Chapter 3 3

Song Min Ah

We pulled into the private garage beneath Ji-hoon's building, and he led me to the exclusive elevator that opened directly into his penthouse. Unlike Jiho's flashier style, Ji-hoon's home was a study in understated luxury, clean lines, muted colors, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Seoul's glittering skyline.

"You should change out of those wet clothes," Ji-hoon said gently, leading me toward what must be a guest suite. "There should be robes in the bathroom. I'll find you something to sleep in."

I nodded mutely, grateful for his pragmatism. In the luxurious bathroom, I peeled off my soaked dress, letting it fall to the marble floor with a wet slap. My reflection in the mirror shocked me, mascara streaked down my cheeks, hair plastered to my skull, eyes swollen from crying. I looked as wrecked on the outside as I felt on the inside.

The hot shower helped restore some semblance of normalcy, though each wave of calm was followed by another surge of pain as memories of Jiho's betrayal crashed through me. By the time I emerged, wrapped in a plush white robe with my wet hair twisted in a towel, I felt marginally more human.

A knock at the door startled me. "Min-ah? I brought you something to wear."

I opened the door to find Ji-hoon holding a bundle of clothes, a soft t-shirt, and sweatpants that would obviously swim on my petite frame.

"Thank you," I said, managing a small smile that felt foreign on my face. "For everything. I'm sorry to impose like this."

"You're never an imposition," Ji-hoon said firmly. "Never."

His intensity sparked fresh tears. "I was so stupid," I whispered, the words bursting out before I could stop them. "Five years, oppa. Five years wasted on someone who could betray me so easily."

I saw Ji-hoon's hands clenched at his sides. "The fault is his, not yours. Never doubt that."

"But I should have seen it," I insisted, anger flaring through my grief. "I'm supposed to be so smart, I graduated at the top of my class, and I am accepted into an executive track internship at Lumière through my skills. But I couldn't see that my own fiancé was cheating on me for almost a year?"

"Love makes fools of the wisest people," Ji-hoon said quietly, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes.

I looked up at him, suddenly curious. "Have you ever been fooled by love, oppa?"

Something shifted in his expression, a flash of vulnerability quickly masked. "Get changed. I'll make us something to eat."

He retreated down the hall, leaving me to change into his clothes. The t-shirt hung to my knees, the sweatpants requiring multiple rolls at the waist to stay up. I felt small, swallowed by fabric that carried his scent, a scent that was oddly comforting.

Following the sounds from the kitchen, I found Ji-hoon preparing ramyeon, my comfort food since childhood. The domesticity of the scene struck me forcefully. Here was one of Seoul's most powerful men, making instant noodles at midnight for his best friend's heartbroken little sister.

"Ramyeon?" I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "You remembered."

"Hard to forget when you used to beg for it every time you visited Min-ho," Ji-hoon replied, returning my smile. "Even when you were supposed to be at fancy dinner parties with your father."

I slid onto a barstool at the kitchen island, wrapping my hands around the steaming bowl he placed before me. "Those parties were so boring. Sneaking away to eat instant noodles with you and oppa was the highlight of those evenings."

The memory hung between us, me at sixteen, arguing business theories with Ji-hoon while slurping noodles in my party dress, much to my brother's amusement.

"You were a menace," Ji-hoon said fondly. "Always arguing, always questioning everything."

"You were the only one who took me seriously," I replied softly. "Not as Song Tae-woo's princess or Min-ho's baby sister, but as a person with valid thoughts and ideas."

Ji-hoon's expression softened. "You've always been extraordinary, Min-ah. Anyone who can't see that isn't worth your time."

Our eyes met across the counter, an electric moment of connection that made my breath catch. Ji-hoon broke it first, turning away to fetch water. When he returned, I noticed something I'd missed before: his left hand was bare.

"Jiho mentioned you were engaged," I said carefully. "To Park Yoo-na? The pharmaceutical heiress?"

Ji-hoon stiffened visibly. "It's complicated."

"So where's the ring?" I pressed, my natural curiosity temporarily overriding my heartbreak.

Ji-hoon hesitated, then reached into his pocket and placed a platinum band on the counter between us. "Here."

I stared at it. "Why aren't you wearing it?"

"Because I don't love her," Ji-hoon said bluntly, the admission seeming to surprise even him.

My eyes widened. "Then why are you marrying her?"

"Business. Family expectations. The usual chaebol reasons." He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but achieving only resignation. "Her family's pharmaceutical company has patents KangTech needs for our medical division. My mother orchestrated the whole thing."

"That's medieval," I said, outrage bubbling up through my grief. "You're thirty years old, not some Joseon-era prince who needs a political marriage."

Ji-hoon smiled at my indignation. "Not everyone marries for love, Mimi," he said, using the childhood nickname only he had ever called me.

"But you should," I insisted, surprised by the vehemence in my voice. "You deserve that. Someone who challenges you, who sees you for who you really are beyond the Kang name and the Forbes lists. Someone who...."

I broke off abruptly, heat rising to my cheeks. What was I doing? My life had just imploded, and here I was, lecturing Ji-hoon about his love life while wearing his clothes in his penthouse at midnight.

"Someone who what?" Ji-hoon asked, his voice dropping lower.

I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm just upset and rambling. Ignore me."

I focused intently on my ramyeon, avoiding his penetrating gaze. The silence stretched between us, filled with something I wasn't ready to examine.

"You can stay here as long as you need," Ji-hoon finally said, changing the subject. "The guest suite is yours, and this penthouse has better security than most government buildings. No one will bother you here."

I looked up gratefully. "Just for a few days, until I can arrange to have the family house opened early. I don't want to impose or cause problems with your fiancée."

I couldn't help the slight emphasis on the word "fiancée," watching for his reaction.

"Yoo-na doesn't visit here," he said flatly. "This is my space, not hers."

A ridiculous flicker of satisfaction warmed my chest. I quickly suppressed it. "Still, I should call my father tomorrow. Let him know what happened."

Ji-hoon winced visibly. "Jiho might not survive that conversation."

"Good," I said with sudden vehemence. "Appa trusted him. I trusted him. He deserves whatever's coming to him."

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I brushed it away angrily. "I hate that I'm still crying over him. I hate that I still care."

"It's been five years, Min-ah. You're allowed to grieve."

"I keep seeing them together," I whispered, my composure crumbling again. "In our bed. The bed where he proposed to me three months ago."

Before I realized what was happening, Ji-hoon had moved around the counter and pulled me into his arms. I buried my face against his chest, the solid warmth of him anchoring me as fresh tears soaked through his t-shirt.

"He's not worth your tears," Ji-hoon murmured, stroking my hair. "Not one of them."

I looked up at him, our faces inches apart. "Then why can't I stop?"

Ji-hoon gently wiped away a tear with his thumb, his hand lingering on my cheek. "Because you loved him. Genuinely, completely. That's who you are, Min-ah, you love with your whole heart. It's what makes you extraordinary."

Something shifted in the atmosphere between us. I became acutely aware of his hand on my face, the subtle spice of his cologne, the intensity in his dark eyes as they searched mine.

"Ji-hoon oppa," I whispered, my heart suddenly racing for reasons that had nothing to do with grief.

You should get some rest," he said, his voice rougher than before. "It's been a long day."

I nodded, pulling his oversized clothes more tightly around me. "Thank you again," I said softly. "For being there when I needed someone."

"I'll always be there for you, Min-ah," Ji-hoon promised, his voice low and intense. "Always."

As I retreated to the guest room, my emotions were a chaotic tangle. Betrayal and heartbreak over Jiho's infidelity. Anger at my own blindness. Relief at having found sanctuary with Ji-hoon.

I crawled into the luxurious bed, exhaustion finally overtaking me. Tomorrow I will call my father, arrange to open our Seoul house early, and begin piecing my life back together. Tomorrow I will prepare for my internship at Lumière Cosmetics, determined to prove myself on merit alone.

But tonight, in the stillness of Ji-hoon's guest room, with the rain still pattering against the windows and the faint sound of him moving around in the penthouse, sleep claimed me.