“Either way, home is just a place I sleep — so there’s nothing for you to be uncomfortable about.”
If that was the case, was there even any point in living together before the wedding?
The question surfaced in his mind, but since it was something the elders wanted, it wasn’t going to change.
There was no reason to spend time and energy on something he couldn’t alter on his own — and as Yuhan had said, if there were no points of friction, there would be no stress, so there was no need to oppose it to the death.
“Then let’s do that. Would a month or two before the date be fine?”
“Yes. I have an apartment I own — the location and size should be just right. If you let me know the date, I’ll have everything arranged in time.”
His flat, toneless way of speaking was even more stiff than the professor who had reviewed his thesis.
To think I have to spend my whole life with someone like this — he wondered if he should have given it a little more thought.
“Since we’ve both said what we needed to, shall we eat? I’m getting hungry.”
He had eaten nothing but a handful of nuts and water during the more than ten-hour flight, so he genuinely was hungry.
The dongchimi set on his side of the table was just seconds away from losing the thin sheet of ice floating on its surface.
Yuhan said “it should be good” and encouraged him to try it first.
Jinwoo didn’t refuse.
It felt less like sitting across from a blind date and more like meeting with the head of a business partner.
Even so, the dongchimi he hadn’t had in so long was exactly the kind of taste he liked.
Pleasantly sweet and tangy — his appetite surged as though he’d never been without one.
Neither of them said a word throughout the meal.
Since neither had any hand in the wedding preparations, there was no particular need for conversation — but the atmosphere was truly awkward and stiff.
The food was delicious, but only after finishing did he start to worry about whether it might sit badly.
“Someone will be coming to your home soon.”
“What kind of person?”
“A wedding ring specialist. Since it’s a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, it would be better for you to choose the design.”
Whether to call this consideration or simply offloading a bothersome task onto him — he wasn’t sure.
“Since you majored in fine arts, I imagine you have better taste than I do.”
That part might have been sincere.
It was a loveless marriage, but underneath it all, there was a detectable layer of consideration for the other person.
It seemed like a habit of his.
“Alright, then. I’ll choose.”
With that, the meeting finally came to an end.
In front of the restaurant, someone sent from home was waiting.
Jinwoo exchanged nothing more than the bare minimum of courteous farewells with Yuhan, then got into the car.
He’d thought it hadn’t been that difficult of an occasion — and yet the moment he was finally alone, a wave of relief washed over him.
He sank deeply into the seat.
He drifted off briefly and woke to find he had already arrived home.
It was on the outskirts away from the city center, so it would have taken at least an hour — it seemed he had fallen asleep like someone who had simply blacked out.
Coming home after so long, he felt an inexplicable flutter of excitement just from stepping into the garden.
“My son!”
His mother came running out before he could even open the front door, and a smile rose to his lips the moment he was pulled into her arms.
She was the kind of person who worried endlessly over her son living far away, and she had sometimes made the long journey to visit him herself.
So this level of enthusiasm now wasn’t strictly necessary — but regardless of frequency, she was simply glad her son was home.
Jinwoo didn’t push her away.
He let himself receive all her worry in full.
“You’re not skipping meals because you have no appetite, are you? You look like you’ve lost even more weight since I last saw you.”
“No, I’m not. I’m coming back right now from eating a good, filling meal.”
“Oh, really?”
Well — he hadn’t managed to eat anything properly on the flight over.
But he had just had a full meal, so it wasn’t entirely a lie.
Telling himself it was a harmless untruth for his mother’s sake, he settled into the living room sofa.
“That aside — why didn’t you give me any information this time? You have no idea how exhausting it was to feel my way through a conversation.”
“What? You didn’t get the email?”
“The email?”
Jinwoo thought of his work email address.
He mostly used it for academic correspondence, but the information for his previous blind dates had also been sent there.
No matter how much he tried to recall, he had no memory of receiving any such email this time.
“When did you send it?”
“The day after I called you, I think.”
There was no way he could have missed it then.
He would have to check and see what had happened.
“Did you really go there without even knowing the other person’s name?”
“…Yes.”
If Yuhan hadn’t introduced himself, he would have spent two hours referring to him as “you over there.”
Jinwoo let out a long, deep sigh and blinked slowly.
When he checked his inbox later than he should have, the information about Yuhan was there, just as his mother had said.
The format and content were no different from the previous ones.
If he had known in advance, he would have gone over it on the plane even while exhausted — it was clearly his own mistake.
A few words stood out to him distinctively.
As he had expected, the words dominant alpha were positioned prominently at the top, clearly visible.
In this world, one’s secondary sex was sometimes valued even above material wealth — so it was a natural placement.
The next thing he read was “first in line for succession.”
“You mentioned he has a younger brother who’s an alpha — what’s that about?”
Being the eldest son, being first in line was to be expected — but if he needed the backing of a marriage to shore up his position, it seemed his standing wasn’t entirely secure.
“Ah… right, that was the case, wasn’t it.”
“……?”
Unsatisfied with the vague response, Jinwoo looked over at his mother.
She smiled awkwardly and dodged the question with a “I’m not really sure.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t know — it was clearly avoidance.
Since he hadn’t asked out of any real desire to dig into the background of a brother whose name he didn’t even know, Jinwoo simply figured there must be some circumstances behind it and let it go.
There could be complications in a relationship, or perhaps there had been disputes during asset distribution.
This world might look glamorous from the outside, but on the inside it was a set of gears barely turning on rusted teeth.
“So — what do you think?”
It was obvious she was trying to redirect the conversation, but Jinwoo chose to play along.
“He’s good-looking, he’s gentlemanly, and I like that he doesn’t waste words.”
“Really? He’s the best one so far, isn’t he?”
“By far. There’s no comparison to the ones who flew all the way out to the States before.”
Even accounting for the considerable effort of those who had crossed an ocean to come to him, Yuhan was far better.
Perhaps the fact that he had already made up his mind made it easier to speak so freely.
“I’ll marry him.”
“Oh my. Really? Are you sure that’s alright?”
“That’s exactly why you arranged the timing of this meeting the way you did, isn’t it? I’ve held out as long as I can, and with the family already dealing with the headache hyung caused — let’s just do it.”
That level of sarcasm was the privilege of the youngest.
Weren’t the ones raised with endless indulgence supposed to be the ones who never listened and caused the most trouble?
He, at least, had grown up without causing a single incident — surely they’d let it slide.
Sure enough, his mother neither got angry nor pressed him.
“That’s right. You thought it through well. You won’t find a better match.”
Even at a glance, it was genuinely puzzling that someone like him had remained unmarried this long.
His family background was impeccable — that went without saying — and then there were his degrees and his current position on top of that.
He had no idea how remarkable the younger brother was, but once a marriage took place, the succession issue would likely resolve itself in one clean stroke.
Jinwoo was struck anew by just how tightly Korea still clung to the illusion of an ordinary family.
The second sex — more significant than male or female.
Alpha with omega, dominant with dominant.
The rigid barriers hadn’t disappeared; if anything, they had grown harder.
Jinwoo had been born a dominant omega and had grown up hearing, from childhood, that he would marry a dominant alpha.
No other option had ever existed.
The reality of going through blind dates with dominant alphas as a matter of course, and then being married off to a dominant alpha under the guise of choice, wasn’t all that shocking — that’s what it came down to.
“Can I invite friends to the wedding?”
“Of course. Let your mother know who they are too.”
The friends he had left in Korea could be counted on one hand, and his mother knew them well enough — but Jinwoo nodded obediently all the same.
His room on the second floor was still clean.
Even when he hadn’t been living there, someone had been keeping it tidy with regular cleanings.
Jinwoo looked around the room — his luggage, sent ahead of him, had already been unpacked and put away — and reread the email.
“They even included this kind of thing.”
Scrolling down, there was a list of traits and advantages pertaining to him as a dominant alpha.
If he had been an ordinary alpha found anywhere, that page might have served as a real selling point.
For that reason, he had been about to skim past it without reading — but something suddenly reminded him of what he had learned in a sex education class during his school days, and Jinwoo opened a search window.
After completing an age verification, the content that unfolded was a little different from what he remembered.
More explicit. More graphic.
Among it all, one particular word caught his eye.
