Every Reason to Refuse
In the end, she arrived later than they had agreed.
She stepped out at the hotel's main entrance and hurried toward the lounge in quick, small steps. Along the way she could feel the gazes of people who recognized her, but she paid them no mind. The only thought in her head was that she was late.
The moment she entered the lounge, a staff member greeted her with a bright smile and a respectful bow.
"Welcome. Are you looking for someone?"
"Ah... um."
She hesitated, unsure of what to say, and the staff member asked again with a picture-perfect smile.
"Could you tell me the name the reservation is under?"
"It's..."
"It's under Cha Mu-yeol."
A rather familiar voice sounded at her ear. Eun-jae startled and turned around to find Mu-yeol looking down at her.
One hand tucked in his pocket, he regarded her with a gaze so intent it seemed to pin her in place, and Eun-jae was the first to look away in a hurry.
"I'll show you to your table."
The staff member started leading the way. While she stood there flustered and hesitating, her hand suddenly felt empty. Mu-yeol had taken the umbrella from her fingers. He passed it to the staff member and stepped in close, just a pace away.
"Unless you plan on standing here all day, shall we go in?"
Leaving only those words, Mu-yeol walked in first. Eun-jae followed behind him without a word. Once they were seated, the staff member handed them menus and spoke.
"I'll have your drinks prepared right away."
"An Americano, please. Iced."
"I'll have mine hot."
As if there was no need to even glance at the menu, Mu-yeol ordered first, and Eun-jae followed. After another polite bow, the staff member quickly withdrew.
An awkward silence settled over the table. Eun-jae kept her gaze lowered, fidgeting with her clasped hands.
The hotel lounge café had an open layout, but the spot they had been shown to was a somewhat private corner, out of other people's line of sight. Perhaps that was a small mercy. It was a relief that no one was glancing their way — but the way his gaze bore into her from across the table was uncomfortable in its own right.
Then a deep, heavy baritone crossed the space between them.
"You've gotten thinner since I last saw you."
Eun-jae slowly lifted the gaze she had kept lowered. Only then did their eyes meet in the air between them. Mu-yeol watched her steadily.
Her long hair was half-damp, her jawline sharper than before. Her face looked a little worn, a little rough. Even her clothes were blotched with rain. Because of her injured arm, she hadn't been able to put her coat on properly — it was merely draped over her shoulders.
"How's your body holding up?"
It sounded almost offhand, but there was a tenderness clinging to the edges of his words. His features were endlessly cold — and yet that low, gentle voice was so pleasant to listen to. It had been like that back then, too, hadn't it...
Recalling the past, Eun-jae gazed at the man sitting across from her as if in a trance. They had crossed paths a handful of times, nothing more. But this was the first time they had sat across from each other and had anything resembling a real conversation.
"I heard it's not looking good. What does your doctor say?"
"..."
"Go Eun-jae."
"...Yes?"
Focus returned to her eyes. At the sudden sound of her name, a faint flush colored Eun-jae's cheeks. At a loss, she pressed her lips together, her expression awkward and flustered.
Just as she thought the awkwardness was becoming unbearable, a staff member approached and set a cup down in front of each of them. After a respectful bow, the employee left.
"When shall we have the wedding?"
Her throat had gone dry with nerves, and she had just picked up her cup. At his sudden question, the hand holding it gave a startled tremor. Wedding. Even hearing it spoken aloud, the word felt impossibly distant.
"The... wedding?"
"The reason you and I are meeting today."
Originally, Cha Mu-yeol and Go Eun-jae had been scheduled to marry. But now everything had changed.
"This is a matchmaking meeting for marriage, isn't it?"
The purpose of a formal introduction. He wasn't wrong. But Eun-jae had come here to refuse.
"Your arm will need to heal some before you can wear a dress, I imagine. What do you think, Go Eun-jae?"
Even at his question, Eun-jae couldn't find an answer. She took a sip of her tea, then let out a small breath.
Mi-jung's voice rang in her ears like tinnitus. Something she had no choice but to do. Mi-jung's offer: she would stop concerning herself with Eun-jae, would let her become independent, would let her live however she pleased.
Eun-jae lifted her head and looked at him.
"I have something I need to tell you."
Her red lips, vivid against her pale skin, trembled faintly. Her dark eyes, restless with unease, held his. Mu-yeol looked back at her with a steady, unwavering gaze.
"Go ahead. I'm listening."
Mu-yeol studied her face carefully. Her lips parted as if to speak, then a small sigh slipped through them. What could she possibly have to say that would make her hesitate like this? Judging by her demeanor, it certainly wasn't anything good.
While he was still trying to guess at her words, Eun-jae seemed to steel herself, her expression turning resolute.
"You've seen the articles, so you already know, but..."
She trailed off as she began, her round forehead furrowed. There was something pained in her face, and Mu-yeol's eyes narrowed.
Go Eun-jae, the pianist blessed by God. The epithet that had followed her name her entire life — and her entire world besides. A talent coveted by countless families, one she might never be able to use again. Eighty-eight keys flickered across Go Eun-jae's face like a passing shadow.
"I... I might not be able to play the piano anymore."
Hearing that, Mu-yeol let out a short, quiet laugh. Then he answered as if it were nothing at all.
"And? What's the big deal about not being able to play the piano?"
At his reply — as if it didn't matter in the slightest — Eun-jae's brow furrowed slightly. His family — Oh Seon-ju, Cha Mu-yeol's mother — would have wanted her profession among other things. The very thing Go Gwang-hyun and Hong Mi-jung had used her for her entire life. A daughter who played the piano beautifully. A pianist sent down from heaven. And now all of it had come to nothing.
"And... I'm from an orphanage. I'm not Chairman Go's biological child, either."
The dark eyes that had been looking at Mu-yeol slid downward. Her lowered lashes trembled faintly. The left hand clenched into a fist, the restless, anxious look about her. Seeing her like that, Mu-yeol understood the situation at once. Unfortunately.
"What else."
At his brief prompt, Eun-jae looked at him with uneasy eyes.
"Is that all?"
"No. And..."
Lounging back in his chair, he scratched at the raised end of one eyebrow. As if he wanted to see how far she would go, Mu-yeol waited, the corner of his mouth drawn up in an easy, unhurried line.
With a faintly pained expression, Eun-jae hesitated for a long time. She let out a small sigh, then spoke in a quiet voice.
"I... pregnancy... I might be infertile..."
At the unexpected confession, Mu-yeol's brow twisted sharply. Pregnancy. The reason she was laying all her shame bare. It was obvious. She was rattling off every excuse she could think of to call off the marriage — to not go through with it. Who had pushed her into pulling a stunt like this? Honestly. It was so absurd he didn't know whether to laugh.
He let out a small, crooked laugh.
"Infertile."
As the word left his lips, heat flooded her face with shame. It felt as though the bare face hidden beneath all the pretense had been laid out in the open. Did she really have to say this much to him — the first love she had held for years? But Go Eun-jae had no other way.
"They said getting pregnant might be very difficult."
Having laid every last shameful thing bare, she didn't even want to look him in the face. It was so wretched. Eun-jae barely managed to soothe her tattered heart.
"Is that everything you wanted to say?"
But the voice that came across the table was not much different from before. She had clenched her hand so tightly that her nails dug into the skin, a sharp ache spreading through her palm.
"So... I don't think marriage will be possible."
In the end, she had said even that last thing. Now it was truly over. Having gotten out every word she had prepared, she felt almost relieved. Her circumstances — that she had no choice but to do this — were wretched beyond measure, but this too would pass. Just as she always had, she would endure it. Eun-jae steeled herself.
"Go Eun-jae."
After a brief silence, he called her name. But she still sat with her head bowed, like a guilty party.
"Go Eun-jae. Can you have sex with me?"
At the sudden, shameless question, her head slowly lifted. Looking straight into her wildly trembling eyes, Mu-yeol confirmed it again in a perfectly casual voice.
"Pregnancy. The prerequisite for that is sex. You're already thinking that far ahead. I'm talking about marriage right now."
"If we get married..."
"If we do?"
"We'd have to... have a child."
The end of her sentence trembled. In a marriage between families like theirs, having a child was all but a given. In truth, Hong Mi-jung hadn't been wrong. It wasn't a marriage born of love. They were simply bound by mutual interest. And every condition Eun-jae currently possessed was so terrible that anyone would have every reason to refuse.