Show Him What He Lost
“I happened to overhear the writer and the PD talking.”
Minju studied him with a flicker of suspicion for a moment before nodding. “I'm fine. It was just a minor fender-bender.”
He held her gaze for a beat, then added in a low voice, “Even a minor accident deserves a proper checkup at the hospital. You should get looked at at least once.”
His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was something in his eyes — a quiet concern — that made her heart lurch.
Because somehow, it felt genuine.
“I'll keep that in mind.”
Before he could say anything more, Minju hurried her steps. She dug her toes into the incline of the uphill path, yet the sound of his footsteps trailing beside her kept needling at her attention. He wasn't saying a word, and still her breath came strangely short.
Minutes that felt like hours slipped by, and the lodging building she'd thought impossibly far finally loomed ahead. Whether it was the weight of the suitcase or simply how drained she felt walking beside him, all she wanted was to shut the door behind her, get inside, and lie down.
“Well then, get some rest.”
Just as Minju turned to go, a low voice caught her.
“Seo Minju.”
At the sound of her own name leaving his mouth for the first time in ten years, her feet stopped of their own accord. That soft, deep resonance she had once ached so desperately to hear dropped straight through her chest like a stone.
She squeezed her eyes shut, steadying her trembling breath, and the moment she opened them again she found herself staring directly into a camera lens. Her flustered expression had surely been captured in full. Gritting the inside of her cheek, she smoothed her face and turned around slowly. Kwon Seokjun was already waiting, his eyes meeting hers, one corner of his mouth tilting up in a slanted half-smile.
“Enjoy your date.”
Beep.
The door of the lodging closed behind her.
The instant she set the suitcase down, every ounce of strength drained out of her body. Afraid she'd collapse right there in the entryway if she let her guard slip even a little, Minju scraped together the last of her energy and dragged herself toward the bed. The moment the mattress touched her knees, she crumpled onto it.
It had been barely half a day, and yet she felt as though she'd burned through ten days' worth of energy at once. The one mercy was that every contestant had been given a single room — no need to worry about anyone else's eyes on her. Not that it mattered much, considering cameras had been installed in every corner of the room anyway.
“Ha…”
Minju sat with her back naturally turned to the camera and let out a short sigh. His parting words kept circling in her head, over and over.
She couldn't tell if it was sarcasm, a joke, or the truth. What business was it of his whether she went on dates with anyone? Why had he appeared out of nowhere and shaken loose a heart she'd sealed away so carefully?
She'd been doing so well at forgetting. No — she'd been almost there.
The Kwon Seokjun she'd faced after ten years was far more composed than the man in her memories. And that was exactly what made him feel so foreign, so uncomfortable. Her fingertips trembled faintly. He'd only said her name once — so why was her heart in such an uproar?
Get a grip, Seo Minju. Do you really want to be at that man's mercy again? Once was more than enough.
Right up until she came here, her mindset had been light — nothing more than my parents want me to try, so fine, I'll give it a shot. But standing in front of him again had changed everything. The sight of him treating her so coolly, so effortlessly unbothered, made her angry — and above all, it wounded her pride. He was still an unhealed wound to her, while to him she was… apparently nothing at all.
That was what she couldn't bear.
So she made up her mind. She would show him — flaunt it, even — just how happy she was.
I'm living just fine without you. Did you think you were the only man on earth? Kwon Seokjun, I'm going to make you feel, down to your bones, exactly what a remarkable woman you let slip away!
She wanted him to regret it. Desperately, utterly regret it.
And for that, business as usual wouldn't cut it. Like the other contestants on the show, she had to actively request dates, put her charm on full display. She would leave this place as a couple with a good man — so her parents could stop worrying, so her younger brother would fret no more. And above all, so that Kwon Seokjun would writhe with regret.
“That's right, Seo Minju. Show him.”
Murmuring the words like a self-administered spell, she pressed her lips into a firm line. Then she rose from the bed, dragged over the suitcase abandoned by the door, and began to unpack.
Late afternoon, as the sunlight began its slow slant toward evening, Minju stood waiting for her date at the entrance of the resort walking trail. The hem of her sky-blue dress swayed lightly in the breeze. The hairstyle she'd redone again and again in front of the mirror still felt awkward, but today of all days, she had to look pretty.
No — she wanted to look pretty.
Just then, footsteps sounded behind her. Minju turned slowly to find Han Sangho approaching, a bright smile on his face.
“Did you wait long?”
His cheerful voice drew an easy smile from her in return. “Not at all. I just got here myself.”
Sangho stopped in front of her, meeting her eyes. “Walking over here, I did a double take when I saw you standing there.”
“Why?”
“Because we're practically in couple outfits.”
Only then did Minju take a proper look at what he was wearing — a sky-blue shirt and white cotton pants, the very same colors she had on. The palette matched so uncannily that they truly did look like a couple. In his suit at their first greeting he'd radiated a mature, distinguished air, but dressed down like this he looked every bit her age.
“You're right. I guess we're in sync.”
“Off to a good start, then. Shall we?”
When Sangho gestured toward the path, Minju nodded, and the two strolled toward a café inside the resort, their conversation easy and warm. The café was a cozy space with the sea visible through floor-to-ceiling windows, a faint aroma of coffee drifting through the air along with soft jazz. They sat facing each other on the terrace, where the cameras had been pre-installed, and ordered iced coffees. When they looked up at the same moment, their eyes met — and they both burst out laughing at once. The cameraman and staff could only watch the two of them with bewildered expressions.
Sangho asked with a smile, “What was that laugh for?”
“Nothing. What about you?”
“I'm just happy.”
Minju blinked, momentarily thrown. She'd assumed he'd laughed for the same simple reason she had — his answer caught her off guard. “I honestly didn't expect you to pick me as your first impression.”
“Same here.”
“If it's not too rude to ask — why did you choose me?”
The truth was, Kwon Seokjun's sudden appearance had rattled Minju so badly she hadn't had the presence of mind to properly look at any of the other male contestants. Then she'd remembered Han Sangho, the man whose eyes had met hers during the introductions. She'd chosen him simply because his smile — unlike someone else's — put her at ease.
“I like the way you smile.”
“The way I smile?”
Sangho laughed as if the answer had surprised him. “When someone's smile looks natural, that means they smile a lot in everyday life. And watching a person like that… it puts me in a good mood for no reason at all.”
“That's fair, but—” Sangho paused, choosing his words, then smiled gently. “Strange thing is, whenever I look at you, the corners of my mouth lift higher, and more often, than usual. I can't help it.”
“I'm not that entertaining.”
When Minju laughed in embarrassment, Sangho shrugged. “Then that's an even bigger problem.”
“Why?”
“If you laugh at someone even when they're not funny… that means they're genuinely charming. Doesn't it?”
Minju stifled a laugh. His tone was light, but there was sincerity threaded through that smile. And yet, strangely, it didn't feel like a burden. She'd engaged with the conversation at first purely to show Kwon Seokjun how well she was doing, but the more she talked with Sangho, the more he seemed like a genuinely good man.
Somehow, she had a good feeling about this. Perhaps it really was time to forget the old connection and move forward. She knew it was a hasty judgment, but the giddy flutter of an emotion she hadn't felt in so long left her head spinning with possibilities.
When the buzzer on the table vibrated, Sangho sprang up to fetch the coffees.
“Thank you. I'll enjoy it.”
“I should be the one thanking you. You're the one paying, remember?”
When they'd first entered the café, Sangho's phone had happened to ring. He'd insisted on treating her, worn an apologetic expression, and stepped outside to take the call — and in that window, Minju had quietly gone to the counter and settled the bill herself. The truth was, she'd planned to pay from the start. She was grateful he'd chosen her, and even more grateful, deep down, that he'd spared her from being embarrassed in front of Kwon Seokjun.
Talking with Sangho was delightful. He defused the mood with just the right jokes and quick wit, yet always listened attentively when she spoke. Best of all, their sense of humor clicked perfectly — she laughed for so long she forgot the cameras were rolling entirely.
A short break was called while the tapes were changed. Minju took a sip of her iced coffee, and the heat that had risen in her seemed to cool, if only a little. Setting down her cup, she glanced absently out the window — and saw two people walking slowly along the sunset-drenched trail.
One was Na Seonyoung, in a red dress that left nothing of her figure to the imagination. And the man beside her, his back turned, looked familiar… who was that?
Minju narrowed her eyes — and the moment she placed him, her face went rigid.