Knowing Mi Cha hadn’t eaten much all day, Hye-bin had taken it upon herself to prepare dinner. The aroma of warm broth filled the room, creating a comforting atmosphere. After a while, she called out gently, “Mi Cha, come on. It’s ready.”

Mi Cha stirred from her thoughts, offering a faint smile before making her way to the dining table. Hye-bin placed a steaming bowl of soup and some rice in front of her, sitting down across from her with her own portion.

“Eat up,” Hye-bin encouraged, watching as Mi Cha picked up her spoon hesitantly. “You need to take care of yourself, especially with the baby.”

They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, the clinking of utensils the only sound between them. Slowly, as the warmth of the food seemed to soothe Mi Cha, her shoulders relaxed.

After a while, Hye-bin broke the silence. “It’s been so long since we’ve spent time together like this,” she said, her tone light. “Tell me, Mi Cha... what have you been up to all these years?”

Mi Cha hesitated, then began recounting bits and pieces of her life since they’d last seen each other. They exchanged stories, laughing softly at shared memories and marveling at how different their lives had turned out.

But as the conversation deepened, Hye-bin’s expression grew more serious. She hesitated before asking, her voice careful and soft, “Mi Cha, can I ask you something? What... what really happened to your husband? You never told me the full story.”

Mi Cha froze for a moment, her spoon pausing mid-air. She took a deep breath, setting it down before looking at Hye-bin with tired eyes. “It’s not an easy story to tell,” she began quietly. “But you deserve to know.”

She stared down at her bowl, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Our life wasn’t always like this. Things were better once—comfortable, even. My husband worked for a good company, and we were starting to think about building a future together. But then, his company went bankrupt. Everything fell apart so quickly.”

Mi Cha’s hands tightened around her bowl as she continued. “He couldn’t find another job in his field, so he started taking whatever work he could get—odd jobs, manual labor, anything to make ends meet. Eventually, he ended up working as a construction laborer... at the same site where my father worked.”

Her voice broke, and tears welled up in her eyes. Hye-bin reached out across the table, placing a comforting hand over Mi Cha’s.

“It happened so suddenly,” Mi Cha whispered, her tears spilling over. “A crane... it was lifting a steel beam, and the cable snapped. They were standing right beneath it—my husband and my father. They... they didn’t have a chance.”

Hye-bin’s face was stricken with sorrow. “Oh, Mi Cha,” she murmured, her grip on Mi Cha’s hand tightening. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

Mi Cha wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. “It was like my entire world collapsed in an instant. I lost them both—my husband, my father. And I was left with nothing but grief and a future I couldn’t face.”

Her voice broke again as she added, “Even now, I can’t stop thinking about that day. About how helpless I was to do anything.”

Hye-bin moved to Mi Cha’s side, wrapping her arms around her in a protective hug. “You don’t have to face it alone anymore,” she said firmly. “I’m here for you, Mi Cha. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

Mi Cha leaned into her friend’s embrace, the warmth of the hug soothing some of the pain in her heart. After a while, she pulled back, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t think I can face Ju-chan after everything that happened today. I just... I don’t have the strength.”

Hye-bin nodded without hesitation. “Of course. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

The two women moved to the bedroom, where Hye-bin helped Mi Cha settle in for the night. As Mi Cha drifted off to sleep, the moonlight streaming through the window, Hye-bin stayed by her side, silently vowing to protect her friend from any more pain.

Late that night, Ju-chan was riding his scooter home after a long day of deliveries. The streets were quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, and the cool night breeze brushed against his face. As he stopped at a red traffic light, his thoughts wandered to Mi Cha. Her warm smile, her gentle laugh, and the way she lovingly placed her hand on her growing belly all filled his mind.

A small smile crept onto his face. I have to work harder, he thought. For Mi Cha, for the baby. I want to give them everything they deserve.

As the light turned green, he revved the scooter and continued on his way. Passing by a small bakery, Ju-chan suddenly remembered Mi Cha mentioning her craving for sweets during her pregnancy. He decided to stop and buy a few pastries, hoping to surprise her when he got home.

The scent of freshly baked goods greeted him as he entered the bakery. He carefully selected an assortment of treats, imagining Mi Cha’s delighted expression when she saw them. As he stepped outside with the small bag of pastries in hand, he was startled by a voice calling his name.

“Ju-chan?”

He turned to see Ha-rin standing a few feet away, her face a mixture of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place. Before he could react, she closed the distance between them and suddenly threw her arms around him.

“Ha-rin? What are you—” Ju-chan began, but her soft sobs cut him off.

“I... I couldn’t stay away anymore,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve missed you so much, Ju-chan.”

Caught off guard, Ju-chan stood stiffly, unsure of how to respond. After a moment, he gently but firmly pulled away, creating some distance between them. “Ha-rin, what’s going on? Why are you here?”

Ha-rin wiped her tears and gestured toward a nearby bench. “Can we talk? Just for a moment,” she pleaded.

Reluctantly, Ju-chan nodded and followed her. They sat down, and Ha-rin began to speak.

“I’ve tried to move on, I really have,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “But I can’t forget you, Ju-chan. You were the only one who ever truly understood me, the only one who made me feel... safe.”

Ju-chan’s jaw tightened. He didn’t know what to say. Memories of their past together flooded his mind, but so did the pain of how things had ended.

“Ha-rin,” he said carefully, “things are different now. I’ve moved on with my life. You should too.”

Ha-rin shook her head, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. “I can’t. And I know you haven’t forgotten me either.”

Before he could respond, Ha-rin shifted her tone. “Look, I know we can’t go back to how things were. But... I’ve started my own café. I need a reliable supplier for traditional kimchi, and I immediately thought of you. You’re the best at what you do.”

Ju-chan frowned, sensing the manipulation in her words, but he couldn’t deny that the offer piqued his interest. Extra income would make a big difference, especially with the baby on the way.

“I don’t know, Ha-rin,” he said hesitantly.

“Please, Ju-chan,” Ha-rin pressed. “This isn’t about us—it’s strictly business. I’m offering you a chance to grow your business and provide for your family. Isn’t that what you want?”

Ju-chan hesitated. Deep down, he wanted to refuse. He didn’t want to get entangled in anything involving Ha-rin, knowing it would only complicate things with Mi Cha. But the thought of earning more money to support Mi Cha and their future child weighed heavily on his mind.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice reluctant. “I’ll think about it. But only as a business arrangement. Nothing more.”

Ha-rin’s lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes hinted at something more. “Of course. Strictly business.”

As Ju-chan got back on his scooter and drove away, the pastries in his bag felt heavier than before. A sense of unease settled in his chest, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on getting home to Mi Cha. Little did he know, the decision he had just made would set off a chain of events that could threaten everything he was trying to build.