Page 44 of From Paris to Seoul (K-Drama Love Story #2)

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Baekhyun, we’re skipping so many steps. I mean… are we even dating? Am I your girlfriend?”

I took her hand, gently stopping her rambling. How is that not clear to her? Of course I wanted her to be my girlfriend. But… the way she questioned it, it felt like something was holding her back.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Seo-yeon?” I finally asked, slightly afraid of what her answer might be.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, the floor suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world as she kept staring at it.

“I want to… but my family…” Her voice trailed off as she chewed her lip. “They’re… not exactly open to new people.”

Ah. So that’s it.

Not the distance. Not the uncertainty. Me.

I shouldn’t be surprised. A chaebol daughter and a guy from a tiny restaurant (one that’s failed, no less)—our worlds couldn’t be more different. I could still remember that night at my place, the way she looked at the cramped space, the way she hesitated before sitting down.

Was she scared? Scared of what the future might look like if she stayed with someone like me?

I’m not na?ve. I know what people like her parents think of guys like me—unpolished, unworthy, temporary .

And maybe, deep down, she’s starting to think the same. Not because she wants to, but because she’s been raised to. Maybe she’s wondering if love—or whatever this thing between us is—can truly bridge the gap between our worlds.

I leaned back against the swing set pole, folding my arms. “So, let me get this straight. Even if I’m the nicest guy in the world—if I hold doors open, treat you right, do everything I can to make a good impression—it still wouldn’t change anything?”

She didn’t answer. But she also didn’t meet my eyes.

That silence was enough.

I exhaled through my nose and nodded slowly. Alright. Got it.

It stung, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I’m not going to spend my life trying to prove myself to people who might never see me the way she does. What mattered isn’t them. What mattered is her.

I reached for her hand again, lacing my fingers through hers. “Look, I know the way we met was crazy and... not exactly conventional. But that’s just how it happened. I like to think it was fate—that we met in Paris by chance and…”

I caught myself just in time before blurting out, and I fell in love with you , knowing it would probably freak her out even more. “We… shared something real,” I said instead.

As I said it, I felt a certainty rising within me, one that couldn’t be ignored.

I’m not letting her go.

“We don’t have to follow the usual steps just because that’s what everyone else does. I did that before, and my relationship still failed. And you…” I trailed off, realizing I don’t need to finish that sentence.

She finally seemed to consider my words, resting her chin on her hand as she thought it over. “Let’s say I agree,” Seo-yeon started, hesitation lacing her tone. “My family will disown me this time.”

I stared at her, not having an answer to that—but a slow grin tugged at the corners of my mouth anyway. “Then let’s make it worth it.”

Before I could say anything else, she threw her usual punch at my arm. I caught it mid-swing, grinning, and pulled her into a hug, her warmth pressing against me.

“When are you leaving?” Seo-yeon muttered, her voice muffled against my chest.

“In two weeks,” I said, pulling away just enough to look at her—but not letting go. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering a second longer than necessary before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“If you want this… will you at least think about it?” I whispered near her ear.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just stared at me in silence, her eyes searching mine, like she was weighing something only she knew.

I didn’t want to press her further, so I shifted my tone, still holding onto her hands. “So… you said you have something to tell me?”

She blinked, caught off guard, like she’d completely forgotten about it. But then, I noticed something else in her eyes. Was it guilt?

She huffed, nibbling on her lip awkwardly. “Well yes, but… promise you won’t get mad?”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “It depends,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “Is this going in the direction of ‘I signed us up for a cooking class’ or ‘I just murdered someone and need your help to dispose of the body?’”

She gave a nervous chuckle, but something in her eyes made me realize this wasn’t going to be as light as I’d hoped.

“I could’ve found your dad.”

I froze, staring at her for a solid ten seconds, unsure if I’d heard her right. “What?” The word came out low, disbelief creeping into my voice.

She fidgeted with her hands, clearly uncomfortable. “When I saw your dad’s name on that photo, I… I asked Ji-yong for help. He has connections, and—”

“Seo-yeon.” My voice was quieter than I intended, a chill creeping into it.

She bit her lip, her gaze dropping. “He lives nearby. He changed his name, but… he’s here.”

She reached for my hand, her fingers brushing mine, careful and hesitant. “I just thought… maybe you’d want to know. To tie up loose ends.” She glanced at me, her eyes searching for any sign of anger. “But… it’s up to you.”

I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening around the metal bar in front of me.

I had so many questions for her. Why did she try to find my dad? How did she and Ji-yong manage to track him down? And why would he change his name…?

I guess, maybe, all this information is easier to come by than I realized, but my family never tried.

We were too hurt by him—the way he just abandoned us without a word.

To tie up loose ends.

I’m not sure I know how.

The thought of facing him felt like stepping into a different life, one I wasn’t sure I could walk back from.

What would it even be like to see him? To listen to whatever justification he might offer?

And if I did—then what? Would it change anything?

Or would it just tear open a wound I’d spent years trying to close?

I looked down, fingers still gripping the metal bar.

Maybe it was better to just leave the past where it was. Maybe I didn’t need answers from him, not if it meant reopening all the old scars. But Seo-yeon… she was waiting for me to make a decision, offering me this chance.

“Are you sure about this?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her gaze steady but soft. “He… works in a shop in Anyang. I can give you his whereabouts if you want… and… you can do whatever you’d like with this information.”

She reached out to take my hand again, her fingers brushing mine gently. “I’m sorry, Baekhyun. I didn’t mean to be nosy or intrude on your personal life, but… it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

I squeezed her hand gently, unsure of what to say. “Why are you doing this?” I finally asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

She gave me a soft, almost hesitant smile. “Because I care about you, Baekhyun. And I just thought… if you want to know, you should have the choice.”

We stayed quiet, both lost in thought. When it was time to leave, I walked her home—stopping far enough to stay out of sight from anyone inside or the guards. The silence wasn’t awkward, just full of things we weren’t ready to say yet.

***

The next few days, I found myself near the neighborhood Seo-yeon had told me about—Anyang. I had no plan. No clue what I would say when I saw him. But I waited.

Hours passed. I leaned against a wall, my gaze fixed on the entrance of a small repair shop where he supposedly worked.

And then—

A man stepped out.

Older than I remembered, but unmistakably him. The same sharp features, the same build. He was carrying a small bag, adjusting his jacket as he locked up the shop.

There’s something strange about seeing your parents grow old. Especially when it’s a parent you haven’t seen in almost twenty years. He didn’t seem as tough as I remembered him. Now, he is just an old man.

Before I could stop myself, I moved.

“Hey.”

He turned, frowning slightly as his gaze landed on me.

And for a long, suffocating moment, we just stared at each other.

Then something flickered in his eyes—recognition, maybe.

I swallowed, my fists clenched at my sides. My mind spun with all the things I wanted to say.

Should I punch him? Yell at him? Ask why he left? Why he never came back?

But in the end, the only word that came out was—

“Why?”

His gaze lingered on me, confusion and something else—guilt?—flashing across his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he wasn’t sure where to start, or if he should say anything at all.

“Why?” I asked again, my voice barely above a whisper, but louder than I intended.

He shifted uncomfortably, as if the weight of those years pressed down on him. “I… I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice cracked, the words coming out hoarse, like they hadn’t been spoken in a long time.

I clenched my fists, the anger and confusion building up inside me. I let out a small, sarcastic chuckle. “You never wanted to hurt me? Then why leave? Why disappear without a word?”

The words stung as they left my mouth, but they felt necessary. He didn’t respond right away, and I was pretty sure he might turn away again, like the coward he was.

“I have a huge debt. I borrowed money from the wrong crowds. And I don’t want you, Ye-bin, or your mom to get involved in it.

” His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—guilt, regret, maybe even shame.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, his shoulders slumping low like a deflated balloon.

And for a moment, I thought he might break down and cry.

I couldn’t tell if his words were genuine or just desperation. But I realized I didn’t have the answer either. I wasn’t sure if I could ever forgive him. Or if I even wanted him back in my life.

The silence between us stretched again, heavy and stifling.

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

What could I even say to him? The man who had been absent for years?

The one who made me abandon my dreams and forced me to become the head of my family while I was still just a teenager?

His admission hung in the air—debt, the wrong crowds. Was that why he left? Was that why he disappeared? To protect us? Or to protect himself?

I met his eyes, and for the first time in all these years, I saw something—vulnerability. He wasn’t the strong, untouchable figure I remembered.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked, my voice quieter now, the anger replaced by a mix of confusion and hurt. “Why keep it a secret? Why leave us in the dark?”

“I was ashamed,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I thought if I stayed away, you’d be better off. I thought... I thought I could fix things without dragging you into it.”

“Baekhyun…” He called my name for the first time—the first time I heard it in almost twenty years. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I don’t deserve to be a part of your life. But if you ever need me… I will be there.” His voice hung in the air, heavy with regret.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “I just… wanted to tie up a loose end.”

His face fell, but he nodded, understanding, though it was clear that it hurt.

With that, I turned and began to walk away. I felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow. Relieved that he was still alive and well. Sorrow, because… I didn’t know if I should tell Mom and Ye-bin, or keep this to myself.

For a long time, I wondered why my dad left our family. Now at least I know. What to do with this information—that’s something I’ll deal with another day.