MO - 2 

“It’s Ryu Tae-han.”

The hands arranging the flowers paused again. Seo-eun, who had been trimming a rose stem with her gaze fixed in the air, only snapped back to attention after feeling a sharp prick on her fingertip.

“Ah.”

A single drop of red blood welled up on her skin, pricked by a thorn.

“There it goes again.”

She had been like this ever since returning from the anniversary party at Haeshin Hotel. Seo-eun put down her floral scissors and searched for a band-aid, which she then applied to her finger. For some reason, a fragment of the memory she had encountered refused to fade.

“It’s Ryu Tae-han.”

The large hand reaching out into the air. The long, straight fingers and the warm sensation when their palms met. When that hand grasped Seo-eun’s, her heart involuntarily thumped.

This wasn’t her first time meeting Ryu Tae-han. The anniversary event came around every year, and the Haeshin family always attended. Of course, she hadn’t attended when she was preparing for university entrance exams or had other important personal matters, so even these chance encounters were only once every few years.

This was her first time encountering him since she became an adult, or more precisely, since he was assigned to the duty-free business division of HSDC Investment Development, where her father worked. Therefore, this was also the first time they had exchanged words. Since Seo-eun belonged to a completely different circle, she had never even considered mingling with him.

Some people might try to forge connections with them using chance encounters as an excuse, but Seo-eun wasn’t that type. Heesook, her mother, was also the kind of person who saw such rare opportunities as a chance to climb, so whenever she saw how people drew invisible class lines, she realized anew his position in society.

Therefore, it was safer and more comfortable for Seo-eun not to associate with him, and to avoid entering his sphere altogether.

They had no common ground.

Aside from exchanging a few words or a brief greeting, there was no point of contact between them. The fact that it was uncertain whether they would meet again even provided a justification for her not to approach him, unlike others.

That’s why when Ryu Tae-han pushed through the crowd and walked toward her, she froze on the spot.

“Was I too awkward?”

Recalling that unnatural moment, she thought that her greeting then was probably sufficient courtesy for a company employee’s family member like Seo-eun to show to a member of the owner’s family who would inherit Haeshin and lead the company.

However, the resonant, deep voice saying “It’s Ryu Tae-han” kept coming back to her.

His intimidating physique, striking appearance, and the sense of stability conveyed by his strong, straightforward impression. Seo-eun, who had been absently thinking of the man who looked her in the eye and finally let out a small laugh, quickly shook her head, snapping out of her reverie.

“What’s wrong with me?”

What was this delusion, when she was supposed to be preparing flowers for the family gathering this evening?

That day was just a little more unique than usual. Ryu Tae-han recognizing her first and approaching her for a greeting was clearly due to Seo-eun’s unusual attire, which made her stand out.

As her father had said, once she became an adult, she had to find her own life, and from Seo-eun’s perspective, who had tried hard not to rely on her parents, it was her best effort.

No, in fact, she desperately wanted to avoid it. So she had tried to escape such an event by volunteering at a dog shelter, but her clumsy attempt at an excuse had only backfired.

Seo-eun looked up at her small sanctuary.

The small flower shop in Seongsu-dong, “Seven O’Clock.” This small flower shop, signifying 7 o’clock, was run solely by Seo-eun.

After quitting ballet, which she had considered her lifelong calling, and after graduating from university for the second time without finding anything that truly captured her heart, she met Yuk Song-i, who ran a plant interior cafe. Song-i had been introduced by Seung-won as a way to calm her mind. Under Yuk Song-i’s guidance that “plants never betray,” she became deeply immersed in flowers for a long time. Then, at Song-i’s suggestion, she started a small shop. After searching almost all over Seoul, she finally found a spot in the same building where Seung-won had briefly run a wine bar.

It had been three years since Seo-eun established her business, renting the first floor of the building where Seung-won’s parents had operated a teahouse for over a decade at an affordable rate. Her main income came primarily from reservation orders, and while the income wasn’t significant, it was now enough to make a living. Recently, more romantic people would casually walk in and buy a single flower, which was a growing trend.

She was grateful to be living in an era where romance hadn’t completely died.

Seo-eun meticulously finished arranging the bouquet, a faint smile on her face. In her past, she thought nothing would be left of her life except ballet. She had never dreamed she would live such a life, but as she lived, she found that things didn’t always go as planned.

The fortunate thing was that every day she lived now was satisfying.

“Phew, it’s done.”

Seo-eun, who had created a lush bouquet in an instant, checked the clock. 5:00 PM. The time she had promised Heesook was approaching.

Ding-a-ling.

Just as she was thinking of getting ready to leave, the wind chime hanging on the door jingled. It was a gift Seung-won had brought back from a short trip to Japan last year.

“Welcome.”

Thinking it would be her last customer of the day, she raised her head toward the entrance. Seo-eun froze, rigid, at the sight of the large man filling the doorway. The man, looking around the interior as he stepped inside, was Ryu Tae-han.

“What brings you here?”

“If I have business at a flower shop, what else would it be? I came to buy flowers.”

His gaze, which had calmly swept around the interior, returned to Seo-eun.

That’s true, but.

It was 5:00 PM. A typical office worker would still be at work. Moreover, there was a considerable distance from his company headquarters to Seo-eun’s shop.

Seo-eun’s mouth briefly gaped, and her eyes rolled around as she assessed the situation. An unannounced, sudden visit. She didn’t know how he found out about this place, but the man’s demeanor clearly suggested it wasn’t a coincidence. There was something strangely resolute about him. After listing various possibilities in her mind for a short time, Seo-eun stopped thinking.

If he has business at a flower shop, it can only be to buy flowers.

His words were right. Seo-eun tilted her lips and smiled kindly in response to Tae-han’s grin.

“Did you get home safely that day?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That’s a relief.”

Contrary to her worries that there would be a big fuss afterward, Heesook was surprisingly quiet. Hyung-guk’s reaction upon seeing Seo-eun in jeans was also similar to Heesook’s. He was displeased, of course, but it was nothing more.

She knew from Jin-han and her mother, Heesook, that Seo-eun’s appearance, which had caused such chaos there, was still being talked about. Her cheeks felt embarrassingly hot.

“And you, Sangmu-nim, did you get home safely?”

“Of course.”

He nodded leisurely, gazing at Seo-eun with a rather satisfied expression.

“You remember me.”

“How could I forget?”

Seo-eun smiled faintly, the corners of her lips turning up shyly.

Even putting aside all other reasons, you were the most noticeable person in such a large crowd. She thought this to herself, looking up at the man standing before her. Even indoors, his gaze, much higher than Seo-eun’s, cut diagonally across.

He was this tall.

Enough for a shadow to fall across Seo-eun’s face as she looked up.

Seeing him tower like a peak amidst the crowded skyscrapers of people, she had guessed he had a large build. When he approached, she realized her guess was true, and just like that day, tension wrapped around Seo-eun’s ankles again.

Being alone in a small space, facing him so closely, his presence felt like a mountain. Was it because his gaze, so clear it was almost intimidating, met hers? Seo-eun involuntarily clasped her hands together respectfully.

“Are you looking for any specific flowers?”

“Flowers? Ah, right.”

Tae-han’s gaze, lowered to Seo-eun, noticed that her slender, straight shoulders were stiff with tension. A pale apricot dress with a dark green apron. Beneath her rolled-up sleeves, her tightly clasped hands showed white knuckles.

“Freesias.”

He pointed to the yellow freesias blooming in the showroom.

“A bouquet, please. You’ll do a good job without me saying anything, so just go with your taste, President.”

He finished his selection without much thought and smiled brightly. At the word “President” that he uttered, Seo-eun unconsciously chuckled. It was a very small shop to be called “President,” but the sound wasn’t bad.

“Freesias are at the end of their season, so you’re lucky to catch them now.”

“I have a good feeling about this.”

Seo-eun simply nodded quietly at his gentle voice. She intended to treat him as she would any other customer who came to the shop. However, when Tae-han’s gaze brushed her cheek, then her hands, then past the flowers she had laid out, and finally pierced her eyes, her hands trembled subtly for a moment.

But without revealing anything, Seo-eun calmly handled the flowers.

On the table, Seo-eun placed freesias, pristine white spirea branches, yellow violas, and lilies of the valley. Her movements within the minimal space beyond the table were nimble and skilled.

“Is this a gift?”

“There’s someone I want to cheer on for their new beginning.”

His gaze, as he nodded, crossed over to her indifferently. Seo-eun naturally assumed the recipient was a woman. It would be absurd for a man like him not to have a woman in his life. But she didn’t ask. Many customers found it burdensome when she asked too many questions just to be friendly.

While she trimmed the stems and layered the flowers for wrapping, he stood there, watching idly. It was an ambiguous gaze; it was unclear whether he was watching the process of her quickly creating the bouquet or watching Seo-eun herself.

Under his watchful eye, Seo-eun layered pale yellow and white tissue paper and neatly tied the base with two ribbons of the same color palette.

“It’s done. How does it look? I added yellow violas around the freesias, and some lilies of the valley too.”

“What’s this?”

Tae-han pointed to the white spirea flowers in the bouquet.

“Spirea (Jo-pap).”

“Jot-bap?” (Korean slang for someone easily defeated, a loser)

“...”

“...”

A moment of silence hung in the air after the word, which had come out as naturally as everyday speech.

“...”

“...”

If there was any fault, it was with the beautiful flower that had a name so prone to misunderstanding. Even if not, Seo-eun kept telling herself that and acted nonchalantly.

“It’s a flower called Jo, pap.”

“Ah, right. Jo, pap.”

“...”

“...”

She had corrected him kindly, but the nuance between the word Seo-eun had emphasized and the word Tae-han had repeated was subtly different. Was it just her imagination that his pleasing, gentle voice sounded like an expletive? The corners of Seo-eun’s lips, barely held in a smile, twitched.

“Yes, that’s right. Jo-pap.”

He took a step closer to Seo-eun, who was perfunctorily nodding. Tae-han’s broad upper body, with his chin tucked and head tilted, leaned in as if about to spill over Seo-eun.

“Is something wrong?”

“What... is?”

The cool scent of the ocean, emanating from him as he leaned in close, subtly mingled with Seo-eun’s own scent. Her heart pounded. He twisted his lips into a faint smile.

“I apologize. I have a family member whose language habits aren’t very good.”

At his words, she wondered if he was referring to the older or younger of the other two she had seen at the Youngbin Hall.

“You worked hard. It’s beautiful.”

He took the bouquet Seo-eun handed him and said, meeting her eyes. It was a casual tone, but his gaze was soft, easy to misunderstand.

“Thank you.”

“Next time, let’s have a cup of tea.”

“Oh... I was so flustered, I completely forgot. Would you like something to drink...?”

“Next time.”

Tae-han chuckled softly as Seo-eun, who had been so composed when handling flowers, belatedly fumbled.

“See you again.”

He took the flowers, turned, and strode away.

His large back, which had filled her vision, quickly receded. Was the bouquet in his hand really that small? Seo-eun, staring blankly at the bouquet swaying in the air, leaned back in her chair as if collapsing after Tae-han had completely disappeared.

I’m tired.

She felt completely drained of energy. Gazing at the entrance, which now showed no trace of him, Seo-eun thought of the freesia bouquet that had been swaying in Tae-han’s fingertips just moments before.

A new beginning, a cheer.

Your future.

Did he know the meaning when he took it? Along with the thought that the flowers strangely suited him, Seo-eun’s heart fluttered ever so slightly, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time, and a secret to everyone else.

________________________________________

The main house in Pangyo was bustling with dinner preparations. The interior, as they opened the door, was filled with the delicious aroma of the food Heesook had meticulously cooked. The savory scent of bubbling doenjang jjigae, the sesame oil smell of mixed vegetables, and the fresh aroma of seafood wafted to her nose.

“Mom, I’m home.”

As she entered with a peony bouquet, Heesook, coming out of the kitchen, wiped her hands on her apron and smiled brightly.

“Why did you bring flowers?”

“No reason. You like these, Mom.”

Heesook buried her face in the bouquet, then, with a pleased expression, carried it into the kitchen.

“Hi, sister.”

As Seo-eun came out after washing her hands, Hae-in opened her door and peeked out to greet her.

“If you’re home, why don’t you help Mom?”

“I was helping until just now, and the moment I went in to rest, unnie arrived. How can you see me as a disrespectful child who makes her old mother do all the work?”

Hae-in pouted in disappointment and pointed dramatically at the sparkling clean house, shouting triumphantly.

“This body did all the cleaning today, despite being busy!”

“Good job, Joo Hae-in. You’re the best.”

Seo-eun ruffled her hair, and only then did Hae-in smile, saying she’d lie down for a bit, and went into her room. Seo-eun immediately rolled up her sleeves and entered the kitchen.

“The shop? Did you close it?”

“I had to.”

“Were there no customers?”

“All reservation orders were handled in the morning, so it wasn’t busy.”

The sudden visit from Tae-han briefly crossed her mind but was gone in an instant.

“You worked hard.”

“Hardly. Mom’s doing all the work.”

Heesook’s hands were busy chopping on the cutting board, even though the dining table was already filled with a spread. The pleasant thump-thump of the knife calmed Seo-eun’s mind.

It had been six years since Seo-eun left home, having moved out at the age of twenty-three to live alone right after entering university for the second time.

She would occasionally stop by her friend Joo-young’s ballet studio, which was in the neighborhood, but visits to her parents’ home were rare.

Life just happened that way. Even though their family relationship wasn’t strained, whenever she saw Heesook unable to leave the kitchen even for a brief appearance, Seo-eun worried she was being a burden.

Of course, Heesook was genuinely disappointed about such matters. While her younger sister Hae-in still lived under the same roof, Hae-in, as a bandoneonist in a band, was frequently away from home due to broadcasts, performances, and her current work.

Consequently, Heesook seemed to feel increasingly lonely. Twice a month, Heesook would purposefully arrange dinner gatherings to bring her family together. After shopping early and enjoying a meal lovingly prepared by her, beginning Sunday by attending mass with the whole family at church was Heesook’s sole pleasure.

Seo-eun, whose faith was flimsy and akin to that of an apostate, knew well that this was the only way to maintain peace in the household.

While helping Heesook, Hae-in came in with a large haul of beer. She reasoned that since it was a rare occasion for the four family members to gather harmoniously, alcohol couldn’t be left out.

Dinner began when Joo Hyung-guk returned from work in the evening and took his first spoonful. With Heesook’s excellent cooking skills, all four family members enjoyed dinner happily. As the ten cans of beer Hae-in bought were almost empty, Hyung-guk patted his full stomach and began to speak.

“I think I’ll retire soon.”

“What?”

Seo-eun, who was peeling an apple, stopped her movements and looked up.

“What do you mean, Father? You’re going to retire?”

“Dad!”

Hae-in, who had been sipping beer and flattering Hyung-guk, also looked back at Seo-eun with a bewildered expression.

“I’ve achieved all my goals in this life.”

“No, Father.”

Seo-eun put down the apple, which she had been peeling of its bright red skin.

The sudden call from Heesook to visit the main house for dinner on a weekday evening had come when Seo-eun was having coffee with Joo-young, who had come to her shop, to discuss Joo-young’s wedding, which was less than a month away.

“It’s nothing big, your father just wants to see your face.”

Seeing his face wasn’t difficult since they lived so close, but it had only been a week since the commotion at the anniversary party.

For some reason, Heesook’s hesitation over the phone had felt strange even after hanging up. She had visited her parents’ house at the appointed time, only to be met with her father’s sudden retirement announcement. Seo-eun was blinking her eyes, unable to respond.

“I’m going to sort everything out and move to the countryside with your mother. I want to farm and live a more relaxed life.”

“As if anyone can just farm.”

Hae-in, her face flushed from the alcohol, muttered softly, just loud enough to be heard.

“Father, what’s the sudden reason for this decision?”

If that were the case, why did he act so intimately with the Haeshin family at the anniversary party? Seo-eun looked at Hyung-guk with a completely bewildered expression, and Heesook, sitting beside him, spoke instead.

“Your father’s had this long-cherished dream. To retire and go back to his hometown, farm quietly, and live a peaceful life.”

“No, but Father, you’ve been doing so well until now...”

“Your father’s also tired. He’s lived like a machine his whole life, working in the company. He’s done wonderfully. Now he’ll retire, and Mom and I will go see flowers, travel abroad, and live comfortably. Mom agreed to it.”

At Heesook’s comforting understanding, Hyung-guk looked at his wife and smiled benevolently.

“Mom!”

“No, Father!”

“Who said you two had to take responsibility for our old age?”

Heesook frowned and chided the two daughters, who had spoken at the same time. The two daughters, who had been about to add something, clamped their mouths shut.

Her father, still so vibrant, suddenly retiring made her worried. Was something going on? Could Ryu Tae-han’s sudden visit to the shop also be because of this? Seo-eun’s mind was a jumble of thoughts.

She was keenly aware that her father, who had served as the president of an affiliate of the prestigious Haeshin Group, had lived his entire life solely for his family.

Joo Hyung-guk was born the eldest of four siblings in Gijang, Busan, and had lived his whole life as a patriarch without a father. His dedication to studying, driven solely by the desire to provide for his family, and the hardships he endured to reach his position, were known even without further explanation.

As the proud son of a mother who raised her children alone without a husband, and as the hope of his younger siblings, for whom he sacrificed to clothe and educate, and even after marrying them off, he still supported those who couldn’t escape a meager life.

Thus, he was a man who couldn’t rest for a single day and was stingy with himself. Knowing the life her father had lived, Seo-eun couldn’t actively dissuade him. Her mind was simply a complex mixture of worry for her father and calculations about how she would financially support her parents from now on.

Though they said they wouldn’t lean on their children, Seo-eun knew better than anyone that her ability to live without want her whole life was thanks to her father, who had tirelessly worked, and her mother, who had managed the household diligently.

“When are you planning to retire?”

“Before the end of this year. So, bring someone home before I retire.”

“Dad!”

What was this now?

The two daughters stared at him, dumbfounded and exasperated, at Hyung-guk’s additional suggestion with only half a year left.

“It’s about time you got married.”

“...”

Seo-eun was speechless, only able to part her lips.

“Yes, my friend Mi-sook’s daughter just had a baby. Jung-gyu’s family also had a grandson. Only I don’t have one, just me. I have no son-in-law, no grandchildren. Every time I go to alumni gatherings, everyone just brags about their grandchildren now. How shabby I feel then. It really makes you feel left out.”

“Yes, we’ve waited long enough.”

She wondered why the conversation suddenly veered there, and then Hyung-guk and the rest of the family’s gazes fell on Seo-eun. Joo Hae-in, why are you doing this too? A sense of inexplicable crisis made cold sweat trickle down her spine. Seo-eun’s eyes rolled around. Looking left, looking right, expectant gazes pressured Seo-eun from all sides.

“...”

Seo-eun couldn’t answer the unexpected notification. A promise is only made when it can be kept. She wasn’t seeing anyone, so how could she suddenly bring someone home? There was no one in particular who came to mind. She hadn’t expected this at all, hadn’t anticipated that her father’s retirement would suddenly lead to her marriage, so she held her breath, speechless.

It felt like the well-eaten meal was flowing back up. As she tried to choose a response, desperately avoiding Hyung-guk’s ultimatum-like gaze, a solemn voice pierced her ear.

“Seo-eun, did you understand?”

A bomb had suddenly dropped.

________________________________________

“I need some antacids.”

When she opened Hae-in’s door after finishing the dishes, Hae-in, who was emptying medicine into her mouth, tapped out two capsules and handed them over.

“Ugh, I’m dying.”

“I have indigestion too.”

Though all she’d had was beer, Hae-in, her face pale, pounded her chest.

“Did you know?”

“If I had known, I would’ve contacted you first, unnie.”

Hae-in lay down on the bed, claiming she had no idea. Inside the closed, small room, the sisters were serious. Seo-eun pulled a chair to the foot of Hae-in’s bed.

“Why is Father suddenly like this? Is he perhaps not well?”

“He said his health is fine. He even said his recent health check-up results were good. Oh, he does have high blood pressure, so he’s still taking medication for that, but...”

But why suddenly?

“So, bring someone before Father retires.”

The final, decisive voice echoed in her mind, and she let out a hollow laugh. It was a clear warning. Hyung-guk’s words, “We’ve waited long enough,” resonated in her ears like tinnitus. Seo-eun pressed her lips together, her face grim.

“It’s time. It’s time to welcome the brother-in-law I’ve always wished for.”

“Hey, Joo Hae-in.”

“So, hurry up and bring someone. Lately, whenever a wedding invitation flies in, Mom is depressed all day.”

“Where am I supposed to suddenly find someone when I don’t have anyone?”

“Well, that’s your skill to show off, unnie.”

Hae-in needled her, asking if she didn’t have a hidden ace up her sleeve. Seo-eun wrapped her head in her hands, pondering.

What change of heart could have possibly led him to say such a thing, knowing she wasn’t seeing anyone? Even as she tried to understand her parents’ intentions, it was difficult to comprehend.

“No, why are they really doing this? Is something really going on?”

“What do you mean, something? Mom and Dad just want you to get married now, unnie.”

Her parents’ sudden talk of marriage, when she wasn’t prepared, was nothing short of a bolt from the blue for Seo-eun.

“Actually, since we’re talking about it, I’ve kept it to myself so as not to bother you, unnie. But Mom’s been really anxious lately. When she hears about weddings around her, adults typically ask, ‘When is unnie getting married?’ and so on, you know.”

“...”

“Of course, marriage isn’t just some random thing, much less a joke. Weddings among acquaintances happening like a trend is something that happens every season, every year. But...”

Seo-eun could tell what Hae-in’s trailing off meant. She nodded in silence.

“Alright. I’ll pay more attention to Mom and Dad for a while.”

“But unnie.”

Hae-in gazed at Seo-eun with a much calmer expression.

“This anxiety will fundamentally only disappear when a marriage takes place.”

Hae-in added, looking at her with a mix of pity and expectation.

“It’s been like this since we were little, hasn’t it? Our father is the kind of person who can only sleep soundly once he’s achieved what he set out to do. And who’s Dad’s favorite? It’s you, unnie. Perhaps Dad’s biggest goal in life right now is to see you get married like everyone else and live well. Dad’s health isn’t guaranteed for a thousand years, and it’s true that it’s better to get married while he’s still active.”

“...”

“If you’ve received all that unwavering love, it’s about time to repay it, don’t you think?”

Whenever such a moment arrived, she felt suffocated. She desperately wished she could scatter into the air.

During the times they had to live frugally despite her father’s booming income, whenever a little extra room appeared, all opportunities were given to Seo-eun. If an office worker, who knew nothing but working hard, were to devote everything to one of their two children, it would naturally be the eldest, Seo-eun.

From a young age, if the bright Seo-eun wanted to study, they’d get her a tutor, and if she showed interest in drawing, they’d send her to art classes. When she showed interest in musical notes, they immediately brought a piano into the house, and it was no exaggeration to say that she monopolized all benefits while mastering various instruments in that way.

Then one day, after watching The Nutcracker at the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts, she came back and said she wanted to dance. The very next day, her father immediately sent her to a dance academy with Heesook.

While all the family’s expectations and benefits went to her, Hae-in quietly found her own path through a hands-off upbringing, exploring and preparing for the things she liked one by one.

One day, when Hae-in was graduating from middle school, she suddenly made a defiant declaration that she wouldn’t go to high school. As if challenging him to a duel, her sister went out for dinner alone with their father, and on the way back, she flashed a V-sign and smiled, saying she was now attending a music academy.

“So, unnie, let’s be filial now.”

“How is marriage filial piety?”

“What do you mean? It’s the greatest filial piety in life. I want a wonderful brother-in-law too. I’m dying of envy whenever my friends get to use their brother-in-law’s connections. Material desires can be solved by spending money, but a desire for a brother-in-law can only be satisfied by you, unnie.”

Hae-in muttered, looking at the ceiling, as if it were her wish.

If that’s a wish, do I really have to make it come true?

Seo-eun was so dumbfounded that she let out an involuntary, hollow laugh.

“I haven’t been this desperate since I fought to study music on my own without going to high school, unnie.”

When their eyes met, a thorny pang of conscience pricked her again. In a solemn silence, the sisters each fell into their own thoughts.

As Heesook said, life wasn’t about doing only what you wanted. Nevertheless, marriage was almost a story from another world for Seo-eun.

Joo Seo-eun at twenty-two. That was when she gave up the extravagant life she had lived, unlike her sister, with the full support of her family. After Seo-eun’s frustration at trying to become a proud pillar of the family, she knew how her father must have felt when he declared, “There will be no more arts and athletics in our house.” She also knew his disappointment then was beyond words.

Seo-eun quietly looked up at the music stand beneath the bed and the bandoneon carefully placed in front of it. Watching the instrument, which was now almost one with Hae-in, complex feelings, like a perpetual debt, welled up within her.

The duty of the eldest daughter. The responsibility of the firstborn. It would be a lie to say those feelings weren’t there. But still, what kind of era was this? A life without marriage was respected, and more and more people were choosing to live independently. But Seo-eun knew that ideals were just ideals.

Marriage. Did it have to be such an important issue that it dictated her current life?

Was simply being grateful for living each day peacefully not enough?

Unspoken emotions tangled inside her like a complex spiderweb.

Seeing Seo-eun lost in thought, staring blankly at the instrument, Hae-in belatedly became aware of her mood. Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Seo-eun exhaled a shallow breath.

“I’ll find an alternative somehow.”

“I didn’t mean to burden you, unnie. I know. I know you’re struggling enough. But even if I wanted to do something for you, I can’t get married instead of you at twenty-five, can I?”

Hae-in’s boyfriend, who played guitar in the jazz band where Hae-in was the leader, had been making music with her since university. Having been in the same industry together for a long time, the boyfriend, two years older, wanted to settle down sooner due to the comfort of their long-standing relationship. But wasn’t reality different?

“What marriage at that age, Joo Hae-in? You still have endless things to do. Don’t think useless thoughts.”

Around that time, Seo-eun was living as if a day had 48 hours, having entered her second university. She had dropped out of the Department of Dance at Korea University in her second year, first semester, and was starting fresh, changing her career path entirely.

She didn’t want to pass on such a burden to her younger sister already. After all, the first marriage in the family was Seo-eun’s responsibility.

“Before that, date! Logically, you have to meet someone for there to be any possibility. But you, unnie, you don’t even think about meeting anyone.”

Hae-in lamented, saying that was the problem, offering her advice.

“Do stars fall into your lap if you just sit still? You have to look at the sky to pick stars. Are you going to live like that, celibate, your whole life? It’s been years since that happened.”

Hae-in hit her chest with her palm, as if frustrated, then her eyes widened in surprise at her own words.

A sudden remark pulled the past into the present. The moment she lost consciousness, like a blown fuse in rising smoke. Even though so much time had passed that it should be long forgotten, that moment suddenly came to mind as vividly as if it had happened yesterday.

Seo-eun became abruptly quiet. Her stiff cheeks were pale. Watching Seo-eun, who was terrifyingly silent, Hae-in bit her lip. She had unintentionally reopened Seo-eun’s wound.

“Anyway, my mouth gets ahead of me. I’m sorry.”

Hae-in slapped her own mouth with her palm, apologizing and saying she hadn’t meant it.

“No.”

It was true. Nothing Hae-in said was wrong. Seo-eun only smiled bitterly.

“So, what I mean is, I was just saying we should pay more attention because I’m worried about Dad.”

“Right. Of course, we should.”

Seo-eun lightly bumped her loosely clenched fist against Hae-in’s extended fist. Thump. Between their prominent knuckles, an affection and alliance, a sisterly bond that lay somewhere in between, was etched.

It was an unusually pensive night.

________________________________________

An hour made up of 60 minutes. A day completed by 24 of those hours, and a week filled by seven of those days. Time flowed on like that.

For a while after visiting her parents’ home, things were quiet. Perhaps feeling sorry for suddenly bringing up marriage, Heesook called her several times. Just as Seo-eun was regaining her composure by vaguely deflecting Heesook’s calls with excuses of being busy, her peace was shattered by a late-night call from Hae-in.

“Unnie, Dad’s acting strange.”

It was a call reporting that her father, who had come home after midnight completely drunk, had been standing by the window for a long time, staring blankly outside. No matter how much she talked to him or tried to nudge his back, he wouldn’t budge, just endlessly staring down at the veranda.

“I’ll go see Father separately.”

Seo-eun reassured Hae-in and hung up the phone. But she couldn’t sleep all night.

There had to be a reason why her father suddenly decided to retire.

The increasing number of things he didn’t usually do felt like some kind of signal, weighing on her mind. And so, her footsteps led her to the Haeshin Hotel Arcade. There was no other reason she came here immediately after spending a sleepless night and leaving home in the morning.

“Are you looking for something specific?”

As soon as she entered the store, a sales associate kindly approached Seo-eun.

“I’d like to look at men’s ties.”

“Is it a gift?”

“Yes.”

The associate, who had asked about the purpose, showed her a selection of silk ties arranged in various colors. Among the vibrantly toned ties, Seo-eun chose a soft pink one. It was a design with a gently shimmering pink background, densely embroidered with the brand’s logo.

“I’m thinking of gifting this to my father. Would this be too flashy for someone in their 60s?”

“Not at all, customer,” the employee said with a kind smile.

“As you can see, the tie’s color is a calm pink that doesn’t stand out too much, and the logo subtly tones down the playful feel, actually giving it a more luxurious look. It’s a new item this season, and you have excellent taste. It’s popular among younger people, but it’s also well-received as a gift for elders.”

“I just thought this one was pretty.”

Seo-eun fidgeted with the pink tie she had first chosen and smiled.

Hae-in’s call aside, her father’s retirement announcement had been constantly on her mind ever since she returned from home. Contrary to his words about making that decision for a comfortable retirement, her father seemed depressed that evening. And then there was his heavy drinking last night.

“I’ll take this one. Please wrap it.”

She hoped the pink tie she chose for her father would bring him some comfort, even if only for a short while.

Now that she thought about it, it had been a long time since she chose a gift for her father. A few years ago, when Joo Hyung-guk was inaugurated as president, she had bought him a new briefcase and wallet, but he still kept Seo-eun’s gifts carefully stored in their orange boxes, deep inside his wardrobe.

Every time she saw him clinging to his old, well-worn bag and asked him why he still hadn’t thrown it away and used the new one, Joo Hyung-guk would just laugh heartily with a kind face.

“It’s because it’s too precious.”

Thinking of his pleased face, as if he were handling a rare treasure, made her heart even more troubled. Come to think of it, the only thing Joo Hyung-guk used without reservation was perhaps a tie.

“My daughter worked hard to earn money and buy me a gift. I should save it for a special occasion later.”

Her mouth felt bitter as she reflected on her father’s life, where he had erased himself for the sake of his children.

Just then, the automatic doors of the store opened, and the outside air flowed in. With the presence of someone entering the store, the atmosphere subtly shifted. The scattered employees instantly aligned themselves, and the manager, who had hastily appeared, rushed forward to greet him politely.

“Welcome, Sangmu-nim. If you had contacted us beforehand, we would have prepared everything for you.”

“No, it’s fine. I just needed to stop by briefly.”

The faint voice from behind her sounded familiar. Seo-eun instinctively turned her head. The man, who entered receiving such lavish treatment, was Ryu Tae-han. Dressed in a magnificent blue-tinted suit, with one hand tucked into his pants pocket, he smiled generously at the manager.

“How was the shirt I sent you last time?”

“It fit well and was good.”

“That’s a relief. Coincidentally, we have an item today that’s the only one imported into the country, and as soon as I saw it, I thought it would suit you perfectly, so I prepared it.”

“Thank you.”

Tae-han took a step inward with a perfunctory greeting, then stopped abruptly. He had spotted Seo-eun standing in front of the tie section.

As their eyes met, a puzzled look crossed his usually generous gaze. It was only about ten paces away. Instead of closing the distance, a clear gaze was conveyed. Seo-eun hid her awkwardness and pulled her lips into a smile. Soon, he subtly tilted his lips and nodded. Seo-eun also gave a light nod. It was about this time that the surrounding gazes began to converge on Seo-eun.

Through the entrance, which opened a beat late, a woman rushed in.

“Why are you walking so fast?”

The urgent click-clack of high heels echoed through the store. The woman complained, yet didn’t seem displeased at all, as she walked straight to Tae-han and subtly slipped her arm into his. She was a tall, slender woman with a model-like physique. However, next to the tall and large Tae-han, she looked infinitely delicate.

Her body had elegant, well-defined lines, as if she had trained in dance for a long time. Seo-eun gazed blankly at the woman, who was pressing her body against Tae-han as if they were lovers.

“You know you have to pick, right? I can never tell with men’s stuff.”

Suddenly, Tae-han’s words, about someone he wanted to cheer on for a new beginning when he visited her shop, flashed through her mind. It seemed likely she was the owner of that freesia bouquet. As she quickly assessed the situation and vaguely guessed, Seo-eun realized that Tae-han’s gaze was still on her.

Dark, deep, black eyes that made it impossible to move. A gaze that felt like being ensnared. Just as she was about to naturally avert her eyes, the woman who had linked arms with Tae-han’s eyes widened.

“Aren’t you Joo Seo-eun?”

The woman quickly detached her arm and came right up to Seo-eun’s face.

“Don’t you remember me? Min-jung.”

She remembered. The top student in the dance department, whose grandfather was the former president of Hanlim Bank, whose father ran one of the top five law firms in Korea, and whose mother was a professor at an arts university.

The woman, who was taller than Seo-eun, pulled her chin back and pushed her face close to Seo-eun’s, smiling. Seeing her beautiful curved features and the deep dimple on her right cheek when she smiled, Seo-eun remembered clearly.

“Oh, I remember. Min-jung.”

“Oh my, wow, it’s so good to see you. How have you been? We lost touch after that. I often thought about you. So many kids wondered about you after you dropped out like that.”

Han Min-jung’s voice, as she cheerfully asked about her well-being, sounded delighted.

“You’re doing well, right? How many years has it been since we last met? Seven years? No, it’s eight years, girl.”

“Right. Good to see you too.”

Seo-eun forced a nonchalant smile and faced Min-jung.

“Shopping?”

“Yeah, buying a gift.”

“For a man?”

Min-jung looked around the men’s section where Seo-eun was standing and chuckled.

“Husband?”

“I’m not married yet.”

“Ah, choosing a gift for your boyfriend then?”

Seo-eun smiled awkwardly, finding it difficult to say “Father.” She hadn’t expected to meet a former university classmate here after dropping out, so she felt subtly nervous. Still, to cope with the situation as best as she could, she clasped her hands tightly, pretending nothing was wrong.

“Your leg seems okay now?”

Han Min-jung’s eyes, full of curiosity, quickly scanned Seo-eun. Seo-eun deliberately pulled her lips into a relaxed smile. She didn’t want to betray her discomfort.

“Of course. It’s perfectly fine now.”

“There was a lot of talk after you suddenly dropped out like that. Some said you’d never be able to use your leg again, others said you went abroad, but you seem to be living well. You’ve gained some weight, you look good.”

Han Min-jung smiled brightly with a face that nonchalantly stirred up trouble. Just a few steps behind, Ryu Tae-han was hearing everything. Unlike the friendly greeting a moment ago, his gaze was now serious.

Under the weighty gaze, Seo-eun suddenly felt a suffocating sensation, as if a stone had been placed on her chest. Was it because the air felt heavy? Or perhaps it was just her low mood. Just as she was wondering how to interpret his unceasing gaze, which seemed indifferent yet intrusive.

“Oh, right. Do you still keep in touch with Young-woong? He’s getting married soon.”

Seo-eun’s eyes shook violently at the sudden, explosive news. Seo-eun stared at Min-jung with a chillingly rigid face. Beneath her overly calm expression lay patience.

“No, not really.”

“Right. I don’t really know much about the other classmates. I’ll pass on the news when I see them.”

“No, it’s fine. I really have to go now.”

She maintained her composure until the very end, speaking clearly and politely.

“Okay. I have company too. It was good to see you. See you later.”

Min-jung waved lightly and returned to Tae-han.

“Oh, I’m tired. I must have overdone it yesterday. Are you okay, oppa?”

The murmuring voices of the man and woman drifted to Seo-eun’s ears, which were stiff with emptiness. Seo-eun stood rooted to the spot as if dead. It felt as though all the energy had suddenly drained from her fingertips. She was afraid that if she moved even a little, she would crumble and disappear. Just as she stood silently, the sales associate, who had finished wrapping the gift, approached her and checked her complexion.

“Customer? Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine.”

As soon as she received the item, she fled the store as if escaping.

How long had she been in the cool breeze? As her mind gradually cleared, she saw her own reflection, staring blankly, lost in thought, in the shop window.

Her face was a mess. It was as if she was encountering that time when she wandered in darkness. Seo-eun, reflected in the window, was infinitely small and pathetic. She hated the sight and tried to turn her head, but her gaze wouldn’t break away. Seo-eun’s eyes fluttered in confusion.

‘You’re finished now.’

Seo-eun, embalmed in the reflected glass, was being consumed. She knew she had to escape, but her body wouldn’t move as her mind willed it.

Just like that time, when no matter how hard she tried, she could never stand on her tiptoes again.

Even though it couldn’t be.

Even though it couldn’t be.