The Second Love ||PJ&RP

CHAPTER 188: Empty

Morning slowly rise in the distance, bringing a little light into penthouse 1503.

Park Jimin laid asleep on his side. The space between his brows crease into three lines. He opened his eyes, not too slow or too fast.

Looking at his wife, his frown deepens. Sitting up, his eyes scanned the bedroom.

Where could she have gone? It's 5:30am, usually, he's up before her, but why is it the other way? Did she really runaway?

He couldn't help but think of the impossible. Last night, she had a strange expression when they watched the sun set and during dinner. Could she have left because she was pregnant? Did she think he didn't want the baby?

In a panic state, he pulled the comforter off of him, and check the balcony. Empty.

The bathroom.

Empty.

Closet room.

Empty.

Study room.

Empty.

Park Jimin checked every room in the penthouse only to find his wife not anywhere in sight. Looking at the wall clock, he pinch the space between his brows.

Turning to look at Hank, he narrow his eyes and walks toward the Jack Russell .

"Where's my wife?"

Hank had long been awake. He was still in a daze about what his mommy told him last night. Hearing the evil peasant's voice, he looks up at the man.

"Woof."

'Hmmf.'

"..."

Park Jimin stare down at the Jack Russell and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was the fact that he had asked the dog a question and Hank answered him. Shaking his head, he looks to the kitchen counter and unknowingly to him, there was a piece of paper. Walking to the counter, he picks the note up.

'Jimin, I'm flying out of Seoul for the day. Be home later. -Rosiee'

Reading the note, Park Jimin sighs in relief and disappointment. He was relieved that she didn't runaway, but disappointed because he didn't get to kiss or hug her before going to work.

Looking back at the time, he sighs again. His flight leaves in three hour, since his wife isn't here, he mind as well get ready.

Thinking of his wife, his mood quickly turn into determination. He must persuade H International's CEO give him L'amour de ma vie.

—————-

Los Angeles airport. People crowd the airport as some waiting to board their flight, while others just landed.

Stepping out from one of the gates was a tall and slender figure dressed in all black.

She wore a black wool coat over her black turtleneck and black slacks. Covering her feet was a pair of black Manolo Blahnik heels as her Chanel bag draped down from her shoulder.

Even with her sunglasses on, anyone can see that she is a beautiful woman. Her long black hair flowed down her back gracefully.

"That looks like Rosè Han.."

A woman sitting down from the side whispers to her husband. They were waiting to board the plane, but when she saw this tall woman, she couldn't help but feel, she looked like the famous supermodel known in Asia. Especially in America.

The woman's husband looks at the woman his wife pointed out. Sizing the woman up, he pursed his lip.

"She does look like her, but I don't think Rosè Han would fly with a regular airline. Even if she did, wouldn't there be bodyguards with her?"

Hearing this, the wife looks at the woman and nods her head in agreement. Her husband is right, Rosè Han is indeed too famous.

As the couple turn to look away, the tall and slender woman walks forward. She was on a one day mission and needed to get back home.

Since she didn't bring anything except her handbag, she strode out of the airport.

"Miss, do you need a lift?"

Rosè Han looks at the owner of the voice. It was an old man waiting in front of the airport for anyone needing to catch a cab.

She smiles at the old man, "That would be great."

The old man opens the back door to his cab. Once Rosè Han  was seated inside, he jogs to the driver side and gets in.

"Where to Miss?"

Rosè Han stare out the window. Her thoughts were unreadable as she part her lips to answer.

"Los Angeles Cemetery, please."

In the driver seat, the old man frowns when he heard the place. This beautiful and young woman wants to go to the cemetery? Then remembering the way Rosè Han was dressed, he sighs.

This woman must be going to attend a funeral.

Rosè Han did not speak throughout the rest of the ride. As the car drives near Los Angeles cemetery, she sees a flower shop.

"Please stop here for a bit."

The cab stops and Rosè Han gets out of the car. She looks at all the beautiful and different flowers put on display. She turns to look at the old man.

"Please wait here for a bit."

"Go ahead, Miss. I won't go anywhere."

The old man waved his hand and assured Rosè Han. She smiles at him and enters the flower shop as the fresh floral scent enter her nose.

"Hello, what can I do for you today?"

A young girl around the age of twenty greets Rosè Han, but her expression froze in surprise. Never has there been anyone like this woman that comes to the shop.

Rosè Han looks around the flower shop. Turning to look at the girl, she smiles faintly.

"Do you have any astilbe and yarrow flowers?"

"Astilbe and yarrow?"

The girl tilt her head in confusion. Wouldn't someone buy beautiful flowers like tulips or roses? Why would this woman want astilbe and yarrow?

Remembering something, the girl shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have any, only—"

Before the girl could finish her words, an old voice interrupts her.

"We have some."

Rosè Han turned to look at the person. It was an old lady in her sixties with white hair. She held a walking cane for support.

She smiles at the old lady, "Thank you, can you please bundle it for me."

"Right away."

The girl quickly ran to the back of the shop and process Rosè Han's order.

It didn't take long before Rosè Han paid for her flowers and thanked the old lady and girl again. She then leaves the flower shop and gets inside the cab.

The girl stood behind the counter and pout her lip. She couldn't help but wonder about the bundle of flowers Rosè Han just bought. Curious, she looks at the old lady, who has been standing by the door since Rosè Han left.

"Grandma, why did you sell the astilbe and yarrow? I thought those flowers were meant for your friends?"

The old lady stood in silence for a long minute before she finally spoke.

Old lady: "Remember the stories I used to tell you?"

Girl: "The ones when you worked for a nice family? What about it? Don't you bring those flowers to their grave every month?"

Old lady: "That woman just now, she is the daughter of that family."