Jaekyeom had never been this distracted in his life.
For the past few days, the thought of marriage had consumed him—slowly at first, then all at once. It was in everything he saw, in every passing conversation. It made him hyper-aware of Yue in ways he hadn’t been before, not just as the woman he loved but as his future.
But did she see him that way?
The weight of it sat heavy in his chest as he finally saw her again, sitting across from him in a quiet café. She looked the same as always—calm, unreadable—but Jaekyeom had spent enough time with her to notice the subtleties.
Something was on her mind.
"You look distracted," Yue said before he could.
Jaekyeom let out a breathless laugh. "You look distracted."
She hummed, resting her chin on her palm. "My mother asked when I’d bring you home."
Jaekyeom nearly choked on his coffee. “She—what?”
Yue blinked at his reaction, completely unbothered. "She wants to meet you."
He stared. “…And you’re just telling me this now?”
"I thought you already knew."
Jaekyeom dragged a hand down his face. "Yue."
"What?" she said, tone dry. "You were going to meet her eventually."
"That’s not the point!" he exhaled. "That’s a huge step, and you’re acting like it’s nothing."
Yue shrugged. "It doesn’t have to be complicated."
Jaekyeom begged to differ.
And then, just as he was still reeling, she threw another bombshell at him.
"What made you start thinking about marriage?"
Jaekyeom stiffened.
He hadn’t told her. Not really.
For a second, he thought about dodging the question, playing it off. But then Yue tilted her head slightly, watching him with quiet patience.
She had already seen through him.
Jaekyeom exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. It just… got stuck in my head. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I—”
He stopped.
His hands curled against his jeans.
Yue didn’t push him. She just waited, gaze steady.
After a long silence, she said, “I never considered marriage before.”
Jaekyeom looked up, something tightening in his chest.
She was staring down at her hands, voice measured. “When I was younger, I thought people who got married were just setting themselves up for failure. My parents spent years together only to let it fall apart. And I told myself I’d never let that happen to me.”
Jaekyeom swallowed hard.
She wasn’t saying it with sadness—just certainty.
It made something ache inside him.
“But now,” Yue said, her voice quieter, “I think it might be different with us.”
Jaekyeom’s breath stopped.
She lifted her head, looking at him directly. “I want to try my best for us.”
Jaekyeom forgot how to move.
The words settled between them, heavier than anything she had ever said before.
It was different from when she told him she loved him. This—this—was Yue making a choice. A terrifying, irreversible choice.
A beat of silence.
And then—
“…Marry me.”
Jaekyeom blinked.
He stared at her, convinced he had misheard. “…What?”
Yue blinked back. “I said, marry me.”
Jaekyeom gawked. “Yue.”
“What?” she asked, completely serious.
“You—you can’t just say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m supposed to be the one asking you!”
She gave him a flat look. “Does it matter?”
“Yes!”
Yue’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you saying no?”
Jaekyeom nearly lunged forward. “Of course not!”
“Then it doesn’t matter,” she said simply.
Jaekyeom stared at her, utterly speechless.
He let out a weak, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “You’re really something else.”
Yue tilted her head. “So…?”
Jaekyeom exhaled sharply, overwhelmed.
And then, slowly, his lips curled into a small, helpless smile.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Let’s do it.”
Yue nodded, completely satisfied. “Okay.”
And just like that, they were engaged.
Jaekyeom couldn’t believe it.
But when he looked at Yue—at the certainty in her eyes, the quiet trust in her posture—he realized it didn’t matter how they got here.
All that mattered was that it was her.
____
Jaekyeom had faced countless nerve-wracking moments in his life—high-pressure business deals, media attention, even standing on massive stages during his brief modeling days—but nothing compared to this.
Sitting in Yue’s childhood home, across from her mother, he felt an entirely new kind of pressure settle in his chest. Yue’s brother sat nearby, arms crossed, watching the interaction with mild amusement. Yue, for her part, looked perfectly composed, as if this wasn’t a monumental moment.
Then, her mother finally spoke.
“You’re not as handsome as I imagined.”
Jaekyeom nearly choked on his tea. “Excuse me?”
She gave him a measured look, the same kind of quiet, analyzing gaze Yue often had. “Yue never talks about men. If she suddenly brought someone home, I expected someone… otherworldly. Like a god.”
Jaekyeom blinked. He had been complimented on his looks more times than he could count, but this? He had no idea how to respond. “I—I don’t think I can compete with a god.”
Yue’s mother sipped her tea. “A shame.”
A sharp, choked sound came from Yue’s brother, who quickly covered his mouth. Jaekyeom turned to Yue for help, but she simply hid her smirk behind her cup.
“Oh, so you do find this funny,” he muttered.
Yue shrugged, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’ll live.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before turning back to her mother. “Well, I might not be a god, but I promise I’ll take care of Yue.” His voice was steady, sincere. “I love her, and I’ll do my best to make her happy.”
For a moment, her mother said nothing. The weight of her silence was suffocating. Then, finally, she set her cup down and looked him in the eye.
“Good,” she said simply.
Jaekyeom wasn’t sure if that was approval or merely acknowledgment, but Yue reached under the table and gave his hand a small squeeze. It was enough.
Her brother, still watching, sighed. “I don’t know what surprises me more—that you actually have a boyfriend, or that he’s willingly putting up with you.”
Yue shot him a glare. “You’re still single at your age, so maybe reflect on yourself first.”
Her brother scowled. “We’re talking about you, not me—”
Jaekyeom laughed, finally relaxing a little. Yue’s family dynamics were sharp but not cold, and he could see traces of her in them—the quiet strength of her mother, the bluntness of her brother.
And then, when the conversation turned to their wedding plans, Yue’s mother simply said, “Don’t overcomplicate things. Just focus on what matters.”
Jaekyeom stole a glance at Yue, at the way she absentmindedly traced the rim of her cup, deep in thought.
Just focus on what matters.
For him, that was simple. Yue.
_____