When Jung Junhee arrived at her sister's apartment on Thursday night, less than forty-eight hours before Rahee was scheduled to say "I do," she found the bride-to-be in tears.

"What's wrong?"

Rahee gestured to her dining room table, covered with dozens of champagne glasses, mini bottles of bubbly and spools of white tulle. "She dropped everything off half an hour ago, apologizing for the fact that she didn't have time to finish." Rahee impatiently swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Finish? She didn't even start."

"She" being their dramatic mother. Suffering from a self-diagnosed delicate disposition, she frequently took to her bed with migraines whenever she was faced with a task she deemed too onerous or demanding.

Junhee set down the wine she'd brought and picked up one of the elegant crystal flutes. It had been hand-painted with the bride and groom's initials surrounded by an intricate scroll pattern. "You did a fabulous job on these, Rahee."

Her sister managed a smile, though it wobbled at the corners. “It just would have been nice if Mum had actually stepped up and acted like a mother instead of a drama queen for once in her life."

Junhee couldn't disagree, so she went to the kitchen and returned with a corkscrew and a couple of wine glasses.

"Dad decided to throw a wrench into the plan, too," Rahee told her. "He's bringing Song Yuri as his date to the wedding."

Junhee worked the cork out of the bottle, poured the wine. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"She was the teaching assistant in my last year in high school." Rahee accepted a glass of wine and took a long sip. "Never a dull moment in our family, is there?"

"I just wanted my wedding to go smoothly, without any last-minute snags. Now there's been two—and bad things always happen in threes, so I can't help wondering what the third is going to be."

"There won't be any more snags," Junhee assured her. "You're just experiencing some pre-wedding jitters."

Her sister glanced at the cluttered table. "I wanted to kick back tonight with my sister, drink wine and paint our toenails."

"We can drink wine while we finish the favours. As for your toenails, I booked the 'blissful bride' package for you—including massage, manicure and pedicure—for ten a.m. Saturday morning at that famous spa you’ve been wanting to go to."

"Really?"

Junhee nodded. "You've been running yourself ragged over the past few months organizing the wedding of your dreams, and now that the big day is almost here, I want you to be able to relax and enjoy it."

"You always do that, you know?"

"Do what?"

"Whenever I start to feel sorry for myself for the parents I was given, you do something that makes me realize how fortunate I am to have a sister like you."

"Nothing Mum or Dad says or does can change the fact that Saturday is your day—the day you're marrying the man you love," Junhee said, and hoped that Rahee didn't pick up on the wistfulness in her tone.

"I really do love him, with my whole heart."

The curve of her sister's lips was as instinctive as it was genuine, giving Junhee hope that true love did exist, despite her personal experience to the contrary. "Then that's all that matters."

"You've gone above and beyond in so many ways," Rahee said. "And I never even considered that it might be uncomfortable for you to be my maid of honour less than a year after you gave Myungsoo back his ring."

In truth, Junhee's feelings about her sister's nuptials were somewhat mixed, not because of her own broken engagement but because she'd always assumed that, as the older sister, she would be married first. Life hadn't worked out that way, but she was sincerely happy for Rahee and Seyong. And just a little bit envious.

"I never should have accepted Myungsoo's ring," Junhee admitted to her sister now.

"You didn't love him?"

"I thought I did. Until he decided to take a job in Japan and I realized I didn't want to go with him."

"You were in the middle of your residency," Rahee pointed out in Junhee's defense.

It was the same explanation that Junhee had given to her fiancé, but he'd known the same truth that she admitted to her sister now. "I could have applied to finish my residency there."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't love him enough."

"I'd follow Seyong to the ends of the earth," Rahee confided. "And I'm sure he would do the same."

Junhee fluffed the bow she'd just tied and pretended that her own heart didn't ache for the forever kind of love her sister had found. "That's how it should be."

"Have you ever loved anyone enough?" Rahee asked.

She pretended to consider the question, though the answer was as unequivocal as her feelings had been for the one man she'd loved. "Once. A long time ago."

"Sehun," her sister realized.

Junhee nodded. She'd loved Oh Sehun with the innocence and intensity of first love. She had not only been willing to follow him to the ends of the earth, she'd offered to do so. He'd turned her down, insisting that they each had to follow their own path.

With the advantage of time and distance, she could accept that he'd been right. She wouldn't be where she was right now if she'd followed the urging of her infatuated heart. It was an important lesson—and one she promised herself she wouldn't forget.

Of course, her resolve had never been tested. Because in all the years that had passed since their final good-bye, she'd never seen Sehun again.

But soon that would no longer be true—because on Saturday, her sister was marrying his cousin. And Sehun was the best man.

Oh Sehun had lost count of the number of flights he'd taken from one obscure corner of the world to another. He'd flown economy and first class, he'd hitched rides on cargo planes and military choppers and medical transports. His experiences had been alternately thrilling and terrifying, all in pursuit of a story. But today, as he waited to check-in at Rio de Janeiro Internacional, he wasn't searching for a headline—he was glad to be going home.

Nine years earlier, he'd left Busan and he'd never looked back. As soon as he was gone, his parents had finally ended their acrimonious marriage, after which his father had moved to Seoul and his mother had relocated to the countryside. The one family member he had kept in contact with was Seyoung, his older cousin who remained in their small town. Now Seyong was getting married, and he'd asked Sehun to be his best man.

Of course he'd said yes. And then he'd put the wedding and all related details out of his mind while he made his way to Ishinomaki to report on how the city was dealing with the after-effects of a devastating tsunami. From Japan he went to Kazakhstan, then to Sierra Leone and, most recently, Brazil. His work kept him busy, leaving him little time to contemplate his cousin's upcoming nuptials or anything else. But now that he was finally on his way home, his mind was overwhelmed with memories of Busan and the people he'd left behind—especially Jung Junhee.

Sehun stepped up to the counter and offered his ticket and passport to the female agent behind the counter. She punched some numbers into the computer, then shook her head.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't check you in for this flight. We're overbooked."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'd be happy to book you on the nine o'clock—"

"I'm supposed to connect to another flight thirty minutes after the eight o'clock flight is scheduled to land."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I realize it's not your fault," he conceded. "But I have to get to Korea for my cousin's wedding."

"We do have a flight into Tokyo that—"

"Tokyo?" He stared at the Brazilian agent incredulously. "But I’m off to Busan!”

"If you'd let me finish, sir—the flight gets into Narita Airport at six-thirty-five, and from there I can connect you on the ten-thirty to Seoul."

"So now I have to find my own way to Busan? And what am I supposed to do in Japan for four hours?"

Of course, she didn't respond to his question, she only said, "Do you want a seat on that flight, sir?"

He nodded dejectedly, out of other options.

Junhee didn't want to risk being late for the rehearsal if her shift at the hospital ran over, so she took a change of clothes to work and planned to get ready there. Now, with forty-three minutes to spare, she straightened the skirt on the designer wrap-style dress she'd bought for the occasion and surveyed her reflection in the mirror.

The jersey fabric was the colour of crushed berries and emphasized her curves. Or maybe that was the new underwear she'd splurged on for the occasion—a push-up bra that promised ‘more cleavage than ever before’ and matching satin bikinis. She'd planned to leave her hair down…until she remembered that Sehun had always preferred it that way. Then she'd deliberately twisted it up and secured it on top of her head.

Though she knew it was ridiculous, she was more than a little nervous about seeing him again. They'd been high school sweethearts, but high school had ended a long time ago. Since then, he'd travelled the world and won numerous awards as a journalist, and she'd successfully completed her schooling and training to become an ER doctor. They'd each done what they'd wanted to do, but she'd never forgotten him.

Her cell phone chimed just as she slid her feet into four-inch heels that would bring her five-foot three-inch frame as close as possible to eye-level with the best man's six-feet. A quick glance at the message made her heart leap into . She immediately dialled the familiar number.

"Rahee—what's wrong?"

"It's Sehun." Her sister’s voice sounded strained.

"What happened?" she asked, assuming that her sister was calling about some kind of medical emergency.

"He's not here."

Junhee exhaled a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Then what's the emergency?"

"Seyong went to the airport to pick him up and found out he never got on the plane."

The possibility that Sehun might not show up for the wedding filled Junhee with equal parts disappointment and relief. Disappointment because she'd wanted to see him again, to prove to herself that she was completely over her teenage crush. And relief because she was apprehensive about the reunion, in case she wasn't as over that crush as she wanted to believe.

What had started as infatuation had grown and deepened during the summer when she was fifteen. One day, she'd snuck over to the park with some table scraps for a stray dog that had been hanging around there—and found Sehun feeding the hungry animal. The dog didn't have a license or a tag, but he did have a collar with the name "Barkley" etched in the leather. For three weeks, Junhee and Sehun had made frequent trips to the park to give the animal food and water. She'd wanted to take Barkley home, but Rahee was allergic to dogs. Sehun had considered doing the same, but his mother wouldn't let any animals in her house. Their shared concern about the dog had been proof to Junhee that there was a soul-deep connection between them, and for a long time she'd believed they were destined to be together forever. She didn't believe in such things anymore.

Pushing the memory aside, she focused on her sister's present concern about the best man. "He probably took another flight."

"This is the third snag," Rahee said. "And Seyong will be so disappointed if Sehun isn't here for the wedding."

"He'll be disappointed, but nothing will stand in the way of his exchanging vows with the woman he loves."

Rahee exhaled a shuddery sigh. "You're right. I'm overreacting."

"Understandable," Junhee assured her.

"But you'll be at the church by six o'clock, won't you?"

"I'm leaving the hospital in ten minutes to deliver the favours to the hotel, and then I'll be right there," she promised.

After her sister's heartfelt thanks, Junhee disconnected the call and tucked her phone into her purse.

As she walked through the staff room, Dr Kim Himchan let out a wolf whistle. "Wow, Dr Jung Junhee. Where have you been all my life?"

"Dial down the charm, Himchan. You're going to make me blush."

He flashed a smirk that had made a lot of women blush—and more. "Seriously, it's a good thing I'm on call tonight, because you're going to give that ex-boyfriend of yours a coronary when he sees you."

"Maybe—if he's there," she told him.

Himchan's brows lifted. "Your best man's AWOL?"

"I thought you were my best man," she teased. "Well, mine and every other woman's."

"Some days it's a blessing, some days a curse," he said. "But since I'm going to be at the wedding tomorrow, I'm happy to pose as your date, if you want one."

She was touched by the offer. Shortly after Rahee had accepted Seyong's proposal, Junhee had worked a long shift in the ER with Himchan and, during a lull in the early hours, she'd confided her history with her sister's fiancé's cousin. And Himchan being Himchan, he no doubt remembered every word of that conversation.

"Thanks," she said sincerely. "But I can handle it."

He nodded. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," she agreed.

She passed the triage waiting room on her way to the door, pausing when she recognized a woman seated in one of the plastic chairs with a little boy in her lap.

"Hey, Seojung," she greeted the mother, then crouched down and gently touched the back of her hand to the child's cheek. He was pale and feverish, and his skin was clammy. "Who's this—" she wracked her brain for the names of her friend's two boys "—Minhyuk or Minki?"

"Minhwan." Seojung's smile was weary. "He's my third."

"I guess it's been a while," she noted, her attention already shifting to the child again. "How old are you, Minhwan?"

He held up two fingers, then unfurled a third.

"His birthday was last week," Seojung explained.

"What are his symptoms?"

"Fever, lethargy, stomach pains."

"Vomiting?"

Seojung shook her head just as poor Minhwan bent over and threw up all over Junhee's curve-hugging jersey dress.

Sehun rented a car.

He’d managed to reach Seoul without encountering any delays and the minute he had reached Seoul he had breezed through the counter checks and collected his bags. He was beyond tired and the idea of driving for more than four hours to Busan was something he was not looking forward to, but he honestly had had enough of plane rides. Besides, Sehun reasoned that renting would be better as he would have his own transportation while he was in his hometown. It had made sense until he hit the gridlock and construction delays that added almost an extra hour to his travel. He also hadn't anticipated that thoughts of Junhee would be his constant companion throughout the journey.

He had fond memories of her and all the days they'd spent together, but he was surprised to realize just how many memories he had. She'd been an integral part of the life he'd left behind. He'd missed her when he left, and had continued to miss her for a very long time afterward. Not that he'd admitted it back then, because he'd had plans for his life that didn't include his high school girlfriend.

Out of sight, out of mind—or so he'd wanted to believe. But occasionally, when he'd been sleeping in a cave in Afghanistan or shivering in a tent in Husavik or fending off rats in Deshnoke, it was dreams of Junhee that had helped him get through the night. The memory of her radiant smile had given him light in his darkest hours, and thoughts of her sweet kisses had kept him warm on the coldest days.

At sixteen, Junhee had been soft and sweet and innocent and loving. She'd given him everything he'd asked—and more. He'd loved her, but he'd still left her without looking back. Because he'd suspected that if he didn't get out of town right after graduation, he might never want to go. So he'd said goodbye to his hometown and to Junhee, but he'd never forgotten her.

From his cousin, he'd learned that she'd gone to medical school as she'd planned and returned to their quaint little town less than an hour away from the city to work in the ER at the local hospital. The last time he'd asked about her, Seyong had said she was engaged. Sehun hadn't asked again. And he'd refused to believe that his increasing dissatisfaction with his own life had any connection to the knowledge that she'd obviously moved on with her life—without him. After all, it was what he'd told her to do.

More than a year had passed since he'd learned of her engagement, so she was likely married by now. Which meant that her husband would be at the wedding with her. As unreasonable and unrealistic as it was, he didn't want to think about her being with another man, kissing another man, loving another man. So as he drove, Sehun cranked up the volume on the radio in an attempt to drown out the unwelcome thoughts.

When he got to the hotel, he left a message for Seyong. His cell phone had died en route, preventing him from checking in with his cousin, and he wanted to reassure the groom that he would be at the church for the rehearsal. Though his schedule was tight, Sehun indulged in a shower and took the time to shave three day's growth from his jaw, and he still managed to arrive at the church a full nine minutes before the scheduled six o'clock rehearsal.

Several vehicles were in the lot already, making him suspect that he was the last to arrive—second last, he amended, as another car pulled into the empty spot beside his while he took a minute to stretch his legs. The other driver exited her vehicle and Sehun caught a glimpse of shimmering dark curls out of the corner of his eye. But more than the curls, it was the quick and involuntary jolt of his heart that confirmed her identity.

"Jung Junhee."

Hearing her name, Junhee turned—and in that moment, she realized that having pasta vomited all over her wasn't the worse thing to happen to her today. It was coming face-to-face with Oh Sehun when she was frazzled, running late and dressed in a pair of washed-out hospital scrubs.

Though she was cursing inwardly, Junhee refused to let Sehun see that she was flustered. Reminding herself that she wouldn't have made it through medical school if she buckled under the first sign of pressure, she lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

"Hello, Sehun." She was pleased that her voice was as casual as his, that the cool tone didn't betray the thunderous beating of her heart.

"You look good." His gaze skimmed over her in a blatant perusal, and his lips curved in appreciation. "Doctor Jung."

She ignored the tingles that danced over her skin and heated her blood. "I'm glad you made it—Rahee wasn't sure that you would."

"I ran into some delays," he admitted.

She didn't ask for details. Partly because she didn't want to linger in the parking lot talking to the man she'd once loved, but mostly because Rahee would be worried about both her maid of honour and best man by now. "Well, we should go in so that she knows you're here now."

He fell into step beside her as she made her way toward the front doors of the church.

Though she was much less obvious in her scrutiny as he'd been, she couldn't resist checking him out. His dark brown hair had sun-kissed highlights, giving credence to the rumour that he'd spent the last several weeks in the Amazon. His warm, brown-coloured eyes had faint lines fanning out from the corners, evidence of the passing of time. The short-sleeved polo shirt he wore stretched over broad, powerful shoulders, and the tan-coloured khakis showed his long, lean legs to advantage. The boy she'd known in high school had come home a man—a man whose proximity made all of her womanly parts tingle.

"Look who I found in the parking lot," Junhee said when she walked into the vestibule where the bride and groom were waiting.

"Cutting it kind of close, little cousin," Seyong grumbled, but he gave Sehun a quick hug. Rahee was much less restrained. She threw her arms around Sehun and lavishly kissed both of his cheeks.

"Well, that's a much nicer welcome than I got from your sister," Sehun said, more to Junhee than Rahee.

"I'm so glad you're here," the bride-to-be told him.

"No way would I miss my cousin's wedding—especially when he's marrying the prettiest Miss Busan."

Rahee's cheeks filled with colour. "I was first runner-up."

"You should have won," he assured her.

"She won my heart," Seyong chimed in.

His fiancée beamed at him. "And that's much more satisfying than any crown."

Jinju, the wedding planner, left the minister at the front of the church and came to join them. "If everyone's here now, we should get started." She glanced around. "Where's the father of the bride?"

Rahee sighed and gestured to the cloakroom. “Arguing with the mother of the bride."

"Groom and best man—take your places at the front of the church," Jinju instructed, then she went to track down the errant parents.

Junhee's mother’s eyes widened when she exited the cloakroom and spotted Junhee. "What are you wearing?"

"Scrubs," she admitted. "There was an incident at the hospital that forced me to choose between punctual or appropriately dressed. I opted for punctual."

"You should have gone for appropriately dressed," her mother said reproachfully.

"You look beautiful, Cupcake," her father told his eldest daughter.

Junhee didn't know if he was trying to assuage the sting of her mother's disapproval or simply wanted to contradict his ex-wife, but she smiled at the blatant lie. "Thanks, Dad." Then, to Rahee, she said, "I'll sneak home to change before dinner."

"It doesn't matter," her sister insisted. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Mother-of-the-bride, you should already be seated," Jinju noted, in an obvious effort to keep everything on schedule.

The older lady waved a hand dismissively. "It's only the rehearsal."

"And the point of rehearsing is so that everyone knows what to do on the day of the wedding," Jinju pointed out. "Please take your seat."

Junhee sighed in relief when her mother finally complied.

Her father offered his arm to his youngest daughter. "Ready, Cookie?"

"So ready I wish it was the real deal instead of the rehearsal," Rahee said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.

"I hope you're always as happy as you are today," he told her, and the sincerity in his tone made Junhee's eyes sting with tears. And that was before he shifted his gaze to her. "And I'm sure you'll find someone who makes you just as happy someday, Cupcake."

She wanted to say that she was happy, that she didn't need a man to make her life complete, because it was true. But it was also true that she wanted what her sister had—she wanted someone to look at her the way Seyong looked at Rahee, as if she was the centre of his world and his reason for being. But her chances of ever finding that were slim when she hadn't even had a date in four months.

Junhee was grateful that Jinju's signal saved her from having to reply.

Junhee disappeared from the church as soon as the rehearsal was over. One minute she was there, chatting with her parents, and then she was gone. Sehun was disappointed, but he would catch up with her again at the restaurant where the bride and groom and their families were gathering for dinner.

Although she'd preoccupied most of his thoughts since he'd started his journey home, he'd accepted that their history was exactly that. But their three-minute conversation and the absence of either an engagement ring or wedding band on her finger gave him new hope for the present. There was still something between them, and he was confident that she felt it, too.

The waiters were pouring the wine when Junhee entered the private dining room of Valentino's. The question of where she'd disappeared to after the rehearsal was immediately apparent when she walked through the door. She now looked more like a fantasy than a doctor. Sehun didn't know that she was wearing a stretch-satin sleeveless dress with a sweetheart neckline and platform peep-toe pumps, he only knew that the display of feminine curves and mile-long legs delivered a punch of lust that knocked the breath out of his lungs. As she moved closer, he could see that her eyes were now highlighted by smoky shadow and her lips slicked with peach-coloured gloss.

She sat across the table from him, with his grandmother on one side of her and her father on the other. She divided her attention between them throughout the meal, talking and laughing easily—and completely ignoring him.

Trekking around the globe for the past dozen years, Sehun had let his work become his entire existence, and he had an impressive array of awards to show for it. But his nomadic lifestyle had made it next-to-impossible to sustain any kind of romantic relationship. He'd indulged in occasional extracurricular intimacies, but it had been a long while since he'd done so. Still, he suspected that his reaction to his ex-girlfriend now was less a consequence of that extended celibacy than it was about Junhee herself.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter—that making a move on the maid of honour too soon was a bad idea. But he couldn't stop watching her, and wanting her.

When dessert was finished and the guests started to say their good-byes, Junhee lingered to finish up her wine and Sehun slipped into the now-vacant seat beside her.

"You were so deep in thought you didn't eat your cheesecake," he noted.

"I've never been a fan of cheesecake."

"Which doesn't explain the little furrow between your brows."

"I was just wondering, looking at my parents and yours, if Rahee and Seyong have the first clue about what they're getting themselves into." She lifted her wine glass, then realized it was empty and set it down again.

"Probably not," he acknowledged. "But they're in love."

"Does that make them optimistic or foolish?" she asked him.

"You don't believe in happily-ever-after?"

"I haven't seen much evidence of it."

"Is that why you ended your engagement?"

She shifted her gaze back to him. "What?"

Sehun shrugged. "Seyong said you were engaged, but there's no ring on your finger and no significant other hovering around."

"It didn't work out," she told him.

"Your choice or his?"

"Does it matter?"

"No." All that mattered was that she wasn't engaged, she wasn't married and the attraction he felt now was even stronger and more compelling than what he'd experienced in high school.

He followed her to the door, waited while she hugged both her sister and his cousin, then accompanied her to her car.

"Aren't you going to ask if I'm married?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "You're not the type to settle down in one place with one woman."

He hadn't been. Certainly not when he was eighteen. But over the past few years, life on the road had lost some of its lustre. And when Seyong had asked him to come home for the wedding, the idea of home had tugged at him as much as his cousin's request.

The job that had been everything to him for so many years no longer fulfilled him, and seeing how happy Seyong and Rahee were together had made Sehun wonder if he'd ever have that kind of connection with someone. Then he'd seen Junhee again, and he'd realized that he'd already found that connection. The question now was: would the only woman he'd ever loved give him a second chance?

"People change," he said lightly.

"Well, if you did, and if you are married, it's hardly relevant to me."

"We used to be friends," he reminded her.

"We used to be a lot of things."

"Did you really get over me so easily?"

"I got over you." She pressed a button on her key fob to unlock her car door. "That's the only part that matters."

"No leftover feelings at all?" he asked.

"None," she assured him.

But Sehun had never been the type to walk away from a challenge, and he couldn't help but interpret her claim as just that.

"Let's test that theory," he suggested, and lowered his head to touch his mouth to hers.

She held herself perfectly still—for about three seconds. Then Junhee's lips softened and responded, and Sehun let himself sink into the kiss. Lifting his hands, he found and discarded the pins that held her hair in place, and the glorious mass spilled onto her shoulders. His fingers sifted through the silky strands, and he tilted her head to change the angle of the kiss. He slid the tip of his tongue over the y curve of her bottom lip, and she opened willingly to him.

Her hands came up to his chest, and if she'd offered the least bit of resistance, he would have backed off. Instead her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and she held on as her tongue danced with his in a slow and tant