Chapter Text
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Sadly. Two weeks had passed since Taesan and Bora’s hurried morning encounter with the new neighbor, and the man remained as much of a mystery as ever.
Taesan hadn’t seen him again—not correctly, at least. There were moments when he thought he heard faint music or soft footsteps from the apartment next door, but by the time he stepped into the hallway, the sound was gone. He’d even tried knocking once, under the guise of introducing himself, but no one answered.
“Maybe he’s just busy,” Taesan muttered one evening as he leaned against his kitchen counter, his gaze flickering toward the shared wall. Or maybe, he thought worryingly, the neighbor was actively avoiding him. It wasn’t like Taesan was the most approachable person in the world, but he wasn’t rude either.
Still, he had more pressing matters to focus on. Bora’s birthday was next week, and Taesan was determined to make it memorable.
Bora’s face lit up at the breakfast table as she chatted about her upcoming plans with her friends at school. She was growing up so quickly, her energy contagious even in the early morning.
“So,” Taesan began cautiously as he poured milk over her cereal. “What’s the one thing you’d like for your birthday? Just one thing. No guarantees, but I’m curious.”
Bora tilted her head, her spoon pausing midair as she thought. “Hmm… I don’t know.”
Taesan raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Bora. You’ve got to give me something. Anything?”
She smiled shyly, her cheeks dimpling in that way that always made him think of Eunha. “A pet, maybe?”
“A pet?” He leaned back, pretending to consider it. “You mean, like… a fish?”
Bora wrinkled her nose. “No, Appa. Like a real pet. A dog or a cat. Something I can play with.”
He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in the quiet apartment. “That’s a big responsibility, Bora. Are you ready for that?”
“I’m ready! I promise!” she insisted, her eyes wide with determination.
Taesan didn’t answer right away, but he filed her words away in his mind.
That Friday, after dropping Bora off at school and reviewing the spelling words she’d been practicing all week, Taesan found himself driving to the veterinary clinic on the edge of town during his lunch break.
The parking lot was small but tidy, and the building itself was modest. It had a bright sign that read Helping Paws Veterinary Clinic.
“Alright, let’s see what we can do,” Taesan muttered as he stepped inside.
Before stepping inside, he heard the quiet hum through the front door, a conversation drifted from the reception desk, drawing his attention quickly to the sound of a soft laugh coming from in the clinic.
A man stood at the counter near the adoption area, chatting with the receptionist. His posture was relaxed but alert, and something about the sharp slope of his shoulders and the way his hair brushed against the nape of his neck caught Taesan’s attention.
He had seen that hair before. The sleek, dark strands that framed his face, the way they curved slightly at the ends—it tugged at a part of Taesan’s memory he couldn’t quite place. But it wasn’t just his hair. It was the sharpness of his ears and the way they added a quiet elegance to his silhouette.
The man’s face turned slightly, allowing his face to come into view, and Taesan felt his breath catch.
He was beautiful.
The man’s features were striking—soft cheekbones, a delicate jawline, and eyes that were large and almond-shaped, giving him an almost feline appearance. There was something gentle but piercing in the way he carried himself, as if he held his own quiet world of mysteries.
He finally decided to open the door after he saw him reach the back of the store, the door chimed as the man at the counter quickly turned his head in his direction.
Taesan quickly read the name tag ‘Leehan’ with a questionable amount of fish stickers on it before looking back into his eyes.
“Hi there!” Leehan, the receptionist, called out, pulling Taesan out of his trance. “Can I help you with something?”
“Um, yeah,” Taesan said, clearing his throat. “I’m here to look at the kittens for adoption.”
“Perfect timing,” Leehan said cheerfully. “Sungho just left to take a look at them too.”
“Sungho?” Taesan repeated under his breath, his brow furrowing. The name didn’t ring a bell, but there was a tug of familiarity that wouldn’t let go.
“So what is the mission today?” Leehan asked as he followed him into the back room, where the kittens were housed.
Taesan smiled as he trailed behind him “A gift— for my daughter’s birthday.”
“That’s sweet,” Leehan said, his lips curving into a faint smile.
The tiny animals tumbled and played in their enclosure, their small meows filling the air. As, the man he now knows as Sungho, silently observed them.
Taesan bent down, observing them carefully. One kitten—a black one with beautiful green eyes—caught his eye. She batted at her siblings with clumsy swipes before rolling onto her back.
“She’s cute,” Taesan murmured, reaching out to let her sniff his fingers.
“She’s the one I noticed earlier,” Sungho said, crouching beside him. Their arms nearly brushed, and Taesan stiffened at the closeness.
For a moment, the two of them simply watched the kitten play, the shared silence surprisingly comfortable.
“She seems like a good fit for a family,” Sungho commented, glancing at Taesan. “I overheard— b-but your daughter will love her.”
Taesan turned to respond but found himself momentarily lost in Sungho’s gaze. His eyes were an unusual shade, somewhere between dark amber and brown, warm and inviting yet guarded.
“Yeah,” Taesan said, clearing his throat again. “She will.”
As Sungho shifted his attention back to the kittens, Taesan couldn’t shake the lingering question in his mind. Where had he seen him before? Was it just his striking appearance that made him seem familiar, or was there more to it?
And then, as Sungho leaned down to pet another kitten, his hair shifted, exposing the sharp point of his ear again.
The hallway. That morning. The new neighbor.
Taesan blinked, realization dawning on him like a light turning on. This was the man who had been moving in two weeks ago.
“Something wrong?” Sungho asked, noticing Taesan’s sudden stillness.
“No, nothing,” Taesan replied quickly. “Just… thought I recognized you.”
Sungho tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his expression, but he didn’t press further.
Leehan returned then, breaking the moment. “Have you two decided on a kitten yet?”
Sungho stood and brushed his hands on his pants. “I think I’ll keep looking, but I’ll leave this one for you. Sounds like she’s going to a great home.”
“Thanks,” Taesan said, a hint of gratitude in his voice.
As Sungho left the room, giving the kittens one last fond glance, Taesan found his gaze lingering on the man’s retreating figure. He couldn’t quite explain the pull he felt—half curiosity, half something deeper he wasn’t ready to name.
He shook his head, focusing back on the playful tabby kitten before him. Bora’s birthday was the priority.
Taesan stood at the counter, the soft purrs of the kitten still lingering in his ears. Leehan with his slightly fish-like gaze and perpetually kind smile, leaned on the desk, typing on a keyboard.
“So, you’d like to keep this a surprise for a week?” Leehan asked, glancing up at him.
“Yeah,” Taesan said, shifting on his feet. “It’s for my daughter’s birthday, but I don’t want her to find out until the day of. She’s… really sharp. She notices everything.”
Leehan chuckled, his lips curving upward. “Sounds like a smart kid. So, what’s your plan? Where will the little one stay until then?”
That was the part Taesan hadn’t figured out yet. “I—uh—I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Leehan tapped his chin thoughtfully, his bright eyes suddenly flicking toward the back of the store. “What about him?”
Taesan blinked, following Leehan’s gaze. Sungho was wandering near the pet supplies section, his long hair catching the light as he browsed the shelves. He had a curious look on his face, his fingers brushing over a cat toy absently.
“Excuse me?” Taesan said, his tone startled.
Leehan grinned mischievously. “You’ve been looking at him since you got here. Maybe he can help you out. He seems nice.”
“What? No!” Taesan exclaimed, a blush creeping up his neck. “I—I don’t even know him. Not really, anyway.”
Leehan arched a brow, his grin widening. “Not really? So you know him a little?”
“Not the point,” Taesan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
Leehan laughed before leaning back. “Alright, alright. I was joking. If you’re not comfortable asking him, I could keep the kitten at my place.”
Taesan stared at him, taken aback. “You’d do that? Why?”
Leehan shrugged, his expression softening. “You seem like a good guy. And a good dad. Plus, I already have a whole aquarium at home. One kitten would probably love staring at the fish all day. Enrichment and all that.”
“That’s… really generous of you,” Taesan said, still trying to process the offer.
“I just like helping people,” Leehan replied with a nonchalant wave. “And who knows? Maybe this can be the start of a friendship. You look like you could use one.”
Taesan blinked at the candid comment but found himself smiling. “Thanks. That’s… kind of you.”
Leehan smiled back. “So, what do you say? Should I babysit your little surprise?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Taesan nodded. “Yeah. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Leehan handed him his phone. “Give me your number, so we can coordinate when to pick her up on the big day.”
They exchanged numbers, and as Taesan finished setting up the payment and plan, he glanced toward the door. Sungho was leaving, the back of his head just as familiar and enigmatic as it had been two weeks ago.
Leehan caught the look and smirked. “You sure you don’t want to get his number too?”
“Leehan,” Taesan said warningly, his blush returning.
“Alright, alright,” Leehan said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Driving back to the studio, Taesan found himself in an unexpectedly light mood. Things were starting to look up. He had a plan for Bora’s birthday, he’d made a new friend in Leehan, and he’d finally seen his elusive neighbor again—though he still hadn’t told him they lived next door.
“Idiot,” he muttered to himself, gripping the wheel. “Why didn’t you just say something?”
Despite the small frustration, he couldn’t help but feel encouraged.
At the studio, that newfound energy flowed into his work. For the first time in months, melodies came to him naturally. The thought of Bora’s upcoming birthday, the tiny kitten, and even Sungho’s quiet elegance inspired him. By the end of the day, his desk was scattered with sheet music, filled with new ideas and rough drafts of songs that felt genuine and alive.
When he picked Bora up from school, her face lit up as she hopped into the car.
“Appa!” she chirped. “Guess what? I got full marks on my math quiz!”
“That’s my girl,” Taesan said, smiling as he started the car.
“And we’re doing a group project in science next week,” Bora continued, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “I’m working with Hyejin and Minwoo, and I think we’re going to make a volcano that erupts! Isn’t that cool?”
Taesan glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his heart swelling with pride. “That’s very cool. You’re going to be the best volcano expert out there.”
Bora giggled, and her laughter filled the car, a sound Taesan never grew tired of.
As they drove home, he listened to her chatter with a quiet smile, feeling more hopeful than he had in a long time. For Bora, for himself, and for the little sparks of change that seemed to be lighting his path.
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Earlier that Day
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Sungho sat cross-legged on his couch, staring at the blank screen of his television. His apartment was finally starting to feel like home after weeks of unpacking, but the silence pressed down on him like an unwelcome weight. The muffled sounds of life outside his door—a neighbor’s laugh, the footsteps of a child running down the hallway—only reminded him how isolated he felt.
For the past two weeks, there had been knocks on his door. Light and polite. Always accompanied by the faint sound of a man’s voice, sometimes even the cheerful chatter of a child. And each time, Sungho had frozen in place, his heart racing.
Not because he didn’t want to meet his neighbors—he did, in a way. But because every knock sent a ripple of fear through him, an irrational but unshakable worry that opening the door might somehow invite chaos into his life.
It was absurd, he knew that. But after everything that had happened with Eui, Sungho’s instinct was to stay hidden. Eui had started small—dictating how he dressed, texting his friends under Sungho’s name—but it had spiraled so quickly into something darker. And now, even though Sungho was free, his mind still replayed the moments where trust had been his undoing.
There was a knock one evening, louder than the others, and for a second, Sungho thought he’d been caught playing his music too loudly. He scrambled to turn it off, his hands trembling, as if the man outside might burst in at any moment.
It was ridiculous. This neighbor didn’t even know him. Didn’t have Eui’s face. Didn’t have Eui’s voice. And yet Sungho crouched low behind the couch like a child hiding from a monster under the bed.
By the time the knock faded, Sungho sat back against the cushions, his chest heaving.
“You’re twenty-three,” he muttered to himself. “You have a job. You’re fine. Get it together.”
But he wasn’t fine. His job as an assistant professor in an architecture program filled his weekdays with structure, but outside of the classroom, his world was quiet. Too quiet.
His friends Jaehyun and Riwoo didn’t live nearby. Though they called him often, their voices on the phone weren’t the same as their warmth in person. And while his students occasionally asked him questions or stayed after class to chat, Sungho knew it was because of his role, not because they wanted to know him.
The loneliness was starting to creep in, slowly but surely.
Which was why he’d decided, after weeks of hesitation, to adopt a cat.
The thought had struck him late one night as he scrolled aimlessly through his phone, feeling the weight of the empty apartment around him. A pet. A companion. Something to fill the silence with more than just his own thoughts.
By the time the sun rose, he’d already researched nearby shelters and decided on a visit.
As he walked into Helping Paws Veterinary Clinic, the faint smell of animal fur and antiseptic greeted him. A cheerful receptionist, Leehan, waved him in with a bright smile.
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As Sungho walked in front of the kitten enclosure, the tiny black kitten with her curious green eyes staring up at him. He couldn’t help but smile. Her cautious but curious nature felt oddly familiar, like she understood him somehow.
As he reached out, the kitten sniffed his hand before giving it a gentle nudge with her head. “You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” he murmured.
Just as he stood up, the bell above the clinic door jingled. Sungho turned his head slightly, glancing toward the entrance. A tall man walked in, his coat shifting with the breeze that followed him. His dark hair fell in soft waves, framing a face that was strikingly handsome yet calm and grounded. Behind him, the receptionist, Leehan, greeted him with an enthusiastic wave.
Sungho’s breath caught as recognition flared in his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure, but something about the man seemed familiar. The sharpness of his jawline, the steadiness in his posture—he couldn’t place it— oh wait.
The same man who had rushed past him two weeks ago.
Sungho felt a strange mix of relief and unease. He hadn’t been imagining things. This man really was his neighbor.
The man exchanged a few words with Leehan, his voice low and pleasant. Sungho quickly turned his attention back to the kittens, not wanting to be caught staring. But it was hard not to notice when the man walked closer, heading toward the same enclosure Sungho was crouched by.
“She’s cute,” the man said, his voice resonating softly behind him.
Sungho straightened, trying to act natural. He turned slightly, meeting the man’s gaze for a brief moment. His face was even more striking up close, with kind eyes and a quiet strength that made Sungho’s chest tighten unexpectedly.
“She’s the one I noticed earlier,” Sungho replied politely crouching besides him, his voice steady but soft.
The man was examining the kittens with a focus that spoke volumes. He wasn’t just looking—he was considering. It was a tenderness that Sungho found surprising, and he couldn’t help but linger, watching the way the man’s large hands carefully extended toward the kitten Sungho had been interacting with.
After a while, Sungho found himself wandering around the store, trying to decide what supplies he’d need if he brought a kitten home. He could feel the man’s presence nearby, even when he wasn’t in sight. It was strange—he’d spent so much time avoiding his neighbor, yet here they were, sharing the same space, and Sungho didn’t feel the same urge to hide.
Still, his old instincts flared as he glanced toward the counter where the man now stood, talking to Leehan. The receptionist’s cheerful voice carried over the aisles, occasionally interrupted by the man’s quieter replies.
Sungho found himself lingering near the shelves, pretending to browse, even though he’d already made his decisions. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the man glance toward him a few times, his gaze curious but not intrusive.
Leehan’s voice broke the silence. “You sure you don’t want to ask him? You keep looking his way.”
Sungho’s heart skipped. Was he talking about him? He quickly turned his back, feeling the warmth rise to his cheeks.
He didn’t stay to find out. Instead, he headed towards the door, slipping out quietly. The bell jingled softly as he left, and the cool air outside was a welcome reprieve from the strange tension he’d felt inside.
As he walked home, his mind raced with conflicting thoughts. The man—his neighbor—was intriguing, yes. But Sungho couldn’t shake the fear that opening up to someone new could leave him vulnerable again.
After finally reaching his destination Sungho flopped onto his couch, letting out a dramatic groan. His phone buzzed in his hand, and within seconds, Jaehyun and Riwoo’s faces appeared on his screen. The three-way Facetime call had become a regular part of his routine since moving, his only lifeline to friends who knew him better than he knew himself.
“You look like a wet sock,” Riwoo said, his sharp jawline exaggerated by the lighting in his room. “What happened now? Did the cashier at the coffee shop forget your name again?”
“Shut up,” Sungho mumbled, tossing a cushion over his lap. “Something… weird happened today.”
“Define weird,” Jaehyun said, adjusting his glasses. He was sitting in what appeared to be a library or a home office, a steaming mug of tea in his hand.
“I ran into my neighbor,” Sungho admitted.
Both of their eyes widened, and Riwoo nearly dropped his phone. “Wait, the neighbor?”
“The one you’ve been hiding from for weeks?” Jaehyun added, leaning closer to the camera like he was watching a thriller unfold.
“Yeah, that one,” Sungho said, rolling his eyes.
“You have got to stop being this dramatic,” Riwoo said, his voice dripping with mock exasperation. “It’s like you’re in a horror movie and he’s the killer. For all you know, he’s just some guy who wanted to borrow sugar.”
“First of all,” Sungho said, holding up a finger, “I had a very valid reason to be cautious.”
“Trauma aside, you’re still just awkward,” Riwoo quipped, earning a laugh from Jaehyun.
Sungho huffed. “He’s… not what I expected, okay? I thought he’d be nosy or overbearing, but he’s—” He paused, trying to find the right word.
“Hot?” Riwoo offered, wiggling his eyebrows.
Sungho’s face burned. “That’s not what I said!”
Jaehyun leaned closer to the camera, squinting. “But you’re not denying it.”
“I—okay, fine. Yes, he’s… good-looking,” Sungho admitted, covering his face with his hand. “But that’s not the point.”
“The point is,” Riwoo said, smirking, “you finally saw him in person, and now you can’t stop thinking about him.”
Sungho threw his head back against the couch dramatically. “It’s not like that. He’s just… intriguing. He has this calm energy, but there’s this sadness in his eyes. And a daughter—”
Riwoo’s smirk faded slightly, replaced with a softer expression. “He has a kid?”
“Yeah. She was with him when I first saw them rushing out of the apartment a few weeks ago,” Sungho explained. “Today, he was at the vet looking at kittens.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “So, he’s a single dad who likes animals. Sounds like a green flag to me.”
“Not everything has to be a green flag, Jaehyun,” Sungho muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips.
“Okay, but what happened at the vet?” Riwoo pressed, his voice full of curiosity.
Sungho sighed. “We didn’t talk much. He said the kitten I was looking at was cute. And then we kind of… lingered near each other for a while. But I left before anything else could happen.”
“You left?” Riwoo exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Are you allergic to connection or something?”
“I panicked!” Sungho defended, his ears turning red. “What was I supposed to do? Introduce myself and say, ‘Hey, by the way, I’ve been avoiding you for weeks because I’m a socially awkward mess’?!”
Jaehyun chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but you could’ve at least said your name. It’s a start.”
“Okay, fine, maybe I blew it,” Sungho admitted, burying his face in the cushion. “But what if he thinks I’m weird now? I don’t want to ruin things with my neighbor before they even start.”
“Look, Sungho,” Riwoo said, leaning closer to his camera. “You’ve been through a lot, and no one’s rushing you. But this could be good for you. Even if he’s just a friend, it sounds like he’s someone worth knowing.”
Sungho peeked over the cushion, his lips pressing into a small pout. “You think so?”
Jaehyun nodded. “Definitely. And if he likes animals and has a kid, he’s probably patient enough to handle your awkwardness.”
“Thanks, Jaehyun,” Sungho said dryly, though he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Anytime,” Jaehyun replied, raising his mug in a mock toast.
Riwoo grinned. “Okay, here’s the plan. Next time you see him, don’t run away. Just say hi. And maybe ask about the kitten—something casual.”
“Casual,” Sungho echoed, nodding slowly. “I can do casual.”
“Good,” Riwoo said with a firm nod. “And if he ends up being a jerk, you can always text us, and we’ll come over to scare him off.”
Sungho laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Thanks, guys. I’ll try to be… less awkward next time.”
“Baby steps,” Jaehyun said with a smile.
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“Baby steps,” Taesan muttered to himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His dark eyes, usually shadowed with exhaustion, held a flicker of determination today. He adjusted the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time and sighed.
The weekend stretched before him with its usual quiet stillness, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like disrupting that silence. Maybe it was the unexpected boost he’d felt after picking out the kitten for Bora’s birthday. Or perhaps it was the neighbor he’d finally seen at the vet—the one with the sharp but soft features and the lingering curiosity in his gaze. Sungho.
He had thought about him more than he cared to admit since that day. Something about the man’s quiet demeanor had struck a chord in him. He seemed kind, thoughtful even, and while he barely knew him, the idea of reaching out felt… possible.
“Alright,” he said to his reflection, smoothing his hair down. “You’ve handled harder things. This is just a neighbor. Baby steps.”
A knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Appa! Are you almost done? I need to braid my hair!”
Taesan opened the door to see Bora standing there, her hands on her hips, already dressed for the day. Her sharp eyes darted to his neatly pressed shirt and slightly flustered expression. “Why are you all dressed up?” she asked, her tone suspicious.
“I’m not dressed up,” Taesan replied defensively, though he felt the tips of his ears turn red.
Bora squinted at him, unconvinced. “You’re wearing the good shirt. You only wear that shirt when you’re nervous.”
Taesan sighed, stepping aside to let her into the bathroom. “I’m just… going to talk to the neighbor.”
Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “The one that moved in next door?”
“Yes, him,” Taesan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You like him!” Bora declared, her voice full of playful accusation as she grabbed her brush.
“I don’t—” Taesan began but stopped himself, realizing there was no use denying it. He exhaled. “He seemed nice. That’s all. I just thought it might be good to… get to know him.”
Bora grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You should invite him to my birthday party!”
“What?” Taesan looked at her, horrified. “Bora, no. I barely know him.”
“That’s why you should invite him!” she said, brushing her hair. “You’ll get to know him better. And if he’s coming to my party, you have an excuse to talk to him more.”
Taesan shook his head firmly. “Your birthday is about you, not me making awkward small talk with a neighbor.”
Bora turned to him, her expression serious now. “Appa, you’ve done so much for me since Mom…” She trailed off for a moment, her eyes flickering with sadness. “But you should do something for yourself too. Mom would’ve wanted that.”
Taesan felt his chest tighten, the weight of her words settling over him. She was wise beyond her years, her maturity both a blessing and a painful reminder of everything she’d been through.
“I’ll think about it,” he said softly, ruffling her hair.
“You better,” she teased, swatting his hand away.
Ten minutes later, Taesan stood outside Sungho’s door, his fist hovering in the air. He had convinced himself to keep it simple—a neighborly gesture, nothing more. Maybe ask if Sungho wanted to grab something to eat. That wasn’t too much, was it?
He took a deep breath and knocked.
“Hello,” Taesan muttered.
There was a moment of silence before he heard soft footsteps approaching. The door opened slightly, revealing Sungho’s face. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and he wore a loose hoodie that made him look younger than he probably was.
“Oh,” Sungho said, his voice quiet but surprised. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Taesan replied, suddenly forgetting the entire speech he had prepared. He cleared his throat. “I—uh—thought I’d introduce myself properly. I’m Taesan. I live next door.”
Sungho blinked, then gave a small, polite smile. “I’m Sungho. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I noticed that you looked familiar at the vet earlier” Taesan stated, shyly looking up before his eyes found his own fidgeting hands.
A small giggle came out of Sungho’s mouth before he spoke. “I actually noticed as well,” finding himself staring at how cute Taesan was for being so shy.
There was an awkward pause, and Taesan almost turned and bolted, but two words echoed in his mind. Baby steps.
“I was wondering if you’d like to grab lunch or something,” he said, the words tumbling out faster than he intended. “I figured, since we’re neighbors, it might be nice to… talk.”
Sungho’s eyes widened slightly, his surprise evident. He seemed to almost look scared, for a moment, Taesan thought he’d say no, but then Sungho nodded. “Sure. That sounds nice.”
Relief washed over Taesan, and he offered a small, genuine smile. “Great. There’s a place nearby I think you’ll like. I’ll, uh, wait for you to get ready?”
Sungho nodded again, his own smile growing slightly as he stepped back inside. “Give me five minutes.”
As the door closed, Taesan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Baby steps, he thought again, his heart thudding in his chest. Maybe Bora was right. Maybe this was the start of something good.