New Year's Eve
“Cheers. Uncle, you worked hard this year too.”
“You must’ve had a tough time studying as well.”
“It’s nothing compared to you supporting me.”
Just the two of us at the restaurant, we raise our glasses and toast each other’s accomplishments. If it were any other year… I’d probably be wasting time with the company people or Min-a.
Every past New Year’s Eve had been suffocating and dull, like a scene from a script. Year-end parties, closing ceremonies, Christmas gatherings—forced into places I never wanted to be, standing there like a decorative screen while everyone else drank and laughed. I’d pour drinks mechanically, dreading the coming year, or else spend it with Min-a, enduring the same wine and the same food paired with gifts that felt identical to last year’s. The déjà vu was so strong I worried I was repeating the same lines over and over.
“But… isn’t this place expensive? Are we going to have to live on ramen starting next year?”
When I cut the steak and place a piece on her plate, my niece asks half-jokingly, half-seriously.
“It’s not that bad, so don’t worry.”
“We shouldn’t overdo it just because it’s the end of the year.”
“If I can’t even buy my niece something nice to eat, I should’ve quit a long time ago.”
“Oh please. How could you quit? That woman would never let you.”
“……”
The words die in my throat. Especially since I have a record. Every time the topic turns to Min-a and our relationship, I’ve sighed, cried, and buried myself in my niece’s arms for comfort more times than I can count. I’ve fallen asleep countless times under the gentle weight of her hand stroking my hair. That’s how weak I am. That’s how pathetic I am. So how dare I act so confident, as if I can do whatever I want?
“It’s fine. I can support you, Uncle. Even if I just do some tutoring part-time after school, the two of us can still eat.”
While I sit there looking awkward and unable to answer, my niece tries to comfort me.
“Hey. What exactly do you think of me? No matter what, I’m not at the point where I need to rely on you.”
“I’m just saying it because I want to take care of you. Besides, there’s no one else who would look after you except me.”
Her hand comes to rest on the back of mine. Warm and soft. We’ve touched like this dozens of times already, yet the warmth never grows old. My heart feels strangely light, as if it’s floating, and I can’t seem to find my footing.
Tap, tap. She drums her fingers on my hand like piano keys, and the fork I’m holding slips from my grasp. The moment my fingers loosen, she quickly—yet without seeming rushed—takes my hand and laces our fingers together.
“Let’s not talk about her. You’re with me right now. From now on, Uncle… think only of me. Even if you talk, talk only about me. When you hold someone’s hand, hold only mine. When you eat, when you sleep—do it only with me. Only me. Just with me.”
Her gaze is intense. She doesn’t look away. I, on the other hand, feel like a mouse frozen in front of a cat.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
In the end, I manage to push her away with the most adult-sounding words I can muster. Or at least, I pretend to push her away. Pretend to ask her to let go. Pretend that this is wrong. She’s a smart girl—she already knows I’ve completely fallen for her. She must have realized by now that the woman who’s supposed to become her aunt doesn’t matter anymore.
“I’m not the one being ridiculous here, Uncle. If I started ignoring you from tomorrow, you’d be shaking in your boots.”
“……”
“Idiot. Don’t act tough. You’re already in the palm of my hand. Look.”
She smiles and lifts our joined hands in front of my eyes. Even though I could easily break free if I used any strength, I can’t bring myself to do it.
“By the way, you managed to make time for me. I guess she didn’t bother you too much?”
“Your aunt is what kind of person? She does bother me, but… since we’re going to be living together for the rest of our lives, I asked her to be considerate of you at least for this year.”
After the fight at home, Min-a had been surprisingly calm. At the company too, she didn’t show anything, simply treating me quietly and leisurely as usual. But…
[I heard you two set a wedding date? Where are you going for the honeymoon?]
[What about kids? You have to have at least one son and one daughter.]
[When are you going to look at dresses? Even if they all look the same, you have to react properly every time you try one on, or you’ll get nagged the entire wedding.]
Whatever story she told everyone, they all grab me and talk about marriage.
The decision’s already been made. Min-a is right. If she wanted me to realize something, I’ve had more than enough time. A poor matrilocal son-in-law living off a rich girl. No matter how hard I work, no matter how much I devote myself to this family, I’m still just a guy who got lucky by seducing the right woman. Everything I enjoy is thanks to Min-a loving me—so how dare I not know my place?
[Assistant Manager Kim. Use this from now on.]
Representative Choi went even further. Whatever his daughter told him, he suddenly handed me a business card with the title “Manager” printed on it.
[I was planning to give it to you anyway. If I’m going to marry my daughter off, I’d rather it be to a manager, not an assistant manager. Don’t use it right away—start using it from the month of the wedding. I’ll introduce you as Manager Kim to everyone too.]
Now do you know your place? How dare you not know your place?
Everyone chatters around me—about the wedding, about kids, about titles, about the house. In the middle of all the fuss, Min-a remains quiet and leisurely as always.
[Oppa.]
With her usual calm expression, waiting for me to break, waiting for me to submit…
[Let’s go look at dresses when you have time. We should bring your niece too.]
She forces me to my knees, makes me submit.
[I know your niece is busy, but there’s a department store right in front. As her future aunt, I should at least buy her a bag, right? She just got into university too—how could we let that pass?]
Things you can’t give me. Things I can only enjoy because I met you, because you love me.
“Let’s just eat. Stop holding hands.”
Stop thinking. It’s rare to have time alone with my niece—I can’t afford to get lost in worries and ruin it.
“I don’t want to let go.”
“How are you going to cut the meat then? Should I ask for scissors?”
“You hold the knife, Uncle. I’ll hold the fork.”
We look ridiculous—holding hands while bickering and cutting the meat.
“Uncle, get it together. You’re ruining the meat.”
“You’re the one who needs to hold the fork steady. The meat keeps moving around—how am I supposed to cut it?”
Talking with my niece is different from talking with Min-a. It’s happy. The words we exchange, the conversations we share—they’re enjoyable. I hope she feels the same happiness I do. I hope she likes spending time with me.
“We really stayed out for a long time.”
By the time we return home after eating and chatting excitedly, a lot of time has passed. We truly lost track of time. The meal we shared, the photos we took together, the clothes we looked at, the snacks we ate, the laughter.
“We should wash up and go to bed. Good kids go to sleep early and wake up early.”
We’re still holding hands tightly. We need to change clothes, need to prepare for tomorrow’s sunrise, yet neither of us moves. We just sit stupidly on the sofa, staring at our reflections on the TV screen.
“Good kids? Neither of us qualifies, so it doesn’t matter. I’m not good, and I’m not a kid either.”
“Of course you’re not good, but why aren’t you a kid? You’re still the little one in this house.”
When I pat her head, she suddenly shakes my hand off.
“Uncle. I told you not to treat me like a child.”
The sweet atmosphere between us shifts in an instant. A sharp tension fills the air.
“If you’re not a child, then what are you?”
Even though I already know. Even though I already see her as a woman. I stubbornly keep up the act—because of the filthy conscience tangled like a spiderweb in my heart. Even though it’s already in tatters. Even though I’m itching to throw it away.
“Uncle.”
She calls me.
“Do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“That thing. You probably know it too, Uncle.”
Suddenly she says something incomprehensible.
“A way to check whether you see me as a child or as a woman.”
The moment she finishes speaking, she leans in and presses her lips to mine.
“How is it? Your heart’s racing, right? There’s no way your heart would feel like it’s about to burst just from kissing a kid.”
Then she grumbles, her cheeks bright red. It’s a kiss that lasts only a moment—over before we can even feel how soft each other’s lips are. An ecstasy that ends too soon.
“Yerin.”
I call her name. Instead of answering, she stares at me. Her face is flushed so deeply that her cheeks and lips are the same color.
“You… even if I… see you… as a woman… is that okay—”
She kisses me again. This time she pushes me down. It’s different from the affectionate peck earlier. She grabs my back, presses her lips firmly against mine, and breathes heavily. Through her nose comes hot heat. Hot breath. A soft tongue. White teeth. The glistening saliva on the tip of her tongue is sweet like honey. My entire body trembles.
Time between us flows once more. My niece has turned twenty. And so, kissing, we welcomed the new year.