Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He quickly pulled over and glanced at the screen. It was his mother.

"Ju-chan," her voice sounded firm yet urgent over the line, "I need you to meet me at the café near your university. Right now."

Ju-chan frowned, instinctively glancing at his wrist. His watch, gleaming faintly under the streetlight, read 10:00 p.m. A pang of unease crept into his chest—not because of the late hour, but because of the watch itself.

The sleek, silver watch on his wrist was a gift from Ha-rin, his ex-girlfriend. Memories of her smile, the warmth in her eyes as she handed him the box on his birthday, flashed in his mind.

That morning, Ju-chan had been rushing to leave the house. His usual watch had gone missing, likely buried somewhere in the chaos of his cluttered room. Desperate, he’d grabbed the first one he could find—the one he swore he’d never wear again.

Now, sitting at the red light, he stared at it, the faint ticking sound growing louder in his ears. He clenched the handlebars of his scooter, his jaw tightening.

Why do I still have this? he thought, his gaze fixed on the watch. Why couldn’t I just throw it away?

Before he could dwell further, the traffic light flickered green. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that lingered like a shadow in his mind.

"Focus, Ju-chan," he muttered under his breath, revving the engine and continuing down the road. Whatever this is about, it’s probably important.

But even as the scooter sped forward, his mind remained tethered to the past, to the woman he had once loved, and to the unresolved question: Do I still hold onto this watch because of her… or because of the man I used to be when I was with her?The café was bathed in the warm glow of its hanging lights, the gentle hum of conversations blending with the soft clinking of cups. Ju-chan parked his scooter by the curb, removing his helmet with a sigh. Through the glass window, he spotted his mother sitting with two women—a familiar face beside two unfamiliar ones.

He adjusted his jacket, steeling himself for whatever reason his mother had summoned him at this late hour. Pushing open the café door, the faint chime of the bell announced his arrival. His mother waved enthusiastically, her expression a mixture of excitement and unease.

"Ju-chan, over here!"

As Ju-chan approached the table, the older woman turned to him with a warm, practiced smile.

"So, this is your son," she said, her voice full of admiration. "Handsome, just as you described."

Ju-chan offered a polite bow, his sharp eyes darting to the two strangers. "Good evening," he said, his tone respectful but reserved.

The older woman leaned forward, her voice carrying an air of familiarity. "I’m Soojin, your mother’s old friend. You can call me Auntie Soojin."

Ju-chan nodded courteously. "Nice to meet you, Auntie Soojin."

Soojin’s smile widened as she gestured toward the young woman beside her. "And this is my daughter, Mi Cha."

Mi Cha’s head dipped slightly, her posture shy and restrained. She gave a small, hesitant smile. "Hello," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Ju-chan smiled warmly, attempting to ease her evident nerves. "Hi, Mi Cha. It’s nice to meet you."

Mi Cha felt a flicker of warmth at his kindness, but her hands tightened around the hem of her sleeve. Her mind was a whirlwind of self-doubt and unease. She hadn’t wanted to come tonight. The very idea of being paraded before a stranger, of discussing marriage like a business transaction, had left her stomach in knots. Yet here she was, sitting across from this man who seemed far too calm for someone caught in such an awkward situation.

Ju-chan turned to his mother, his brow furrowing slightly. "So… what’s this about? You don’t usually call me out this late."

His mother hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her scarf. She glanced at Soojin, who gave her a reassuring nod before speaking.

"We’ve arranged for you to marry Mi Cha," Soojin said, her tone measured yet firm, as though trying to soften the blow.

Ju-chan froze, his expression unreadable. "Marry?" he repeated, the single word laced with both disbelief and intrigue.

"Yes," his mother interjected quickly, her voice tight with emotion. "Soojin and I have been friends for many years. Her late husband once helped our family in a way we can never repay. This… this is our way of honoring that debt."

Mi Cha’s head dropped further, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never come back up. Why is she saying all of this in front of him?

Ju-chan leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking briefly toward Mi Cha. She hadn’t said a word since the introductions, her hands folded tightly in her lap. He couldn’t help but notice the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes avoided his.

For a moment, his mind drifted back to Ha-rin. Her laughter, her soft voice, the way she had looked at him before everything fell apart. The pain of that breakup had consumed him for months, leaving a void he thought might never heal.

His mother’s voice from years ago echoed faintly in his mind.

"If you don’t let go of Ha-rin, how will you move on?"

And his own reply, desperate and raw:

"Then find someone for me. Someone who can make me forget her."

The memory struck him like a jolt, anchoring him to the present. Ju-chan exhaled deeply, his expression softening. "Alright," he said finally, his voice calm and steady. "I’ll do it."

Both women gasped softly, their faces a mixture of surprise and relief. Mi Cha’s head snapped up, her wide eyes locking onto Ju-chan’s.

"You… you’ll do it?" she stammered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Ju-chan turned to her, his expression kind but resolute. "Yes. If this is what our families want, I’ll do it."

Mi Cha’s heart raced. She couldn’t believe how easily he’d agreed. Did he even understand the gravity of what he was saying? Marriage wasn’t just a word—it was a lifelong commitment, a bond that would tie them together whether they wanted it or not.

Her hands shook slightly as she struggled to find her voice. Why does he look so calm? she thought. Does this really mean so little to him?

But before she could speak, Ju-chan stood up abruptly, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. His chair scraped against the floor as he turned to Mi Cha, his expression unreadable yet strangely gentle.

"Mi Cha," he began, his voice steady and clear. "I may not know you well yet, but I promise to do my best to make this work. So…" He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "Will you marry me?"

Mi Cha’s eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. Her mind screamed at her to say something, to react, but all she could do was stare at him.

Her mother gasped softly beside her, her hands flying to her mouth. Even Ju-chan’s mother looked stunned, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

Mi Cha’s thoughts raced, memories of her late husband flashing before her eyes. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his laughter, the way he had promised to be by her side forever. And now, sitting here with this stranger, she felt as though she were betraying those memories.

But there was something in Ju-chan’s voice—something steady, reassuring—that broke through her hesitation.

"I…" she began, her voice trembling. She looked down at her hands, then back up at Ju-chan. His gaze didn’t waver, his sincerity clear.

"I will," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ju-chan smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips. He extended his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Mi Cha placed hers in his.