The restaurant was buzzing—a chorus of conversations, clinking glasses, and the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling Korean barbeque. One of our family-owned places. I'd eaten here a hundred times, but tonight, everything felt unfamiliar.
Bo-ra sat across from me at the long table, surrounded by her parents and my grandfather. They were all smiles, thrilled about the engagement and the business merger it symbolized. Meanwhile, Bo-ra and I exchanged stiff smiles and glances that said, "Can we get out of this already?"
We both knew the truth: this wasn't love. It was a transaction—a decades-old agreement between our families to merge power and money. I'd only agreed because of Grandfather. After my parents walked away from the business world and each other, he never recovered from the disappointment. I wasn't ready to be another failure in his eyes.
"How am I supposed to fake happiness?" I thought, staring at Bo-ra. Her eyes, usually full of mischief, looked dim—like someone had switched off the lights inside her.
"It's all about money, isn't it?" I muttered, watching our parents clink glasses over our futures.
Bo-ra and I? We were like oil and water. We didn't mix. Her cold stare practically dared me to say something.
"Is she seriously judging me?" I wondered, feeling her eyes sweep me from head to toe. "There are women who would kill to be in her shoes."
I looked at her again. "What is she even thinking? Probably planning my slow demise."
The air between us grew thick with tension while the table filled with noise and laughter.
"I'm starving," I muttered, grabbing a plate. "I've been buried under paperwork all day."
Just as I took a sip of wine, a sharp pain shot through my foot. She'd kicked me. Hard. I glanced down and caught her foot retreating. Her smug little smirk said it all.
"Seriously?" I glared. "She's really doing this now?"
She met my gaze, eyes glinting with mischief.
"This woman is chaos in heels," I thought, shaking my head.
Across the table, our fathers leaned in with beaming faces.
"I can't wait for our companies to unite," Grandfather said. "We'll finally become one family, Mr. Sung."
"A match made in heaven," Mr. Sung replied, lifting his glass.
Bo-ra's mother joined in. "Let's toast to our children and their future together."
The clinking of glasses echoed around us.
I couldn't take it anymore. The room felt smaller with every second. I slipped away into the night.
The city lights blinked overhead. I wandered aimlessly until I reached a nearby playground. It was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. I sat on a swing, letting the cool breeze calm me.
Then I heard it—a soft giggle. I looked up.
Bo-ra.
She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a bitter smile playing on her lips.
"You following me now?" I asked.
"Let's end this," she said without warning.
I stared. "Excuse me?"
"The engagement," she said. "Let's break it off. This is pointless. We don't love each other, and I can't fake it."
I stayed silent.
"You don't even like me, Yul. And newsflash, I don't like you either."
Ouch. Still, she wasn't wrong.
"You're not my type," she added. "You're cold, always brooding. You never smile unless it's for a photo op. How is that husband material?"
I finally spoke. "I never wanted to marry you either."
Her eyebrows rose.
"I don't believe in love. Or marriage," I continued. "Not after what I saw between my parents. They tore each other apart and left me in the middle of it. Marriage is a lie people tell themselves."
"Then why agree to this?" she asked, incredulous.
"Because I had to," I said. "There's more at stake than just my emotions."
"Like what?"
I inhaled deeply. "My aunt has been trying to seize control of the company. My grandfather's health is fading, and he needs this merger to stabilize things. If I marry you, I inherit everything. That's the only way I can protect the company—from her."
Bo-ra blinked. Her expression didn't soften.
"I don't care," she said.
That stunned me.
"I don't care about your reasons, Yul," she went on. "I want to marry someone I love—someone who loves me back. Not someone with a tragic backstory and a business plan."
"Bo-ra—"
"No," she interrupted. "You can keep pretending that this is noble or necessary, but it's not. It's cruel. To me. To yourself. Why should we be miserable for the sake of people who never asked us what we want?"
I looked away.
"I'm sorry about your family," she said, her voice softer. "But I refuse to chain my life to someone who sees love as a weakness."
Then she turned. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked away, her figure fading into the night.
I didn't stop her.
I couldn't.
The swing creaked beneath me as I sat in silence, her words echoing in my mind.
Maybe she was right.
But I had no choice.
And that made all the difference.
To be continued.