In the middle of all this, Mrs. Park sat in silence, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.
She sulked, her lips pressed tightly together, fingers gripping the edge of the table. She knew—painfully well—that once her husband had made a decision, there was nothing she could say to change it. His words were final in this family, and that realization only deepened her frustration.
Still, she couldn't stop herself completely.
With a stiff smile that barely hid her resentment, she added,
"I'm only agreeing… for my dear son, Tae-sung."
The words were sharp, deliberate.
Mrs. Kim's jaw tightened immediately. Anger flared in her eyes—but she swallowed it. She said nothing.
For her daughter's sake.
Across the table, Soo-bin's expression had grown heavy, her earlier relief replaced by quiet hurt. Her eyes were downcast, her hands folded too tightly in her lap.
Noticing this, Tae-won glanced at Tae-sung and gave him a small but urgent nod—an unspoken signal to step in, to say something, to fix what was breaking.
Tae-sung understood instantly.
He reached for the bottle, poured a drink carefully, and slid the glass toward Mr. Kim with both hands, his posture respectful.
Then he bowed his head slightly.
"Please," Tae-sung said, his voice sincere and steady, "give us your approval."
He lifted his gaze, meeting Mr. Kim's eyes without hesitation.
"I promise I will treat Soo-bin with respect."
Mr. Kim's face remained hard for a moment.
He studied Tae-sung quietly, weighing every word, every gesture. The room held its breath.
Then, suddenly, the tension broke.
Mr. Kim's expression softened into a smile.
It wasn't loud or dramatic—but it was real.
He picked up the glass, nodded once, and said calmly,
"Then… when can we set the marriage, Mr. Park?"
The words landed like a quiet but decisive end.
The direction was set.
Soo-bin finally let out a quiet breath she didn't even realize she had been holding.
Relief washed over her face, softening her features. The tightness in her chest eased, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. Around the table, smiles slowly spread—Mr. Kim nodded in satisfaction, Mr. Park looked pleased, Tae-sung's shoulders relaxed for the first time that evening, and even Tae-won leaned back slightly, the tension leaving his posture.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone—except Mrs. Park.
She sat stiffly, her expression dark and unreadable. She knew it clearly now—there was nothing she could do. The decision had been made, and no amount of sulking or sharp words would change it. That realization only deepened the bitterness she tried so hard to hide.
Soon, the conversation shifted naturally.
They began discussing marriage dates, auspicious days, small details about ceremonies and arrangements. Voices overlapped gently, the mood lighter than before. What had started as a tense meeting was slowly turning into something hopeful, even warm.
Then, just as the discussion flowed on, a server approached the table.
"Excuse me," he said politely, holding a phone in his hand. "Someone asked me to bring this inside."
The sudden interruption drew everyone's attention.
Mr. Kim looked at the phone for a second, then his eyes widened slightly.
"That's mine," he said, surprised.
Mrs. Kim glanced at him and shook her head.
"This man," she said with a small laugh. "He loses his phone and doesn't even realize it until now."
Soo-bin leaned forward curiously.
"Who gave it to you?" she asked the server.
"A man," the server replied. "He said it was left in a car."
Mrs. Kim's expression changed instantly.
Realization struck her.
She straightened and turned quickly toward Soo-bin.
"That must be your brother," she said urgently. "He must still be nearby."
She placed a firm hand on Soo-bin's arm, her grip urgent but gentle.
"Go quickly and fetch him—before he leaves."
Soo-bin didn't hesitate even for a second. She nodded immediately and stood up at once, the chair scraping softly against the floor as she rose. The relief that had settled in her heart moments ago now mixed with a quiet urgency, pushing her forward. She turned toward the exit, her steps quick but controlled, trying to keep her composure.
Behind her, Mrs. Kim spoke again, her voice steady but thoughtful.
"We should introduce our son as well, right?" she said. "Now that we're becoming one family."
The words stayed with Soo-bin as she walked.
She straightened her shoulders instinctively.
She didn't want anyone to think she was embarrassed of her own brother. Not now. Not ever. No matter how uncomfortable the situation had become earlier, Min-woo was still her family—someone she cared for deeply.
With that resolve firm in her heart, Soo-bin pushed open the restaurant doors.
The cool night air hit her face as she stepped outside. The parking area was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the pavement. She scanned the rows of cars anxiously.
Then she saw him.
Min-woo stood near his car, one hand on the door, as if preparing to leave. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable under the streetlight.
"Min-woo!" Soo-bin called out quickly.
Her voice sliced through the quiet space, echoing faintly across the parking lot. She hurried toward him, her heels clicking faster than she intended, the cool air brushing against her face. The yellow glow of the streetlights stretched their shadows across the pavement as the distance between them closed.
Min-woo stopped mid-motion.
He turned around slowly, clearly not expecting to be called back.
"Noona?" he said, his brows knitting together, confusion flickering across his face. His expression held a clear question mark—surprise mixed with uncertainty, as if he hadn't prepared himself for this moment.
Soo-bin came to a stop in front of him, her breath slightly uneven. She crossed her arms loosely, trying to hide the swirl of emotions rising in her chest. Her lips curved into a small sulk as she spoke.
"Are you really sure you don't want to meet your brother-in-law?" she asked, her tone light on the surface, but weighted with something deeper.
Min-woo shifted uncomfortably.
He looked away, his gaze dropping to the ground. The streetlight caught the edge of his profile, revealing the tension in his jaw, the hesitation written clearly across his face. He didn't answer right away, his silence speaking louder than words.
That was when Soo-bin felt irritation rise.
Her brows drew together, and her voice sharpened slightly, though the hurt beneath it was unmistakable.
"Did we ever say anything to you?" she asked again, her sulk now turning into quiet, wounded anger. "Why are you trying to turn your back on us?"
Her voice trembled at the end, not loud, not dramatic—just raw.
The words lingered in the air between them, heavy and aching, like something that had been waiting to be said for years. Soo-bin watched him closely, waiting for Min-woo to look up, to say something—anything.
But he didn't.
And in that silence, memories rushed back, sharp and unwanted.