It all began when Kang Geon-woo and his childhood friend were still in high school. They had grown up together, practically inseparable since childhood—neighbors, classmates, partners in mischief. Their dynamic was a constant blend of playful teasing and sarcastic banter, the kind that only years of closeness could create. Everyone around them assumed they would eventually end up together, though neither of them ever said such a thing out loud.

But as time went on, she began noticing the small things—how much she cared for him, how her chest tightened when he smiled, how her laughter always felt more genuine when it was because of him. She realized she was falling for him. Quietly, steadily, until one day she decided to confess.

That day, however, her world shifted.

"Hey," Kang Geon-woo had said with that reckless grin of his, leaning casually against the lockers, "I need to tell you something important."

Her heart raced. She thought—finally, maybe he felt the same.

"I like someone," he said, his tone lighter than usual, as though it were a relief to share.

Her breath caught. Before she could find words, a voice joined in. "Like me?"

It was Seo Ji-eun, her closest friend. Ji-eun slipped beside him, linking her arm through his. Their smiles matched, eyes bright with something deeper than mere affection.

"Yes," Kang Geon-woo replied, eyes softening in a way she had never seen before. "I like Ji-eun."

That moment shattered the quiet hope she had been nurturing. She buried her feelings that day, determined not to be the reason their love might falter. Because even if it hurt, she could see it—real, undeniable love in his gaze. Love he could never direct at her.

From then on, she distanced herself, yet Kang Geon-woo constantly pulled her back.

"Come with us! It'll be fun," he would insist, dragging her along on their dates.

Ji-eun, sweet and oblivious, would add, "Yes, we're not complete without you."

So she smiled, laughed, and played the role of supportive friend, all while feeling like the third wheel. She never let it show. For years, she carried her unspoken love like a secret burden. And just like that, high school ended.

University came with choices. Kang Geon-woo imagined they would remain the same, inseparable, connected no matter what. But for her, it was her chance to escape. To put miles between herself and her unrequited love.

"Different universities?" he asked, surprised.

She only smiled faintly.

Time passed.

Ten years later, Kang Geon-woo had built an empire. In Seoul, he had risen to become a successful businessman, silencing every doubt with sharp instincts and relentless drive. Beside him through it all was Ji-eun, now his wife. They had married after university, their bond only deepening with time. Their home was bright with laughter from their five-year-old daughter, whose mischievous energy mirrored her father more than her mother.

One morning in his office, Kang Geon-woo skimmed through a portfolio while his secretary entered.

"Sir, the representatives from the new company are here."

He set the papers aside. "Send them in."

The glass door slid open, and two figures stepped in—a man and a woman. The man carried a professional air, but it was the woman who drew all attention. She walked with elegance, confidence woven into every step, a quiet authority radiating from her.

Kang Geon-woo froze.

His eyes widened. His lips parted before curving into an involuntary smile. It was her—his childhood friend, the girl who had once been by his side through every stage of youth, the one he thought would always remain in his life.

He almost forgot himself, almost forgot that he was no longer the reckless teen she knew but the strict, cold CEO his employees respected—or feared. For a moment, the years fell away.

He rose quickly from his chair, extending a hand. "It's been a long time." His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed a warmth he rarely showed anyone outside his family.

She took his hand, and he gestured toward the chairs. "Please, sit."

As she settled, he lowered himself back into his seat, but his gaze lingered, studying her face as though confirming she was real. He wondered if she had forgotten him—or chosen to.