, he had inadvertently revealed more than he had intended—more than he could ever fully explain or justify to anyone, including himself. The tension in the air was thick with unspoken words, and he felt the weight of their shared experience pressing down on him, leaving him with a lingering sense of unease.
Ga Eul was the first to react. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her hand instinctively covering her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. She had always known about the deep bond between Jan Di and Ji Hoo, but this? This was something else. She darted a glance at Eun-gi, and her heart sank. Eun-gi stood frozen, her face paling as she watched her boyfriend hold another woman in his arms, completely swept up in the moment.
Yi Jeong's usual calm demeanor cracked for a second, his brow furrowing as he exchanged a glance with Woo Bin. Both of them were F4, the tight-knit brothers who had seen each other through everything. They had watched Ji Hoo and Jan Di navigate the complicated web of their friendship for years, but it had been a long time since they'd seen Ji Hoo this... alive.
Woo Bin leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed, his sharp eyes narrowing as the tension grew. He wasn't one to jump to conclusions, but even he couldn't deny the intensity of the scene unfolding before them. His mind flickered back to the past, to a time when Ji Hoo and Jan Di had been at the center of something delicate, something unspoken but undeniably strong. Was it still there, after all this time?
Jun Pyo, standing slightly apart from the group, clenched his jaw, his usual cool exterior faltering. His history with Jan Di was no secret, and while they had moved past it, seeing Ji Hoo—his best friend—so intimately connected with her again stirred something deep in him. It was a complex swirl of emotions: protectiveness over Jan Di, loyalty to Ji Hoo, and confusion over the lines that had once been drawn between them. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to step in or let it play out.
Jae Kyung, ever vibrant and bold, was visibly taken aback. Her usual playful expression faded as she stared, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She had come to accept the dynamics between these friends, but this was a side of Ji Hoo she had never seen before. She glanced at Ga Eul, who looked equally stunned, and her gaze lingered on Eun-gi, watching the girl's reaction carefully. The tension in Eun-gi's face was impossible to miss.
But it was Eun-gi who was the most affected, standing in the middle of it all, unable to hide the hurt and confusion that was spreading across her face like wildfire. She had been waiting for Ji Hoo's return, eager to hear about his success and about their future. Instead, she watched him hold another woman—Jan Di, no less—with a joy that felt almost foreign to her.
Her heart clenched, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. It wasn't just that he had lifted Jan Di; it was the way he had done it. So unguarded. So natural. She saw something in Ji Hoo's eyes—something she had never seen when he looked at her.
Ga Eul could no longer stand the silence, her voice coming out in a soft, almost nervous laugh. "Ji Hoo... you really went all out, didn't you?"
The tension broke, but only slightly. Ji Hoo, realizing what he had done, quickly set Jan Di back on the ground, his face flushing with embarrassment. Jan Di, too, was flustered, smoothing out her clothes and laughing nervously, trying to brush off the awkwardness. But neither could fully shake the moment.
Jan Di's eyes darted to Eun-gi, who still stood frozen, her expression unreadable but undeniably hurt. For a second, Jan Di felt a pang of guilt, knowing what this must look like, knowing what it must feel like for Eun-gi to watch. But she hadn't asked for this. It was just Ji Hoo being... Ji Hoo. She quickly excused herself, murmuring something about checking on David Junior, and hurried out of the room.
The rest of the group pretended to resume their conversations, but the atmosphere had shifted. Tension still crackled in the air, and everyone could feel it. Yi Jeong leaned in closer to Woo Bin, muttering under his breath, "That was... something."
Woo Bin nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Ji Hoo. "Yeah. But I'm not sure what."
Eun-gi remained rooted to the spot, her eyes on Ji Hoo, unable to let go of what she had just witnessed. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides, her chest tightening as she tried to make sense of it all. Finally, the words burst from her, low and sharp.
"Ji Hoo," she said, her voice taut with barely controlled emotion. "Can we talk? Alone?"
Ji Hoo's gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, he hesitated. He knew this conversation was coming. He could feel the weight of her stare and the unspoken questions swirling between them. Nodding, he led her into the quieter part of the apartment, away from prying eyes and ears. But the tension followed them.
Eun-gi didn't waste any time once they were alone. She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with hurt, her voice trembling. "What was that? What was that, Ji Hoo?"
Ji Hoo opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her words pouring out in a rush. "You lifted her like... like she meant everything to you. Like I wasn't even here. Do you know how that made me feel?"
"Eun-gi, it wasn't like that," Ji Hoo began, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I was just... I was excited. The investment, the project—it's a big deal. Jan Di's been helping me, and I just got caught up in the moment."
"But why her?" Eun-gi's voice cracked, her emotions spilling over. "Why is it always Jan Di? Every time, it's like there's this... this part of you I can't reach. A part that's just for her. I saw it today, Ji Hoo. You were happy—really happy. And it wasn't because of me."
Ji Hoo's chest tightened. He looked away, his thoughts a jumble of emotions he couldn't fully explain. "It's not like that. Jan Di and I... we've been through a lot. She's important to me, but it doesn't mean—"
"It does mean something!" Eun-gi interrupted, her voice rising. "I don't know if you see it, but everyone else does. The way you look at her, the way you... hold her. It's like she's a part of you that I'll never understand."
Ji Hoo didn't know how to respond. How could he explain to her the depth of his connection with Jan Di without making it sound like more than it was? How could he make Eun-gi understand that what he felt for Jan Di was complicated—something that had been part of his life for so long that it was like breathing?
"I don't know what you want me to say," Ji Hoo finally muttered, his voice low, almost pleading. "Jan Di's part of my past, and yeah, she's always going to mean something to me. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."
Eun-gi shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "But it does, Ji Hoo. It does change things. I need to know if I'm enough for you, or if I'm always going to be competing with her with what you had—what you still have."
Ji Hoo took a deep breath, fighting the swirl of emotions in his chest. "You're not competing with anyone, Eun-gi. You're important to me. But... Jan Di is..."
Before he could finish, Eun-gi held up her hand, stopping him. "She's always going to be part of you, isn't she? No matter what I do, I'll never be able to reach that part of you."
Eun-gi stood silent for a moment, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. She searched his eyes, looking for something—anything—that would reassure her. But all she saw was the same uncertainty she had been battling for weeks.
"I don't need to be reminded of how long you've known her," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I need to know if there's space for me. If there's room in your heart for us—for me—without her shadow always hanging over us."
Ji Hoo opened his mouth to speak but faltered. He wanted to say yes, to promise her that there was nothing to worry about, that he had left all those feelings behind. But the truth was, he wasn't sure he could. The feelings for Jan Di—whatever they were—were so deeply ingrained in him that they had become part of his being. He couldn't just tear them away.
"I... I don't know how to answer that," he admitted quietly, his voice rough with guilt. "But I don't want to lose you, Eun-gi. You mean more to me than you know."
Eun-gi's breath hitched, and for a long moment, the room was thick with silence, broken only by the soft hum of the air around them. She wiped her tears, her chest heaving as she tried to collect herself.
"Ji Hoo," she began slowly, her voice softer now but still laced with hurt, "I love you. But I can't keep competing with a ghost. I don't want to give up on us. I just need you to be honest with me. Don't push me away."
Ji Hoo stepped closer again, this time gently reaching for her hand, which she didn't pull away. "I'm not pushing you away. I'm just... trying to figure everything out."
Meanwhile, in Jan Di's bedroom, the atmosphere was electrified with excitement as David Junior bounced on the edge of the bed, eagerly recounting his thrilling day. Jan Di couldn't help but smile as she watched her son, feeling her heart fill with warmth at the sight of his uncontainable joy.
"Mom! You won't believe it!" David Junior exclaimed, his little hands animatedly gesturing as he spoke. "When I saw my dad, it was like seeing a real-life superhero! He was so tall and looked really cool! He even smiled at me! And he gave me the tightest hug ever."
Jan Di leaned in closer, her heart swelling with pride and a tinge of bittersweet emotion. "That sounds amazing, Pumpkin. Tell me, did your dad recognize you when he saw you?"
David Junior nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yes! He said my name! He called me 'Pumpkin' like it was the best name in the world! And he loved the flatbread you made!"
Her heart ached, both for the joy in her son's eyes and the complexity of the situation. "I'm so glad, sweetheart. It sounds like you made a great first impression."
The tension between Ji Hoo and Eun-gi hung thick in the air like a dense fog, both of them standing in the quiet hallway, their emotions swirling around them like a storm neither could fully contain nor articulate. The silence was deafening, amplifying the unspoken words that lingered between them. Eun-gi's eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, searched Ji Hoo's face desperately for something—an answer, a reassurance, a glimpse of certainty amidst the confusing web of their complicated relationship. She felt vulnerable, standing there exposed, hoping to find some clarity in his expression. But Ji Hoo's silence, heavy and profound, only deepened the uncertainty that weighed on them both.
For a moment, Ji Hoo felt the immense weight of the situation pressing down on him, like an anchor pulling him into the depths of despair. He knew that mere words alone wouldn't ease Eun-gi's pain or heal the rift that had formed between them. With a sense of urgency, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out for hers, gently enveloping it in his warmth. His touch was soft, and tentative, as if he were afraid that one wrong move would cause her to pull away completely, shattering the fragile connection they had. He wanted to bridge the distance that had grown between them to reassure her that he was still there, still present.
"Eun-gi," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, each word carefully chosen, "I know I hurt you. And I'm truly sorry for that." The sincerity in his tone was palpable, and he hoped it would reach her heart.
She looked down at their intertwined hands, her breath shaky and uneven, as uncertainty gripped her. She didn't know if she could believe him or if this was just another fleeting moment where Jan Di's shadow would loom over them, casting doubt on everything they had built. "Ji Hoo, I just don't understand…" Her voice cracked, the raw vulnerability laid bare for him to see. "You say I'm important to you, but when you look at her… it's like you become someone else. Someone I don't know. It scares me more than I can express." The fear of being replaced gnawed at her insides, making her feel small and insignificant.
Ji Hoo took a deep breath, his heart aching at the raw emotion in her words, each syllable cutting deeper than he anticipated. He didn't want to hurt her, nor did he want her to feel like she was second to anyone. And yet, how could he fully explain something even he didn't entirely understand? The bond he shared with Jan Di was deeper than words, woven into the fabric of his life in ways that had shaped him—ways he couldn't simply untangle. He felt trapped between two worlds, each pulling at him in different directions.
"I know it seems complicated," Ji Hoo began, his voice calm but filled with sincerity, trying to convey the depth of his feelings. "Jan Di and I have history, yes. But you… Eun-gi, you're here now. You're the one I'm with. The one I want to be with, now and in the future." He emphasized his desire to be with her, hoping to dispel the shadows of doubt that clouded her heart.
Eun-gi's gaze lifted to meet his, her chest tightening with a mix of hope and fear. She wanted so badly to believe him, to trust that he meant every word he said. "But what if I'm not enough, Ji Hoo? What if, deep down, you're always going to want her? What if I can't compete with the past?" The insecurity bubbled to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her.
"I don't want to lose you," Ji Hoo whispered, squeezing her hand gently, as if trying to anchor her to him. "Please don't doubt that. I need you, Eun-gi. And I'm trying to figure everything out. You're important to me, more than you know." His words, though not the complete answer she desperately sought, offered a sliver of hope. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, as if he feared she might slip away from him, leaving him alone in the darkness.
Eun-gi exhaled slowly, feeling the tension begin to ease from her shoulders, as if a weight had been lifted. She nodded, the storm of emotions inside her starting to calm, settling into a more manageable rhythm. "Okay," she said softly, her voice fragile but steady, a tentative agreement. "Okay, Ji Hoo. I just… I don't want to be left in the dark, wondering where we stand." Her heart beat a little easier, but the lingering fear still held a place in her mind.
"I promise I'll try to be better," Ji Hoo said, his voice softening even more, filled with determination. "You mean so much to me, Eun-gi. I don't want you to feel like you're in Jan Di's shadow, because you're not. You deserve to be seen for who you are, not compared to anyone else." He hoped his words would reassure her, that she would understand the depth of his commitment.
Eun-gi allowed herself a small smile, her heart still aching but slowly finding some peace in his words. It wasn't a perfect resolution, and she knew they had a long way to go, but for now, it was enough to hold onto. The warmth of his hand in hers gave her a sense of stability, a reminder that they were in this together.
Sensing the shift in the mood, Ji Hoo knew it was time to change the subject—to move past the palpable tension and try to find solid ground again. He gently led her toward the couch, guiding her to sit down beside him, the familiar comfort of their shared space enveloping them. "And speaking of things that don't make sense," Ji Hoo said, offering a soft chuckle to lighten the atmosphere, "you'll never believe what happened with the investment." His attempt to inject some levity into their conversation felt necessary, a way to ease the heaviness that had settled between them.
Eun-gi looked at him curiously, grateful for the change in tone, eager to hear the story. "What do you mean? What happened?" Her interest was piqued, and she leaned in slightly, her previous worries momentarily pushed aside.
Ji Hoo leaned back on the couch, his hand still resting on hers, drawing her closer as he began to explain the unexpected turn of events. "You asked me how Jan Di's son—David Junior—convinced the emperor of the business world, David Andrews, to give me the investment. Honestly, I have no idea how it all unfolded. I wasn't even in the office when it happened." His eyes sparkled with a mix of disbelief and amusement as he recounted the story.
Eun-gi's eyes widened, and her curiosity piqued even further. "Wait, what? You weren't there? How did that even happen?" The intrigue was evident on her face, and she felt a rush of excitement at the unfolding narrative.
Ji Hoo shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, enjoying the moment of lightness. "Nope. I was sitting outside in the waiting area, completely in the dark. David Andrews walked out of his office looking… happy, almost relieved. He called me in afterward, and that's when he told me he'd be offering the investment in two weeks. But it was after Pumpkin went in to talk to him that things changed dramatically." He could hardly believe the turn of events himself.
Eun-gi leaned forward, intrigued and eager to hear more. "So, Pumpkin actually talked to him? What did he say?" Her mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together the mystery of how a child could sway such a powerful figure.
Ji Hoo nodded emphatically. "Yeah. I had no idea what they talked about, but whatever that little boy said in there… it must have worked wonders. David Andrews was like a different man when he came out, almost transformed." He chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, still amazed at how things