In agitated mind and heart, all Wooyoung yearned for was a moment of calm. His eyes, weary from resisting sleep, spoke of restless nights spent searching for serenity. Despite trying various distractions – burying himself in work, seeking comfort in the company of friends and colleagues – he found no pause. It was as though his mind had set standards only one person could meet.

Wooyoung had decided to take a breather from his jam-packed life, filled with five years of relentless civil work. He just wanted some downtime, maybe even a vacation. Where did he go? He made his way to the serene Hyeopjae beach, Jeju Island, hoping to unwind to the sound of crashing waves and feel the breeze on his face.

But, as fate would have it, the serenity he craved was nowhere in sight. The beach was buzzing with activity, umbrellas scattered across the sand, and the air alive with the chatter of tourists. Feeling disheartened but not ready to throw in the towel, he sought refuge in a nearby restaurant, craving not just food but also a break from the prying eyes of strangers.

Yet, even there, he couldn't dodge unwelcome attention. Amidst the clinking of dishes and din of diners, someone dared to point out the small mark beneath his left eye and the mole on his lower lip, a mole he remembered, she always loved to kiss.

Returning to the beach once again he gazed to the horizon, where the sun was painting the sky in breathtaking hues. With his hands in his pockets, he allowed himself to bask in the warmth, reminiscing about a time when moments like these held a different meaning. Before he could retreat to his rented hotel room, his heart urged him to linger a while longer and soak in the orange glow.

But memories of the woman he loved kept flooding back, haunting him at every turn. Each passing moment served as a painful reminder of her, her voice resonating in his mind like a melancholic melody. "I love the sunset glow; it makes you look as sweet as honey." She used to say that to him while tracing her fingers across his face.

But perhaps fate had other plans, for soon enough, a jolt startled him as someone accidentally collided with his feet, leaving behind a small, damp spot. Opening his eyes, he noticed a big stain of blue on his pants near the knee, his expression darkening with a deep frown. Yet, as his gaze shifted, a wave of sensitivity washed over him, softening his features.

"Hey there, little one, where are you headed?" Wooyoung exclaimed as this young girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old, bumped into him, holding onto her ice cream cone for dear life. She seemed apologetic, her blue ice cream melting and smudging Wooyoung's pants with blueberry cream. With a teary-eyed look, she glanced up at him, and that was the last thing Wooyoung needed today.

"I'm sorry, mister, I didn't mean to mess up your pants," the girl said, her voice trembling with guilt.

"It's okay, I'm not upset. It's just a stain, it'll come off," Wooyoung reassured her, gently wiping away her tears with a kindness that came naturally to him. He had always been good with kids, tender and reassuring, capable of making any worry vanish with a single smile. "What's your name?" he asked, holding her tiny hands in his own.

"Grace," the little girl replied, her smile returning at his friendly demeanor.

"What a lovely name. Where are your parents?" Wooyoung inquired softly.

"I chased after the puppy," Grace explained, pointing to the little furry troublemaker nearby. "But he was too fast, and now I can't find my mom," she admitted, her eyes welling up with tears again.

"Don't worry, we'll find your mom," Wooyoung vowed, already determined to help them reunite.

"Grace," a voice called from behind Wooyoung. The girl's face lit up, and she shouted, "Mom!" waving her hands to her mother. As Wooyoung got up slowly to greet the woman, his smile faded, replaced by a rush of emotions he thought he had buried long ago. "How many times have I told you not to run away like that?" It was a voice engraved deep in his memory, the one he yearned to hear whenever he was alone—the voice of the woman he loved.

"Y/N," Wooyoung turned around and whispered her name as she approached, out of breath from her quick chase. Her eyes, mirroring his own, showed confusion, guilt, sadness, and hurt. Grace was Y/N's daughter—a discovery that stirred up a storm of emotions within Wooyoung, reminding him of a past he hadn't fully moved on from.

As Y/n rounded the corner, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Wooyoung standing there, unexpected and unbidden. She greeted him tentatively, her expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, even to herself. She hadn't anticipated crossing paths with him after 5 years, especially not while on the hunt for her daughter, and certainly not with her daughter in tow, holding onto his hand.

"Mamma, this handsome uncle is really nice," Grace bubbled with innocent enthusiasm, oblivious to the complexity of the situation. "I messed up his pants but he's not angry."

Y/n managed a nervous smile as Grace happily bounded over to her side, releasing Wooyoung's hand. She glanced at him, seeing the confusion in his eyes, and felt a pang of unease.

"Did you say sorry?" Y/n gently prodded Grace, who shook her head before turning to Wooyoung with a cheerful shout of apologies.

Wooyoung returned the smile, though his eyes betrayed a deeper turmoil. Despite his outward calm, he couldn't shake the sting of seeing Y/n with a child, a visible reminder of her life moving forward without him, probably with the person he dreaded. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially considering he was the one who had initiated their breakup.

The memory of their parting flickered in his mind; a small misunderstanding that had snowballed into something larger. A mix of his own insecurities and infidelity. And yet, seeing her now, with a child in tow, stirred up a mix of conflicting emotions within him.

He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him, nor could he shake the regret that tinged his thoughts. All those years of loving her, only to realize too late that he had let her slip through his fingers.

In the quiet, Wooyoung broke the tension with a simple phrase: "It's been a while," he said, and Y/n nodded in acknowledgment. Grace, observing the exchange, jumped in with curiosity, "You both know each other?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment before replying, "Uhm... he's a friend," giving Wooyoung a quick glance. His response, barely above a whisper, carried a hint of pain, "Friend... yeah."

Sensing the discomfort, y/n offered, pointing to the ice cream stain on Wooyoung's pants, "Uh... if you don't mind, I could wash those off or they'll stain bad, blueberry stains are wild, I must say." Despite his initial urge to refuse, Wooyoung found himself unable to resist when y/n added, "Please." He couldn't forget the weight of that word; it was the one thing he regretted not heeding when they parted ways.

"Sure," Wooyoung agreed, moving to stand beside y/n. As they walked, they engaged in small talk, learning snippets about each other's lives. Y/n revealed that she lived nearby in Jeju and now crafted children's storybooks, having ditched her previous gig in article writing—a job that always brought back memories of their past collaboration. But she left out that particular detail. Wooyoung told her that he lives in Seoul, and was promoted as general commissioner.

"We're here," y/n announced, marking a subtle yet significant milestone in their unexpected reunion. Grace dashed inside the moment Y/N unlocked the door, earning giggles from both Y/N and Wooyoung. "Slow down, Grace," Y/N called after her cheerful daughter.

"I really need to pee, Mama," Grace announced, making a beeline for the stairs to her room.

Wooyoung nervously slipped off his shoes and entered the house. It was a sleek, modern design, spacious enough to house ten people comfortably. The floors gleamed with white tiles, and large glass doors separated the interior from the outside veranda. With its contemporary decor and furnishings, Wooyoung couldn't help but marvel. "You can change in that room; I'll get you something to wear," Y/N offered, gesturing toward a door.

Wooyoung nodded and made his way to the room Y/N indicated. It resembled Y/N's room, with its neatly arranged shelves filled with books, purple curtains, and lavender sheets adorning the bed. It struck him odd how well he remembered Y/N's tastes, but the room seemed less lived-in. Perhaps it was Y/N and her husband's room. He thought he'd spot some pics of Y/N with her hubby around, but there wasn't a single photo