Nari's POV
The bell above the tea shop door chimed, and I looked up from wiping the counter, expecting another college student looking for cheap caffeine.
Instead, a man in a tailored charcoal suit stepped inside.
He moved like a shadow—quiet, deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning the shop with the precision of someone used to assessing value. His face was unreadable, but there was something in the way he held himself that screamed money and power in a way even Jihun didn't.
My fingers tightened around the rag.
Oh no.
Because I knew that face.
Jae Park
CEO of Park Group.
Jihun's father.
For a second, neither of us moved. Then, with terrifying calm, he walked toward the counter.
"You're Kang Nari," he said. Not a question.
I swallowed. "Yes."
He studied me for a long moment, then glanced around the shop—at the worn wooden tables, the mismatched chairs, the faded teapots Halmeoni refused to replace. His expression didn't change, but I could feel him calculating.
Then, to my shock, he sat down.
"I'll take whatever you recommend," he said.
I blinked. "You… want tea?"
A flicker of something—amusement?—passed over his face. "Is that unusual?"
"No! I just—" Thought you were here to threaten me. "I'll make you something special."
I turned toward the shelves, my hands shaking as I reached for the oolong. Behind me, I could feel his gaze like a weight.
Why is he here?
Does he know Jihun comes here?
Is he about to buy the building and bulldoze it?
I forced myself to breathe.
Then—
CRASH.
Ssukda, the shop's resident disaster cat, launched himself from the top shelf, sending an entire row of tea canisters tumbling directly onto Park Jae's polished dress shoes.
I froze.
Ssukda, pleased with himself, sauntered away.
Park Jae looked down at the scattered tea leaves now dusting his probably-six-figure shoes.
Silence.
Then—
A chuckle.
I whipped my head up.
Park Jae was smiling. Not a smirk, not a cold corporate grin—a real, genuine smile.
"I see why my son likes this place," he said, brushing tea leaves off his pants.
My mouth fell open.
Before I could respond, the door chimed again.
And there, standing in the doorway, eyes wide—
Jihun.
---
Jihun's POV
The moment I pushed open the tea shop door, my breath stopped.
There, sitting at Nari's counter like it was nothing—like this wasn't the one place in the world that belonged to me—was my father.
His back was to me, but I knew the exact angle of his shoulders, the way his fingers curled around a teacup. Elegant. Controlled. Calculating.
Nari stood frozen behind the counter, her fingers gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her eyes flicked to me—wide, startled—and something in my chest twisted.
I moved before I could think.
"Father."
The word left my lips before I could stop it, rough and unfamiliar in my own voice.
He turned, slow, deliberate. His expression didn't change, but his gaze sharpened—taking in my stance, the way I'd stepped slightly in front of Nari without realizing.
"Jihun." He set his cup down with a quiet click. "I was just enjoying your favorite tea."
The air in the shop thickened.
Nari's breath hitched behind me.
I didn't look at her. Couldn't.
Because my father was still watching me, his dark eyes seeing everything.
And for the first time in years, I had no idea what he was thinking.
The silence stretched between us—heavy, suffocating.
My father's gaze didn't waver. He didn't demand an explanation. Didn't ask why I was here. Just waited, the way he always did, forcing me to be the first to break.
I clenched my jaw.
Nari shifted behind me, the soft rustle of her apron loud in the stillness. I could feel her confusion, her fear, the unspoken question hanging between us—What happens now?
Then, without warning, my father stood.
The chair scraped against the floor, the sound jarring.
Nari flinched.
I didn't.
He straightened his cuffs, slow, deliberate. Then he looked at me—really looked at me—and something in his expression shifted. Just slightly.
"You've been coming here often," he said.
Not an accusation.
An observation.
I didn't nod. Didn't deny it.
He exhaled, almost amused. "I see."
Then he turned to Nari.
She stiffened, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter.
But my father just inclined his head—polite, almost respectful. "The tea was excellent."
Nari blinked. "I—thank you."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crisp bill, and set it on the counter. "Keep the change."
Nari opened her mouth, then closed it.
My father didn't wait for a response. He walked past me, pausing only when our shoulders nearly brushed.
"Jihun," he said, voice low. "A word outside."
It wasn't a request.
I glanced back at Nari.
Her eyes were wide, uncertain.
I hesitated—then gave her the smallest nod. It's okay.
Then I followed my father out into the cold.
The moment the door shut behind us, the tension snapped.
My father turned, his expression unreadable. "You care about her."
Not a question.
I didn't answer.
He studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "You think I'm here to interfere."
I stiffened.
He shook his head. "I came because I wanted to understand."
The wind bit at my skin, sharp and unforgiving.
My father's voice softened—just slightly. "You don't bring anyone home. You don't speak about your life. And then suddenly, you disappear every afternoon to a tea shop in a back alley?" He paused. "I needed to see why."
I swallowed hard.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "She's important to you."
It wasn't a question this time either.
I met his gaze—and didn't look away.
Something flickered in his eyes—understanding, maybe even approval. Then he clapped a hand on my shoulder, brief but firm.
"Good."
That was all.
He turned and walked to his car without another word.
I stood there, frozen, as the engine purred to life.
Then the window rolled down.
My father didn't look at me as he spoke.
"Bring her to dinner on Sunday."
The window rolled back up.
The car pulled away.
And I was left standing there, staring after him, my heart pounding in my chest.
Back Inside
The bell chimed as I pushed the door open.
Nari was still behind the counter, her hands gripping the edge like she was afraid the ground might disappear beneath her.
Our eyes met.
Silence.
Then—
"What just happened?" she whispered.
I exhaled.
Then, for the first time in years, I spoke without thinking.
"He likes you."
Her eyes widened.
And just like that—the world shifted.