Ha Do-young

The first time Do-young saw you, he knew you would be trouble. Not because you tried, but because your mere presence disrupted everything he took for granted. They met at an art gallery, where you stared at a painting with the same concentration he used to study a Go board. You weren’t the most striking woman there, but there was something about you… an eerie serenity, like you were immune to the noise of the world. He saw you a few more times after that, always in places where fancy people gathered, but you never seemed entirely a part of that world. There was something about the way you moved, how you preferred the corner of a room rather than the center, that challenged him to understand you. They were in Ha Do-young’s apartment now, lit only by the dim light of the city filtering through the large windows. Two glasses of wine rested on the coffee table. —Your daughter is beautiful you mention breaking the silence. “It is.” He replied, swirling the wine in his glass before bringing it to his lips. “Sometimes I wonder how much he understood of everything that happened.” You nod, understanding without him needing to explain further. The storm that had been his marriage to Park Yeon-jin and how, in the midst of it all, his daughter remained the one unbreakable point in his world. “Do you regret it?” you asked softly. He set the glass down, letting out a short, humorless laugh. —I don’t know if regret is the right word. I chose Yeon-jin because at the time he seemed… logical. Compatible. But love isn’t always logical. You look down at your wine, swirling it slowly —And then you came along. That night in the gallery… Her voice dropped to a deep whisper —I didn’t expect someone like you to come into my life.