CONFRONTATION

"Are you sure about this, Jiwoo?" Haneul asked, her voice tinged with doubt, for what felt like the tenth time that day.

Clothes lay strewn across the bed in a colorful, tangled heap, while a large suitcase and a CHANEL duffle bag sat open on the floor, gaping like silent spectators. The room felt almost alive, a chaotic sea of fabric and memories, with shirts and dresses scattered like fish adrift in the ebb and flow of their indecision about the "right" plan.

Despite the backlash their brunch idea had conjured, Haneul clung fiercely to her optimism, believing they could still confront Jiwoo's parents together, challenge their expectations, and stand united against the arranged marriage.

Yet Jiwoo was resolute, shaking her head as she refused to consider alternatives any longer. She was convinced she knew exactly what had to be done—even at the expense of her other relationships.

If her parents couldn't appreciate the divinity of her desires, why should Jiwoo care about theirs?

In this light, Jiwoo found herself reflecting on her brother's choice to pursue his dreams, undeterred by society's stereotypical expectations of him. She never had the chance to express her pride in him until Hoseok called her after hearing from Jimin the disappointing recount of the event.

Ever the compassionate brother, he consoled her with gentle words, leaving Jiwoo feeling much more uplifted by the end of their hour-long conversation. They were only four years apart, but Jiwoo was surprised by how much maturity Hoseok had gained now that he was no longer bound by their father's paternalistic influence. She was also taken aback when he revealed Jimin's intense vow to ruin his father—a promise Jimin had fulfilled after the news of Park Seo Joon's ousting from Park Corporation reached her.

Knowing Jimin, she didn't believe he was capable of something like this. Yet, Jiwoo knew his tendency to abandon any commitment that interfered with his love life. She would have disagreed with Jimin at any opportunity, but she couldn't deny being genuinely impressed by his efforts to stop the forced marriage between them, even if his actions were driven by self-interest.

A similar feeling of challenge stirred in Jiwoo's heart.

If Jimin and Hoseok could achieve their goals through defiance, then surely she could do the same by running away, couldn't she? It wasn't as if her decision would bring about the end of the world. After all, she had every right to choose her own happiness.

Keeping the same reason in mind, Jiwoo shared her thoughts with Hoseok, while Haneul listened closely, and their reactions couldn't have been more different.

"You're an adult, Jiwoo. You can do whatever you want. Just know your little brother's always got your back," Hoseok said before hanging up, bringing a smile to Jiwoo's face. But the smile quickly faded when, shortly after, Haneul asked, "Tell me you were joking about running away just now, like you always do."

Jiwoo longed to say that she was, to assure Haneul that everything until that moment had been a figment of their imagination and that they would soon get married in Korea. But she couldn't give Haneul false hope—the one thing Haneul desperately wanted from her then, eyes filled with wistful longing.

They both knew their options were limited, and one of them would have to break a heart—whether it would be theirs or their parents' remained uncertain. Still, Haneul clung to the hope of sparing them all.

"Can't there be another way?" she asked, her voice fragile and soft.

Jiwoo inhaled sharply, feeling an overwhelming urge to shield Haneul from the world. She was too bright, too hopeful for a place so dark. But there was no point in dwelling on the choices with so much at stake. So Jiwoo chose not to answer, leaving fate to decide whatever destiny lay ahead.

Though it would be a blatant lie to say that there wasn't an unfamiliar melancholy in Jiwoo's expression in the days that followed, as she began to put her plan to run away into motion.

Jiwoo had already established her connections in Australia and secured the perfect excuse for why she and Haneul needed to leave for the continent immediately. She had booked the tickets and made all the arrangements, but their flights were ultimately canceled due to transportation disruptions caused by the unexpected earthquake two days earlier.

The natural disaster caused no major damage, only a delay in Jiwoo's plan to leave, now postponed by a week. Yet, there was something in the way Jiwoo lowered her head, her eyes distant and devoid of their usual warmth, that made Haneul ask if this was truly what Jiwoo wanted—just like today.

"You know we don't have to do this, right?" Haneul said again, hoping her words would pull Jiwoo's focus away from her determined attempt to avoid eye contact.

When there was no response, Haneul circled the bed and stood directly in front of Jiwoo, halting both her packing and the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.

"Are you really going to ignore me like this?" Haneul demanded, her voice tinted with frustration. It wasn't like her to lose her temper, but with so much pressure building, the thread was bound to snap.

Jiwoo didn't blame her; in fact, she understood all too well the breaking point Haneul had reached. She was close to hers, too. What bothered her, though, was the unsettling feeling of something entirely different—something she couldn't quite define by herself.

A heavy sigh lingered in the air.

"Can we not do this right now?" Jiwoo finally said, lifting her head to meet Haneul's gaze.

Prominent dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her nose was a shade of flushed pink—a result of her relentless, weary rubbing since the morning. The consequences of running away weighed on her more than she had anticipated as time crawled by with an unbearable slowness. The uncertainty of what lay ahead was almost suffocating, compounded by the flood of unanswered questions.

What would happen after she fled Korea with Haneul and the news of their marriage reached her family? Would they be furious? Or would they be disappointed in her?

"Don't let me down, Jiwoo"—Mr. Jung's words from New Year's Eve echoed still, relentlessly in her mind, like a warning she couldn't escape.

Was running away truly the one thing that would disappoint Mr. Jung? Jiwoo didn't understand anything at all.

All these questions were tiring her brain, constantly nagging at her, even when she'd stubbornly began devising ways to silence the persistent voice at the back of her mind. Yet somehow, that voice slipped free, taking the shape of Haneul and confronting her with the very question that had been wearing on her nerves since the past few days.

"You know as well as I do, Jiwoo. We have to go through with this. You can't just take away your parents' happiness like that! Think about how hurt they'd be if they found out."

"And what about us, Haneul?" Jiwoo snapped, her words trembling with raw emotion. "Are you truly willing to sacrifice our happiness for theirs? Will you end our engagement of so many years just because they disapprove of our relationship?" Her eyes were red, her expression fierce, the tension in her body unmistakable.

Haneul furrowed her brows. "How can you be so sure they'd disapprove of us when you haven't even told them? Have you really thought this through, Jiwoo? We can't just jump to conclusions and expect the worst."

Jiwoo's racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt, her heart pounding erratically in her chest as Haneul's words sank in.

It made perfect sense.

Jiwoo was mourning a battle she hadn't even fought. So consumed by the thought of running away, she had forgotten to pause and think clearly. She had completely overlooked the promise she made to Haneul—to make her her runaway bride "if" Mr. and Mrs. Jung didn't accept their relationship from the start. But amid the chaos of her failed attempt to approach Mr. Jung on New Year's Eve and the forced marriage proposal that followed, Jiwoo never had the chance to tell them separately.

Looking back, she regretted not confronting her parents on the day of the ruined brunch. It would have been the perfect moment to explain why she couldn't marry Jimin—a missed opportunity to strike while the iron was hot. Yet, she had been an utter fool to let it slip right through her fingers.

Jiwoo wondered if she might still get an opportunity like that, but guessed it was already too late at the moment.

Another breathy sigh escaped her.

"I honestly don't know, Haneul. But there's no time to dwell on 'what ifs' now, not after everything that's happened. What's done is done—we should focus on our future," she said with a dull shrug of her shoulders, leaving Haneul stuttering over her words.

"I—But that's—Jiwoo, you can't do this! Don't give up on them so easily. They're your parents!"

Jiwoo reluctantly turned a deaf ear to Haneul, closing her eyes in exhaustion before returning to fold her clothes and neatly place them in the suitcase. She didn't know if what she was doing was right, but she knew it was the best choice. Sooner or later, they would come to terms with it, including her parents.

Maybe a few years apart would ease her parents' displeasure over her marrying Haneul without their permission. And perhaps, when the time came, Jiwoo could forgive herself for making such a decision on her own.

Maybe, after all, they wouldn't be the only ones hurt by this. It was already hurting her and Haneul, by the looks of it.

Tears blurred Haneul's vision as she took a sharp breath, her chest tightening with an unbearable amount of pain while she watched Jiwoo's casual indifference. She wouldn't have been surprised if the person in front of her was an imposter; the Jiwoo she remembered and fell in love with was a strong-willed woman, someone who would never take the easy way out just for the sake of it.

Haneul stepped back, questioning whether she had made a mistake, if she had somehow become the catalyst for Jiwoo's defiance toward her parents. After all, she was the root cause of Jiwoo's plan to run away.

No, Haneul thought, she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't bear the thought of Jiwoo's parents blaming her for taking their daughter. She had to find a way to talk Jiwoo out of this rash decision. She had to.

With newfound determination, Haneul spun on her heels and treaded out of the room, seeking some fresh air to gather her thoughts and find new ideas.

However, just as Haneul was about to cross the threshold of Jiwoo's room and turn the corner, she was met with a wide-eyed Mrs. Jung, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Without meaning to, she had eavesdropped on their entire conversation. Standing there with a tray of classic Korean lunch dishes in hand, her expression was a blend of surprise and concern.

It was as if the wind had stolen the breath from Haneul's lungs, leaving her motionless, her senses numb from the cold spreading through her body.

Had Mrs. Jung found out about her and Jiwoo? Would she tell her husband? How much had she overheard?

A nerve misfired in Haneul's brain, scrambling her ability to form coherent sentences, rendering her unable to ask any of the questions racing through her mind.

"Mrs. Jung, I. . . We—I mean, Jiwoo was—Did you—?" Haneul stammered.

Her face was marked with unmistakable fear and distress, a stark contrast to the calm demeanor Mrs. Jung had come to expect from her after spending so much time together. But then again, it was likely the cold, standoffish atmosphere that had settled over the Jung mansion for the past few weeks that intimidated her and Jiwoo into silence.

Mrs. Jung reasoned as much; after all, why else wouldn't her daughter share details of her dating life with her? It wasn't as if she'd ignore her feelings or put a ban on whom she could or couldn't date. Mrs. Jung deeply respected her children's choices, whether in their careers or in whom they loved—she would always be there to support them. All that mattered to her was their safety and happiness.

Still, she couldn't understand why Jiwoo and Haneul felt the need to keep their guards up around her. She never wanted them to feel as though they were alone and on their own.

Mrs. Jung placed a calming hand on Haneul's shoulder.

"It's alright, dear. You don't need to worry about me—I'll talk to Jiwoo," Mrs. Jung said with a gentle smile. "And you were right; I couldn't bear to miss such a beautiful wedding of yours. Thank you for being there for Jiwoo and guiding her. I know her tendency to be as stubborn as her father in desperate times."

Haneul felt a rush of air fill her lungs again at that, and she exhaled in relief.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jung. You shouldn't have found out like this." Haneul carefully took Mrs. Jung's hand from her shoulder and held it in both of hers.

The smile on Mrs. Jung's face only softened into serenity, her eyes glinting with unspoken emotions. She was grateful to have found a future daughter-in-law like Haneul, without even having to try.

"I'm so glad Jiwoo has someone like you as a partner." Mrs. Jung squeezed Haneul's hand tenderly, causing momentary confusion to flash across Haneul's face at the unexpected comment. "I'm sorry if any of my words made you uncomfortable in the past. I wouldn't have made that comment at the mall if I had known you two were a couple."

Haneul furrowed her brows, trying to piece together Mrs. Jung's words. Then, the memory of Mrs. Jung asking her to be the bridesmaid at Jiwoo's wedding resurfaced, and her expression shifted to surprise and understanding.

"Oh, it's okay, Mrs. Jung," Haneul replied with a small smile. "You don't have to apologize. As you said, you didn't know about us back then. It's been so long, I'd honestly forgotten all about it."

"You're such a sweetie, darling. Thank you so much. I had your lunch sent to your room. Now, go eat it before it gets cold. I need to have a word with your stubborn girlfriend."

Mrs. Jung's playful tone as she promised a light-hearted reprimand for Jiwoo lifted an invisible weight from Haneul's chest. For the first time in what felt like ages, she glimpsed a glimmer of hope. Mrs. Jung's acceptance and support felt like a turning point—one that might finally help Jiwoo let go of her doubts and avoid making a rash decision.

Haneul's spirits soared, a warm flutter of anticipation filling her as she imagined the possibilities ahead.

Not wanting to keep Mrs. Jung waiting, Haneul quickly said, "Thank you," and hurried to her room, eager for the news that would follow this unexpected conversation.

Mrs. Jung withdrew her hand from Haneul's grasp as the latter stepped past her, using it to steady the lunch tray she had been balancing all this time. The smile that had brightened her face moments ago softened, fading into a thin line as her gaze fell to her frail hands—the same hands that had once cradled Jiwoo as a child.

The realization of how quickly time had passed struck Mrs. Jung. The little girl who had once embraced her parents' values now stood apart from them, carving a path of her own.

And while Mrs. Jung could understand the reasons behind Jiwoo's choices, the ache in her heart lingered, a quiet pang of hurt that refused to fade.

Had she and Mr. Jung failed as parents? Was that why Jiwoo hadn't confided in them about something so important? Did Jiwoo think they wouldn't understand—or worse, that they would judge her for loving someone of the same gender? Mrs. Jung didn't have the answers, but she knew there was only one way to find out: she had to ask her daughter directly.

Taking a steadying breath, she stepped into Jiwoo's room.

Jiwoo's back was turned, her focus on packing the last of her accessories into a duffle bag. She didn't notice her mother's presence until the soft clearing of a throat broke the silence. Startled, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Lunch, Jiwoo," Mrs. Jung said with a small smile, holding up the tray. "You'll need carbs to lift all those heavy suitcases."

Jiwoo turned back to her bag, zipping it shut. "Leave it on the table, Mom. I'll eat it later," she said, her tone clipped.

Mrs. Jung frowned but placed the tray on the bedside table. "And let it sit there like the last two meals? Absolutely not. You know I don't tolerate wasting food, Jiwoo."

Her voice carried a note of reprimand, but her actions softened the words as she sat beside her daughter, watching her closely. "Do you really need to go all the way to Melbourne just to submit your resignation? I'm sure you could handle it from here with all the advanced technology we have." Mrs. Jung's voice carried a gentle challenge, her words carefully chosen to probe Jiwoo's decision.

Jiwoo froze in place as she set the bag beside the suitcase, her back stiff with tension, unable to muster a witty retort.

Mrs. Jung observed closely, her sharp gaze tracking Jiwoo's every move as she slowly straightened. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her eyes darting nervously, the gears in her mind visibly turning as she scrambled to conjure an excuse.

"I know, Mom. But I need to take all my belongings before I settle back in Korea, like Dad wants. Haven't I said that before?" Jiwoo's voice was even, but her chest tightened with every word. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the nervous flutter in her stomach, and continued, "I also need to return Haneul to her parents. I promised them I'd get their daughter home safely. I took the responsibility of showing her around myself, after all." The lie slipped easily from her lips, but the weight of it pressed against her chest, leaving her with an uneasy feeling she couldn't shake.

Mrs. Jung sighed, her tone light, as though the conversation were nothing new. "Ah, I see. But what about your marriage? You can't send off Haneul without marrying her first, you know. A bride must be present at her own wedding, Jiwoo." Her words were casual, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed her, showing that she had been planning this moment for far longer than Jiwoo was willing to admit. "I already have the perfect bridal gowns picked out for you two."

Jiwoo's eyes widened in shock at those words. Completely caught off guard, she turned to her mother, who met her gaze with a grin, mirth dancing in her eyes. However, her expressions turned serious when the question of how she had arrived there became clear on Jiwoo's face.

"I overheard you two talking earlier," Mrs. Jung began. "And I agree with Haneul. Why would you think we wouldn't support your decision to marry her? Is it because your father already set you up with Park? Is that why you hesitated to tell us about the two of you?"

Jiwoo opened her mouth, but no words came. Her thoughts scattered, slipping away before she could grasp them. She shut her mouth again, too stunned to form a single coherent response.

"Or were you afraid we wouldn't approve of your marriage because you're both women?" Mrs. Jung asked, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You know you can tell me anything, Jiwoo. I'm your mother."

Mrs. Jung rested a gentle hand on Jiwoo's hunched shoulder, her expression softening as she watched her daughter struggle.

Jiwoo's breathing hitched, her eyes blinking rapidly. The questions were true—she knew that—but something clawed deep inside her, an overwhelming pressure that made the words stick in her throat. "I-I tried, Mom, but I—" Jiwoo stuttered, then clamped her mouth shut, a miserable sound escaping her lips. Unable to hold it in any longer, she buried her head in her mother's lap. Her voice broke, strangled with pain, as she admitted, "I was afraid to disappoint Dad." Tears spilled as she finally let herself fall apart.

"He told me not to disappoint him the day he arranged my marriage to Jimin," Jiwoo said, her voice trembling. "And I was—I was so scared, Mom. I swear I tried to tell him—and you—about Haneul and me, but I couldn't." She paused, her breath hitching. "You know what happened when Jimin told Dad he couldn't marry me. After that, I never got the chance to tell him on my own.

"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. I didn't want to run away, but I had no other choice. I couldn't marry someone else, and I couldn't bear to disappoint you and Dad."

Jiwoo let out a shaky breath, the trembles in her body gradually subsiding as she stayed in Mrs. Jung's embrace. Her mother's gentle hand rubbing her back seemed to lift the weight off her shoulders, offering a moment of solace.

She stayed like this for a few minutes, savoring the comfort of her mother's embrace. Her comfort felt like returning home after a long, exhausting day. Jiwoo wished nothing more than to stay there forever, convinced that no place could offer her more peace. In that moment, she felt invincible, safe from everything.

Her breathing softened, and the pounding of her heart slowed as the tears gradually stopped. Mrs. Jung stroked her hand through Jiwoo's hair, soft sniffles escaping her as she finished listening to her daughter's pain.

"Oh, my poor Jiwoo. How could you think like that, knowing how much your father loves you?" Mrs. Jung reassured her softly. "He only wanted you to marry Jimin to keep you close. He was heartbroken about his children drifting away from him."

Jiwoo's back stiffened at her words. Slowly, she lifted herself from her mother's lap and met her teary gaze.

"What?" Jiwoo asked, her voice barely above a whisper, confusion evident in her eyes.

Mrs. Jung nodded. "Your father won't admit it, but he can't bear to live without his children. It was the same with Hoseok. He knew the kind of hectic life idols lead when your brother approached him about choosing it as a career. He was also opposed to how companies exploit their idols. Your father didn't want Hoseok to lead a life that could bring him so much turmoil, which is why he threatened to disown him. But knowing your brother, he's just as stubborn as your father—thick-headed as ever.

"Give him a chance, Jiwoo. He only wants what's best for you. Don't give up on him so easily," she urged, heaving a soft sigh.

Jiwoo stared unblinkingly, trying to process everything she had just learned about her father. It now made sense why Mr. Jung had reacted so strongly when news spread about Hoseok getting too close to a male at the listening party for his new album. He hadn't been angry about the relationship; he was furious about the way the industry exploited his personal life for profit. His words from that night rang in Jiwoo's ears, but with an entirely different meaning now.

"I warned him that this industry was no good. Now he's facing public sexualization and harassment just for viewership. His private life has become a disgraceful joke—" Mr. Jung had said, and at the time, Jiwoo had mistaken it for a simple disapproval of homosexuality.

God, how could Jiwoo have been so blind? Haneul was right; she had jumped to conclusions, assuming the worst without thinking it through.

Who knew what a huge mistake she might make if she ran away?

The thought lingered, but deep down, Jiwoo knew better.

"Yeah, you're right, Mom. I won't give up on him," Jiwoo said, her voice firm as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks. "I'll just go and talk to him. No more avoiding the truth."

Jiwoo returned Mrs. Jung's relieved smile, later standing outside Hoseok's abandoned room as her mother's words lingered in her thoughts.

The room was pristine, left untouched since Hoseok had departed the Jung mansion. Her father often visited it in solitude, seeking solace in the absence of his once—laughing, energetic son. This time, Jiwoo saw him differently. His misty eyes, framed by deepening wrinkles, carried a quiet longing as he gazed at a family picture on the wall. The photo—of him, his wife, and their two children—seemed to anchor his thoughts, his thin lips pressed into a mournful frown.

Jiwoo blinked in silence, seeing not the firm-willed director of Jung Organisation she had always known, but a defeated father. The sight softened something in her heart, and a strong resolve began to form-to ease the old man's pain.

"Dad," Jiwoo called, her voice steady with resolve. Mr. Jung turned to face her, his heavy-lidded eyes meeting her determined gaze.

"I want to settle back in Korea," she began, her voice deliberate. She hesitated, her heart pounding, before continuing. "But with Haneul. I want to marry her. Not Jimin."