Park Jihyo#

"Do you think they'll like me, honey?" Jihyo repeated the same question for the thousandth time. They'd been stuck in traffic for almost forty minutes on the way to your parents' house. The radio played softly in the background, but the silence between them weighed more than any song. Jihyo glanced out the window every few seconds, adjusting her hair, sighing, asking you the same question again and again.

After six months of dating, you were finally going to introduce Jihyo to your parents. You had insisted for weeks, although she clearly didn't want to get to this point so quickly.

And it wasn't because she was ashamed of you. Quite the opposite.

Jihyo was a charming, caring, sweet, and incredibly kind woman. She owned a small restaurant that she had practically built herself, was the mother of a 20-year-old daughter, and was the kind of person who remembered how you liked your coffee even when you'd forgotten. She was mature, patient, and always seemed to have everything under control… except now.

Because there was something I couldn't ignore: the age difference between you.

Jihyo noticed every time someone stared at them for too long on the street. Every time a stranger assumed she was your aunt or even your mother, she pretended it didn't bother her, though she'd be quieter than usual afterward.

Your parents weren't conservative; on the contrary, they were liberal to a fault. They'd always said that as long as you were happy, they would be too. But this was different. You'd never brought anyone like Jihyo home before.

And Jihyo knew it.

"I'm nervous..." she murmured again, letting out a small, nervous laugh.

You turned your body slightly toward her and took her hand on the gearshift. It was cold.

— Honey, they're going to adore you. You're literally the nicest person I know.

— You say that because you love me.

— That's exactly why I know I'm right

— I don't want them to think I'm ruining your life or depriving you of experiences by being with me...