“I’ve met someone I want to marry.”
He slowly lifted his head. His mother’s face, tense with anxiety, immediately came into view.
Seung-hyeon brought the glass of water on the table to his lips, trying his best to maintain a neutral expression. He had expected something serious, given how she began with a heavy, loaded “Seung-hyeon, I…” but he hadn’t imagined she’d drop the news of her remarriage.
He’d known that she’d been seeing someone lately. She’d been extremely cautious not to show it outwardly, but Seung-hyeon, who had lived alone with her for over a decade, wasn’t so easily fooled.
Lately, she often looked happy—more than that, she looked genuinely excited.
Of course, his feelings were complicated.
He was curious about what kind of man his mother—who had devoted herself entirely to raising him after his father died, never even entertaining the idea of dating—would choose. He also worried whether that man was truly a decent person.
And still, part of him was glad—glad at the thought that maybe, just maybe, this could ease some of her loneliness. But it wasn’t as if he felt like his mother was being taken away. Nor did he feel any desire to interfere with her happiness. He swore—not even for a second had he ever harbored such thoughts.
His birth father had died when Seung-hyeon was four.
There was no desire to honor his memory, not because Seung-hyeon lacked decency, but because he knew well the man hadn’t been a good person. That wasn’t just his own assessment; those were the words of his mother, Jo Jeong-hee—a woman who almost never spoke ill of others.
Given her nature, such a statement was practically the equivalent of calling him “the worst scum to ever walk the earth.”
The man had been an abusive bastard who regularly beat his wife and, after Seung-hyeon was born, rarely came home without an affair in tow. Yet on Seung-hyeon’s third birthday, perhaps on some random whim, the man had called to say he’d come home early so the three of them could celebrate together.
And that very day, he died. Whether it was a car accident or a heart attack, Seung-hyeon couldn’t quite remember.
He had been too young to form any clear memories at the time, and his mother had never once brought up the incident again.
Thus, Seung-hyeon’s birthday also became his father’s death anniversary. But Jo Jeong-hee adamantly treated that day as only her son’s birthday. It was her silent, resolute way of erasing that man’s existence from their lives altogether.
Regardless, his mother had endured an incredibly difficult life, even until Seung-hyeon reached high school. Raising a child alone, the hardships she must’ve faced were not lost on him.
That’s why it pained and saddened him to see her feeling guilty over something as simple as wanting to remarry. For as long as he could remember, it had always been just the two of them. That long history together had created an unshakable bond between them.
But even so, by nature, Seung-hyeon was fiercely independent. And despite their deep attachment, he’d always believed, rationally and unwaveringly, “Mom’s life is hers, and mine is mine.”
So, Seung-hyeon reached out, gently took her hand, and said,
“What are you apologizing for, Mom? So, who is he? I’d like to meet him sometime.”
Fortunately, Jo Jeong-hee wasn’t someone with poor judgment when it came to people. That was Seung-hyeon’s first thought after meeting the man who would become his stepfather.
The man was wealthy.
It felt ridiculous that this should be the very first thing to mention when introducing someone, but that one trait stood out so starkly that it couldn’t be pushed aside.
He wasn’t just some nouveau riche with money to burn—he was the son of the chairman of one of Korea’s leading conglomerates. His name was well-known enough that even an ordinary high schooler like Seung-hyeon had heard it on the news several times.
Perhaps because the whole situation felt so absurd and unreal, it was oddly easier to accept. Or maybe “accepting” wasn’t the right word—more like being swept along without time to process.
Whether being the son of a chaebol was a blessing or a curse depended entirely on how one looked at it.
From Seung-hyeon’s perspective, it leaned more toward a disadvantage. Sure, it was nice to think his mother wouldn’t have to struggle anymore, having raised him all alone until now—but aside from that, there wasn’t much to feel particularly positive about.
Still, the man had a gentle temperament, was cautious and considerate, and above all, there was an undeniable affection in the way he looked at Seung-hyeon’s mother.
That was why, despite his worries, Seung-hyeon felt he could relax a little. He hadn’t disliked the man from the start, but that didn’t mean he was instantly won over either.
No high schooler would be able to suddenly accept a complete stranger as their “father” and start following him around like a duckling.
What allowed Seung-hyeon to view him as more than just “a decent guy who treats Mom well” came from a completely unexpected moment.
Unlike Jo Jeong-hee, who had a son, the man had never married before. Maybe because he’d never had kids, he seemed to think of high school–aged Seung-hyeon as more like a kindergartener or an elementary school student.
The fact that he thought the best way to bond was to take him to an amusement park pretty much confirmed it. There was no way a trip to an amusement park with a future stepfather was going to be a magical experience.
The image of him fumbling awkwardly to hand over a balloon was enough to make Seung-hyeon cringe just thinking about it. Still, his mother had looked flustered but also hopeful when she told him about it, so he didn’t refuse.
And so, Seung-hyeon went to the amusement park with his soon-to-be stepfather. They rode rides, took photos, ate food, and even bought balloons. It was unfamiliar, sure, but Seung-hyeon wasn’t the type to be embarrassed by things like that, so the day wasn’t bad at all.
In fact, watching the man constantly gauge his mood made it unexpectedly enjoyable. By the time evening rolled around, Seung-hyeon even led him toward the Ferris wheel. The ride was quiet all the way up to the top, but not as awkward as one might expect. When the Ferris wheel reached halfway, the man finally spoke for the first time.
Had he said something like, “I figured you’ve never made memories like this since you never had a father,” or “We may not be related by blood, but I want to be a father to you,” Seung-hyeon probably would’ve scoffed.
He wouldn’t have shown it on his face—but he would never have liked the man, not in this life. But instead, with a slight smile, the man said this:
“I have a nephew. Well, technically, he’s not the only one, but… he’s the only one I’m really close with.”
It was such a random, irrelevant comment that Seung-hyeon thought, Who cares?—but he responded politely anyway.
“Really? How old is he?”
“Probably a couple of years older than you.”
The story itself wasn’t particularly interesting. But what was interesting was the expression on his soon-to-be stepfather’s face. It didn’t feel like something he brought up just to force a connection with Seung-hyeon. His face lit up with genuine fondness as he spoke, and that sincerity was hard to ignore.
“He was a lot younger back then, but I remember taking him to an amusement park once. He really loved it.”
Well, little kids usually like amusement parks.
Thinking that, Seung-hyeon gave a polite smile, even as his interest waned.
“He was always such a mature kid, so I never imagined he’d enjoy a place like that. But that day made me realize… there’s no such thing as someone who can’t enjoy this kind of thing.”
His words wandered a bit, but the way he spoke about his nephew—his face, his tone—it was all gentle and warm.
Normally, Seung-hyeon would’ve just thought, He must be really close with his nephew, and left it at that. But that day, his curiosity lingered longer than usual.
What kind of person was this nephew? If he was two years older than him, was he still in high school? Why had this man suddenly brought him up out of nowhere?
And as his thoughts drifted, the man seemed to pick up on them, speaking again as if reading his mind.
“That came out of nowhere, didn’t it? Honestly, I brought you here today because of him, too. Might’ve been a mistake. I dragged you around all day… You must’ve felt uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, suddenly feeling strangely curious, Seung-hyeon asked, “What’s your nephew’s name?”
“Seon-woo. Gwak Seon-woo.”
Seung-hyeon nodded, not thinking much of it.
It was a random question, born out of a momentary whim, and the name didn’t strike him as particularly memorable.
He didn’t plan on rejecting the man his mother loved, and as someone about to become his stepfather, he figured they should at least get along. But once the wedding was over, it wasn’t like he expected to be that involved with the man—and certainly not with his nephew.
The face he’d seen in the Ferris wheel cabin—sincere, more “decent” than he’d anticipated—had left a better impression than expected, but at the time, that was all it was.
Not long after that, he became Gwak Seung-hyeon.
And not much later still, he came face-to-face with the Gwak Seon-woo he’d only heard about in passing.
