18: what kept him away

**JASMINE POV**

We spent the next few days easing into a rhythm that felt, for the first time in longer than I could remember, entirely uncomplicated  mornings at the Korean team's offices closing out the last details of the deal, afternoons wandering wherever Japheth's Korean was good enough to get us lost and found again, evenings falling into easy conversation that never once felt like it was building toward an argument.

Alex picked us up on our last full day in the city to take us to his family's countryside home, a traditional hanok an hour outside Seoul, insisting we couldn't leave the country without seeing "real Korea" instead of just the parts that came with room service.

The house was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache a little  stone walls, a clay tile roof, autumn leaves scattered across a small gravel courtyard with a pond at its center. Alex walked us through it with obvious pride, explaining the underfloor heating system, the mulberry paper walls, the traditional cushions we'd be sitting on for dinner instead of chair

"You'll marry a nice Korean man and move in somewhere like this, Peaches," Alex said, grinning, as we settled onto the porch after the tour.

"Careful," Japheth said, mock-serious. "You're already engaged. Flirting with my  " He stopped, glancing at me, something uncertain crossing his face.

"Girlfriend," I offered, testing the word out loud for the first time, watching his whole expression brighten.

"Girlfriend," he repeated, clearly pleased with how that landed.

Alex laughed, delighted. "Finally. I was beginning to think I'd have to lock you both in a room together."

We ate a quiet dinner after Alex and his driver headed back to the city, leaving us alone in the hanok for the night, the kind of comfortable quiet that didn't need filling. We sat together on the porch afterward, watching the stars come out properly for the first time all trip, away from the city's light.

"Can I tell you something I probably should have told you years ago?" Japheth said, after a while, his voice quieter than usual.

"Always."

He was silent for a long moment, turning his water glass slowly between his hands.

"You asked me once, a long time ago, why I stopped visiting. Why I let three years pass without coming home even for holidays. I never gave you a real answer."

I sat up a little straighter, giving him my full attention. "I remember. You always deflected."

"Because the real answer made me sound pathetic, and I didn't want you to know how badly I'd handled it." He took a breath. "The one time I did come back, during my first year abroad, I came to see you. I didn't tell anyone  I wanted to surprise you, apologize properly for how things ended, try to fix what I'd broken."

"I don't remember that."

"You weren't supposed to know I was there." His jaw tightened slightly, an old hurt surfacing. "I had the driver park across the street from your house. I had a gift for you, actually  something stupid, I don't even remember what anymore. And then a car pulled up, and you got out with someone. A guy about our age. He walked you to your door, and he kissed you."

My mind raced back, trying to place the memory, and slowly, it clicked into focus. "Kyland."

"I didn't know his name at the time. I just saw you kissing someone else, and I assumed " He shook his head. "I assumed you'd moved on completely. That whatever I'd broken, someone else had already started fixing. I told the driver to turn around. I didn't come back for three years after that, because I couldn't stand the thought of seeing you happy with someone who wasn't me, when I was the one who'd thrown away the chance to be that person myself."

I felt something in my chest crack open, gently, understanding finally settling into a shape that had been missing pieces for years.

"Japheth. Nothing happened with Kyland."

"I know that now."

"No, I mean  that night, specifically. We'd had a girls' night. I was a little tipsy. He drove me home because he lived nearby and offered, and he walked me to the door because it was late and dark, and he kissed my cheek goodnight, completely platonic, and then I never saw him again until you got that ridiculous tattoo and he turned out to be the one who inked it." I found myself almost laughing at the absurdity of it, three years of silence built on a single misread moment. "I didn't even really know him that well. We had maybe four classes together."

He stared at me for a long moment, something between relief and disbelief moving across his face. "Three years, Jasmine. I stayed away three years over a goodnight kiss on the cheek."

"You could have just asked me."

"I know that now too." He laughed, short and a little pained, running a hand through his hair. "God, I feel like an idiot."

"You were an idiot," I agreed, gently. "But I understand it a little better now. It's not that different from what I did, really  assuming the worst, running instead of asking, because asking felt like it might confirm the thing you were most afraid of."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about our mistakes. Yours and mine both."

He reached for my hand, turning it over gently, tracing his thumb along my palm. "I owe you three years I can't get back. I know sorry doesn't undo that."

"No," I agreed. "But it helps to actually understand it. All this time I thought you just stopped caring. Got busy with your new life and decided the old one wasn't worth the effort anymore. Knowing it was never that makes it easier to let go of."

"I never stopped caring. Not for a single day of those three years." His voice was rough, honest in a way that didn't try to dress itself up as anything more impressive than the truth. "I just handled it like a coward instead of a man who actually loved you enough to ask a simple question."

"Well." I leaned my head against his shoulder, watching the stars scatter across a sky clearer than anything I'd ever seen back home. "You're asking questions now. That's something."

"I'm trying."

"I know. I see it." I tilted my head up to look at him. "For what it's worth  if I could go back and tell seventeen-year-old me that the boy on the other side of that ended friendship would spend three years too afraid to ask a simple question instead of just not caring, I think she would've found that a lot less painful to carry."

"I'm sorry I made you carry it at all."

"You couldn't have known. Neither of us could." I squeezed his hand. "We're here now. That's what matters."

We sat together for a long while after that, not saying much else, just letting the quiet settle over both of us three years of misunderstanding finally put to rest, replaced with something steadier, something built on truth instead of assumption.

Before we finally went inside, Japheth pulled out his phone.

"I should probably apologize to Kyland at some point," he said, half to himself. "I've been holding a grudge against a man for driving my girlfriend home safely and being a gentleman about it."

"That would be a good start," I said, laughing. "Maybe don't lead with 'I was jealous of you for three years,' though. Might come across strange."

"Noted."

We went to bed that night with nothing left unsaid between us, for the first time since he'd walked back through his family's front door.