Page 63 of From Paris to Seoul

Am I really ready for this?

I need to clear my head, to sort through everything swirling in my mind. So, when Baekhyun texts me later that day, I figure meeting him and talking things through might help.

Funny—this might actually be our first real date.

I arrived at the charming café at the time we had agreed on and spotted him already seated at a table.

The café was decorated with vintage ornaments—a phonograph sat in the corner beside large bookshelves—and it was pleasantly uncrowded, a big plus for us. Even though we were just minor actors, there were still times when people recognized us in public, and the last thing I needed right now was a scandal or rumors.

Baekhyun looked more exhausted than usual—his hair slightly messy, faint shadows under his eyes.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I sat down.

He let out a slow breath and said simply, “Met my dad.”

I blinked. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a long moment before looking back at me.

“It was… weird,” he finally said. “Weird to see him after almost twenty years. I don’t even know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

I stayed quiet, giving him space to say as much or as little as he wanted.

“He told me he had a huge debt. Borrowed money from the wrong people, left because he thought it was the only way toprotect us.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Have you told your mom? Or Ye-bin?” I asked gently.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, and nodded. “Yes… but I don’t know if I should.”

A beat of silence. I reached for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. He squeezed back but didn’t say anything.

Guilt pricked at my chest. I was the one who started this. The one who gave him his father’s whereabouts, thinking it was something he needed.

But now, looking at him—at the way he seemed torn between anger and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name—I wondered if I had done the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I shouldn’t have…”

“No.” He cut me off, his voice firm yet gentle. “Thank you.”

He met my gaze, and for the first time, there was a quiet sincerity in his eyes—a steadiness that hadn’t been there before.

“I don’t think I’d forgive myself if I never saw him again… It’s just—” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Family is complicated, you know?”

I nodded. I did know. It reminded me of my own situation at home.

A small pause, and then he continued, “Also, my mom decided to move to the village with Auntie. She’s closing down the restaurant.”

I looked at him, surprised. “Oh, really? Then… where will you and Ye-bin live?”

“I’m looking for an apartment in Seoul for Ye-bin, but it’s not easy,” he said with a weary smile. “But we finally found one. Today we visited six apartments, and one in a good area accepted my deposit, so she’s all set.”

He continued, “And I’ll figure out my own place when I get back from Japan.”

Right. Japan.

Only a few more days before he left for Japan, and I still hadn’t made up my mind.

He hadn’t brought up his offer again, and I had a feeling he was holding back—afraid of pushing me too hard.

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