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(almost 2 years later)

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Grandfather looked up from his book as Ji-hoo swept into the house, unwinding his scarf and dropping it unceremoniously on the white leather bench by the door. He slumped down onto the sofa across from Grandfather's chair and looked up at him with a wry expression.

"Your date went that well, did it?" Grandfather asked, raising one eyebrow in a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. Carefully marking his place, he set his book aside. "What was wrong with this one?"

Ji-hoo sighed. "What wasn't? For starters, she had a SHINee tattoo on her shoulder; she actually spent most of our two hours together telling me all of Lee Tae-min's likes and dislikes and showing me shots from his photo gallery on her phone," he said with a roll of his eyes. Since escaping his place in the spotlight at Shinhwa High School several years ago, Ji-hoo's patience with any form of fangirling was at an all-time low. Of course, he'd never liked it much to begin with. That was how Jan-di had attracted his notice in the first place: she was the first girl to come along who was immune to the thrall in which the dazzling F-4 usually held their female acquaintances. The sight of that tiny, angry girl standing up to the terrifying Jun-pyo, cowing him with her high kick, was a memory that Ji-hoo had called up often, and with barely suppressed glee, in those early days of knowing her. Even now, years later, it made him smile to think of the comically startled look on Jun-pyo's face, as if he couldn't process the fact that this dry cleaner's daughter, a virtual nobody, had laid him low—him, the crown prince of Shinhwa Group. Ji-hoo shook his head. Was it possible that they had once thought of Jan-di as a nobody? It was hard to believe. The F-4 didn't know it then, but that day was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

"It's not only that," continued Ji-hoo. "I asked her what she liked to do in her free time, and she listed her ten favorite department stores. When I got out my credit card to pay for the drinks, she simpered so hard I could practically see dollar signs in her eyes, just like one of those cartoon characters. I'm sorry, Grandfather. I know you were hoping for more." He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

Seok-young cast a worried look at his grandson. What troubled him wasn't that Ji-hoo hadn't taken to this latest girl. Honestly, after months of blind dates and meeting after meeting with the matchmaker, Seok-young knew that they were starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel of Seoul's eligible women. But they hadn't all been like that. Some of them had been charming girls – kind, cheerful, artistic, funny. At his grandfather's request, Ji-hoo had dutifully met with each one of them, taking them out to dinner, acting the perfect gentleman, and being generally accommodating. More than one of them had returned a glowing report to the matchmaker, certain that they had found Prince Charming at last. But Ji-hoo had never called any of them for a second date. Not one. In his heart, Seok-young knew that they were all guilty, through no fault of their own, of the same unforgiveable flaw: none of them was Geum Jan-di.

Behind his closed eyes, Ji-hoo was thinking along the same lines. In the months since the wedding, the pain of loss he had felt so keenly that day had largely subsided. He had been afraid that Jan-di's marriage would mean the end of the easy friendship they had shared, a prospect that frightened Ji-hoo when he remembered how lonely he had been before they met. He had the F4, that was true, but the deepest wells of his inner life had always been closed off, even to them. The wounded boy reeling from his parents' deaths and his grandfather's abandonment had dealt with the pain in the only way he knew how, by freezing over the part of his heart that made him vulnerable – the part that needed people. And then she had come, shouting and defiant, intruding into his stairwell and into his life. She was more alive than anyone he'd known, and she had pushed her way through the ice in his heart like a hot knife. He had told the truth the day he'd proposed to her as they walked by the sea: he didn't know when it had begun, but he had come to need her. He shouldn't have worried about losing her, though. The day after Jan-di and Jun-pyo had returned from their month-long honeymoon in Santorini, she had bounced unceremoniously into his house with an armful of souvenirs for Grandfather and a flash drive packed with vacation photos to share, sweeping aside any lingering awkwardness with her characteristic enthusiasm. Was it any wonder that no other woman had been able to measure up to her in his eyes?

As if the thought had conjured the reality, at that moment a happy, "Hello! Is anyone home?" rang out from the garden. "Grandfather? Ji-hoo?" It was the girl herself, waddling a bit under the weight of several bags of groceries and a visibly swollen belly, revealing her seven month pregnancy. The change in the two men was instantaneous. Seok-young's face broke into a broad smile, and Ji-hoo jumped up to open the door and run to her side. Over her objections, he took all of her bags and ushered her into the living room. "Sit down, Jan-di-ah," he insisted, indicating the sofa he had recently vacated.

"Nonsense," she said, pushing past him into the large kitchen, "I came to cook for you both! I know Ming-do-sshi has Friday nights off, and with Jun-pyo gone to New York for the week, I've been rattling around our place like the last bean in the pot." Catching Ji-hoo's look of concern, she added, "No need to worry, sunbae. I feel fine! And I'm going to make enough jjajangmyeon for an army. I'm starved!" He chuckled. Geum Jan-di's pregnancy appetite was becoming legend among the F4. According to Jun-pyo, she had put away a whole chicken by herself last week, leaving him nothing but broth and kimchi to eat for dinner. It was a good thing the young couple had insisted on moving to their own spacious apartment after the wedding. It was hard to imagine Mama Kang's reaction to such a display of unladylike voraciousness. Suddenly, Ji-hoo colored as he remembered the rest of that conversation in the F4 lounge. Privately, Jun-pyo had confided to them that Jan-di's appetite for food wasn't the only one that had kicked into overdrive since becoming pregnant. Though he had worded it as a complaint, it was hard to miss the boastfulness in his tone. Ji-hoo shook his head to clear his unwanted thoughts and left Jan-di to her chopping.

While she worked, Ji-hoo took a long shower, letting the hot water run over his neck and back, washing away all the stresses of the day. He had worked ten hours at the clinic before meeting his blind date for drinks. Since Jun-pyo didn't want Jan-di on her feet too much, Ji-hoo had taken on most of her patients, making for much longer days. Grandfather had offered to come out of retirement to help, but Ji-hoo wouldn't permit it. Grandfather's heart wasn't as strong as it used to be, and it had been a relief to be able to give him the restful retirement that he deserved after serving the community for so many years. No – if he, Ji-hoo, couldn't handle the steady stream of patients by himself, he would just have to contact the hospital and take on an intern to help him. Yes, that was the solution. The matter settled in his mind, he relaxed and enjoyed the rest of his shower.

In his bedroom, he toweled dry and put on clean, comfortable clothes. The delicious aroma of noodles, pork, and soybean sauce curled through the air, making him realize how hungry he was. He silently blessed Jan-di for her thoughtfulness. He was moving toward the door when he heard a sharp cry from the kitchen. "Jan-di!" he shouted, breaking into a sprint.

He reached the room just ahead of Grandfather to find her doubled up on the tile floor, clutching her abdomen in pain. Panicked, he dropped to her side. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I…don't know…" she moaned through gritted teeth. Then Ji-hoo saw something that made his stomach clench. Blood, a lot of it, spreading in a slow stain across Jan-di's skirt. She moaned again, and her eyelids drooped.

Frightened, he clasped her hands, hard. "Jan-di! Jan-di-ah!" he shouted at her, "Stay awake! Open your eyes!" He turned to his grandfather. "Call the hospital, quick! I'll get her to the car!"

Her eyelashes fluttered as she searched out his face. "Sunbae," she said weakly, "I'm afraid."

"Me too," he thought, gathering her carefully into his arms.

The physician softly closed the door of Jan-di's hospital room behind him and turned to address Ji-hoo and Seok-young. "Doctor Yoon, I'm sorry to say it is as you feared. We tried everything, but we couldn't save the child."

Ji-hoo grasped his wrist. "And Jan-di?" he asked.

"She had a placental abruption. We still don't know what caused it. She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stop the hemorrhaging. I believe she's out of danger. Now she just needs rest, and time."

Before he'd even stopped talking, Ji-hoo was pushing his way into Jan-di's room. It was completely dark inside, and the familiar smell of antiseptic filled the air. At first he thought she was asleep, but then he heard a small sob coming from the other side of the curtain that was drawn around her bed. Sweeping it aside, he let his eyes adjust to the lack of light until he could just make out a small, still shape huddled on the bed. He approached slowly, tentatively, as if afraid to spook her. Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, he felt for her in the dark. When his warm hand closed around her small, cold fingers, she suddenly moved, returning his grip convulsively, like a drowning victim clinging to a life preserver. The dam broke, and her sobs intensified. "Oh, sunbae," she wailed, and the sound of her misery and grief nearly tore his heart in half.

"I'm here," he assured her quietly. "I called Jun-pyo, and he got on the first flight home. He should be here by morning."

At this, a new freshet of tears burst forth. "H-how can I f-face him, sunbae? How c-can I t-tell Jun-pyo that I lost our b-baby?" Her breath hitched with every sob, and she swiped ineffectually at her tears as she fought with despair.

"Chingu, he's not going to see it that way," he said soothingly. "He'll be glad you're all right, and sorry that he wasn't here. The two of you are strong—you can face this together."

"He was so happy about this baby, Ji-hoo. We b-both were…" She wept on. Words, he knew from experience, were useless at a time like this.

Careful not to disturb her IV line, Ji-hoo stretched out next to her on the hospital bed and slid his arms around her, offering the silent comfort of his presence. He felt so helpless in the face of his friend's pain. Jan-di turned her head into his shoulder and let the tears come, crying as if she would never stop. Ji-hoo tightened his embrace, and for a long time, Jan-di knew only darkness and tears and the warmth of two arms holding on to her, keeping the raging storm inside her from blowing her away.

Seok-young came in around 4am and found them both asleep, Jan-di's head tucked under Ji-hoo's chin, as if for shelter. It moved him and worried him at the same time, but looking at Jan-di's closed eyes, red and swollen from weeping, his heart twisted, and he felt the same compulsion as his grandson to comfort and protect the precious girl who had just lost so much. She was like his own granddaughter, and he could not have loved her more if she had been. Quietly, he woke Ji-hoo. "You should go home and get some good sleep," he whispered. "I put a sign on the clinic door to let people know it won't open until noon today."

Reluctance painted Ji-hoo's features, but he didn't protest. Disentangling himself from Jan-di, he slid off the bed and straightened his clothes. "You won't leave her, will you?" he asked. "I don't want her to wake up alone."

"No, no," Grandfather said. "I'll stay." Satisfied, Ji-hoo gave the sleeping, tear-stained girl one last look and left the room.

He trudged slowly down the hallway, his thoughts full of Jan-di's sorrow. He thought of the days ahead for the couple and the pain that would be involved in emptying the nursery, packing up the baby clothes, and grieving for the loss of the future they had planned. He hurt for them both. After all, he had some personal experience in disassembling the architecture of a dream that didn't come true.

As he came around the last corner by the hospital's entrance doors, he was almost knocked down by a frantic Jun-pyo. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was even crazier than normal. Clearly, he had raced straight over from the airport. When he saw who he had run into, he grasped Ji-hoo's arms painfully. "Where is she, Ji-hoo? Is she okay? Is Jan-di all right?"

Ji-hoo looked into dark eyes that were wild with fear and love, and gave his friend a reassuring smile. "She will be," he said, "now that you're here."

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