“Marriage…?”

Ji-an repeated the word back to him, almost as if needing to confirm what she’d just heard.

Had she misheard him? She was certain he’d just said marriage.

To her question, Se-hyeon gave a slight nod.

“That’s right. Marriage.”

As if to erase any doubt, he deliberately repeated the very word that had shaken her.

“The reason I asked to meet you today, Miss Yoo Ji-an, is to propose marriage.”

He’d said it so casually—so easily—that maybe that was why it felt so unreal.

As if he were simply offering a polite greeting to an acquaintance.

— “This is the Executive Office of W Group. Is this Miss Yoo Ji-an?”
—”The Executive Director wishes to meet with you. Please make some time for him.”

It hadn’t been a request. It had been more like a notification.

When his secretary first contacted her, she had no idea what it was regarding.

It was only when she arrived and saw him in person that she began to piece things together.

There was no reason for the W Group to contact her.

There was no business involving her.

The W Group.

She remembered only one thing:

The man her father had saved on the day he died — the man pulled from the wreckage — was Woo Seung-beom’s eldest son.

That was her only connection to him.

Even that felt like it belonged to a distant, forgotten past.

But now he was talking about marriage.

Was he actually using the word she thought he was?

It made so little sense that she had to confirm it again. Even after hearing it a second time, however, she still couldn’t grasp what was happening.

‘Marriage?’

Was he really using the word she thought he was?

Even after asking him again just moments ago, Ji-an still couldn’t fully wrap her head around what was happening.

“Ah… um.”

Her eyes trembled slightly in confusion. Words fumbled on her lips, her mouth parting in stunned hesitation.

Then, Se-hyeon calmly placed a document envelope on the table between them.

“A marriage contract.”

Ji-an stared at the yellow envelope in silence, as if trying to process each step of what was unfolding before her.

“Marriage… as in… you and me…”

“Yes. I want you to be my wife.”

Only after asking several times did the meaning of his words finally settle into her mind. And yet—even after understanding what he was saying—she couldn’t begin to guess why.

“I… I don’t understand why you’re saying this to me.”

Her voice trembled in keeping with her visibly shaken expression.

In contrast, Se-hyeon remained composed as he watched her, his calm demeanour suggesting he knew the outcome.

He was confident — he was certain she wouldn’t refuse.

His posture was firm, his gaze steady, and there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he answered her.

“I need to get married. And I want to choose my own wife. I happened to think of you, Miss Yoo Ji-an.”

Staring straight into her bewildered eyes, Se-hyeon began listing his reasons without hesitation.

“I heard that things have been difficult since your father passed away. I also heard that you’re still on leave because of your younger brother’s and grandmother’s hospital bills.”

“……”

“I believe I bear some moral responsibility for the situation you’re in.”

‘Moral responsibility.’
As if that could justify a marriage proposal like this.

The more she listened, the more absurd it sounded. Then Se-hyeon gestured toward the envelope with a slight nod of his chin.

“You’ll find the terms more than satisfactory. Go ahead and take a look.”

With a trembling hand, Ji-an reached out and carefully pulled the papers from the envelope.

He really hadn’t been exaggerating. There it was, written in bold at the top of the first page of the marriage contract.

Only now was the reality beginning to sink in.

The document was filled with complicated, unfamiliar legal terms. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the large-font labels: Party A and Party B.

The weight of those words, and how cold and binding they felt, froze her in place.

She couldn’t bring herself to turn the page, her hands hovering as if the document might burn her.

“Take your time.”

Se-hyeon said softly, as if addressing someone in a daze. ‘It’s an important matter.’

Ji-an slowly lifted her gaze. This was their fourth meeting, and yet they had never sat this close before.

With only a small café table between them, Se-hyeon studied her face.

They had first met when she was fifteen. Eight years had passed since then. And yet, that youthful look still lingered.

She was at an age when most women enjoyed dressing up, yet she wasn’t wearing any lipstick.

Her bare, unadorned skin, completely free of make-up, had an effortless radiance that caught the eye.

Up close, the pink knit jumper she was wearing looked faded, having lost its colour over time.

The stretched neckline revealed the delicate curve of her neck, her slender shoulders, and the elegant line of her collarbone.

Yet despite the worn jumper, it was her clear, quietly lovely face that he could not take his eyes off.

When Se-hyeon nodded slightly, Ji-an lowered her gaze once more to the contract.

“Still, we share a connection.”

What could be more extraordinary than this?

After all, it was her father who had risked his life to save him.

In fact, it felt as if their bond had been forged in a previous lifetime — an entanglement deep enough to be called fate.

“You need someone like me, and I need someone like you.”

Se-hyeon’s voice flowed calmly as he watched the top of her small head bend over the contract.

“You’ll find the details in the document. If there’s anything you’d like to request, feel free to say so. If it’s within reason, I’m open to adjusting terms.”

He picked up the cup in front of him and took a sip—only to grimace slightly as the bitter taste of cheap coffee hit his tongue.

‘What kind of beans did they use?’

It was all burnt flavor and nothing else. He lowered the cup back to the table with a faint frown.

“One condition, though, you can add terms, but nothing already written can be taken out. Everything in there is something I absolutely need.”

‘I probably won’t be able to compromise on that.’

Murmuring more to himself than to her, Se-hyeon rested the cup down and spoke again, this time with quiet certainty:

“I’ll give you a life completely different from the one you have now.”

At that, Ji-an slowly lifted her head—her anxious eyes meeting his in silence.

“A life others will envy. That’s what I’m offering you.”

Those worn-out clothes she wore now—
The exhausting days and nights spent working just to survive—
To him, it was all something that could be fixed with a single phone call.

‘If you’ll agree to be my wife… I can give you all of it.’

But even as he made his confident offer, Ji-an remained silent.

He was known as a master negotiator. The man everyone believed would one day take the helm of W Group.

When he set his mind to something, he never failed to secure a deal. Not once.

And yet—

A heavy silence settled between them, stretching unnaturally long for such a brief moment.

Her unexpected lack of response slowly fractured the calm composure on Se-hyeon’s face.

Then, Ji-an finally dipped her head and spoke, her voice low and hesitant.

“Thank you… for the other day.”

She had abruptly brought up what had happened a few days ago.

Se-hyeon’s brow arched subtly in response to her sudden gratitude.

“It wasn’t until I saw you today that it came back to me. Thank you for helping me.”

‘So she didn’t even remember…’

The realization struck deeper than he expected. Had they not met today, she might not have remembered him at all.

It left a strange, sour feeling in his chest that he couldn’t quite shake. Even if, truthfully, it had taken him quite some time to recognize her as well.

The Yoo Ji-an who had smiled and waved so sweetly at the senior earlier had disappeared.

All that remained was a flustered woman, caught off guard by the weight of his words.

Displeased by the contrast, Se-hyeon pressed his lips into a firm line.

He reached up and loosened his tie slightly with a flick of his fingers.

“As you probably already know… Just like you said earlier, things really aren’t going well for me right now.”

Her gaze dropped, shadowed with emotion. There was sadness there, faint but unmistakable.

Se-hyeon didn’t miss it.

“The hospital bills are more than I ever expected.”

She said, letting out a bitter laugh. Her younger brother, Ji-min, was still unconscious, and no matter how much she worked, the money was never enough.

She had taken a leave of absence from school because she couldn’t afford the tuition fees, but no one knew how painful that decision had been for her.

Still, she tried to console herself.

She told herself that she could always go back to school later once things had improved.

There was no time to dwell on it.

She had no one to confide in.

And yet here she was, telling him everything.

Even she didn’t understand why.

Perhaps, after eight long years of struggling alone, she just needed someone — anyone — to listen.

“But I’ve never once thought about marriage. It all happened so suddenly…”

Her voice trembled as much as she did. Ji-an glanced at the contract in front of her, her voice faltering.

Se-hyeon watched her quietly as he took a business card from his pocket and placed it on top of the contract.

Ji-an flinched at the sound and lifted her head instinctively to look at him.

“I know, It’s not a decision anyone can make easily.”

Though his tone was composed, he didn’t truly understand.

From his perspective, she had nothing to lose. It wasn’t a bad deal. In fact, he didn’t even see her as someone who had the right to hesitate.

With a trace of discomfort, he ran his fingers along the edge of his eyebrow.

“I know it’s sudden. But if you make up your mind, call the number on the card.”

With that, he rose to his feet, signaling the end of the conversation. He looked down at her, still seated, his expression impossible to read.

“This is a lifetime decision—so take all the time you need.”

Then, without another word or backward glance, Se-hyeon turned and walked away.