Ji-Eun's POV
Ji-eun had been at the Kang mansion for three days, and she still jumped at every creak of the floorboards.
Ji-eun would work for the office at day and at night she would take care of Halmeoni. Tho it was exhausting but this job was much easier than working for 3 partime jobs.
Halmeoni, despite her sharp tongue, was surprisingly kind—demanding but fair, with a habit of slipping Ji-eun extra side dishes during meals when she thought no one was looking.
But Joon-Hyuk?
He was a ghost.
She'd catch glimpses of him—disappearing into his study, leaving before dawn—always just out of reach.
Coward , she thought, scrubbing a stubborn stain off Halmeoni's favorite porcelain teacup.
Then the doorbell rang.
The butler was off today. With a sigh, Ji-eun dried her hands and went to answer it.
Big mistake.
Standing on the doorstep was a woman who looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine—tall, flawless, and radiating icy elegance.
Park Min-ah.
Ji-eun recognized her instantly from the society pages—Joon-Hyuk's ex-fiancée, the woman whose calls kept interrupting whatever fragile moments they almost had.
Min-ah's perfectly sculpted brows lifted. "Who are you ?"
Ji-eun stiffened. "The caretaker."
A slow, predatory smile curled Min-ah's lips. "How… quaint ." She brushed past Ji-eun like she was furniture. "Joon-Hyuk-ah! I'm here!"
No answer.
Min-ah's smile didn't waver, but her knuckles whitened around her designer purse. "Where is he?"
Ji-eun folded her arms. "Not here."
"And you are?"
"Still the caretaker."
Min-ah's eyes narrowed. Then, deliberately, she pulled out her phone and dialed.
Joon-Hyuk's ringtone echoed from the study.
Liar , Min-ah's smirk said.
Ji-eun's stomach dropped. He's been here the whole time? Woah is he a ghost .
The study door swung open.
Joon-Hyuk stood there, tie loosened, hair slightly disheveled—like he'd been running his hands through it. His gaze flicked from Min-ah to Ji-eun, his expression unreadable.
"Min-ah," he said flatly. "You shouldn't be here."
Min-ah's laugh was like shattered glass. "And she should?"
A muscle ticked in Joon-Hyuk's jaw. "Leave."
"Not until you explain why you've been ignoring me for her ." Min-ah's voice dripped venom. "Is this why you called off the engagement? Because you'd rather play house with some *nobody*?"
Ji-eun flinched.
Joon-Hyuk's eyes darkened. "Get. Out."
Min-ah recoiled—then, with a sneer, she turned to Ji-eun. "You think you're special? He'll tire of you like he does everyone else." She leaned in, her whisper a blade. "Ask him about Yoon Soo-jin ."
Ji-Eun froze. *Who—?*
Before she could react, Joon-Hyuk grabbed Min-ah's arm and hauled her toward the door. "Enough."
Min-ah wrenched free, but not before shooting Ji-eun a final, triumphant glare. "He doesn't love you. He can't ."
The door slammed behind her.
Silence.
Ji-eun couldn't look at him. "I should check on Halmeoni."
"Ji-eun—"
"Who's Yoon Soo-jin?"
Joon-Hyuk went utterly still.
Then, from the hallway, a cane tapped against marble.
Halmeoni stood there, her face grim. "That's enough."
Joon-Hyuk's fists clenched. "Halmeoni—"
"Go," the old woman ordered. "Now."
For a heartbeat, Ji-eun thought he'd refuse. Then he strode past them both and out the front door, leaving Ji-eun standing there, her chest aching with questions she wasn't sure she wanted answered.
---
Halmeoni's Revelation
That night, Ji-eun found Halmeoni in the garden, staring at the moon.
"Yoon Soo-jin," the old woman said without preamble, "was Joon-Hyuk's first love."
Ji-eun's breath caught.
Halmeoni's voice was heavy. "She died in a car accident seven years ago. He was driving."
Ji-eun's hands flew to her mouth. Oh God.
"It wasn't his fault," Halmeoni continued softly. "But he's never forgiven himself." She turned, her eyes knowing. "Min-ah was Soo-jin's cousin. She's been tormenting him with it ever since."
Ji-eun's vision blurred. That's why he helped me at the police station. That's why he can't sleep.
Not a monster.
Just a man who'd loved and lost too deeply.
---
Joon-Hyuk's POV
Joon-Hyuk didn't come home that night.
Instead, he stood outside Ji-eun's old apartment building in the rain, watching the light in her brother's window flicker.
Why her?
Because she looked at him and saw a person, not a paycheck.
Because when she smiled, it felt like the first sunrise after a long winter.
Because she was the first thing in years that made him want to live again.
His phone buzzed—a message from Ji-eun:
"Come home."
Two words.
For the first time in seven years, he did.
---