The cab ease to a rest in front of a house, well, more of a mansion.

After I paid for my fare, I hurriedly opened the door and hopped out of the car. Slinging my carry-on over my shoulder, I emerged into the sunlight. 

My dad's house is undeniably beautiful with its modern-style architecture.

I let out a sigh. I really don't want to do this. But it isn't like I have a choice anymore. 

This is it.

My new home sweet home.

I'm about to take another deep breath when I see him. 

He's taller in real life than he is in my memories. His light brown hair looks darker now, his clothes definitely more trendy and expensive. The man I once knew didn't wear pressed khakis and polo shirts and golf visors, but I guess that's who he is now. He is still my father. 

As he gets near, I arranged my face into an appropriately friendly expression.

"Bom!" Dad wrapped me up in a big bear hug, like I was still a six-year old girl -- so much for personal space.
"Hi...Dad." I awkwardly responded.
He lets go and looks at me. "How are you? Good to see you, kiddo." 
"I'm fine." 
"Let's go inside." He puts his arm around my shoulders and takes a step forward. I didn't move. 
Sensing my state, he immediately removed his arm.
I didn't say anything, just gave him a small smile. 
"Let me show you the house."

I follow him up the driveway, past the gates that lead to an outdoor front courtyard and through the entryway.
"Oh," I say once I step inside. "This is really nice." 
And it is. A far cry from the place I and my sister had moved to in Busan. That house isn't bad but we've been living a life of poverty compared to what Dad's got going on here.

We walk into a marble foyer with a winding iron staircase that leads to a loft overlooking the entry and the backyard. Curved archways lead to a maze of hallways and I can already see an infinity pool.

"It's your home now, Bom." 
"Maybe just my house," I say quickly. 
He looks over at me. "Whatever you want, of course," he says, but it's hard to miss the change in his voice.

Dad's new wife appears in the loft and walks over to the landing. 
"Bom!" The blonde woman immaculately coifed and dressed in head-to-toe yellow linen smiles brightly at me before she walks down the steps, the heels of her stilettos pinging off the iron staircase. "It's wonderful to see you!" 

"Hi Han Byul," I say politely. I haven't seen her since she married my dad six years earlier. 
"How are you doing, sweety?" she asks, placing her hands on my shoulders, oblivious that the contact is making my insides churn, and air kiss me. She breaks away just as quickly and moves back allowing me a chance to exhale.

In my almost ten years of living in Busan, I'm pretty sure I've never seen an air kiss. I struggle not to roll my eyes -- I know it'll hurt Dad's feelings if he sees and while I don't really want to be here, I don't want to be a total brat to him, either. He's giving me a place to live and saving me from being homeless, after all. 

"Good. And I guess I should say congratulations." 
"Wonderful," she says, clapping her hands together before moving them to her still-tiny belly. "And thank you, sweety." She looks over at Dad and beams. "We couldn't be more thrilled about the baby. I'll go see about some lemonade in the kitchen. You must be thirsty."

I just nodded.

“Why don't you head upstairs and pick any of the bedrooms you like? They're all free, except for the master's bedroom. It's at the far back."

"Okay." 
"I'll just go see if Han Byul needs any help."
He smiles at me, obviously thrilled with how this afternoon has unfolded so far.

I tiptoe up the iron stairs, and open the first door I find. A bathroom. Behind door number two is a bedroom with pink walls, pink bedding and pink curtains. Nuh-uh.

When I open the next door, I know instantly that I've found my bedroom. I don't need to see the others. The walls are painted beige to match the simple white, fluffy-looking comforter with black accent pillows. The queen-sized bed takes up most of the room, but that isn't what draws me to the space. 

There's a low wall a few feet away from the end of the bed and two steps that lead into a sitting area with two cozy-looking chairs. The giant window takes up most of the wall and overlooks the pool. There's even a small balcony. 

I'm in love. It's perfect. 

"Ahem." 
I spin around and see Dad standing in the doorway, holding a tray with a glass of juice and, I believe, a slice of cake.

"Good choice on the room," Dad tells me. "It's our guests' favorite." He steps inside and placed the tray on the table beside the bed.

"Oh!" My cheeks flush and I try not to look disappointed. "Let me take a different one, then."

"Nonsense. This is your house now," he says, and