Touch Therapy: Where Hands Go, Bodies Beg-Chapter 248 - 249: Ex-boyfriend

Yura leaned back against the leather seat, letting the luxury of the clinic’s waiting room surround her—soft jazz in the background, filtered morning light through gauzy curtains, not a trace of hospital sterility. The private obstetrician was one of the best in Barcelona, tucked away in a neighborhood where doormen nodded politely and paparazzi never lingered. She felt safe here, away from the chaos of the world and the previous night’s messy, delirious revelry.

The doctor’s voice was warm and gentle, and Yura was struck again by how different this felt from her other checkups back home. Here, there was time. No rushing, no nurses prodding or muttering about schedules. The doctor laughed with her about baby names, chatted about the coming summer heat, and finally, after a gentle scan and a series of rhythmic, soothing beeps, turned the monitor so Yura could see.

"You see this?" The doctor smiled, pointing at a flicker on the grainy black and white. "Healthy heartbeat. Everything looks wonderful. Congratulations—you’re having a girl." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Yura covered her mouth, eyes prickling with emotion. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. A daughter. All at once, the anxiety and uncertainty of the last weeks dissolved, replaced by a warm glow. She managed to thank the doctor—once, then again, barely trusting her own voice.

Outside, the sun was brighter than before. The exclusive district was so different from the rest of Barcelona: wide, clean sidewalks lined with designer boutiques, only a handful of well-dressed people strolling past. No tourists, no noisy crowds, just the quiet click of Yura’s shoes and her heartbeat still echoing with the doctor’s news. She fished out her phone and, hands shaking, typed in the group chat:

Good news—she’s perfect. And she’s a girl!

Within seconds, the chat exploded.

Alina: OMG!!! GIRL GANG!!!! 💖💖💖

Ji-hye: Unnie!!! That’s amazing!! Name her after me 😆

Min-kyung: You’re glowing already, I can tell!

Joon-ho: I’m so proud of you, love.

She wiped her eyes, smiling, then made her way back to the hotel, every step lighter than the last.

Up in the suite, Min-kyung was already dressed for dinner, perched at the vanity and attacking her hair with a curling iron, tension in her shoulders. She’d been oddly jumpy all afternoon, lips pursed, glancing at her phone every few minutes. The suite was quieter than yesterday’s disaster zone: Alina was gone, off with a pack of model friends to some party in the city, promising via text not to drag home strangers or crash police barricades. Ji-hye was missing too, having texted a pouty selfie from the Olympic village. Her mother—Coach Min—had grounded her for sneaking out the night before, with a text full of threats about "your legs are not for dancing, they’re for winning, young lady!" and "focus if you want to survive my next practice."

Yura burst in with a radiant grin. "Guess who’s officially a girl mom?"

Min-kyung dropped her curling iron, spun around, and all but tackled Yura in a hug. "No way! Are you serious? This is the best news—oh my God, I’m going to spoil her rotten."

Yura laughed, hugging her back, warmth spreading through her chest. "Not before I do. Did you see the chat?"

"I did," Min-kyung said, then mock-whispered, "Alina is already plotting outfits. You should be scared."

They were both still laughing when Joon-ho came in, freshly showered and handsome in a dark button-down. He swept Yura into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Congratulations, mama."

She melted against him, closing her eyes. "Thank you, papa."

Min-kyung grinned at them, but a shadow flickered across her face. She caught herself in the mirror, patted down a flyaway, then gave them both a thumbs-up. "You two are disgustingly cute. Should I pretend to gag now or wait until dessert?"

Joon-ho just winked at her. "Dessert’s always best saved for later. You ready to go?"

Min-kyung nodded, snatching her purse and slipping into heels. "Let’s do it. I want to eat something sinful and drink something colder than my ex’s heart."

The restaurant they’d chosen was perched on the edge of the beach, the Mediterranean sparkling just beyond the glass. It was a place built for evenings—white tablecloths, candles flickering, floor-to-ceiling windows open to the breeze and the hush of waves. Their table was near the edge of the terrace, close enough to smell the salt in the air, just far enough to keep their conversation private.

A waiter with a French accent poured sparkling water, presented the menus, and left them to the gentle lull of the sea. Yura ordered a passionfruit mocktail; Min-kyung and Joon-ho opted for wine, laughter tumbling between them as they picked at fresh bread and olive oil. The food was exquisite—tender octopus, saffron risotto, a basket of grilled vegetables, flaky fish with lemon and capers. Yura tasted everything, cheeks flushed from more than just the food.

They talked about the baby. Yura confessed her fears and dreams—what kind of mother she’d be, the names she and Joon-ho were considering, whether their daughter would inherit her stubborn streak. Min-kyung chimed in with stories about her own childhood, her disastrous attempts at ballet, how she’d once cut her own bangs with kitchen scissors ("Don’t ever let your kid near a pair of shears, trust me").

For a while, it felt like the world beyond their table didn’t exist. Yura leaned in, letting the sound of the ocean and the laughter of friends wrap around her, safe and untouchable. But then, from across the restaurant, a ripple of awareness disturbed the calm.

Min-kyung froze. Her hand, reaching for a piece of bread, stilled halfway. Joon-ho glanced up, following her gaze.

A man had entered, tall and sharp-suited, his stride arrogant, his attention-demanding. He was flanked by a couple of sycophantic hangers-on—one man in sunglasses despite the dim light, another checking his phone every two seconds—and a woman in a tight dress with surgically perfected curves, dangling from his arm with a practiced pout.

Min-kyung stiffened, lips compressing. "Shit. That’s my ex."

Yura reached for her hand under the table, squeezing it tight.

The ex spotted their table, and his mouth curled into a practiced, insincere smile. He guided his group toward them, every step radiating the kind of confidence that comes from never being told no.

He didn’t bother with pleasantries. "Min-kyung," he drawled, glancing at Joon-ho and Yura as if they were furniture. "Didn’t expect to see you slumming it. And with... company."

Min-kyung gave him a look colder than dry ice. "It’s a small world. Didn’t realize you were stalking me across continents now."

He gave a wounded laugh, as if she’d made a joke at a party. "Stalking? Come on. Just enjoying the best Barcelona has to offer. Didn’t know you’d lowered your standards." His eyes flicked to Joon-ho, dismissive, then slid over Yura with predatory calculation. "Who’s the lucky man?"

Joon-ho sat back, calm, polite. "Her friend. Is there something you want?"

The woman on the ex’s arm snickered, her eyes full of empty malice. "Don’t mind him, he gets jealous when he sees people who’ve moved on."

The ex ignored her, instead leaning in too close, breath full of expensive liquor. "You know, Min-kyung, you could do better than these... little dinners. You could be back where you belong. My offer still stands."

Min-kyung’s smile was razor-thin. "Your offer was never that good to begin with."

The ex’s face tightened. His entourage watched, a little too interested, sensing drama.

Joon-ho’s tone didn’t change, but his eyes had sharpened. "We’re enjoying our meal. Why don’t you get back to yours?"

The ex’s companion made a face, as if the menu were suddenly offensive. "Can we sit somewhere else? This table smells like cheap wine and desperation."

Min-kyung’s grip tightened on her fork. "If you want to sit, pick a table far away. I’m sure you’ll find someone to listen to your stories."

The ex’s gaze lingered, something ugly in his eyes. "Careful, Min-kyung. You never know who you might run into. This city can be... unpredictable."

Joon-ho’s smile was razor sharp. "Noted. But we prefer peace and quiet. Please."

The ex glared, but under the eyes of the waitstaff and the other diners, he had to keep up appearances. He made a show of shrugging, retreating to a corner table with his group. The air around their table trembled with the tension of what hadn’t been said.

Min-kyung exhaled, letting the fork drop. "He’s such an asshole."

Yura squeezed her hand again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Min-kyung said, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "He always has to make a scene. Like he’s the star and everyone else is just... background."

Joon-ho reached over, voice low. "He won’t bother you again."

Min-kyung glanced at him, worry flickering. "Don’t get involved. He’s worse than he looks. Money, connections... he plays dirty."

Joon-ho nodded, calm. "Noted. Let’s just enjoy dinner."

They tried. They talked about anything but the ex—about food, travel, the Olympics, the absurdity of the world. Min-kyung managed a few laughs, though her eyes kept darting to the corner where her ex lounged, always watching.

Midway through dessert—a shimmering lemon tart, a scoop of violet gelato—the restaurant manager approached. He bent low, voice discreet. "Miss Min-kyung, Mr. Kim, if you wish, I can arrange for you to leave via the private lobby. There’s a car ready, and it’s quieter. Some guests prefer discretion."

Joon-ho met his gaze, grateful. "Thank you. That would be perfect."

The manager nodded, glancing at the ex’s table with practiced disdain. "We prefer to avoid unpleasantness for our best guests."

Yura slipped her hand into Min-kyung’s. "Come on, let’s go. We’ll finish dessert at home."

Min-kyung nodded, relieved. She stood, brushing imaginary crumbs from her dress, forcing herself not to look back as Joon-ho helped Yura to her feet. The manager led them through a side corridor, plush and quiet, to a private entrance where a car idled.

Joon-ho paused, eyes on Min-kyung. "Go with Yura. I’ll settle the bill and follow."

Min-kyung frowned, nerves sparking. "Be careful. He’s not above pulling something ugly."

Joon-ho nodded, voice soft. "I’ll be right behind you. Promise."

As Min-kyung and Yura slipped into the waiting car, the ex and his entourage blocked Joon-ho’s path near the exit, their bodies casual but their faces tight.

"Well, aren’t you the gentleman," the ex sneered. "Think you can step into my world, protect my girl? You have no idea who you’re dealing with."

Joon-ho’s face stayed calm, his voice low. "I’m not interested in games. Leave Min-kyung alone. She wants nothing to do with you."

The ex’s smile turned vicious. "You keep pushing, I’ll make you regret it. There are ways to ruin people, you know."

Joon-ho let a moment of silence stretch, his gaze steady. "Try anything, and you’ll find out I’m not that easy to ruin. Walk away."

The tension was thick enough to cut. The ex’s men looked to him for a signal, but the restaurant staff began to move closer—manager and security watching, guests pretending not to notice but clearly alert.

The ex straightened his jacket, forced a thin smile, and stepped aside. "Enjoy your meal. Barcelona’s a small city. See you around."

Joon-ho brushed past, not bothering to answer. He settled the bill, thanked the manager, and exited through the private lobby.

Min-kyung and Yura were waiting, both visibly anxious. When Joon-ho appeared, Min-kyung let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," he said, pulling her into a side hug. "Let’s go home."

The car rolled through the Barcelona night, city lights glittering on the sea. Back at the suite, the mood was quieter but warmer. Yura changed into pajamas, rubbing her belly, smiling every time she caught Joon-ho looking at her. Min-kyung curled up on the couch with a mug of tea, legs tucked beneath her, eyes far away but gradually softening as laughter and warmth seeped back in.

Joon-ho set his phone aside, sitting between them, arms stretched across the back of the sofa. "You know," he said quietly, "tonight sucked in parts, but I’m glad we faced it together."

Min-kyung smiled, tired but grateful. "Me too."

Yura nodded, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "We’re family now. No one gets to mess with that."

The city outside was still alive—horns and laughter and the faint thump of music—but inside their suite, it felt like a fortress. Not because they were untouchable, but because together, they were strong enough to face anything.

Min-kyung leaned her head on Joon-ho’s shoulder, closing her eyes. Yura nestled in closer, hand resting on her stomach. Joon-ho looked at both of them, heart full.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges—drama, work, maybe even more old ghosts. But tonight, they had each other. The world outside could wait.