ALARM BLARING
"Rowan!!"
"RORI!!! GET UP!!"
I groaned, pulling the covers over my head to escape the booming voice. The satin sheets slipped just enough to reveal the glaring blue digits on the clock: 3:02 AM. My father, Ethan, stood at the foot of the bed, his gray hair falling across his forehead as he chuckled at my misery.
"We're going to miss our flight," he said, his tone sharp but amused.
The realization jolted me upright. "No!" I blurted, earning another laugh from him.
"Well, at least I know you miss home," he teased, turning toward the door as I scrambled out of bed.
"I'll be out in a minute," I muttered, already rushing to the bathroom. A quick shower, a messy bun, and my favorite airport sweats later, I grabbed my Gucci carry-on and matching suitcase. Sliding into my Nike sneakers, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out.
Downstairs, Nigel—our loyal head of security—was waiting with his suitcase. "Good morning, Dr. Park," he said with a bow.
"Nye," I laughed, "you've known me since before my first degree. Just call me Rowan."
He smiled warmly, kissing my forehead before taking my suitcase. "Even so, you're still my boss."
"And you're still family," I replied, pulling him into a quick hug.
"Happy Birthday, Dr. Park," he added with a grin.
"Thank you, Nye."
Before I could respond further, Ethan's voice thundered from across the hall as he barked into his phone. "Sage, your sister has enough on her plate! Finish the prototype and have the paperwork on my desk Monday morning. We'll be in Seoul by morning."
A pause, then Sage's voice crackled through the speaker: "Okay, Father. Tell Rowan I said Happy Birthday."
Ethan ended the call with a sigh and turned to me, his expression softening. "Happy Birthday, my beautiful daughter. I've been so preoccupied I forgot."
"Don't beat yourself up, Dad. I would've forgotten too if Avery hadn't reminded me," I said as the elevator dinged.
Minutes later, we were in the SUV, pulling away from the hotel and into the quiet Los Angeles streets. I stared out the window, my thoughts drifting to the last four months—the endless meetings, the suffocating deadlines, and the ache of being away from home. I missed Seoul. I missed the crowded streets of Myeongdong, the aroma of spicy kimchi stew, the laughter echoing through Itaewon's alleys. God, I've missed home.
But the warmth of nostalgia faded as reality crept in. Park Group's latest expansion deal loomed over me like a storm cloud. My father had agreed to another U.S. arrangement without consulting me—a decision that would tether us to North America for two more years. Freedom, it seemed, was the price of ambition.
The rest of the ride was quiet, save for Ethan's triumphant shouts as he crushed another level of Candy Crush. I exchanged a knowing glance with Nigel, who looked equally tortured by the sound effects.
Finally, the airport came into view. "Thank you, Ajusshi," I said to the driver, bowing politely.
"It's my pleasure, Dr. Park," he replied with a smile. "Will I see you again soon?"
"In a few months," Ethan answered as we headed inside.
Time Skip
Hours later, exhaustion clung to me like a second skin as we landed in Seoul. Simon, my father's assistant, had come to pick us up after Sage forgot to arrange a car. Ethan was already mid-lecture, his voice booming through the vehicle.
"No excuses, Simon! Do better!" he barked, tugging at Simon's sweater like a frustrated coach.
I sighed and cut in before Nigel could mouth something for the tenth time. "Appa, please stop. Simon didn't cancel because you lost your phone. We need this contract, so meet them tomorrow and let it go."
Ethan grumbled but quieted down, returning to his game. Simon shot me a grateful smile. "Thank you," he whispered.
"Love the new hair," I said, noting his blonde strands.
"Thanks," he chuckled, eyes flicking to the road.
The drive stretched on until the familiar silhouette of our home rose against the horizon—a sprawling estate nestled on eight acres, its cherry wood doors gleaming under the moonlight. When we first built it, I thought it was excessive. Now, it felt like a sanctuary.
But peace was shattered the moment I saw the red Ferrari parked in the driveway.
My heart leapt. Kael.
I barely waited for the car to stop before bolting inside, my pulse pounding. Down the hall, past the kitchen, to the workshop—the place he always waited for me. The door was ajar, lavender drifting through the air. My breath caught as I stepped inside.
Everything was as I left it—tools scattered, blueprints stacked—but my eyes locked on the figure sprawled across the sofa. Kael. His long black hair fell across his face, his chest rising and falling in sleep. Relief washed over me like a tide.
I sank onto the couch, brushing a stray lock from his forehead. For a moment, the world felt right again.
Later That Night
The quiet didn't last. My phone buzzed violently on the coffee table, dragging me from my thoughts. 11:59 PM. A message from Sage:
Sage: Happy Birthday, little sis. Sorry I forgot to get you guys. I was busy. See you soon.
I smiled faintly, replying before setting the phone down.
But peace was fleeting. The next morning, Avery's name lit up my screen—five missed calls and a string of texts that made my stomach drop."I need to talk to you about Kael."
The words blurred as panic clawed at my chest. Minutes later, I was in Nigel's car, racing through Seoul's crowded streets toward a café where Avery waited. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she pointed through the window.
"Look," she whispered.
Time slowed. My gaze followed her finger, landing on a woman—beautiful, poised, laughing. And across from her, Kael. My Kael. His hair fell like ink across his shoulders, his smile one I knew by heart. The jacket on his back? A gift from me. The earrings? Our engagement tokens.
My breath hitched. Tears burned. And then his eyes met mine.
"Rowan," he mouthed, his face crumbling.
I walked inside, every step heavy with betrayal. His voice was a whisper, desperate: "I love you. Please don't leave me."
But love wasn't enough. Not anymore.
"I love you too," I said, sliding the bracelet and ring into his trembling hand. "But I can't."
His tears fell as mine did, but I turned away, my heart splintering with every step. Outside, Avery was waiting, arms open, eyes wet. I collapsed into her embrace, the weight of five years crashing down.
"Do you want me to kick his ass?" she asked softly.
"No," I whispered. "Just hold me."
And she did—through the sobs, through the silence, through the storm of heartbreak that marked the end of everything.