The sea, their constant companion, had become a metaphor for Min Jae's own soul—once turbulent and unpredictable, now possessing a deep, abiding calm. The storms still came, of course. A difficult call from Ha-ru, stressed by the pressures of his PhD. A moment of inexplicable sadness when he found an old toy tucked away in a closet. But these were passing squalls, and the foundation Seo-jun had so beautifully painted held firm. The peace was not the absence of trouble, but the presence of a resilience that ran all the way to the core.
Their days had taken on the gentle, sacred quality of a well-practiced ritual. Mornings were for coffee on the deck, planning the day's small adventures. Afternoons were for work—Seo-jun in his studio, Min Jae in his study, their separate creative silences a harmonious duet. Evenings were for walking the shore, their conversation a meandering stream that followed the contours of their shared life.
