Jinyoung sat behind the enormous glass desk in his office, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows at Seoul's skyline. From this height, the busy streets below looked almost insignificant. Cars moved along the roads, people hurried between buildings, and the city continued with its usual rhythm.
His office reflected the position he held within Woolim Group. Dark wood furnishings, expensive leather chairs, carefully arranged shelves and modern artwork filled the spacious room. Everything looked polished and controlled.
Everything except Jinyoung.
He opened the drawer of his desk and reached for his wallet. He hesitated before opening it.
Inside was an old photograph.
Kyrah.
The corners of the photograph had begun to wear from how many times he had handled it, but he still couldn't bring himself to throw it away.
He stared at her face.
For a moment, the years between then and now disappeared.
He remembered the way she laughed whenever he teased her, the little arguments they used to have, the way she would pretend to be angry before eventually giving in and smiling.
He had been happy.
Genuinely happy.
His phone rang.
Jinyoung glanced at the screen.
Mirae.
He watched it ring without answering.
Eventually, the call ended.
Before he could put the phone down, it rang again.
This time, it was his mother.
His expression changed.
He answered.
"Hello, Mom."
"You and Mirae need to start thinking about having a child."
Jinyoung's fingers tightened around the phone.
"Mom—"
"You've been married for over a month now. We cannot keep waiting."
He leaned back in his chair.
"There is no sign of a pregnancy, no plans, nothing. We need an heir for the group. We cannot allow the family name to end with you."
Jinyoung said nothing.
His mother's words pulled him back to another conversation.
The day before his wedding.
He had stood in his mother's study, refusing to accept the decision she had already made for him.
"I can't marry Mirae."
His mother had barely looked up from the documents on her desk.
"You will."
"I love Kyrah."
"And?"
Jinyoung had stared at her in disbelief.
"How can you say that so easily? I'm supposed to marry another woman while the woman I love—"
"Kyrah cannot give you what Mirae's family can give you."
"That's not what marriage is about."
His mother's expression had hardened.
"You seem to have forgotten who you are."
Jinyoung had clenched his fists.
"I know exactly who I am."
"No. You know who you want to be."
She stood and walked toward him.
"There is no way you are inheriting Woolim Group if you refuse to marry Mirae."
Jinyoung's eyes narrowed.
"You're threatening me."
"I'm giving you a choice."
She continued, her voice steady.
"Mirae's family will strengthen Woolim's position. Their connections will benefit this company for years. And Mirae is completely devoted to you."
"But I don't love her."
"She knows."
That answer had stunned him.
His mother continued.
"She knows you don't love her, and she has still agreed to marry you."
Jinyoung had looked away.
He knew Mirae loved him.
That was precisely what made the situation so difficult.
The memory faded.
Jinyoung was back in his office, his mother's voice still coming through the phone.
"You need to start behaving like a married man, Jinyoung."
His jaw tightened.
"I can handle my own marriage."
"This isn't merely about your marriage. It's about the future of Woolim."
"You already managed my life enough. You chose my wife for me. Are you going to manage what happens between us too?"
There was a pause.
Then his mother's voice became colder.
"You know you're not the largest shareholder in the company."
Jinyoung's expression darkened.
"And that can change."
He remained silent.
"I will not hand Woolim to someone without an heir," she continued. "So you need to act quickly."
The call ended.
Jinyoung slowly lowered his phone.
His eyes fell on the drawer.
He opened it again and looked at the photograph of Kyrah.
He knew exactly what his mother didn't know.
He had never touched Mirae since their wedding.
Not once.
He couldn't.
Every time he looked at his wife, he thought about Kyrah.
And whenever he thought about Kyrah, he remembered the child she was carrying.
His child.
Somewhere out there, Kyrah was living her life with the baby he had refused to acknowledge.
The guilt sat heavily inside him.
Mirae knew the truth. She had known before she married him that his heart belonged to someone else. Yet she had still chosen to marry him because she loved him.
Jinyoung couldn't bring himself to betray that trust further.
How could he share a bed with her while knowing that his heart was still somewhere else?
He closed the drawer.
"Enough."
He stood, straightened his suit and picked up the documents for his next meeting.
He had work to do.
Business was easier than feelings.
Numbers didn't ask him to choose between duty and love.
Numbers didn't remind him of Kyrah.
And numbers certainly didn't remind him that somewhere in the world, his unborn child was growing without him.
Jinyoung walked out of his office and headed toward the conference room.
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away in Hong Kong, Kyrah was building a life of her own.
She sat at her desk at Jun Chao Group, surrounded by documents and screens. Her days had become a mixture of deadlines, meetings, coding and learning the expectations of her new position.
She was tired.
But she was happy.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was actually moving forward.
Her hand unconsciously rested against her stomach.
Her baby.
That little life had become her greatest motivation.
Kyrah smiled faintly before returning to her work.
She had no idea what was happening in Seoul.
She didn't know that Jinyoung had been thinking about her.
She didn't know that his mother was pressuring him for an heir.
And she certainly didn't know that the family she had walked away from was already beginning to crack beneath the weight of everything neither Jinyoung nor Mirae knew how to say.
For Kyrah, the past was supposed to be over.
But sometimes, walking away from something didn't mean it had stopped following you.