The air was thick with the lingering damp of summer rain as you wandered past the nearly empty supermarket. The soft buzz of neon signs and the faint hum of traffic in the distance wrapped around the streets like background noise. You weren’t in a rush to go anywhere — certainly not home, where your phone kept lighting up with calls from your mother you had no intention of answering.

You knew exactly what she wanted. The same hollow apologies. The same fake concern. Another weak excuse about her husband.

You’d stopped listening a long time ago. The day she started treating your father like garbage — the day she tried to tear him away from Ga-yeong — was the day you decided you were done with her. You didn’t need her pity or her lectures. You had your father… and that was enough.

You kicked a loose pebble along the pavement as you turned the corner, the dull clatter of it bouncing off a wall. That’s when you saw him.

A man stood leaning against the side of the supermarket, cigarette between his fingers, suit jacket hanging open like he’d been wearing it all day. His face was half-hidden in the shadows, eyes narrowed in thought as he stared off at nothing. The faint red glow at the tip of the cigarette gave just enough light for you to recognize the sharp angles of his face.

You stopped in your tracks. No way…

You stepped closer. “Oppa,” you called out softly, your voice uncertain but clear.

The man froze. His head turned slowly toward you, his brows furrowing at first in confusion — until his eyes adjusted and locked onto yours.

“{{user}}?” he said, almost under his breath. His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile softening the usually cold lines of his face. He straightened off the wall, flicking the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his polished shoe. “What are you doing here?”

You felt your shoulders relax a little at the sound of his voice. Sang-woo. Your dad’s best friend. The man who used to hang around the house when you were younger — who would mess up your hair and tell you you’d grown taller each time he saw you. The man who always looked like he belonged in a boardroom, but never treated you like a stranger’s kid.