Mr. Jeon accepted the proposal with a pleased smile, his voice warm and certain.
"Of course," he said. "If the children are comfortable, I see no reason to delay such a good match."
The words settled like a final stamp.
Hae-in didn't get a chance to speak.
Before she could even gather her thoughts, her mother joined them, her face lighting up as if this were the most natural turn of events. The conversation bloomed instantly. Laughter spilled across the circle, cups were raised, and plans were spoken of too casually for something so life-altering. Dates. Meetings. "Getting to know each other properly." Connections forming with frightening ease.
Mr. Han laughed heartily. Mrs. Jeon nodded enthusiastically. Someone mentioned fate.
Hae-in sat there, perfectly still. It felt like her hands had been tied without her noticing. Like she had been guided gently, politely, into a cage she had always feared, its doors closing with soft smiles and good intentions. No one saw the lock turn. No one heard the click.
She smiled when expected. Lowered her eyes when praised. Breathed shallowly.
Inside, her thoughts spiraled.
This wasn't how she had imagined her life unfolding. Not like this. Not without her voice. Dreams, plans, the version of herself she had carefully built. All of it suddenly felt fragile, pushed to the edges of the room, replaced by decisions made for her.
Across the circle, Ji-hoon glanced at her. For a fleeting second, their eyes met.
His expression softened, something warm spreading quietly across his face. His heart fluttered at the thought of her. The woman he had met only twice, yet fate had decided to weave her into his life so suddenly. The idea of her standing beside him, sharing a future, felt unreal and strangely comforting all at once.
The feelings were growing without warning, without permission. Too fast to name, too real to ignore.
He looked at her with possibility.
But she looked away like someone standing at the edge of a storm.
The laughter around her grew louder, warmer.
And Hae-in realized that the scariest part wasn't the proposal.
It was how easily everyone else seemed to believe this was happiness.
Later at home
"Finally… today was worth it," Hae-in's mother said, settling into the couch with a satisfied sigh. "Such wonderful people. Mrs Han was so warm. Their family seems really nice."
Mr Jeon nodded, a smile lingering on his face. "Yes. Our Hae-in received a very good proposal. The boy is handsome and well settled. A business family too… no financial struggle." He glanced at his daughter. "If your job feels stressful, you can leave it after marriage."
Hae-in didn't respond.
She sat there, unmoving.
Her heart raced, each beat loud in her ears. Thoughts collided, tangled, and sharpened. What just happened? When did this happen? How did I end up here? It felt like the floor beneath her had shifted without warning, trapping her somewhere she never agreed to stand.
Her mother noticed the silence and turned to her. "Hae-ina… don't overthink, my child. Overthinking only makes you anxious. Everything settles eventually." Her voice softened. "This will be the end of your struggles. You'll be happy."
Her eyes suddenly brimmed. "My daughter has struggled so much since childhood," she murmured, emotion creeping in. "Now everything will finally be fine." She leaned forward and kissed Hae-in's head gently.
Hae-in looked up at her.
Her eyes glistened, the weight pressing harder against her chest. Something inside her cracked, quiet but painful.
"Omma…" she whispered.
Her mother pulled back slightly, concerned. "What happened, Hae-ina?"
Hae-in swallowed, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.
"I don't want to get married yet," she said, her voice low, trembling.
Her father looked at her, surprised. But her mother had expected this.
"Wae…?" her mother asked, frowning slightly. "This is a good proposal, Hae-ina. They are a good family. Nice people. They will treat you well."
Hae-in shook her head slowly. "No, omma. I'm not ready yet." She inhaled, steadying herself. "I still have dreams to fulfil. And I'm still struggling to build carrer. I just need some time."
Her mother's expression tightened. "What dreams?" she interrupted. "We educated you. You have a job. You earn well. A stable life. You are at the right age to get married. What else do you want?"
She continued, her voice firm, almost practiced. "In our time, we barely received an education and were married off early. Earning was not even an option. But we gave you freedom to build your life." She paused pointedly. "If you want to do something different, you can do it after marriage. Don't push your marriage further."
Something inside Hae-in snapped.
The calm she had been holding onto slipped, heat rushing through her chest.
"What freedom, omma?" she asked suddenly, her voice steady but sharp. "I've always obeyed you since childhood. Every decision. Every step." Her fingers curled at her sides. "Did I ever get to do anything by my own choice?"
Her father's brows rose, anger flickering across his face slightly.
Her mother glared at her. "Whatever we gave you, whatever we asked you to do, was for your own future, Hae-in. We made you independent. Don't talk as if we ruined your life."
Hae-in stared at her, disbelief settling heavy in her chest.
"Stop overthinking," her mother continued, already turning away. "And get married soon. Tomorrow they are coming here for lunch. Take leave from the office."
With that, she stood up and started walking away.
"I don't want to get married." Hae-in's voice was firm this time. No tremble. No apology.
Her mother stopped mid-step.
"What did you say?" her mother asked sharply.
Her father spoke before she could respond. "What are you saying, Hae-ina?"
Hae-in lifted her chin and looked straight at him. Held his gaze. "I don't want to get married, appa."
The room went still.
"I'm not ready for this setup," she continued, words finally spilling after years of restraint. "And I'm not interested in the concept of marriage at all. I've been trying to tell you this for a long time, but you both never listened."
Her voice rose despite her effort to control it.
"I know you gave me education. I know you made me independent. I'm grateful for that." She swallowed. "But that is your responsibility as parents."
Her mother stiffened.
"Marriage," Hae-in said, her voice steady but burning, "is a personal choice. It's my life. I have the right to choose whether I want it or not."
She exhaled sharply, hands trembling now. "Why are you forcing this on me?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable.
"Hae-in!" her mother snapped.
Her father's expression hardened, anger flashing across his face.
"First, listen to me, omma," Hae-in said, her voice shaking but resolute. "You always shut me down whenever I talk about myself."
She took a deep breath, words tumbling out after years of being swallowed.
"Since childhood, I obeyed you. I did everything you asked. Every decision, every path, I followed it quietly." Her hands curled into fists. "But not this. I can't do this."
Her chest felt tight, but she pushed on.
"I don't want to fit into this society's norms. I have dreams. I want to study more. I want to do something that gives me happiness, fulfillment." Her voice cracked. "Right now, I'm not happy. This job is draining me. It's affecting my health, my mental health. I want to quit and build a career in something that actually makes me feel alive. And I've already planned it."
She clasped her hands together, almost pleading now. "So please… let me live my life."
Both her parents stared at her, stunned.
"You want to study again? At this age?" her mother asked, disbelief sharp in her tone.
"What age, omma?" Hae-in snapped. "I'm just twenty-six. Why do you talk like I'm turning eighty?"
Her mother inhaled sharply. "We're concerned because for a woman, this is the right time to get married and have children. Your biological clock won't wait while you chase dreams. If you wait too long, you'll be left alone. Nobody wants to marry a girl who crosses the preferred age."
The words hit hard.
Hae-in's jaw tightened. Her voice dropped, quiet but unyielding.
"Then let me live alone."
She looked at them, eyes burning yet steady.
"It's better to live alone than to live in an unhappy marriage."
"Who told you marriage is an unhappy thing?" her father snapped, his voice sharp enough give chills.
"Why does someone have to tell me, appa?" Hae-in replied, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I can see it. I live among people. I understand how marriage feels for many of them."
Her father's eyes hardened. "You're imagining things. Filling your head with nonsense. Stop watching those so-called feminist movies."
"I've already promised Mr. Han in front of everyone," he continued. "I can't go back on my word now. Don't make me lose face."
Hae-in's hands slowly dropped to her sides.
"Get yourself ready for this new chapter," he said firmly. "After marriage, do whatever you want. We won't interfere."
Before she could respond, he stood up, dismissing the conversation. Her mother followed him without another glance, footsteps fading down the hallway.
The room fell silent.
Hae-in remained where she was, staring at nothing. It felt as though something invisible had snapped shut around her. Not loudly. Not violently. Just… final.
A cage, neatly locked with promises made by others.
Her chest felt heavy, breath uneven. Her thoughts spiraled. After marriage, do whatever you want. As if dreams could be postponed like unused furniture. As if freedom could survive being negotiated away.
She leaned back against the couch, eyes stinging, staring at the ceiling that suddenly felt too low. watching her dreams getting crushed one by one.
On the other side of the city, Ji-hoon lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling, a foolish smile stitched permanently on his face. Sleep hovered nearby but refused to claim him. A quiet joy had bloomed somewhere deep in his chest, soft and warm, like a secret only his heart knew.
Hae-in.
Just her name was enough to send a flutter through his chest. He pressed his face into the pillow, grinning like he had lost all sense of dignity.
Three days ago.
He could still picture her standing inside his restaurant that night. Tired eyes. Slouched shoulders. Hunger written all over her, not just for food but for rest, for relief. The way she had asked so simply, if he could feed her something.
He smiled to himself.
She had walked in exhausted… and walked out carrying a piece of his mind with her.
He hugged the pillow tighter.
"So this is how it is?" he murmured to the ceiling. "This is what they call love at first sight."
Love at first sight felt too dramatic a phrase, yet this felt… inevitable. Like something that had been circling him quietly and finally landed.
It felt unreal. Magical in a way logic could never explain. If she was not meant for him, then why did she keep appearing like this? Again and again, at his restaurant. At a wedding. In his thoughts, into places he did not even know were empty. Uninvited but welcome. He had searched this feeling before, in faces, in conversations, in half-finished feelings. But none of them stayed.
She did.
Yes. It was her. The one he had imagined without a face, dreamt of without a name.
A sudden thought crept in and softened his smile.
What must she be feeling right now? How was she processing all of this? He thought.
"She must be happy," he murmured to himself, convincing his own racing heart.
She had smiled today, hadn't she? That shy curve of her lips, the way her eyes dipped for a second longer than needed.
"She's cute though…" he added, wiggling slightly against the mattress, grinning at nothing.
"Hae-in…" He whispered her name slowly, tasting it like something sweet. His smile lingered, unguarded, boyish.
"You're mine now… cutie," he said softly, more like a promise than a claim. "I'll take care of you like my queen. I promise. I'm going to love you so much…"
The room stayed silent, listening.
Ji-hoon hugged the pillow tighter, a small chuckle escaping him as excitement buzzed under his skin. "Tomorrow… I'm coming for you."
The words dissolved into the quiet as his eyelids finally grew heavy. Still smiling, still dreaming, he drifted into sleep like a teenager discovering love for the first time, already imagining her face, already waiting for tomorrow.