“Apparently, love doesn’t matter.” She turns to Mr. Choi and speaks to him in Korean.
She walks toward a car outside with Ms. Kim and one of the bodyguards. I try to follow, but Mr. Choi and his buddies stop me.
“C’mon, man! What the hell’s wrong with you?” I demand of Mr. Choi. “I’m trying to make things right here! She’ll be miserable with a dossier husband!”
“You let her down,” Mr. Choi says, the words clipped. “And you don’t understand Korean culture. You can’t make Ms. Hae happy because you don’t know what makes her happy.”
The car takes off with her inside. My heart shrivels.
“It would be best if you don’t show up again. Nothing is going to change. Ms. Hae is returning to Korea soon. And if you show up in Seoul to harass her, things won’t end this pleasantly.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Yuna
The entire way to meet the man my mother has chosen for me, I think about the way Declan appeared in the lobby. He looked tired. Haggard, even. I don’t know why it bothers me. He’s nothing to me now. Why should I care if he’s not resting like he should?
I can’t believe he apologized for missing the party.
It’s so frustrating that he doesn’t get that it isn’t about the party. But maybe the fact that he doesn’t understand what’s really wrong is the problem. I thought he understood what I need and want, but he really doesn’t. I’ve been deluding myself because I was dazzled by him and wanted us to have a future.
But I know as well as anyone that that’s the surest way to screw up a relationship. And I don’t want to be with the wrong person and waste the best part of my youth on him. I learned early on that it’s best to get what I want, rather than sort of what I want. Every time I didn’t, I ended up regretting it, whether it was a relationship, friendship or something as inconsequential as a dress.
I try to breathe slowly to calm myself before the pointless lunch. There’s no way it will result in marriage, like my mother wants. But a promise is a promise. I can sacrifice one lousy meal to make her happy. We all have to eat, after all.
The restaurant is a bright French bistro near the UCLA campus. I make my way to a table in the corner that has a view of a small man-made pond.
The man’s in a suit—as is the custom for a matsun meeting. His black hair is neatly slicked back, showing a lean face with a firm jaw. His eyes are so dark they look almost pure black, which is a bit unusual.
He stands at the sight of me and extends a hand. “I’m Ryu Taejo.” His voice is low and slightly raspy. A smoker, possibly. “Nice to meet you.”
I pump twice firmly. “Hae Yuna. Pleasure.”
“You have a great grip.” He waits until I’m seated before sitting down himself, all polite and smooth.
“Years of playing the piano.”
“Yes, I heard about that.”
A server brings out menus and drops them off, but I don’t look at mine.
“Just so you know, I have a woman I love,” Taejo says once we’re alone.
I raise an eyebrow. “You must’ve hidden her well.” Or his family has been extremely sloppy in getting rid of her.
“It’s for the best,” he says calmly.
For the woman, no doubt. I doubt his parents would be very understanding of him falling in love with a woman who has less-than-acceptable qualifications. “So why are you here?”
“My mother insisted.” A small smile twists his lips.
“So we do have something in common.”
He laughs. “And do you have a man you love?”
Declan immediately pops into my head. If this were before last Sunday, I would’ve said yes. But now…
“No.” I forcibly shove him out of my head. But something must be wrong with my filter, because I add, “Have you ever missed her birthday? Or an anniversary?”