Chapter 5
Ahan calmly reached across the table and set upright the cup that had tipped over toward Yeoreul.
His gaze lifted from the cup once more. Even as everyone’s attention converged on him, his eyes never left Yeoreul’s bloodless face.
“I’m fine.”
Startled by Ahan’s words, Yeoreul quickly shook her head.
“I was just spacing out.”
As if to say she should have avoided something so obvious had she been paying attention, Taeha clicked his tongue at his daughter.
“You’re an adult now…”
Even though Ahan had been the one to spill the water, Taeha frowned in displeasure and scolded Yeoreul instead.
Unable to completely hide the fear welling inside her, Yeoreul shrank into herself.
Exactly as Ahan had expected.
“It must feel unpleasant. Go clean yourself up.”
Seook smoothly settled the disturbance before it could grow.
“Ah… yes.”
Leaning lazily against the back of his chair, Ahan silently watched Yeoreul rise to her feet. She quietly closed the door behind her and left the room.
For a long while, Ahan remained motionless, staring at the closed door.
Only after the faint sound of her footsteps disappeared down the hallway did he finally turn his gaze forward again.
The sliding door opened once more as a staff member entered, clearing away the mess and refilling the glasses with fresh water.
As soon as the door shut, the conversation resumed as though nothing had happened.
One eyebrow twitched.
After taking a sip of water, Ahan lowered the glass—but he didn’t let go.
Like emotions he couldn’t quite release, his fingers tightened around the cup. The veins and knuckles on the back of his hand stood out sharply beneath taut skin.
He couldn’t put a name to what he was feeling.
Only that hot blood coursed through his veins.
He searched his thoughts again, trying to find what exactly had left him with this irritating, unsatisfied thirst.
They touched her.
Ahan smiled without expression.
Something that belongs to me.
The moment he reached that conclusion, his emotions suddenly became astonishingly easy to understand.
As though the answer had solved everything, his grip relaxed, and he quietly released the glass.
Without changing the direction of his gaze, he listened.
Taeha, who had been waiting for an opening, was enthusiastically talking about his business.
He launched into a lengthy explanation about the new machinery he’d recently imported from overseas.
“So now I’m considering expanding the factory and bringing in even more equipment.”
As if casually leaking inside information, Taeha glanced meaningfully toward Ahan.
Neither agreeing nor disagreeing, Ahan merely curled the corner of his lips into a polite smile.
The kind of smile that seemed to say he had complete faith in President Taejung Textile’s remarkable business judgment.
That was all.
Yet Taeha convinced himself they shared the same ambitions.
His heart suddenly pounded with greed.
I have to expand the company, even if I have to overextend myself.
Today’s debt will become tomorrow’s investment.
After wiping the water from her clothes, Yeoreul let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Old memories had resurfaced, and instinctive fear had taken hold before she could stop it.
Simply sitting beside her father was mentally exhausting.
She had wanted desperately to escape that table, so perhaps the accident had happened at the perfect time.
She despised herself.
Even after becoming an adult, she still couldn’t escape the trauma her father had left behind.
And worse—
The realization that she would forever remain tied to him simply because they shared the same blood filled her with a fresh sense of despair.
More than that…
“My family is my grandmother…”
The thought that she’d left her grandmother behind weighed heavily on her heart.
She couldn’t even say those words aloud.
She hated herself for shrinking back without speaking.
The helplessness made her feel pitiful.
She wanted to stay in the restroom just a little longer.
The emptiness inside her somehow turned into hunger.
“…I want Grandma’s cooking.”
Bracing herself against the sink while waiting for her trembling heart to settle, Yeoreul suddenly blinked.
Have I been in here too long?
She hurriedly took a deep breath before exhaling.
Realizing she’d probably been gone far too long, she quickly left the restroom.
Looking down as she walked, a pair of polished black dress shoes entered the edge of her vision.
She immediately looked up.
Ahan was standing against the wall as though he had been waiting for her.
Why is he here…?
He simply stood there.
Nothing about him suggested he’d been interrupted by urgent business.
Then—
He turned his head.
Before Yeoreul could gather her thoughts, his long strides had already closed the distance between them.
He stopped right in front of her.
“It dried quickly. I’m really okay.”
Thinking he’d come to apologize, she hurriedly explained.
“Um… it didn’t stain either.”
She awkwardly added another reassurance.
Ahan remained silent.
He simply looked at her.
His expressionless face looked strangely unreadable.
“I know.”
His voice was low and even.
His eyes remained calm.
“It was only water.”
He spoke quietly.
His detached gaze never wavered.
Unable to understand the meaning behind those simple words, Yeoreul could only stare blankly.
It almost looked as though Ahan wanted to say something more.
Instead, he turned around and headed back toward the room.
It felt like he’d come only to confirm something.
What that something was—
Even he seemed unaware.
After standing frozen for a moment, Yeoreul hurried after him.
The door slid open.
After taking one deep breath, Yeoreul returned to her seat.
Immediately, Taeha lightly rebuked her for disappearing for so long.
The way she shrank beneath her father’s criticism resembled nothing more than a tiny mouse trapped before a cat.
Wearing a smile that looked as though it might become tears at any moment, Yeoreul awkwardly joined the conversation.
Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere.
When will this end?
I can’t breathe.
Would it be strange if I went to the restroom again?
I want to go home.
Grandma…
Then—
Something lightly nudged the tips of her shoes beneath the table.
Yeoreul flinched and looked toward Ahan.
His unwavering gaze met hers directly.
Beneath his long eyelashes, his hazel-green eyes were impossibly deep.
Without breaking eye contact…
Ahan’s polished shoes gently enclosed both of hers.
Firm warmth came from either side of her feet.
For an instant she wondered if he was teasing her.
But no.
That wasn’t it.
Instead…
It felt as though he’d noticed how tense she was.
As though he was trying, in his own quiet way, to steady her anxiety.
While casual conversation continued around them like meaningless background noise…
The simple contact beneath the table brought her an inexplicable sense of security.
As her attention focused entirely on that tiny point of contact, the fear inside her slowly subsided.
A strange warmth tickled somewhere around her heart.
Even so…
Yeoreul kept both feet perfectly still.
She made no attempt to escape the little enclosure Ahan had quietly built around them.
It was…
A willing captivity.
Silence filled the car.
A silence created by the two of them.
Yeoreul’s face remained pale, like that of an unhappy child.
Her neatly cut hair partially concealed her small face.
Ahan lowered the car window.
Cool wind drifted inside.
The gloomy haze clouding her thoughts gradually lifted.
Only then did Yeoreul regain her senses and instinctively turn toward him.
Ahan looked back.
A few strands of his neatly combed hair had fallen across his forehead.
Unable to endure the steadily lengthening eye contact, Yeoreul quietly looked away.
She turned toward the window.
Then looked again.
Her eyes widened.
Wait… this is…
The scenery outside was familiar.
It was her neighborhood.
She turned back to Ahan in surprise.
As far as he knew, her father’s house should have been considered her family home.
Ahan calmly met her gaze.
“We should greet her.”
Emotion flooded Yeoreul’s eyes.
He knew.
She was so grateful she nearly cried.
Feelings of loneliness, guilt, and concern for her grandmother all welled together until her heart ached.
Theirs was a marriage that wouldn’t have seemed strange even without a formal meeting between both families.
And yet…
Ahan hadn’t forgotten her grandmother.
“Thank you.”
Her heart was too full to express anything beyond those simple words.
Ahan, however, merely looked puzzled.
Why thank me?
It was an honest question.
He hadn’t thought deeply about it.
It simply seemed natural.
To greet the family of the woman who would become his wife.
Then…
Yeoreul smiled.
Her walnut-colored eyes curved gently beneath long eyelashes.
Ahan silently watched her.
They were eyes he liked.
The engine shut off in front of a familiar house.
The black sedan carrying the two of them came to a stop before an old single-story home.
Ahan stepped out first.
Yeoreul quickly followed.
Beside the aging house stood a large walnut tree.
Small green leaves fluttered among clusters of round, unripe walnuts.
The doorbell rang.
The front gate opened, revealing a tiny grandmother who seemed even smaller than Yeoreul herself.
“Grandma.”
“Oh my goodness. My precious girl is here.”
Even though she’d been given money by Yeoreul’s father, her grandmother had never spent it on herself, always wearing old, worn clothes.
But today…
She wore what she considered her finest new outfit.
She didn’t even tell me…
Ahan politely greeted her.
Smiling warmly, the elderly woman welcomed him inside, walking with an obvious limp as she led them through the iron gate.
Something felt different.
Meeting Yeoreul’s grandmother felt nothing like meeting her parents.
His calm eyes slowly wandered around the modest house with its tiny front yard.
“Have you eaten? Tell me if you’re hungry.”
“No, Grandma. We already ate plenty.”
“If you’re still hungry, just say so. It won’t take long to make something.”
Ahan turned toward her.
This…
This felt like a real family.
Perhaps that was why a gentle smile naturally appeared on his face.
“We’ve already eaten.”
“Then at least have some tea before you go.”
He removed his shoes at the entrance and stepped inside.
The home was immaculately tidy.
Vinyl flooring covered the entire house.
Ahan handed over the gifts and flower basket he had brought.
The grandmother smiled brightly in gratitude.
Soon afterward, she served rice cakes and walnuts as snacks.
Holding a teacup, Ahan quietly drank his tea.
As he set the cup down, the tea leaves slowly settled to the bottom.
Sitting beside him, Yeoreul secretly watched him.
She had wondered whether he and her quiet, soft-spoken grandmother would have anything to talk about.
Instead…
Ahan naturally guided the conversation with gentle ease.
Is this really the same person?
He’s actually good at talking when he’s with people he knows…
He brought up the walnut tree in the yard, effortlessly encouraging her grandmother to tell its story.
He possessed the rare ability to erase awkwardness with ease.
When Yeoreul had been very young, her grandmother, with the help of neighbors, had planted the walnut sapling herself.
Many years later…
After enduring countless seasons…
The tree had finally begun bearing fruit.
Peeling away the green outer husk revealed the hard walnut shell beneath.
Breaking it open with a small hammer uncovered the delicate kernel inside.
Her childhood friends had always found it fascinating.
For Yeoreul, however, it had simply been part of everyday life.
Her grandmother smiled as she looked at the walnuts.
“They were harvested last autumn. These are the very last of this year’s walnuts.”
Ahan quietly stared at one resting in his palm for quite some time.
“…Do you not like walnuts?”
Making sure her grandmother couldn’t hear, Yeoreul whispered the question with a worried expression.
