My Perfect Husband

The Return

The phone rang just past midnight, sharp and sudden, slicing through the quiet of Jimin's apartment in New York. He glanced at the screen, his heart sinking when he saw the name—Father.

"Come home," Mr. Park said, his voice stern but aging. "Your stepbrother is getting married in a few days. I expect you to be there."

Jimin leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "Appa... it's the end of my semester. I have finals."

"I'm not asking," came the reply. "You are the eldest. This is your responsibility."

There was a long silence before Jimin finally sighed. "I'll be there in two days. After my last exam."

"Good," Mr. Park said, and for a moment, Jimin could hear the faintest relief in his voice. "I'll be waiting."

⸻

Two days later, Jimin landed in Korea under gray skies, his expression unreadable as he stepped out of the airport. It had been three and a half years since he left for the U.S., leaving behind a complicated home and the stepbrother he never truly accepted.

Before going to see his father, there was someone else he had to see—someone who made coming back feel a little warmer.

Sohee.

His girlfriend of four years greeted him outside her university campus with the same smile he'd fallen for years ago. They shared quiet laughter, lingering touches, and soft kisses beneath the cherry blossoms that had just begun to bloom. She was his peace in a life full of noise.

But peace didn't last.

"I have to go," he whispered against her forehead, glancing at the time. "My father's expecting me at the hotel."

Sohee nodded, though her fingers tightened around his. "Come see me again soon, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

⸻

Jimin arrived at the Grand Hotel just before sunset. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange as he stepped out of the car, adjusting the strap of his bag.

He was walking through the front lobby, distracted, when it happened.

A bump—soft but firm.

You stumbled back a step, and so did he.

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

Jimin looked up, his brows knitting slightly, but said nothing. There was no recognition in his eyes, and you felt the same. Just two strangers who collided for a moment.

"Excuse me," he murmured politely, stepping aside.

And just like that, he was gone—disappearing down the hallway, not knowing you were the woman about to marry his stepbrother.

And you, not knowing the storm that was quietly on its way.