If someone had shown up genuinely looking forward to the matchmaking meeting, it would’ve been even more of a hassle to deal with. In a way, it was a relief that it was someone who didn’t want to be here at all.
When she gestured for him to take the front seat, Seon-woo frowned slightly.
“I just told you, didn’t I?”
“I heard you, but those people are blocking the way. It’d be difficult to leave right away.”
It didn’t seem like she was trying to trap him on purpose. Seon-woo shut his eyes tightly and bit back a curse.
“The Chairman’s probably nearby. Try calling him yourself.”
“Are you trying to say I can’t leave until I speak to him?”
“I couldn’t, either.”
What the hell did that old man set up this time? It wasn’t entirely impossible to break through the guards blocking the exit and get out of here. But considering the Chairman dragged someone unrelated into a matchmaking meeting and now wasn’t even letting him leave, some kind of responsibility had to be taken.
Reluctantly, he made the call—but even as the ringtone dragged on, the Chairman didn’t pick up. When he checked the time, there was only an hour left until the movie started. It had taken quite a while to get here, and the roads back looked congested. To make matters worse, today was Christmas Eve, with even more people out and about than usual. Reaching the theater in time was already looking like a lost cause.
With an irritated sigh, Seon-woo opened his message app. There was no way the Chairman didn’t notice the call—he was clearly ignoring it on purpose. Luring someone out like this and then ignoring their calls? That damn old man.
[Come here now. I’ll wait 20 minutes.]
[If you don’t plan on coming, I’ll find my own way back. And if that happens, don’t expect to ever see me again.]
He sent both messages. If the Chairman didn’t show up by then, Seon-woo wasn’t going to care about appearances—he was getting out, even if it meant smashing a plate over the bodyguards’ heads to do it.
He opened his phone again, this time calling his secretary.
“It’s me, Secretary Park. Call the restaurant right now and see if we can move the reservation earlier.”
—“Pardon? Yes, sir.”
He wasn’t trying to delay the reservation, but move it up—because there was no way they were going to make the movie on time now. Just in case, he had also booked tickets for the next time slot, and the one after that, so they could still go if they wanted. But they’d end up with some dead time in between. If they stopped by the restaurant first and then went to the theater, they might just be able to smooth things over with a minor schedule shift.
Seon-woo then drafted a long, apologetic text to Seung-hyeon, explaining the situation. He resisted the urge to bite his lip in frustration and shut the screen off. With a sigh, he turned to Jin Ye-jin, who was sitting calmly nearby.
“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“The one with a situation worth explaining here isn’t me—it’s you, Gwak Seon-woo, isn’t it?”
She wasn’t wrong. He certainly looked like someone with a lot going on. Still, he hadn’t asked her to kill time or to get a detailed explanation. Half out of curiosity, half just to pass the time, he had thrown the question her way.
“I’m asking why someone who clearly doesn’t even want to be here is sitting across from me right now.”
Jin Ye-jin refilled her nearly empty teacup before answering.
“This is my tenth matchmaking meeting this month alone. You’re the first one who’s ever asked me something like that.”
“Tenth?”
The number was ridiculous. So it wasn’t just that she’d been dragged here unwillingly—he was just one of many in a whole series of arranged meetings. He couldn’t tell if that made things better or worse.
“My family didn’t approve of the person I wanted to marry.”
She said it calmly, then lifted her head and added,
“Isn’t your situation kind of similar?”
Seon-woo’s expression instantly darkened. He didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t wrong. She was going through a parade of arranged meetings because she couldn’t marry the person she truly wanted—due to her family’s disapproval. And him, Gwak Seon-woo… Though his circumstances weren’t identical, they were in the same ballpark.
He was supposed to be on a date with his cousin—by blood, no, but still close enough to raise eyebrows. Yet here he was, suckered into a matchmaking meeting by his grandfather, who faked being on his deathbed.
His stomach churned with frustration—at himself, and at the complete inability to explain any of this to Seung-hyeon in a way that made sense.
“If I offended you, I’m sorry,” Jin Ye-jin said flatly.
It wasn’t something she needed to apologize for, and her voice reflected that detached tone. Right then, Seon-woo’s phone rang.
He thought it might be his secretary calling back about the restaurant reservation—but it wasn’t.
The name on the screen was Seung-hyeon.
The moment Seon-woo saw the name, a wave of guilt washed over him.
“Hello.”
He answered slowly, and Seung-hyeon’s composed voice came through immediately.
—“Ah, Director?”
“Gwak Seung-hyeon… you probably saw the texts, but… I mean, I think I’m going to be a little late…”
Seung-hyeon hadn’t even said anything yet, but Seon-woo was already drowning in guilt, rushing into a clumsy, unsolicited explanation. He was just about to suggest pushing the movie back to the next showing and grabbing dinner in the meantime when—
—“Director, I’ll just head home first.”
Seung-hyeon said it calmly.
“What?”
Seon-woo’s voice stiffened before he could hide it. Just like that, all the minute-by-minute plans he’d been tweaking fell apart.
—“That’s why I called. I canceled the movie tickets and I’m going home. Don’t worry. Take your time and finish up whatever you’re doing.”
Maybe Seung-hyeon was upset. He’d never shown irritation toward Seon-woo before, but he had clearly been looking forward to today. Multiple times, even. For things to turn out like this—He couldn’t not be disappointed—not after the whole day had unraveled like this. Seon-woo let out a deep sigh inwardly.
Ugh… Even if the Chairman really was on the verge of death today, I should’ve ignored him.
Cursing himself for being fooled, Seon-woo bitterly regretted showing any respect for his so-called elder. He replied with a voice full of guilt.
“Team Leader Gwak… I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
—“Seriously, it’s fine. Are you going to eat before you come home?”
Seung-hyeon asked with a light chuckle. Seon-woo responded firmly.
“Of course not.”
—“Then I’ll make something for us.”
His tone was casual. So casual, in fact, that Seon-woo wondered if he really meant it.
Was that it? Sure, Seung-hyeon had said he wanted to go to the movies, but it’s not like he was a kid looking forward to a school field trip. Maybe this kind of change in plans didn’t faze him at all. Maybe he thought it’d be better to skip the awkward reshuffling of the date entirely and just eat together at home.
But Seon-woo knew better.
That overly calm voice—that was the real red flag. Something was definitely off. Things were going wrong, fast.
He hurriedly glanced at his watch. It hadn’t even been five minutes since he’d called the Chairman—nowhere near the twenty-minute deadline he’d given.
After a moment of hesitation, Seon-woo stood up from his seat.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll be leaving now. If the Chairman shows up, please let him know.”
Seeing that he really was getting ready to leave, Jin Ye-jin looked slightly taken aback.
“You don’t have a reverse gear, do you? Are you sure you want me to pass on the message?”
He hesitated for just a second—but not for long. If he really cared about what would be said in his absence, he wouldn’t be walking out in the first place.
Shrugging, Seon-woo headed straight for the door.
Normally, he would’ve waited for the Chairman. He would’ve apologized to his date, explained the unexpected delay, and stuck it out for the full twenty minutes out of courtesy to Jin Ye-jin.
But what could he do, when the only person he truly couldn’t stop thinking about right now was Gwak Seung-hyeon?
“I had a lovely time today.”
The words were empty—there wasn’t a shred of sincerity in them.
The bodyguards stepped in to block his way, but Seon-woo had made up his mind. If he really wanted to push through, there was nothing they could do. After all, they weren’t allowed to harm him; they were strictly under orders to act defensively.
He walked straight out of the restaurant.
Hopping into a taxi, he punched in the address of the other restaurant he had reserved earlier. He couldn’t go straight home—not yet. He still had to pick up the cake he had left at the restaurant.
