As the car door shut behind him and the wide stretch of farmland slipped out of view, Hyun-wook released a slow, controlled breath—one he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Beside him, Secretary Kwon flipped through a stack of drafted contracts, leaving Hyun-wook with a rare moment of quiet.
A quiet that made it impossible to ignore the thoughts he'd been pushing aside.
Seo-in.
The woman he was supposedly destined to build a future with.
He leaned back in the leather seat, fingers slipping up to loosen his tie as the countryside blurred into streaks of muted green and brown. He had only seen one photograph of her—the formal portrait his mother had shown him with too much pride and expectation in her smile.
He had made no effort to reach out.
Not a text. Not even a greeting.
Not because he disliked her.
Not because she was lacking in any way.
But because he hadn't chosen this.
Another decision made for him.
Another responsibility disguised as family duty—something he was expected to accept without question, the same way he accepted every weight placed on his shoulders.
He wasn't heartless.
He wasn't indifferent.
He simply didn't want to drag someone into a life that didn't belong to them either—not when he himself barely had room to breathe in it.
Secretary Kwon glanced up. "You seem tired, sir."
Hyun-wook offered him a faint, polished smile—the kind designed to put others at ease without revealing anything real.
"It's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
His gaze drifted toward his phone, where Seo-in's name sat neatly tucked in his contacts. Untouched. Waiting. A silent symbol of a future already being arranged for them both—whether they wanted it or not.
What if she resented him for this?
What if she was being pressured, just like he was?
What if she was already hoping he would be the one to end it?
A strange ache tugged at his chest at the thought—unexpected, quiet, almost like guilt.
He didn't want to be the cause of someone else's unhappiness.
He didn't want to disappoint his family either.
And caught between those two expectations, he found himself unable to move in either direction.
Secretary Kwon's voice broke the silence softly.
"Will you contact her someday? Before the families arrange a meeting?"
Hyun-wook looked out the window, watching the city skyline rise in the distance.
His jaw tightened, barely noticeable.
"I don't know," he said finally. His voice was calm, but layered with something heavier. "I don't even know what she thinks about all of this."
He hesitated, then added quietly:
"Commitment isn't something I can give lightly. And forcing it won't make it real."
There was no bitterness in his tone—only honesty. A soft, reluctant truth from a man raised to hide every vulnerability behind flawless composure.
As the car crossed into the city, bright lights reflecting against the glass, Hyun-wook straightened his posture. His expression settled back into the familiar, careful calm the world recognized.
A courteous gentleman.
A capable heir.
A dutiful son.
But beneath that well-crafted exterior, a quiet thought remained—steady, persistent, and painfully sincere:
He didn't want to be the reason someone lived a life they never chose.
Not Seo-in.
Not anyone.
***
Saturday morning, Luca grinned mischievously as he yanked the blanket off Seo-in in one swift, unapologetic motion. She was still sprawled comfortably on their shared bed, limbs loose and tangled in the sheets like she had become part of them overnight. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains and spilled across her skin, bright enough to make her squint as the sudden chill settled around her.
"Hey, wake up!"
Seo-in groaned, curling into herself like a startled cat. One hand reached out blindly, trying to reclaim the warmth he had stolen. She cracked one eye open and fixed him with the half-hearted glare of someone who had desperately wanted ten more minutes of sleep. Luca stood beside the bed, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself—like an overexcited golden retriever who had discovered a new toy.
"Too early…" she mumbled, her voice thick and velvety with sleep. She made another sluggish attempt to grab the blanket back, but Luca only lifted it farther from reach, his grin widening at her suffering.
"Nope! We've got plans," he declared, and tossed a pillow directly at her face when she didn't move. The pillow bounced off her cheek, earning him an unimpressed shove. "Come on, sleepyhead—your coffee is already waiting."
Despite her morning protests, the corner of her lips lifted at the sight of his childish enthusiasm. "...You're an early-bird maniac," she muttered as she finally pushed herself upright, fingers rubbing circles under her puffy eyes. "And coffee alone won't magically make me functional at this hour."
Luca snorted and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, warm and annoyingly sweet. "Maybe not, but it's a start." He took her hand and tugged gently. "Come on. I'll make it worth your while."
After washing up, they settled into a small breakfast in the kitchen—a quiet, sun-drenched moment that gradually coaxed Seo-in back into consciousness. Sunlight caught the steam curling from their mugs, and the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the soft hum of the refrigerator. It was the kind of domestic calm neither of them got often, and it softened the edges of her morning mood.
When she finally took a sip, warmth spread through her chest, steadying her.
"So," she said, peering at him over the rim of her mug, "where exactly are you dragging me today?"
Luca leaned back against the counter, looking far too proud of himself for someone who should still be recovering from last night's misery.
"It's a surprise."
Seo-in rolled her eyes. "Of course it is."
She set the mug down with a dramatic thud. "Fine. But if this 'surprise' involves hiking, climbing, running, or anything that counts as exercise before noon, I'm divorcing you."
Luca burst into laughter—loud, bright, and far too full of energy for the hour. He reached out to ruffle her hair, leaving it sticking up in chaotic tufts. "Relax. I'm not evil."
He paused, drawing out the suspense because he knew it annoyed her. Then, with a smug little smile: "We're going to the movies."
Seo-in blinked slowly. "That's your grand plan?"
"Yep," he said with zero shame. "Figured we deserved something normal. Popcorn, bad rom-coms, and you pretending you're not crying when the protagonist's dog inevitably dies."
His tone was light and teasing, but there was a softness beneath it—a quiet invitation for comfort after the exhausting week they'd barely crawled through.
And honestly? Mindless cinema sounded perfect.
Seo-in tried for another eye-roll, but her lips betrayed her with a growing smile. "You're ridiculous," she said, nudging his elbow.
"And yet," Luca replied smugly as he intertwined their fingers, "you still chose to date me."
"Keyword: allegedly," she shot back playfully—though her eyes lingered on their hands, acknowledging the tenderness he didn't voice out loud.
"Alright," she sighed, pushing back her chair. "But you're buying the overpriced popcorn. And if I cry at that stupid dog scene, you're not allowed to say anything."
Luca leaned in to press a quick kiss to her temple before grabbing their coats.
"Deal."