I Want to Marry You, Teacher
"...What? His... bride?"
Jeong Dayeon's eyes went round with bewilderment.
"I'd like you to marry Siheon, Miss Dayeon. If it hadn't been for your mother, that boy would have been dead a long time ago."
"Grandfather."
Siheon tried to cut him off from the side, but Chairman Cha's voice rolled on, unhurried and even.
"Do Hee-ok had such high hopes for her child. She was certain you'd become an outstanding physician, and she wanted you to hold onto that dream until the very end. Who else in this world would receive more stable support and protection than a daughter-in-law of the Samjeong Group? Isn't that right, Siheon?"
This time the Chairman turned to Siheon as if seeking his agreement. Siheon only grew more rigid, offering no reply at all.
"I've always believed I owed Do Hee-ok a debt that would have to be repaid someday. I only learned much later that she had already passed away years ago — but isn't it only right that I repay that kindness through her child, at least?"
The Chairman's words unspooled calmly, as though he were finally setting in order a thought he had carried for a long time.
Siheon, who had been pressing at his throbbing temple, could hold back no longer.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Lost my mind? Listen to how you speak to your own grandfather."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear any of that. Besides, I've already told you I have no intention of getting married."
His deep voice pressed down on the air of the sitting room.
"You won't even grant one wish of a grandfather who hasn't much time left?"
Siheon's jaw locked shut. The Chairman had taken to pulling out that line at every opportunity, wielding it like a weapon.
He ought to have realized by now that it no longer works. So why does he keep doing this?
The two of them held their ground, the standoff stretched taut between them. Dayeon was the one who finally broke the awkward silence, her voice careful.
"I'm... all right with that."
"What?"
Siheon's gaze, which had been fixed on the Chairman, snapped toward Dayeon. The Chairman, too, turned to her with eyes bright with expectation.
"You're saying that Teacher and I should get married. Something like that. Have I understood correctly?"
"That's it. Exactly that."
The Chairman even clapped his hands in approval.
"And if you could give me a whole brood of great-grandchildren as cute as rabbits, all the better."
Dayeon nodded without the slightest hesitation.
She sat with her back perfectly straight, and there was not a tremor in her eyes. The Chairman's face lit up at the resolute will written across her features.
"You've inherited your mother's decisiveness, Miss Dayeon."
Sharp, too — and ambitious. At that brief addition, which sounded almost like praise, Dayeon ducked her head with a bashful little smile.
The Chairman beamed, his voice turning sly.
"You strike me as an excellent fit for the lady who will one day run this household."
"That's enough, Grandfather."
Siheon could no longer sit still and watch the two of them sealing some private pact right in front of him. He shoved himself up from his seat.
"I didn't go to the trouble of making time to come here just to listen to this."
I put off all my work and came all this way because he said he had something important to discuss.
He clicked his tongue and turned to leave — and there, still sitting properly on the sofa, was Dayeon, following him with nothing but her eyes.
What was she even thinking, coming here.
"We're leaving."
Siheon strode over and caught her by the wrist.
"I'm sorry, Chairman. I'll see you next time."
Even as she was being dragged away, Dayeon bowed her head in a proper farewell. That well-mannered little gesture only caught the Chairman's eye more firmly.
Do Hee-ok's daughter was bound to be clever. And now that he had met her in person — polite, personable, and rather pretty besides — she suited Siheon perfectly as a match.
"If only that boy would change his mind."
The Chairman narrowed his eyes, greed flickering in them, and drained what was left of his tea in a single gulp.
The moment they stepped outside, Siheon dropped Dayeon's hand as if flinging it away.
"Do you have any idea where you just walked into? And that answer you gave back there — do you even understand what you said?"
"Yes. I know. The Chairman told me to marry you, Teacher."
Dayeon blinked up at him, her eyes so guileless it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. A hollow laugh escaped him at that face, which looked as though it had never once been touched by the world's grit.
"Jeong Dayeon. This isn't a children's game. Do you even know what marriage is — what it is that a husband and wife actually do?"
He made his voice deliberately cold, trying to cow her. But instead of shrinking from the chill in it, she only smiled, looking faintly embarrassed.
"I know. I'm an adult now, too."
The words were barely a whisper, and Siheon was left utterly speechless. He stood there with his mouth open, and Dayeon hesitated a moment before she found the courage to go on.
It was something she had swallowed down and held back for so long. But here, now, she could finally say it.
"I could never say it out loud before, but... I've liked you for a long time, Teacher."
"......"
"So please. Marry me."
For a fleeting instant, something wavered in Siheon's eyes. Conflict flickered across his face, as though he were forcing back words that wanted to come out.
But it vanished without a trace before Dayeon could even register it. His expression hardened in a single breath, his brow drawing tight as if in anger.
"That isn't something you say so easily."
"I know that. And I didn't agree just because I have feelings for you. If things stay like this, I... I might not even be able to stay in university."
Dayeon knew now, with certainty, that Jung Dusup had not given a single thought to her tuition. Even when she came home late at night, he never worried for his daughter. The only thing waiting for her was a bullying text, informing her that he would be setting another date with President Go, and that she'd better know her place.
If she went on like this, the road ahead was not the one that made her a doctor. It was the one that sold her off to President Go.
"If I had the Samjeong Group's support, the way the Chairman said, I'd be able to stay in school."
"Support is possible without a marriage."
"No one hands over that kind of money for no reason."
Dayeon was not quite so naive as she seemed. Even a family with money to burn would need a reason to pour that much of it into a single person. And even if the money did come, there was no guarantee Jung Dusup wouldn't snatch it away.
"You're telling me you'll marry someone you know nothing about?"
"Then tell me. Starting now."
It was true she knew almost nothing about him. And it was just as true that, right now, he wanted a marriage about as much as he wanted a hole in the head.
The boldness drained out of her, and she swallowed the rest of her words, fidgeting.
Even so, Siheon's expression showed no sign of softening.
"I'll find another way to repay Dr. Do Hee-ok. As for the marriage talk — forget you ever heard it."
The cold voice came down like a blade.
"I don't have the luxury of harboring feelings like that."
A gust of wind chose that moment to brush Dayeon's cheek, leaving behind a sensation as sharp and icy as frost against her chest.
It was a long time before she understood that the feeling of her heart freezing over had nothing to do with the wind, and everything to do with his unflinching refusal.
Dayeon wandered the streets until dawn, and only when Jung Dusup's snoring was loud enough to hear from outside did she ease the front door open.
Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, the state of the room was a wreck. Jung Dusup had drunk himself to sleep and was sprawled out like a starfish, four soju bottles scattered around him, along with dried squid legs and peanuts that had spilled across the floor.
Dayeon gathered up the bottles and set them silently against the wall, tidied the floor in a rough pass, and crept into her own room.
A desk. A wardrobe. A bedroll folded up in the corner. That was the whole of the tiny space.
She huddled down in the unlit corner and drew her knees in.
Too much had happened in a single day.
The Chairman of the Samjeong Group had known her mother. And it had not been a passing acquaintance. He had been grateful enough to remember her even after her death — grateful enough to want to repay the debt.
What kind of person was Mom, really?
Dayeon found herself reaching back toward the childhood she had shared with Hee-ok. Her mother had always been busy, always looked exhausted — and yet, for Dayeon, she had always managed a bright smile.
That had been the whole of the mother she knew. But after listening to the Chairman today, it occurred to her that there must have been so many more sides to her that she had never seen.
After a moment lost in thought, Dayeon opened the desk drawer and drew out an old photograph.
The woman in the picture was young, and she was smiling with her whole face.
"...Mom."
Dayeon traced the photo with her fingertips and smiled, small and private.
Meeting the Chairman, hearing stories about her mother, learning that her mother had saved Teacher's life, confessing to him and being turned down — all of it felt unreal, as insubstantial as a dream.
"Today was a really weird day."
The mutter had barely left her when the Chairman's words rose suddenly in her ear.
Heat pricked behind Dayeon's eyes. She clutched the photograph to her chest.
"You were worrying about me until the very end, weren't you."
She looked down at the picture and murmured,
"Is that why you left me that phone number? Because you were afraid I'd end up unhappy?"
Even her mother couldn't have known that the Chairman would tell her to marry Teacher — or that she would be rejected like this.
But that was all right. She had never planned on giving up easily anyway.
So what if she'd been turned down. Big deal.
They had only just found each other again, if she thought about it.
She was not going to give up. One way or another, she would hear the words let's get married come out of Teacher's own mouth.
Dayeon made the vow as calmly as she could, and buried her face between her knees.