Chapter 8

• A few hours before Ivy called Josh…
• “So, it’s official? You’re divorced now?” Luna asked while stretching out her stiff arms. They both worked at the same café, but on different ends of the operation—Ivy was on the floor, Luna in the kitchen.
• Luckily, their shifts overlapped today, which meant they could grab lunch together.
• “Pretty much,” Ivy replied, mid-bite into her sandwich. The toasted bread filled with tender beef tasted even better than she expected, sliding down her throat with a warmth she hadn’t felt in days. “Thanks for lunch, Luna.” She grinned. “You saved me from starving to death.”
• “Idiot,” Luna scoffed, smacking Ivy’s shoulder with enough force to make her wince. She didn’t care if Ivy complained—she still cared deeply for her friend. She shoved a bottle of water toward her. “You need to take better care of yourself, Ivy. No matter how strong you pretend to be, your body knows when you’re faking it.”
• Ivy took the bottle with a small smile. “I’m fine.”
• “Liar,” Luna said flatly. “No one comes out of a divorce untouched. Especially not after years with a guy like Rico.”
• Ivy didn’t answer right away. She twisted the cap off and took a slow sip of water. “Sometimes I still think about it. Not because I want to go back… but because I feel stupid. For trusting him so blindly.”
• Luna rolled her eyes. “You loved him, Ivy. That’s not a crime. But don’t forget—love that isn’t nurtured by both people only becomes a burden for one.”
• Ivy let out a tired laugh. “Thanks for the reminder.”
• “If you still need to cry, then cry,” Luna said, leaning in a little closer. “But once you’re done, let him go. Move on.”
• “Where are you living now?” she asked, lowering her voice as if to brace herself. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping at a public bathhouse?”
• Ivy snorted with amusement. “Excuse me, rude. No.” She lifted her chin slightly, putting on a confident front—more for Luna’s sake than her own. “Relax. I’ve got my own place now.”
• “Alone?”
• “Yeah. It’s small, but it’s clean and safe. That’s all I need for now. I’ve got to start saving—there’s still some student debt left. You remember, right? Rico and I took out that loan for his tuition back then.”
• Luna went quietly. Her face twisted into an expression somewhere between anger and pity.
• “That asshole,” she muttered eventually. “He wrecks your life, and you still have to carry the debt he left behind?”
• Ivy shrugged, half-laughing at her own misfortune. “I agreed to it. So it’s my responsibility too.”
• Luna let out a frustrated sigh but didn’t say anything more. She knew Ivy—once she made up her mind, there was no shaking it.
• “Sometimes I want to yell at you for falling for the wrong guy,” Luna said after a pause. “But then again, I’ve never actually been in love. My life’s boring—monotonous, even.” She laughed at herself. “So who am I to judge, right?”
• “You know,” Ivy said as she finished the last bite of her sandwich, “your anger feels like love to me. Thanks for being my friend, Luna.”
• “Always,” Luna said, giving Ivy’s shoulder a firm pat. “Come on, we should get moving. Mr. Kim will have our heads if we take too long.”
• “You’re right.”
• The two of them headed back to the restaurant, which rarely ever saw a quiet moment. Mr. Kim’s bean sprout soup was famous for its rich, savory broth—a local favorite that drew regular crowds. But to Ivy, Mr. Kim was more than just her boss. Having lived most of her life without parents, she had come to see him as a father figure.
• “Take this home, Ivy. You need to eat more meat,” Mr. Kim said, his face flushed as he caught his breath after stirring a massive pot of broth. In his hand was a pack of thinly sliced beef, ready to be cooked any way she liked.
• “But, Mr. Kim…” Ivy started to protest, but the look in his eyes made her swallow her words and take the bag with both hands.
• “I don’t want to hear that one of my employees passed out from poor nutrition!”
• Luna and Haeon, another friend from the restaurant, burst out laughing.
• “Thank you, Mr. Kim,” Ivy said with a respectful bow. “I’ll get going now.”
• “Yeah, yeah. Get home safe.”
• And it was because of that meat that Ivy figured—why not cook dinner for Josh too? After all, the weekend was just around the corner. She also wanted to ask him what came next in his plan to reclaim the house that Rico was still living in.
• ***
• The dining table in Ivy’s apartment looked like it belonged in a high-end hanjeongsik restaurant—bathed in warm pendant light and filled with the mouthwatering aroma of simmering broth. Ivy had chosen a simple menu, but every detail was thoughtful.
• Thin slices of bulgogi beef, marinated in soy sauce, toasted sesame, garlic, and freshly grated Korean pear, then seared lightly to stay juicy. Japchae is made with glass noodles cooked just right, tossed with vibrant slivers of carrot, spinach, and shiitake mushrooms. Fresh kimchi in a small porcelain bowl, neatly placed beside perilla leaves. A bubbling pot of doenjang jjigae, Korean miso soup, served in a rustic clay pot still steaming on its wooden trivet. Even the warm white rice was shaped into a neat mound in a patterned ceramic bowl.
• She added chilled slices of Korean pear for dessert, and a glass teapot filled with cold barley tea, beads of condensation forming on its sides.
• When Josh stepped through the door, the scent of the meal greeted him instantly. He paused, caught off guard—there was something about it that felt… comforting. Familiar. Warm.
• Without wasting another moment, he slipped off his jacket and set his briefcase down on the couch.
• “Wow… did you plan a whole feast or something?” he asked, licking his lips as a sudden wave of hunger hit him.
• Ivy stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. “I hope you like it.”
• Josh approached the table, his eyes lighting up in surprise. “I haven’t even sat down yet and I’m already starving. Did you really make all this yourself?”
• Ivy nodded. “If you don’t like it—”
• “Come on,” he cut her off, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “What part of me looks like I wouldn’t love this?”
• A small smile curved Ivy’s lip. “Enjoy.”
• The quiet clinking of spoons and chopsticks filled the room, occasionally punctuated by Josh’s low murmurs of approval as he devoured the bulgogi with zero hesitation.
• “If I’d known you could cook like this,” he muttered, pouring himself some barley tea, “I would’ve come home early every night. Seriously.”
• When he noticed Ivy giving him a skeptical look, Josh leaned back with a lazy grin.
• “I’m serious. This dinner just erased every trace of my crappy day.”
• Ivy smiled faintly, brushing off the compliment. “Don’t exaggerate. Just think of this dinner as my way of saying thank you.”
• “For what exactly?”
• “Letting me stay here temporarily,” she said lightly.
• “You don’t need to thank me for that.” Josh leaned back slightly, setting down his chopsticks. “Thanks for the meal, Ivy.”
• “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied, glancing at the nearly empty dishes on the table.
• “It’d be even better if you started making dinner for me every night.”
• “Can you promise not to come home too late? Eating that late isn’t good for your body.”
• “Sure,” Josh said with a casual nod. “I’ll make sure of it.” He relaxed more into his seat, his tone dropping a little softer. “So… you don’t mind? Cooking dinner for me? Like you said that first day you came here?”
• Ivy shook her head with a smile. “Alright then. I’ll go shopping for groceries tomorrow.”
• Then she set her chopsticks down and looked at him more seriously. “Speaking of that house… Any updates? Is there any chance of getting it back soon?”
• Josh let out a quiet sigh, leaning back and rubbing his temple for a second. “I’ve already spoken to my attorney—the one who usually handles cases like this,” he said at last. “Unfortunately, right now, the house is entirely under Rico’s name. Legally, there’s no opening to reclaim it. Not unless there’s paperwork proving your financial contribution.”
• Ivy’s expression tensed for a moment. Her gaze dropped to her lap. The disappointment was subtle, but Josh saw it clearly. She didn’t say anything. And the silence that followed… it got under his skin.
• Josh reached for his glass of tea and leaned toward her slightly. “Are you disappointed?”
• “A little,” Ivy admitted with a bitter laugh.
• “But… there’s another way. A sneakier, more painful way. One that doesn’t just get the house back—”
• He paused, his voice low and deliberate. “—but makes him regret ever treating you like that.”
• Ivy looked up. “What kind of way?”
• Josh gently patted his thigh. “Come closer.”
• Her brow lifted high. “Excuse me?”
• Josh flashed a wicked grin. “Come here.” He shifted in his seat just enough to make it clear what he meant. “You know what I want, don’t you?”
• Ivy held her breath, hesitating for a moment before rising from her chair. Slowly, she stepped closer. Tentatively, she perched on the edge of his seat—but Josh didn’t let her stop there. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her onto his lap.
• She let out a soft, frustrated groan, instinctively looping her arms around his neck to steady herself. “What do you want?”
• “You haven’t forgotten our agreement, have you?” Josh whispered, teasing her, his breath brushing her ear—already turning the tips of them a deep shade of pink. Whether it was embarrassing or heat, she couldn’t tell.
• “No.” Ivy leaned back slightly to put some space between them. “But... can you at least tell me what your plan is?”
• “You don’t trust me to pull it off?” he asked, one brow lifted in mock offense.
• She didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head back just slightly as Josh pressed a few kisses to the slender line of her neck. She winced once when he bit down—just enough to sting. “Don’t leave a mark, Josh.”
• He chuckled against her skin. “Come with me to this weekend’s dinner party. As my date.”
• Ivy brows furrowed. “What does that have to do with that bastard?”
• “You’ll find out when you get there.” Another kiss. Warmer this time. “So? Will you go with me?”
• “Is Rico going to be there too?”
• “Of course.” Josh’s voice grew lower, rougher with impatience. One of his hands slipped under her shirt, fingers brushing lightly against her skin.
• Ivy still couldn’t quite connect the dots, but she had a feeling Josh had his own ways of making things happen. Maybe it was time she stopped trying to figure everything out and just trusted him—for once.
• “Can you at least wait a second?” she sighed. “I haven’t showered, and I just finished cooking. Let me change, at least.”
• “No.” His voice turned husky. “You smell delicious, Ivy.”
• “You think I smell like—”
• Her protest was cut short with a startled gasp as Josh scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest like she weighed nothing. She clung to him, arms and legs wrapped tight like a koala hanging on for dear life. “Put me down, Josh!”
• “Not until we’re on my bed,” he said with a wicked laugh. “Or yours. Take your pick. But hurry—I’m dying to devour you, Ivy.”