They decided to marry at Haeteul. Not in a grand pavilion, but on the bluff, with the bench as their altar and the endless sea as their witness. The guest list was a mere handful: Hae-won, of course, standing tall and proud as Ha-ru's best woman. Jin-woo's only living relative, a frail, kind-eyed aunt from a distant province who had secretly sent him money for textbooks years ago. Ms. Choi, Sang-cheol, and Ji-hyun—the small team who had become their allies and friends. And the elderly haenyeo museum director, who insisted on blessing the union with a traditional chant to the sea goddess.
There were no photographers, no press releases. Security, discreet and thorough, kept the cliffs clear. This day was for them.
