The living room was still and tense, the clock's steady ticking marking the minutes as Hye-su and Hae-won waited. The boy who had let them in was upstairs now, leaving them alone in their uneasy silence. They had come here expecting answers—or at least clarity—but so far, all they'd found were more questions.
And then, the front door creaked open.
A gust of cool morning air swept into the room as a figure entered—the man they'd been waiting to see.
Jin-ho stepped inside, the wooden floor creaking beneath his boots. He was barely recognizable from the version they remembered. A thick stubble lined his jaw and chin, giving him a rugged, slightly weathered look. His once short and neat hair had grown wild and long, tied haphazardly into a loose man bun that gave him an air of nonchalance, as though grooming had become an afterthought. He wore a black jacket over a plain shirt, his casual jeans dusted with dirt as if he'd been out in the fields.
"Yoon-jae! Help your mom with the groceries!" Jin-ho's voice echoed through the house, rough but full of familiarity as he called out for the boy. He hadn't yet noticed the two women seated in the living room.
But then, mid-step, his gaze shifted—and his eyes landed on Hye-su and Hae-won. He froze for just a beat, processing the unexpected sight of the two figures from his past sitting there in his present. His lips quirked into an odd, lopsided smile, the kind that spoke of amusement mixed with a hint of discomfort.
"Well…" Jin-ho said, scratching the back of his neck. "You two are early."
Before either Hye-su or Hae-won could respond, the sound of footsteps came from behind him, and a second figure stepped through the door—a woman.
She looked to be in her early thirties, with soft brown eyes and an easy, relaxed posture that suggested she was comfortable in her skin. Her dark hair, slightly tousled from the wind outside, was loosely gathered over one shoulder. She wore a cosy cardigan over a simple blouse and jeans, and her cheeks were flushed from the morning's cool air.
"Yoon-jae, did you hear the call?" she called out gently toward the stairs, balancing a paper bag filled with vegetables.
But then, following Jin-ho's gaze, her eyes landed on the two unfamiliar women in the living room. Her brows lifted slightly in surprise.
"Oh... visitors?" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, a small crease forming between her brows as she adjusted the groceries in her arms.
The air thickened with unspoken questions, tension quietly building as all four adults stood in the strange intersection of the past and present, each unsure of what to say next.
Footsteps thudded lightly down the stairs as Yoon-jae reappeared, his small face still wearing a look of innocent composure. He stopped halfway down, noticing the weight of the silence hanging between the adults in the room. With a slightly awkward, matter-of-fact tone, he explained.
"I let them in. They said they had business with Uncle Jin-ho."
The word uncle landed like a breath of fresh air for Hye-su, and she finally exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The tension in her chest loosened, and some of the strange, complicated feelings she had bottled up slowly began to dissipate. Whatever confusion she had been wrestling with about the boy's identity dissolved into a simple fact: Yoon-jae wasn't Jin-ho's son—just his nephew.
Satisfied with his part done, Yoon-jae gave a quick grin and ran outside to help with the groceries, letting the screen door slam gently behind him.
The woman—Jin-ho's sister—moved toward the kitchen with easy familiarity, calling over her shoulder.
"I'll bring out something to drink."
With the quiet shuffle of domestic life in the background, Jin-ho plopped onto the couch across from Hye-su and Hae-won. His posture was casual, one arm draped along the backrest, but his expression held a flicker of nerves.
"You two really didn't waste any time," he said, attempting to break the awkward silence. "I thought I'd have at least a couple of hours. Figured I'd help Ha-eun with the groceries first."
As if summoned by her name, Ha-eun returned from the kitchen, carrying a glass pitcher of water and two mismatched cups. She placed them gently on the coffee table between the three, glancing at the two women with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry if I stole Jin-ho from you for a bit," Ha-eun said softly. "I knew you were coming, but... well, groceries wait for no one."
She gave a light laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then, more to herself, she mumbled under her breath with a wistful smile.
"I can't believe my little brother finally managed to reconnect with his old friends."
Jin-ho shot her an exasperated look, hissing.
"Ha-eun, seriously..."
With a playful roll of her eyes, Ha-eun waved him off and headed back toward the kitchen, leaving the three old friends to their reunion.
Jin-ho chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he looked between Hye-su and Hae-won.
"Yeah, that's my sister," he admitted sheepishly. "She's... well, she's like that."
He gave a small shrug.
"And, yeah. The boy just now, Yoon-jae, is my nephew."
The revelation settled over Hye-su and Hae-won like a strange relief, easing one more knot in the complicated tangle of emotions they had been carrying. The weight of years, misunderstandings, and assumptions seemed to shift ever so slightly.
Now, with one mystery solved, they found themselves still sitting in the living room, surrounded by an air thick with both nostalgia and uncertainty—plenty more left to unravel between the three of them.
Jin-ho leaned forward, grabbing the pitcher with one hand and filling three glasses. He handed the first to Hye-su, the second to Hae-won, and poured a third for himself. As the women took their drinks, Jin-ho casually raised his glass and took a sip, letting the cool water ease his nerves.
Just as he was swallowing, Hae-won—ever the bold one—blurted out.
"Honestly, I deadass thought you were married, Jin-ho. And that Yoon-jae was your kid or something."
Jin-ho choked hard, water shooting back up his throat. He coughed violently, thumping his chest, water droplets spilling down his chin. Hye-su, quick to react, pulled a packet of tissues from her bag and passed them over. Jin-ho took them gratefully, dabbing at his face, still wheezing between coughs.
Once he had caught his breath, he gave Hae-won a scandalized look.
"No way. You guys actually thought that?"
Hae-won shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"What were we supposed to think? You never told us anything about your family. And then we show up at a house like this, meet a kid who looks just like you..." She trailed off with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on, can you blame us?"
Before Jin-ho could respond, Ha-eun's voice floated in from the kitchen, loud enough to ensure they could all hear her.
"Yeah, no surprise there. Ever since Jin-ho moved in, he's been a terrible influence on Yoon-jae."
The sound of vegetable sizzling filled the air, and soon after, Ha-eun's silhouette appeared briefly at the kitchen entrance as she stirred a pan.
"That's why Yoon-jae acts just like him now—copying all his bad habits."
Jin-ho rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.
"That's just genetics, not influence," he looked back at the women and shrugged. "Yoon-jae looks a bit like me because Ha-eun and I are siblings, obviously. Perhaps our genes are too strong in this family."
Hye-su chuckled, the tension in the room lifting ever so slightly, but her gaze lingered on Jin-ho as if processing how far he'd fallen off their radar over the years.
Jin-ho sighed, swirling the water in his glass.
"Anyway... ever since I left NexaCorp, I let go of everything. My job, my connections... you name it. With no money to fall back on, I ended up here. Been crashing at my sister's place for the past few years now."
He gave a half-hearted chuckle, though there was a sadness to it as if admitting it out loud brought a sense of finality.
"Not exactly the glamorous life you'd expect, huh?"
Hae-won leaned back, eyeing him thoughtfully.
"It's not about glamour. But damn... you really went off the grid, didn't you?"
Jin-ho gave her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Guess I did."
There was a moment of silence between them, filled only by the clatter of pans in the kitchen and the ticking of the wall clock. The years of separation had created a gap, but now they were slowly starting to bridge it—one awkward, honest conversation at a time.
The room fell into a comfortable, if tentative, silence. Jin-ho leaned back on the couch, fingers loosely holding his glass, his gaze wandering toward the window as sunlight filtered through the thin curtains. Hye-su and Hae-won exchanged a glance, the kind that only old friends share—filled with unspoken questions, unresolved emotions, and the weight of time that had passed too quickly.
In the kitchen, Ha-eun hummed softly as she cooked, the homey sounds grounding them in this surreal reunion. The wall clock ticked steadily, marking the passage of this fragile moment as if giving everyone a brief reprieve to gather their thoughts before the next inevitable wave of conversations hit. And for now, they let the silence be, knowing that some answers—like Jin-ho himself—would reveal themselves in their own time.