Proposal from a dear friend

Park Shin Hye, being highborn and well-bred, knew that she should be very grateful indeed when she received her fifth (and likely final) proposal of marriage.

She knew that half of Seoul would think she was luckiest girl in the country is she was to accept Jung Ha Neul’s proposal and obviously they would also want her to get on one knee and thank him and her maker for the very kind and exceedingly generous offer. After all, he was handsome, friendly, and wealthy beyond limit—a rare combination of traits for a not-so-young woman with a broken engagement and only a handful of suitors in her past.

She also knew that her Abeoji, who had no doubt blessed the match at some point prior to this moment, liked him. The head of the so called ‘Royal’ Park family had liked “That Jung Ha Neul boy” since the day he became her best friend.

The kind of man that Shin Hye had always thought her Abeoji would have liked for his own son. If, of course, he’d had a son, instead of three daughters.

And then there was the fact that Ha Neul would someday be a president of South Korea—a wealthy one, at that. Shin Hye could imagine her Omma’s thoughts right now. Beggars cannot be choosers, Shin Hye-ah.

She knew all this.

Which was why, when she met the warm brown gaze of this boy-turned-man she’d known all her life, this dear friend, she realized that this was absolutely the most generous offer of marriage she would ever receive, and she should say yes.

Except she didn’t.

Instead, she said, “Why?”

The silence that followed the words was punctuated by a dramatic “What does she think she is doing?” from beyond the living room door, and Ha Neul’s gaze filled with amusement and not a little bit of surprise as he came to his feet.

“Why not?” he replied, companionably, adding after a moment, “We’ve been friends since childhood; we enjoy each other’s company; I’ve need of a wife; you’ve need of a husband.”

As reasons for marrying went, they weren’t terrible ones. Nevertheless, “We’ve been friends since childhood, Ha Neul-ah as you said. But you’ve had all that time to show interest in me. Why now?”

He had the grace to look chagrined before he smiled, looking not a small bit like a Water Dog. “That’s true. And I haven’t a good excuse for waiting except . . . well, I’m happy to say I’ve come to my senses, Shin Hye-ah.”

She smiled back at him. “Yah, you’ll never come to your senses. Why me?” she pressed. “Why now, Ha Neul?”

When he laughed at the question, it wasn’t his great, booming, friendly laugh. It was a nervous laugh. The one he always laughed when he did not wish to answer the question. “It’s time to settle down,” he said, before cocking his head to one side, smiling broadly, and continuing, “Ah come on, Shin Hye-ah. Let’s make a go of it, shall we?”

She had received four previous offers of marriage and imagined countless other proposals will to come. She’d imagined professions of love and undying passion, profusions of her favourite flower, blankets spread lovingly across a field of wild daisies, and the crisp taste of champagne on her tongue as all of Seoul raised their glasses to her happiness. The feel of her fiancé’s arms around her as she tossed herself into his embrace and sighed, Yes . . . Yes!

They were all fantasy—each more unlikely than the last—she knew. After all, a twenty-eight-year-old single woman who is the face of the most prestige family in Korean can’t afford to have that type of fantasy.

But surely she was not out of line to hope for something more than, Let’s make a go of it, shall we?

She let out a little sigh, not wanting to upset Ha Neul, who was very clearly doing his best. But they’d been friends for so long, and Shin Hye doesn’t want to introduce lies to their friendship now. “You’re taking pity on me, aren’t you?”

His eyes went wide. “What? Ani! Andwe Shin hye-ah. Why would you say such a thing?”

She smiled. “Because it’s true. You pity your friend. And you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness to be certain that I marry and save the ‘Royal’ family status or maybe save me from the hungry reporters that chases after every movement I make.”

He gave her an exasperated look—the kind of look that only one very dear friend could give another—and he lifted her hands in his and caressed it. “Ani-yo Shin hye-ah It’s time I marry. You’re a good friend.” He paused, chagrin flashing in a friendly way that made it impossible to be annoyed with him. “I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”

She couldn’t help herself. She smiled. “De pabo-ah. You have. You’re supposed to profess undying love.”

He looked skeptical. “Flowers and all that?”

The smile became a grin. “Exactly. And perhaps write me a poem.”

“O, fair Lady Shin Hye-ah . . . Do please consider marrying me?”

She laughed. He always made her laugh. He was truly a good friend.. “YAH! Are you making fun of me?”

He feigned a grimace. “I don’t suppose I could buy you a puppy? Name it the Lady P?”

“Very romantic,” she said smiling back.

There was a pause as they enjoyed each other’s company before he said, suddenly very serious, “Please, Shin Hye. Let me protect you.”

It was an odd thing to say, but he’d failed at all the other parts of the marriage proposal process, so she did not linger on the words.

Instead, she considered the offer. Seriously.

He was her oldest friend. One of them, at least.

The one who hadn’t left her.

He made her laugh, and she was very, very fond of him. He was the only man who hadn’t utterly deserted her after her disastrous broken engagement. Surely that alone recommended him.

She should say yes.

Say it, Shin Hye.

She should become Mrs Jung, Maybe even become wife of president in the future.

Say it: Arrasoo I’ll marry you. How lovely of you to ask.

She should.

But she didn’t.

--------------------------

The sound of the great oak door closing behind Ha Neul was still echoing through the entryway of Park’s Manor when Mrs. Park appeared on the first-floor landing, one flight up from where Shin Hye stood.

“PARK SHIN HYE! What have you done?” She came tearing down the wide central staircase of the house, followed by Shin Hye’s sisters, Yoo Bi and Yoo Jung.

Shin Hye took a deep breath and turned to face her mother. “Nothing omma,” she said, casually, heading for the dining room, knowing her mother would follow. “Though, I was planning to go shopping but haven’t decided yet since there is a possibility that I would be on the headline of tomorrow’s news. Royal forever single daughter caught buying black y lingerie.” She sat down at the dining chair. “Aigo! That would be embarrassing wouldn’t it, so I’m staying home”

Yoo Jung chuckled. Mrs. Park did not.

“I don’t care a bit about what lingerie you going to buy or if you going to appear on the tomorrow’s news because of it!” Mrs. Park said, the pitch of her voice rising in tune with her anxiety.

“You don’t care? Ah that hurts Omma!” Shin Hye replied faking a hurt expression as her Abeoji entered the dining room wearing his hunting clothes. “Good evening, Abeoji. Did you have a good day?”

“Aish, it’s cold out there,” Mr.Park replied, not looking her way as he took out his phone and sat down.

Shin Hye thought perhaps her father wasn’t at all ready for the commotion that her mother is going to cause in a minute. Across the table, her sisters, both wide-eyed and curious. She feigned innocence, unfolding her napkin.

“Park Shin Hye!” Mrs. Park stood just inside the door to the dining room, stick straight, her hands clenched in little fists, confusing the maid, frozen in uncertainty, wondering if dinner should be served or not. “Jung Ha Neul proposed!”

“Eo? De, Omma. I know since I was there when he did,” Shin Hye said.

This time, Yoo Jung lifted her glass to hide her smirk.

“Yeobo!” Mrs. Park decided she required additional support. “Jung Ha Neul proposed to our Shin Hye!”

He lowered his paper. “Did he? I always liked that boy.” Turning his attention to his eldest daughter, he said, “So it went well Shin Hye-ah?”

She took a deep breath. “Not really, Abeoji.”

“She did not accept!” The pitch at which her Omma spoke was appropriate only for the most heartbreaking of mourning.  

Mrs. Park approached the table, her skin terribly mottled, as though she had walked through a patch of itching ivy. “Shin Hye! Marriage proposals from wealthy, rich, stable young men do not blossom on trees!”

Particularly not in January, I wouldn’t think. Shin Hye knew better than to say what she was thinking.

When a maid came forward to serve the soup that was to begin their lunch, Mrs. Park collapsed into her chair, and said, “Take it away! Who can eat at a time like this?”

“I am quite hungry, actually,” Yoo Bi pointed out, and Shin Hye swallowed back a smile.

“YEOBO!”

Mr Park sighed and turned to Shin Hye. “You refused h