“Tell them I’ll be stopping by Yeongdo Mountain.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
Director Jo, having absorbed Min A-ran’s words in a single sweep, rose to her feet. Behind her, an attendant hurried over and set a fresh glass of water before Min A-ran.
Min A-ran drained it in one go. Every time she thought of Seo-in, a swell of frustration rose in her chest.
He had her face — down to the last detail — and yet he couldn’t even manage half of what she was capable of.
Min A-ran had gotten pregnant with her firstborn, Park Beom-yeong, the very same day she met her husband Park Myeong-il.
Click.
Seo-in stepped into his room, slipped his hand into his trouser pocket as he walked, and pulled out the ring. He held it up and looked at it. It caught the light filtering in from the window and cast a soft, quiet gleam. He bent his knees and sat on the edge of the bed.
The image of Min A-ran, who would have been more delighted than anyone to see this ring, drifted before his eyes.
— Well done, Seo-in! What did I tell you? I knew he’d like you for certain! Whatever else you may lack, at least your looks take after me.
That was how pleased Min A-ran had been when Seo-in came home wearing the ring in the past.
— Now our Beom-yeong’s path will finally open up. Do you know how much I’ve been worrying all this time.
The Seo-in of that time hadn’t read deeply enough into those words. Hadn’t grasped that Min A-ran’s heart held room for only one person — her firstborn alpha, Park Beom-yeong. He had simply been elated, feeling as though he, who was always falling short, had finally managed to make his mother smile.
He had believed that if he married Kwon Gi-jeong, even he — perpetually inadequate as he was — would be able to receive his mother’s love. But no such thing had ever come to pass. Until the very last moment, the only one who received their mother’s attention and affection was Park Beom-yeong.
Not knowing any of that, Seo-in had followed every word his mother said, as though driven by nothing but a desperate hunger for love. Without even understanding what those words truly held.
Seo-in lay back on the bed and raised the ring high above him. The ceiling reflected behind it was familiar, yet somehow felt out of place. He had spent so many years in this family home, and his time with Kwon Gi-jeong had been a mere two years or so. Was the reason this place felt so uncomfortable now simply because he no longer had any intention of following his mother’s wishes?
Seo-in, who had opened his eyes in this very bed and experienced what had happened to him as something like a terrible nightmare, had spent a while in a daze of confusion. But now, with his vision sharpened and clear, he had no intention of repeating the same regrets.
Seo-in planned to leave this household. Through his marriage to Kwon Gi-jeong. That was why he had accepted the marriage without hesitation.
— Endure it for exactly two years. During the marriage, we’ll each do our best to fulfill our respective roles. And then we part cleanly.
The one who would benefit from this marriage wasn’t Seo-in — it was Park Beom-yeong. That was what Min A-ran wanted too. And for Kwon Gi-jeong, it was nothing but a loss of a marriage as well. So it was only natural that he had already made up his mind to end his marriage to Seo-in as swiftly as possible.
Seo-in tried to think about what he would want to do after his marriage to Kwon Gi-jeong came to an end.
“……Anything would be fine.”
It didn’t matter what shape it took.
From now on, Seo-in had no intention of being Park Beom-yeong’s stepping stone — of being the soil that fed his brother’s growth.
Early morning.
Seo-in finished buttoning up his dress shirt and reached for the necktie he had laid out.
Knock, knock.
Even as Seo-in turned around, the door opened without waiting for a response. The one who appeared, looking as though they had only just woken up — eyes still heavy with sleep — was Han Hae-yul. He swept the hair grazing his ear back with one hand.
“You’re heading out already?”
He was the omega who had married Seo-in’s older brother, Park Beom-yeong.
“I almost missed you.”
Now that Seo-in had returned to the past, Hae-yul had been living in this house for less than a year at this point. And yet, perhaps owing to his marriage to Beom-yeong, he was treated with considerably more care than Seo-in was.
“I can’t help it. Beom-yeong keeps asking me to check what happened.”
Han Hae-yul stepped closer, and as he did, spoke toward Seo-in, who was still looping the necktie around his neck without stopping.
“Are you really wearing that tie? …Honestly, do I have to deal with things like this too? You take so much effort, you know. Not that one — why not wear that one over there?”
Hae-yul reached out and pointed toward a spot in the room. His fingertips, moving as though extending some grand favor, landed on a necktie with a prominent diagonal pattern. That tie was something Hae-yul himself had bought while out shopping.
“Save that sort of thing for my brother.”
In the past, Seo-in would have taken it as a warm gesture born from a genuine desire to grow closer, and he’d have switched ties without much thought.
But not now — not after coming to understand that it hadn’t stemmed from any concern for Seo-in, but from a desire to put on display, in whatever way possible, just how good a person Hae-yul was. He even found himself wondering whether Hae-yul genuinely thought that tie suited Seo-in, or whether it was something else entirely.
Seo-in knotted the tie he had already taken out and picked up his suit jacket. He slid both arms through it. Hae-yul angled his body to one side, crossed his arms, and opened his mouth as though blocking the way out.
“Fine. The tie is your call. But at least tell me how things went with Executive Director Kwon yesterday. Beom-yeong said to call him.”
Park Beom-yeong hadn’t come home the night before. It seemed he had delegated this to Hae-yul on that account.
“I wonder why everyone is so invested in my marriage……”
There had been a time in the past when Seo-in had taken all of this as boundless interest and affection directed at him. But now the ulterior motives were far too transparent. Not a single one of them cared what Seo-in actually thought.
“You’re asking because you don’t know? It’s because you’re Beom-yeong’s little brother — that’s why I’m bothering with this. I don’t want to waste my energy this early in the morning.”
Seo-in walked past Hae-yul and headed for the door.
“If you’re that curious, you can call and ask yourself.”
“So it didn’t go well, did it? You could’ve just said that — why make it so long-winded. Exhausting.”
Hae-yul, who had been straining to listen to Seo-in’s retreating footsteps, muttered as though he’d just jolted fully awake.
“Are you taking out your frustration on me because things fell apart with Executive Director Kwon?”
But there was no answer coming back. In the end, Hae-yul pulled out his phone and held it to his ear. A brief connection tone rang out, then cut off.
“Where’s Beom-yeong?”
But the voice that came through on the other end of the line belonged to Secretary Kim Woo-seok.
“He’s in a meeting? At this hour?”
[He’s currently in a breakfast meeting.]
“Then why didn’t he come home last night?”
[The situation right now doesn’t allow for a long call.]
“Alright. Just tell him it looks like things didn’t go well for Seo-in. He’ll know what that means.”
Call ended, phone still in hand, Hae-yul turned his head. His gaze wandered over the decorations tucked between the nightstand, shelves, and gaps in the bookcase. Out of habit, Hae-yul reached out and picked up a picture frame. A family photo. It even showed a very young Seo-in cradled in the arms of his mother, Min A-ran.
“These aren’t children’s things — why does he still keep something like this.”
Beyond that, items collected and stacked up from childhood filled every corner, and wherever his eyes landed, they looked like nothing more than clutter.
Horim Tower. 17th Floor, Strategic Planning Division.
“You’re here, sir.”
Jang Yu-hwan looked up brightly and greeted Seo-in as he entered the office. Kim Dong-un, who had been glancing at his phone a moment behind, also rose from his seat and was just about to say something to Seo-in as he approached——
“Kim Dong-un, go straight to HR.”
Seo-in’s tone was firm.
“Pardon?”
Kim Dong-un looked at Seo-in with wide eyes, as though questioning his own ears. But Seo-in was already walking toward his desk without any indication that he intended to explain himself further.
On the desk — neatly organized in a way that reflected his character — sat a nameplate that read: Park Seo-in, Chief Operations Manager.
