Chapter 60: A Proposal That Shakes the Storm

Morning sunlight stabbed my eyelids. Suddenly, the blanket was yanked away, followed by a crash like a building collapsing. Sleeping awkwardly all night, I winced at the noise and barely opened my eyes.

There was Do Yoon, in nothing but sweatpants, sprawled on the floor, looking horrified. His bedhead was a mess, his face pale from last night’s drinking. Squinting, I croaked.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, why… why are you here…”

He couldn’t finish, staring at me like he’d seen a ghost, his chiseled shoulders and abs on full display. Still drunk? His trembling hand pointed at me.

“Did I… last night…”

His gaze landed on the bruise on my wrist. I rubbed my eyes, resigned.

“Yeah, you did this.”

His breath stopped, face frozen in terror, as if the oxygen had vanished around him. His reaction was dramatic—guilty, sure, but no need for this much remorse. I picked up a torn rag from the floor.

“You cried and begged me not to leave, tore my shirt to shreds. Why’re you so strong?”

“Huh?”

He looked like he’d been hit with a hammer, exhaling a held breath. Dazed, like someone freed from a spell, he muttered.

“That’s… all?”

All? This was an expensive shirt. Before I could reply, he asked.

“Then why am I… half-naked…”

“You stripped, said it was hot. Don’t remember?”

He looked confused. As I stood, the blanket slid off, revealing my body. Do Yoon shuddered, looking away like he’d seen something forbidden. What’s with him?

Sighing, I said.

“Drink less from now on.”

“Sorry…”

He stared into space, still out of it. I snapped my fingers in front of him. He flinched, focus returning to his eyes. Staring at him, I said.

“If something’s up, tell me. I might not help, but don’t chug soju like last night.”

“…Okay.”

His face darkened, fully sober now. A kid who never drank heavily must be shocked at himself. Hesitating, I added.

“If I upset you, say it.”

“Nothing like that…”

“Don’t lie. You said you hated me multiple times last night.”

“I did? No way.”

Fidgeting, he shuffled closer to the bed, looking like a whimpering puppy—the Do Yoon I knew. Relieved, I stretched, stood, and said.

“Come on. I’ll make you honey water.”

I turned to leave, but he called urgently.

“Hyung!”

“Yeah?”

His teary eyes dropped.

“…If I act like that again, just hit me. Or kick me.”

I saw his gaze on my bruised wrist. I chuckled.

“Nah, why would I hit you?”

His face shadowed.

After that, Do Yoon became docile again. He came home on time, didn’t act out, and was well-behaved. The only change was his sudden avoidance of physical contact. Before, he’d cling to me or hug my waist, but now he jumped if I patted his back or brushed his hand, awkwardly retreating. It was too subtle to call him out.

What’s with the sudden distance?

We’d been overly close for two grown guys, sure. Maybe his teenage rebellion was hitting late. If he wanted space, I’d respect it, but it felt empty.

Our easygoing vibe was gone, replaced by cautious politeness, like we were avoiding mistakes. The house felt tense, not comforting. When the family brought up blind dates, it got worse. Even when Manager Jo showed up with photos, Do Yoon just went to his room without a word. His silence was scarier than any outburst.

Otherwise, things were fine. We ate together, chatted sometimes, went out occasionally, slept separately—like normal brothers. Time passed in this uneasy peace, both of us tiptoeing around each other.

On the surface, nothing was wrong, but something had shifted. I didn’t want to name the intangible anxiety—a storm in a teacup.

That teacup shattered one early summer day with a sudden call. Checking a movie trailer at the office, I answered.

“Hello?”

<It’s me. Can we meet today?>

I stared at the phone, confused. Who’s this, speaking so casually?

“Who’s this?”

<Wow, you didn’t save my number… Never mind. It’s Ju Ria.>

My eyes widened. She hadn’t contacted me since the blind date. Glancing around, I lowered my voice.

“What’s up? How’d you get my number?”

<You can find anything if you ask. It’s urgent. I’d rather talk in person.>

Instinctively, I resisted. Meet her again? If Do Yoon found out, I couldn’t imagine his reaction. The blind date had already set him off. He might not get drunk and lash out again, but with our current fragile balance, I didn’t want to add fuel. I pressed.

“Can’t we do this over the phone? Just say it.”

After a pause, she blurted.

<Let’s get engaged.>

I knocked over my tumbler, which clattered loudly. Scrambling to pick it up, I apologized with my eyes to colleagues. Gritting my teeth, I sighed.

“Are you crazy?”

“…Let’s meet. I’ll pick the place.”

Learning from last time, I booked a private Korean restaurant. Even if Do Yoon himself showed up, he wouldn’t spot me with Ju Ria.

After work, I entered the reserved room. Ju Ria, already there, stood abruptly. Unlike her leisurely, bored entrance last time, she now greeted me eagerly. She looked thinner than last winter, almost gaunt. I waited for the staff to leave before speaking.

“Engaged? Didn’t we agree to never meet again?”

She brushed back her long hair, sighing deeply. Her pale yellow blouse and dark jeans suited her, but her face looked like she could light a cigarette any second.

“I meant to.”

“So?”

Like an interviewer, she asked.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“…No?”

She sighed, a mix of relief and complexity.

“I’ll explain quickly. Grandfather’s gone nuts, trying to marry me off this year. The candidates are all losers, forty-somethings, or divorcees. I’m not even thirty! Even if I overlook looks and age, they’re awful—rich but human garbage. None understand my art, and they’d probably lock me at home. I can’t live like that.”

I was shocked. Didn’t Chairman Joo adore her?