The Unspoken Price
The restaurant the father and daughter mentioned was exactly as expected—flashy, noisy enough to scramble your thoughts, and absurdly overpriced. If I were alone, the sheer greed of the place would’ve kept me from ever returning. Complaining, whining, unable to gracefully accept even a free meal—that’s the petty, pathetic tantrum of a poor man. Of course, I know my place. I only grumbled inside my head and waited quietly like a loyal dog for whatever scraps they might toss my way.
“Still, at least I know a place like this exists now.” If I brought Yerin here, she’d like it. Girls her age would be thrilled. The glittering interior made it perfect for photos, and Min-a was glued to my side, tapping away at her phone shutter.
Honestly… the one who really needs nourishment isn’t me, but my niece. She only ever goes between school and home; she must need a change of pace. Maybe some fresh air, too.
“The meat here is really tender and good. Don’t hold back—eat up.”
“Yes, enjoy your meal. Min-a, eat plenty too.”
“You too, Oppa. Dad, eat well.”
After the usual fuss, a lavish spread was laid out. It was worth the price, at least. A few bites in and it tasted excellent. I could bring my niece here without shame. I’d tell her Uncle deliberately picked a nice place just for her.
“By the way, Assistant Manager Kim. Min-a mentioned you’re looking after your niece.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“It’s admirable, of course. We all know you’re a good man—nothing like people these days. Still, as a father sending his daughter off to marry, it’s… a bit much.”
‘Of course.’ So that was why they’d invited me to lunch. Using her father’s mouth to probe my intentions. Min-a kept her eyes down, calmly slicing meat.
“Now that I think about it, is the delayed marriage because you’re taking care of your niece?”
“No. I’d already planned for next year.”
“Good. Since I know you’re responsible, I’ll assume you’re simply taking your time to make my daughter happier. But taking care of a niece is another matter entirely.”
“……”
“I understand the circumstances are difficult, but it’s practically the same as having a child of your own. Can’t the in-laws look after the niece?”
“She feels awkward around her grandmother… so we decided I’d take care of her for now.”
“Even if I can sympathize, having a niece living in a newlywed home seems inconvenient no matter how you look at it. Or perhaps we could get her a place nearby.”
“The child struggles being alone, especially after everything that happened. I don’t want to leave her by herself either.”
They were circling the issue, but the demand was clear: decide exactly how long I intended to keep the niece.
“This is tricky. Min-a, what do you think?”
“Well… Oppa’s opinion matters most, but honestly, having a niece in the newlywed home is…”
“Exactly. Or just stamp the marriage papers already.”
“Why rush? It’ll happen when the time comes.”
“There’s a world of difference between a daughter’s boyfriend and a daughter’s husband. Even if I want to entrust Assistant Manager Kim with important work, if he’s not yet my son-in-law, there are complications.”
Representative Choi stroked his chin—the same habit he showed in meetings when an idea didn’t sit right.
“For the record, Dad doesn’t allow DINK. You need to have plenty of children.”
“How many, exactly?”
“At minimum… one daughter, one son. Or two daughters and one son?”
“Three kids?”
“You’re both still young. I wanted to make Min-a a doctor, but she takes after me too much—too much of a business mind. She can’t sit still; she has to charge forward.”
Stud horse? Loyal dog? Butler? Secretary? Maybe all of them. What they wanted from me. Whether my seed was superior or inferior, at least they liked it. If life grew in Min-a’s belly, I might finally have some value. Producing grandchildren to glorify the Choi family. Doing my best so they could carry on the family legacy.
“Right. If you have three, one becomes a doctor, one a prosecutor, and one joins our business.”
“Honestly, Dad, do you really think you can decide that? Look at your own daughter—you wanted a doctor, but she’s working under you now.”
“That’s exactly why you need a plan. Modern mothers are so ambitious these days.”
“I have no intention of fussing over children who haven’t even been born yet. Right, Assistant Manager?”
“…… Yeah.”
‘Was I always this bad at joining their conversations?’ Ever since my sister’s funeral. Ever since I decided to take care of my niece. For some reason, I couldn’t fit into their talk anymore. Even if my role had always been that of a borrowed barley sack, why did their words grate on me so much? Why did they treat my family—the niece I’d sworn to protect—like an obstacle? Why couldn’t I get angry? Why could I only sit and listen? Everything felt uncomfortable and irritating. Just like yesterday, I wanted to complain to my niece about everything that happened today. What was wearing me down, and what would wear me down next. I wanted to lean into her embrace, pour it all out, and hear her encouragement. You worked hard. Uncle always does his best.
My hand, toying with the meat, stopped.
“What’s wrong? You’re not eating.”
“It’s fine. Maybe the breakfast hasn’t digested yet—my stomach fills up quickly.”
“Young people should eat heartily. We should’ve gone to a tail soup place instead for peace of mind.”
I couldn’t tell them the truth, so I made excuses. I might get indigestion; I’d have to buy digestive medicine on the way home. Worthless conversation, an uncomfortable atmosphere, and the thought of Min-a’s inevitable whining later—everything was exhausting.
“Anyway, we’ll set the wedding date for next year for sure. What about the niece?”
“Oppa and I will take care of her, of course.”
“Will that be all right?”
“What if the niece says no? By the way, Oppa’s niece is extremely strict about titles. No matter how many times I tell her to call me ‘unni,’ she keeps calling me ‘sungmo.’”
Her words carried thorns. She wasn’t praising the child for being mature—she was complaining that things weren’t going her way. The women in our house were exceptionally good at needling Min-a’s mood.
‘Then aren’t you the one who needs permission from the niece?’ After marrying her uncle, would she be allowed to live with us? You shouldn’t decide for her just because she isn’t here or because she’s young.
“That’s right. The niece is doing well. Even with close relations, titles should be used accurately.”
“What? Even Dad cares about that?”
She’d expected her father to side with her, but his reaction disappointed her, and Min-a’s temper flared. Representative Choi, however, only pushed further.
“Assistant Manager Kim’s niece… she must be smart. Have you thought about her future path?”
“… Yes?”
“Why, didn’t Min-a tell you? Let’s set up a scholarship. Mutual benefit. If your niece becomes a doctor or a judge later, we benefit too. Or if she graduates from engineering school and joins our company.”
For a moment, I was so stunned I let out a foolish sound. They’d already figured out how to make use of even my niece.
“I plan to let the niece do whatever she wants.”
Fortunately, I came to my senses and said what needed to be said.
“Whatever she wants? What if she says she wants to draw or make music?”
“Then we let her. If that’s what she wants.”
“Aw, come on. That stuff is useless. Arts degrees won’t help anyone. And the cost—do you know how much money it takes? Even people I know…”
“Who knows. The child hasn’t even decided what she wants yet.”
Another prejudiced monologue was about to begin from Representative Choi’s mind. Normally I would’ve smiled and flattered along, but today was different. I didn’t want to match the rhythm of something pointless, so I cut it off.
“I have work, so I’ll be going first.”
I fished the car keys from my pocket, left them on the table, and walked out lightly. I could hear the father and daughter talking behind me, but I chose to ignore it.
‘Has the niece eaten yet?’
Kwang—a surprised puppy emoticon arrived from Yerin.