Dinner had been relatively uneventful. Seung-Bae wasn’t sure what he had expected: an exchange of pre-marital demands, a barrage of interview questions examining his qualifications as a son-in-law, or the entrance of an MC to officiate a shot-gun style engagement ceremony, but none of these things occurred.

Instead, the elders indulged in light and languid small talk over the traditional Korean meal while Bo-Ra eyed him coolly from across the table. Her long brown hair hung in soft waves around the dove grey and pink tweed of her suit jacket. Beneath she wore a gauzy white blouse that bunched then blossomed at her wrists as if her delicate hands were framed by the soft petals of a lotus flower.

She was beautiful, her features still small and doll-like, with the aloof air of a sophisticated and intelligent young woman. Part of him was pleased to see her again, to remember the sweet, childish emotions he’d had for her so long ago and to satisfy his curiosity. It gave him a feeling of closure to an old wound.

Physically she’d changed, her body matured and her nose looked suspiciously thinner, but her mannerisms were familiar. She ate with the same efficient intensity that she’d ruled their primary school lunchroom with, and for a moment he stilled, his inner child expecting hers to demand that he surrender his dessert.

When he was finally addressed, it caught him unprepared.

“So, Seung-Bae, I hear from your father that you plan to attend Stanford in the fall term?” President Choi asked.

One of Seung-Bae’s chopsticks slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the table. Blushing, he quickly retrieved it.

“That’s right,” his father answered for him. “Our Seung-Bae will be living with his aunt. Her family has a lovely home in Palo Alto.”

“That’s wonderful,” Madame Kang cut in. “You can look after our Bo-Ra. She’s also a business major, you know. Perhaps you’ll be attending some of the same classes.”

Seung-Bae glanced up at Bo-Ra. She looked annoyed by the conversation, and instead of confirming and expanding on her mother’s comment, she focused on her food.

“I hear you’re a musician,” Madam Kang continued. “You must play for us after dinner, Seung-Bae. I’m an avid supporter of the arts, you know. I’d love to hear you perform.”

His father chuckled uncomfortably. “Ah yes. Music is Seung-Bae’s hobby.”

“I wish our Bo-Ra had a hobby.” Madame Kang turned towards her daughter and pouted. “She’s so serious all the time.”

Bo-Ra reached for her water glass. “I don’t have time for frivolous hobbies, Eomma. I am the only heir. Preparing myself to run our companies is my entire focus.”

At the head of the table, President Choi angrily cleared his throat. “Preparing to give me a healthy grandson should be your entire focus,” he grumbled.

Madame Kang gaped at him in horror. “Yeobo,” she hissed. “Not in front of company!”

Bo-Ra pushed her chair back from the table and dabbed her napkin to her lips. “I think I’ve had enough.” She smiled graciously. “I think I’d like a walk in the garden. Kim Seung-Bae, would you join me?”

Seung-Bae nodded, then rose and, bowing his thanks for the meal, followed her.