The bakery bell rang just as Kwang-su reached across the counter, flicking a puff of flour onto Jun-seo's cheek.
"Will you stop?" Jun-seo growled, brushing it off. "You're like a five-year-old with a crush."
Kwang-su grinned. "Exactly."
Jun-seo tried to stay serious, but his smile betrayed him. Before he could retaliate with a spoonful of whipped cream, a soft voice called from the door.
"Excuse me… is this Jin-woo's bakery?"
They both turned.
A tall woman stood poised at the entrance. Her clothes were crisp, her hair styled into an elegant bun under a sunhat. Her sharp gaze softened as it fell on Kwang-su.
"You must be… Kwang-su."
"Uh…" Kwang-su blinked. "Yeah. That's me."
She stepped closer. "I'm your grandmother."
Jun-seo nearly dropped the piping bag.
In the back room, Jin-woo was adjusting a ribbon on a fresh cake box when he heard it—the voice he hadn't heard in nearly forty years.
"Hye-ran," he said as he entered the front room, his tone immediately taut.
"Hello, Jin-woo," she said sweetly. "It's been a long time."
"Not long enough," he muttered.
"I came to meet my grandson," she replied, cool and calm. "And… perhaps reconnect."
Jin-woo narrowed his eyes. "Reconnect? Now?"
Before she could respond, a warm voice entered from the kitchen.
"Jin-woo, I finished packing the almond puffs—" Mr. Min emerged, cheeks slightly flushed from the heat. He smiled shyly. "Oh, I didn't realize we had company."
Hye-ran's eyes slid over him with an assessing look.
"And who's this?" she asked.
Min fidgeted, stepping beside Jin-woo. "I'm Min. Jun-seo's grandfather. And… Jin-woo's—um, his—"
"My partner," Jin-woo said firmly, wrapping an arm around Min's shoulder with quiet finality.
Hye-ran raised a brow. "Partner?" Her voice was lined with something like disdain. "I didn't realize Jin-woo had a… type."
Min blinked, taken aback.
Jin-woo's eyes went cold. "Watch your tone."
Hye-ran gave a tight smile. "I just meant—he looks so gentle. Fragile, even. I suppose you prefer the quiet ones now?"
Min looked down, holding the edge of his apron.
Jin-woo's jaw clenched. "He is gentle. And kind. And better than anyone I've ever known—including you."
Min tugged softly on Jin-woo's sleeve, whispering, "It's okay…"
"No, it's not," Jin-woo said, louder this time. "You don't get to come in here and insult him just because you think you still matter to me."
Hye-ran's eyes darkened. "I came for Kwang-su."
"You've met him. Now leave."
"I also came for you."
"You're too late," Jin-woo said sharply. "You were too late the day you walked out on me. And I've been with someone better ever since."
In the kitchen, Jun-seo whispered, "Your grandma's a total villain."
Kwang-su crossed his arms. "Yeah. And she's messing with the wrong team."
"I'm gonna bake her a lemon tart so sour she reconsiders her entire personality."
Later that evening, Min sat beside Jin-woo on the bakery bench, still a little quiet.
"Did I make things worse?" he asked softly.
Jin-woo turned to him. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Min glanced down at his hands. "She said I was fragile…"
"You're gentle," Jin-woo corrected. "That's not weakness. That's why I love you."
Min blinked. "You do?"
"I told you a thousand times."
"I like hearing it again."
Jin-woo leaned over, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You'll hear it for the rest of your life."