There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Eighty-Three

Getting back to the apartment building was far easier with a driver.

They took the back roads and when the media circus crept into view, Rose sunk down in her seat until she wasn't visible through the window. One glance at the approaching car at the end of the street – with its single male driver who clearly wasn't Tae-won as he wouldn't be caught dead in a model as old as Si-woo's – convinced them that no one of interest was on the approach, and the reporters returned to their steaming coffees and the cup noodles they clutched in their chilly hands. Some had set up small tents and vendors had taken advantage of their lingering presence by bringing food and bottles of water from their stores and charging them on the street for their services.

Rose hoped that they could leave just as quietly in the morning for the airport, and that the press wouldn't hear about their departure until they were safely back in their home country.

Si-woo stopped at the back of the building and cut the engine and lights, turning on the interior vehicle light instead to illuminate them. With his hands on the wheel, his fingers clasping the hard rubber so tightly that his knuckled turned white, the man stared resolutely into the dark with an expression which was difficult for Rose to discern.

As far as she was concerned, they'd already made peace and said their farewells. Besides, it wasn't as if Si-woo was her favourite person in Korea.

He had been sweet and charming when they'd first met – although the incident in the bar when he'd thrown up hadn't been all that endearing – and she could see how any woman might fall in love with him. If she'd drawn up a list of the differences between Tae-won and Si-woo and compared them to discover which was the ideal partner for her, she knew that she'd have landed on Si-woo every time.

That is, until their argument on the beach.

'You know,' she said, 'when you mentioned your mother...'

Si-woo smiled sadly, 'Ah, you can forget about that. It wasn't important.'

'I hope that she finds the strength to leave your father if she's really so miserable,' Rose said. 'I know that me and Tae-won aren't really the same, and I wouldn't insult your parents by comparing us, but sometimes it is better to walk away so you both have a chance to be happy elsewhere.'

'She knows,' he said. 'But she's stubborn. Like you. Maybe one day she'll figure it all out.'

'And until then you'll keep supporting her?' Rose asked.

'That's what a good son does.'

Rose wouldn't know if that was what a good son did. She had no brothers, her father had rebelled against his family's plans for his future, and the only real male friend she had was Yuta. Yuta's mother – Akane – was a flighty actress and Lily's best friend, and hadn't raised her son to be nearly so responsible as he'd turned out. If she'd had her way, Yuta would have entered the entertainment industry. In the end, he took after his father Isao, and that was probably for the best all round.

Isao was perhaps the most straight-laced person in their social circle, and had it not been for him, they'd all have devolved into insanity and chaos long ago.

Rose cleared her throat softly. She hadn't expected to feel emotional at the idea of leaving Si-woo. Theirs hadn't been the easiest relationship since she'd begun to date Tae-won, and yet she felt that she'd miss the friendship that could have been if only she'd resisted the urge to get involved with the celebrity from the outset. There was never any question of a romance between them – no danger that Si-woo might sweep her off her feet – but she could have come to think of him as an older brother much in the way she now thought of Yuta.