The old bridge was their childhood haven. Mina and Jae had spent summers there, skipping stones and making promises. “We’ll always come back here,” Jae had once said. But life took Jae to the city, leaving Mina behind.
Years later, Jae returned. When he walked into her bakery, Mina froze. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft.
They went to the bridge together, now worn and barely standing. “I missed this,” Jae said. “I missed you.”
“You left,” Mina replied, pain in her voice.
“I thought I needed to leave,” Jae admitted. “But I realized—you’re home.”
Hand in hand, they stood on the fragile bridge, ready to mend it. “Together,” Mina whispered, smiling.
