Bond
897 Words
The next morning, Hanuel arrived at her shop and noticed her workers gathered around a neatly wrapped package on the counter.
Worker: “This just came for you, ma’am.”
Hanuel walked over and carefully unwrapped the package. Inside was a sleek, elegant planner with her initials engraved on the cover — something she had wanted for a long time but had never bought for herself. She held it in her hands for a moment, examining it, her eyes widening slightly.
Hanuel: (softly) “Wow… this is really nice. Thank you.”
She spotted a small note tucked inside the planner. Opening it, she read: “For your days to be as organized and bright as you are. — Chang Wook”
Hanuel’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. She felt a warm, light happiness spread in her chest. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, just a simple appreciation for the thoughtfulness. It made her morning feel a little brighter, a little lighter.
Hanuel picked up her phone and quickly dialed his number.
Hanuel: “Hi, Chang Wook. I just got the gift. Thank you so much!”
Chang Wook: (slightly embarrassed) “Oh… I’m glad you like it. I thought it might be helpful for your work.”
Hanuel: “It’s definitely helpful. And thoughtful too… I really appreciate it.”
Chang Wook: (softly) “You’re welcome.”
Hanuel put her phone down and held the planner for a moment, flipping through the clean pages. She imagined writing in it, organizing her days, and keeping track of everything she needed to do. The gesture was simple, practical, and just thoughtful enough to make her smile again.
Hanuel: (smiling to herself) “I’ll make sure to use it well. And I’ll remember this kindness.”
Even though they hadn’t met in person that morning, the small gesture had already made her day feel a little brighter.
Then, as she turned the pages, she found a tiny post-it note stuck inside the first section: “Don’t forget to take a break today.”
Hanuel chuckled softly, her heart warming again at the thoughtfulness.
Worker: “Ma’am, the orders for today are ready for packing.”
Hanuel: “Thank you!” (glancing at her planner) “Let’s get organized… and maybe I’ll follow his advice and take a small break too.”
Throughout the morning, every time she checked a note or scheduled a task, Hanuel found herself remembering both gestures — the planner with his heartfelt note and the little post-it reminding her to pause. It made her work feel lighter, and her day unexpectedly brighter.
She couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
Hanuel: (thinking) “He really does pay attention… even from afar.”
Her team noticed her unusually bright mood.
Worker: “You’re smiling a lot today, ma’am. Birthday magic?”
Hanuel: (smiling warmly) “Something like that.”
Even without seeing Chang Wook in person, Hanuel felt a quiet closeness forming — a subtle connection that made her work feel lighter and her day unexpectedly special.
Home Visit
Ayan opened the door to her childhood home. Memories hit her — some sharp, some warm — leaving her unsure whether to smile or scowl.
Her mom’s eyes immediately met hers, softer than usual, tinged with something unspoken.
Ayan’s Mom: Areum…
Ayan: (coldly) Stop. I’ve told you a thousand times… don’t call me that. You’re not Dad.
Her mother flinched slightly, guilt crossing her features.
Ayan’s Mom: …I know. I just… I wanted to hear it out loud, one last time. Sit down, please.
Ayan hesitated, then lowered herself into the chair. Her mom poured a glass of water, her hands shaking slightly.
Ayan: Where’s Dad?
Her mom’s eyes flickered, avoiding Ayan’s gaze.
Ayan’s Mom: Min Jae took him for a walk…
Ayan: (raising an eyebrow) ohhh ?
A tense silence filled the room. Ayan knew her father couldn’t walk — he had to be in his wheelchair. Her mother’s words sounded hollow, a small lie to soften the moment.
Ayan had come for one reason: to tell them she and Euntak were getting married. Nothing flashy. No reconciliation. Just the truth.
Ayan: I… I wanted you to know. Euntak and I are getting married.
Her mother’s face fell, eyes dropping to her hands. The guilt was unmistakable now, in the way she avoided Ayan’s gaze.
Ayan’s Mom: (softly, almost whispering) I… I see. Congratulations, Ayan. I… I’m sorry.
Ayan: (raising an eyebrow) Sorry for what?
Her mother’s lips trembled, her voice breaking slightly.
Ayan’s Mom: For not being the mother you needed… for all the times I failed you. I didn’t know how to fix things, and I… I regret it every single day.
A flicker of emotion passed over Ayan’s face. Not forgiveness. Not warmth. But an acknowledgment of the truth in her mother’s words.
Ayan: (quietly) I’ve… figured some things out on my own.
Ayan’s Mom: (voice cracking) I know… and I don’t deserve it. But I want you to be happy, Ayan. That’s all I can give you now.
Ayan nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. A long silence stretched between them — heavy, real, and full of words that didn’t need to be spoken.
Ayan: (softly) Thanks, Mom.
Her mother looked at her daughter, eyes glistening. Guilt, love, and longing mingled there, a quiet reminder that even broken relationships carry pieces of care.
- Writer
