The invitation arrived on a Tuesday morning.
Kyrah was reviewing the latest HANEUL HOME projections when Seojun appeared at her office door.
"Do you have a moment?"
She looked up from her laptop. "For you? Always. Is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong." He stepped inside. "My father would like to meet with you."
Her fingers stopped moving.
"Your father?"
"Chairman Park."
Kyrah stared at him.
She had met his mother. She had eaten dinner in their beautiful home, laughed at childhood photographs of Seojun, and experienced a warmth she hadn't expected to find in a stranger's family.
But his father?
That was an entirely different matter.
"Why?"
"He has been reviewing the HANEUL HOME reports. He wants to discuss the project's next phase with you."
Kyrah straightened in her chair.
"Professionally?"
"Professionally."
She searched his face.
"You're sure?"
Seojun raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer that he summon you to discuss something else?"
"Seojun!"
He smiled faintly.
"I'm certain, Kyrah. He wants to hear from the person leading the project."
She exhaled.
"When?"
"Eleven o'clock."
She glanced at the clock.
"That's in twenty minutes!"
"I know."
"And you're telling me now?"
"I didn't want you spending the entire morning worrying about it."
She stared at him.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do now."
Seojun chuckled.
Then his expression softened.
"Listen to me. My father can be intimidating. He expects people to know what they're talking about, and he doesn't appreciate evasive answers."
"You're making me feel so much better."
"But he respects competence. You know this project better than anyone else in that building. Don't walk into that room trying to impress him. Just tell him what you've built."
Kyrah studied him.
"And if he doesn't like what he hears?"
"Then he'll tell you."
She laughed nervously.
"You're terrible at reassurance."
"I'm being honest."
He moved toward the door, then paused.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"Don't let the fact that he's my father make you forget that you're the project head."
Kyrah looked at him.
Something about the way he said it steadied her.
She nodded.
"All right."
Seojun smiled.
"I'll see you upstairs."
---
At eleven o'clock, Kyrah stood outside the chairman's office.
The executive floor was different from the rest of the building.
The atmosphere was more formal. The conversations were subdued, and everyone seemed to move with a particular sense of purpose.
She adjusted her blazer and glanced at the folder in her hands.
HANEUL HOME.
She had spent months building this project.
She knew its strengths, its weaknesses, its financial projections, and the challenges that still needed to be addressed.
She knew what she wanted it to become.
She could do this.
The secretary opened the door.
"Miss Kim, Chairman Park is ready for you."
Kyrah stepped inside.
Chairman Park sat behind an expansive dark wooden desk, reviewing a document. His suit was immaculate, his silver-streaked hair neatly arranged, and his expression unreadable.
He didn't immediately look up.
"Miss Kim."
"Good morning, Chairman Park."
He placed the document down and finally met her eyes.
"Please, sit."
Kyrah sat.
He studied her for a moment.
Not rudely.
Not with curiosity about her personal life.
It was the measured attention of a man accustomed to evaluating people before deciding how much of his time they deserved.
"You're leading HANEUL HOME."
"Yes, sir."
"Your team has made considerable progress."
"Thank you."
He opened a folder.
"Your latest report projects a substantial increase in adoption over the next two years. Explain what makes you confident in that forecast."
Kyrah took a breath.
"The projected growth is based on three factors. First, we're moving beyond a product that simply automates household functions. HANEUL HOME is designed to learn how people use their homes and respond to their routines."
She opened her folder.
"Second, our local processing architecture allows many functions to operate with reduced latency without requiring every interaction to travel to the cloud. That improves responsiveness and gives users greater control over their data."
Chairman Park listened without interrupting.
"Third, the system is designed to work across different household needs. We aren't building something that only appeals to people who want the newest technology. We're building something that can make everyday life easier."
"And your competitors?"
"They're investing heavily in similar features. We can't assume that being first will protect us. Our advantage has to come from reliability, user experience, and the trust we build with customers."
Chairman Park leaned back slightly.
"Trust."
"Yes, sir."
"An expensive word in this industry."
Kyrah nodded.
"Which is why I believe it has to be part of the product from the beginning. People are allowing technology into their homes. They need to understand what it collects, how it works, and what happens to their information."
He looked down at the report.
"Your team has identified a weakness in the current adoption forecast."
"Yes. We need more data from households outside our initial testing group. The current projections may be too optimistic if we don't account for differences in user behavior."
"Then why did you submit them?"
Kyrah met his gaze.
"Because they're projections based on the data we currently have, not guarantees. I've recommended another round of testing before we commit to the next expansion target."
For the first time, Chairman Park's expression changed.
It was slight.
But she noticed.
"You're willing to revise your own forecast?"
"I'm willing to revise anything that isn't supported by the evidence."
He closed the folder.
"And if the additional testing delays the launch?"
"Then we'll have to decide whether the delay is worth the risk. But I would rather explain a delay than defend a promise we had no reason to make."
Silence settled over the office.
Kyrah resisted the urge to fidget.
Chairman Park looked at her for several seconds.
Then he stood.
"Show me the next phase."
Kyrah opened her laptop and began explaining the expansion plan.
She spoke about the next round of testing, the improvements her engineers were developing, and the partnerships they hoped to establish.
She discussed the challenges of scaling the system, the importance of maintaining security, and the need to ensure that the technology remained accessible to ordinary households.
As she spoke, her nervousness gradually disappeared.
She wasn't Seojun's friend.
She wasn't a pregnant woman hoping to be treated kindly.
She was the person responsible for HANEUL HOME.
And she knew exactly what she was talking about.
When she finished, Chairman Park remained silent for a moment.
Then he closed the laptop.
"You're ambitious."
Kyrah smiled faintly.
"I believe the project deserves ambition."
"Ambition without discipline can become expensive."
"I agree."
"Good."
He walked around the desk.
"Your team speaks highly of you. The reports I've reviewed suggest that you understand both the technical and commercial sides of this project."
"Thank you, sir."
He paused beside the window.
"Your greatest challenge may not be the technology itself. It may be learning when to trust the people you've placed around you."
Kyrah thought of Flora, Xiumin, and Youning.
"I've been working on that."
"Have you?"
"Yes. I used to believe that if I didn't personally oversee every detail, something would go wrong. I'm learning that leadership means building a team capable of handling things without me standing over their shoulders."
Chairman Park turned toward her.
"And what happens when you aren't available?"
Kyrah understood the question.
She rested her hands on her lap.
"Then the team continues. We've been documenting our processes, assigning clear responsibilities, and making sure no single person is the only one who understands a critical part of the project."
He nodded once.
"That is how a business survives beyond its founder."
Kyrah felt a flicker of pride.
"That's what I'm trying to build."
Chairman Park returned to his desk.
"Very well. I have what I need."
She stood.
"Thank you for your time, Chairman Park."
He extended his hand.
"Continue the work, Miss Kim."
She shook his hand.
"I will."
As she turned toward the door, he spoke again.
"Miss Kim."
She looked back.
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't let anyone convince you that a successful project is an accident."
Kyrah blinked.
He continued, his voice firm.
"You have earned your position. Make certain you remember that."
For a moment, she couldn't find the words.
Then she bowed her head slightly.
"I will. Thank you."
She walked out of the office with her heart beating faster than it had when she entered.
---
Seojun was waiting near the elevators.
The moment he saw her, he straightened.
"How did it go?"
Kyrah released a breath.
"I think I'm still alive."
He smiled.
"That sounds promising."
"Your father is terrifying."
"He's not terrifying."
"Seojun, he looked at me like he could calculate my entire future from a single spreadsheet."
Seojun laughed.
Kyrah shook her head.
"He asked me about everything. The projections, the technology, the expansion plan. I thought I was going to forget how to speak."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Then you did well."
She looked at him.
"How do you know?"
"Because I know you."
Something warm moved through her chest.
Before she could respond, the chairman's office door opened.
Chairman Park stepped out.
Seojun immediately straightened.
"Father."
Chairman Park glanced at Kyrah.
"Miss Kim."
"Chairman Park."
He looked at Seojun.
"You chose the right person to lead this."
Kyrah froze.
Seojun's expression remained composed, but pride flickered in his eyes.
"I know."
Chairman Park gave a brief nod.
"See that she has the resources she needs. I want the revised projections before the next board review."
"I'll make sure they're ready," Seojun replied.
Chairman Park turned and walked toward the conference room.
Kyrah watched him go.
Then she looked at Seojun.
"Did that just happen?"
Seojun smiled.
"It did."
"Your father just praised me."
"He did."
"In front of you."
"Yes, Kyrah."
She let out a small laugh.
"I think I need a moment."
Seojun studied her face.
"You worked hard for that."
The simple statement made her smile fade into something softer.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not making me feel like I had to prove myself to you before I could prove myself to him."
Seojun's expression changed.
"Kyrah, you never needed to prove yourself to me."
She looked away.
He continued gently.
"I wanted my father to see what I see when I watch you work. But whether he approves or not, you were already capable before you walked into that room."
Her throat tightened.
She hadn't expected those words to mean so much.
"You're making it very difficult to stay annoyed with you."
"Is that what you were trying to do?"
"Possibly."
He laughed.
"Come on. I'll walk you back."
They headed toward the elevators.
After a moment, Kyrah spoke.
"Your father is different from what I expected."
"How?"
"I thought he'd ask about the baby."
Seojun glanced at her.
"Why would he?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know. I suppose I'm used to people deciding what they think of me before they even listen to what I have to say."
Seojun's expression grew serious.
"That won't happen here."
Kyrah looked at him.
He held her gaze.
"Not in my family. Not because you're pregnant. Not because of your past."
She swallowed.
"Your mother said something similar."
"Then she's right."
Kyrah looked toward the elevator doors.
For the first time in a long while, she felt as if she could simply exist without having to defend every part of herself.
And that feeling was more precious than she knew how to explain.
---
That evening, Kyrah sat at her desk, staring at the photograph on her phone.
It was a picture Linda had taken during their first week in Hong Kong.
Kyrah was laughing, her head tilted back, with the city lights behind her.
She looked happy.
She looked free.
And for a moment, she remembered the woman she had been before everything fell apart.
The woman who had believed that love meant sacrifice.
The woman who had thought that if she tried hard enough, she could make someone choose her.
She remembered the day Jinyoung had looked at her and denied the child growing inside her.
She remembered the shame she had felt when his family treated her pregnancy like a problem that needed to be removed from their lives.
She remembered the pressure to obey.
To understand.
To accept what was being decided for her.
And she remembered leaving.
For a long time, she had wondered whether she had made the right choice.
Now, sitting in the office she had worked so hard to earn, she finally understood something.
The Park family wasn't asking her to become someone else.
Mrs. Park welcomed her without demanding an explanation for her circumstances.
Chairman Park evaluated her work without reducing her to her pregnancy.
And Seojun?
He had never asked her to become less complicated so that caring for her would be easier.
They were giving her space to be herself.
Her phone buzzed.
Seojun: Did you get home safely?
Kyrah smiled.
Kyrah: I'm still at the office.
His reply came almost immediately.
Seojun: I thought we agreed you were going to stop staying late.
Kyrah: I'm finishing one thing.
Seojun: How many things have you finished since you said that?
She laughed.
Kyrah: You're becoming very annoying.
Seojun: I've been told.
A second message appeared.
Seojun: Go home, Kyrah. The project will still be there tomorrow.
She looked at the screen.
Then she typed.
Kyrah: Thank you for today.
Seojun: You don't have to thank me.
Kyrah: I know. I still wanted to.
A moment passed.
Seojun: I'm glad you came into my life.
Kyrah stared at the message.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She wanted to say something equally honest.
Something that would explain how much his presence had begun to mean to her.
But the words frightened her.
So she settled for the truth she could manage.
Kyrah: Goodnight, Seojun.
Seojun: Goodnight, Kyrah. Get some rest.
She put the phone down.
Then she rested a hand on her stomach.
"Your father is going to have to wait a little longer, Peppa," she whispered.
She paused.
"No. Not your father."
She smiled sadly.
"Your father."
Jinyoung would always be Peppa's biological father.
But that didn't mean he still belonged in her life.
And it certainly didn't mean she wanted to return to the world she had left behind.
For the first time, she didn't miss it.
Not even a little.
---
SEOUL — THE WEIGHT OF REGRET
Jinyoung's mother had begun to notice the changes.
At first, she had dismissed them as exhaustion.
Her son had always worked hard. He had always been ambitious, determined to prove that he deserved the position he held in the company.
But lately, something was different.
He was coming home later.
Sometimes, he didn't come home at all.
When he did, his clothes carried the smell of alcohol.
His eyes were tired.
His temper was shorter.
And whenever she asked about work, he gave her the same answer.
"I'm fine."
She knew he wasn't.
One evening, she found him in the living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
His tie was loose, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his phone lay faceup on the table.
He was staring at the screen.
"Jinyoung."
He didn't look up.
"Mother."
She approached him.
"Have you eaten?"
"No."
"Then I'll ask the kitchen to prepare something."
"I'm not hungry."
She looked at the glass.
"How much have you had?"
He took another sip.
"Not much."
"Jinyoung."
He finally looked at her.
"What?"
"You're drinking too much."
He gave a humorless laugh.
"Is that what we're discussing tonight?"
"What else should we discuss?"
"Nothing."
He reached for his phone.
She noticed the photograph on the screen.
Kyrah.
Her son was staring at a picture of the woman he had abandoned.
His mother felt something tighten in her chest.
"You're still thinking about her."
Jinyoung's expression hardened.
"Don't."
"I'm your mother. I can see what's happening to you."
"Then stop looking."
"Jinyoung—"
"Please."
The word came out harsher than he intended.
She fell silent.
He rubbed his face.
"I'm sorry."
She sat across from him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she asked the question she had been afraid to ask.
"Do you still love her?"
Jinyoung stared at the glass.
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
His mother closed her eyes.
She had known.
But hearing it aloud made the truth impossible to ignore.
"How long?"
He laughed bitterly.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
He leaned back.
"Since before I married Mi Rae."
His mother looked at him.
"Then why did you marry her?"
Jinyoung's jaw tightened.
"You know why."
"I know what I wanted for you."
"And I did what you wanted."
The words struck her harder than he intended.
She stared at him.
"Jinyoung..."
"You wanted a marriage that would protect the family. You wanted someone whose name would strengthen the company. You wanted me to stop thinking about Kyrah."
"I wanted you to have a secure future."
"And I wanted Kyrah."
His voice cracked.
He looked away.
"I wanted her, Mother."
The room fell silent.
His mother lowered her eyes.
For years, she had convinced herself that she was guiding her son toward a better life.
She had believed that love could be set aside for the sake of responsibility.
That a marriage could be built on compatibility, family expectations, and practical decisions.
She had believed that Kyrah was a distraction.
A complication.
Someone who would eventually become a distant memory.
But her son was sitting in front of her, drinking himself into misery over the woman he had been forced to leave behind.
And the woman he had married was suffering too.
"Does Mi Rae know?" she asked.
Jinyoung let out a bitter laugh.
"Of course she knows."
His mother flinched.
"She knows I love Kyrah."
"And you still treat her this way?"
He looked at her sharply.
"What do you want me to do? Pretend everything is fine?"
"I want you to remember that Mi Rae is a person too."
He stared at her.
She continued, her voice trembling.
"She didn't deserve to be married to a man who spends every night wishing he had married someone else."
Jinyoung looked down.
For once, he had no argument.
His mother reached for his hand.
"Son, I never wanted this for you."
He pulled his hand away.
"Then why did you push me into it?"
She froze.
The question hung between them.
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because she had no answer that could undo what had happened.
Jinyoung stood.
"I'm going to bed."
"Jinyoung, please."
He stopped.
She looked up at him, her eyes wet.
"Have I made a terrible mistake?"
He stared at her.
For a moment, he looked like the boy she used to comfort after a difficult day.
Then his expression hardened again.
"Yes, Mother."
Her breath caught.
He looked away.
"And I made an even bigger one."
He walked out of the room.
His mother remained on the sofa, staring at the empty space where he had been.
For the first time, she allowed herself to consider that the marriage she had pushed him toward might have been the biggest mistake of her life.
And perhaps the most painful part was knowing that her son had made his own choices too.
She could not take responsibility for every cruel thing he had done.
But she could no longer pretend her decisions had not helped create the circumstances in which those choices were made.