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This light novel is inspired by the beautiful landscapes and cultures of Bolivia and South Korea. However, the characters, events, and situations portrayed are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This content does not intend to represent or reflect the historical, social, or cultural reality of either country. The author disclaims any legal liability arising from the interpretation of these elements.
Chapter 91 — When in Rome...
91.1 A Wake-up Call.
The day had started like any other.
Zayra was slowly adjusting to the Korean rhythm.
She no longer got lost in the subway stations; she had even found her favorite coffee shop in the city.
But that morning, something different awaited her.
Her mother-in-law received her in the small traditional tea room of the family home.
With a low table, hot barley tea, and the polite demeanor of someone about to have an important conversation, the stage was set.
Zayra smiled, feeling a bit nervous.
Mrs. Min Seo-Yeon was serene as always... but today, her gaze was deeper.
She asked her to sit.
"Zayra."
She said, her voice soft yet firm.
"I wanted to speak with you before you heard it from someone else.
There is a video circulating from the karaoke night. I'd prefer we discuss it ourselves."
Zayra blinked, confused.
Then she thought.
"When did they film me? I didn't even notice."
Her mother-in-law watched her with her usual calm,
but Zayra felt her thoughts fluttering like restless butterflies.
"Was it the song? But I didn't sing anything offensive."
After a few seconds, her mother's voice echoed in her mind:
"You little pelada, how many times have I told you to think before you act?"
Zayra couldn't help but smile,
remembering her mother pointing at her with a wooden spoon.
Then it clicked.
There were businessmen present; it was a formal dinner.
Perhaps some interpreted her performance as too spontaneous for that context.
She sighed.
Her logical side understood the reprimand.
She looked up at her mother-in-law with apologetic eyes.
Mrs. Min gave a faint smile, as if she had read every single one of her thoughts.
Zayra looked her in the eye, her expression sincere.
"Ma'am, I apologize. I believe it was an error on my part;
it was never my intention to cause discomfort."
Her mother-in-law noted the sincerity in the apology and analyzed the situation.
"She has her own light. She just needs to learn the stage."
Zayra continued in a delicate tone.
"In my country, it's common, and the song doesn't have an inappropriate meaning...
but I understand it might have been too expressive for this setting. I should have considered that."
Mrs. Min Seo-Yeon remained silent for a few seconds before nodding.
Her smile was warmer now.
She poured more tea.
"I'm glad you understand, Zayra. I'm not angry. In fact, it was brave.
But here... even beauty needs context."
Zayra understood this wasn't a warning, but a lesson.
She bowed her head out of courtesy, not guilt.
She was a woman who had built her life alone;
accepting this didn't make her any less strong.
Noticing what she was feeling, her mother-in-law commented,
"When we lived in New York, no one would have questioned something like that.
But Seoul watches differently."
Zayra nodded while stirring her sugarless tea, reflecting.
"What a way to complicate something so simple.
It was a ballad, not a declaration of war... But I was in their house, not mine."
Her mother-in-law, sensing her thoughts, slid the teacup toward her.
"You will learn quickly. The emotion wasn't the mistake. It was the stage."
Zayra nodded.
Though inside, she couldn't help but feel humiliated.
91.2 The Silence That Failed to Protect
Zayra walked home with firm steps, but her soul was stinging.
Ryu had picked her up from his parents' house.
They didn't speak the entire way.
He kept his hands in his pockets, fingers clenched into invisible fists.
She had learned that silence was a form of control... but tonight, it felt like abandonment.
The silence between them was so thick that even the streetlights seemed to avoid looking at them.
Ryu realized Zayra already knew about the video and regretted not saying anything that morning.
He had wanted to protect her by managing the damage.
He didn't imagine that the damage would be him.
He tried to approach her several times, but she remained evasive.
Ryu knew pushing her would make it worse, so he chose to walk as close to her as possible.
But Zayra said nothing.
Her expression was one of disappointment; something had broken that night.
It wasn't anger he saw it was distance.
And Ryu didn't know how to negotiate with that.
They entered the apartment.
She left her things at the entrance, went to the bathroom, and washed her face.
Zayra returned to the bedroom, took out her pajamas, and when she got into bed, she turned her back to Ryu.
Ryu stood there, watching her in silence.
He knew she was upset, but he hadn't yet grasped the extent of it.
"Zay..."
He murmured at last, searching for the right tone.
"Do you know what the worst part is?"
She replied without looking at him, her voice heavy with a dangerous calm.
"That you didn't even think to warn me."
Ryu held her gaze, calculating a response he couldn't find.
"I didn't think that."
"Exactly!" She cut him off.
The blow wasn't her shout; it was the truth.
Finally, she turned to face him.
Her eyes were glassy, but not with sadness with wounded pride.
"You didn't think! You didn't think that I'm not from here, that I was trying to be kind,
and that I'd end up being corrected by your mother."
He tried to move closer.
"Zayra..."
She sat up abruptly, looking at him with indignation.
"What did you expect? That I'd know everything by magic?"
"No!" Ryu said, with force this time.
He took a step forward, his voice dropping.
"No, Zay. I didn't want that. I never wanted that."
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to hold back the tide of emotion.
"Do you know what hurt me most? Not that your mother spoke to me, but that you did nothing.
I felt alone... and that's what hurt the most."
Ryu pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening.
That gesture, which in board meetings preceded cold decisions, had no strategy this time.
He knew she was right.
Even though he had understood the song, the intention, and the love behind it, he had remained silent.
Out of prudence, out of clumsiness, out of fear of making things worse.
And the worst part was that he knew it.
Zayra lay back down and covered herself with the blanket.
In an indignant tone, she added.
"Go away. I want to sleep."
He didn't insist.
He simply turned off the light. And as he lay on the sofa staring at the ceiling, Ryu reflected:
"I made a mistake. And I don't know if an apology will be enough."
In business, apologies are backed by actions.
In love... he didn't know which ones were the right ones.
91.3 The Gesture That Isn't Enough.
The sun was just beginning to peek through the windows of Seoul when Ryu was already awake and determined.
With a firm step, he left the house quietly.
He remembered the peach tree he had seen days ago, with its pink flowers and fresh leaves.
He needed something tangible.
Something that said what he didn't know how to say.
At the nursery, he chose the most beautiful branch he could find—green leaves, budding petals, a sweet and subtle scent.
He carefully placed it in a fine wooden box, wrapped with a handwritten note:
< "So that this land does not feel foreign to you.">
He believed this gesture would speak for him.
***
When Zayra arrived, he stayed on the other side of the room, watching her in silence.
The box rested on the table between them.
She saw the wooden box, picked it up, and opened the lid.
Her eyes moved over the branch, the leaves... and without showing any emotion, she closed the box delicately.
She gave him a cold look not of contempt, but of restraint.
Without losing her manners or composure,
she placed the box back on the table and, with a firm, measured voice, said.
"Thank you. Excuse me."
Without waiting for a response, she got up and retreated to her room.
The door closed behind her.
Ryu stood paralyzed. He felt something unknown.
Not the fear of losing control... but the fear of losing her. A knot formed in his throat.
His gesture, which for him was a bridge, was for her just another wall.
That "thank you" sounded like a goodbye.
A heavy silence fell over the room.
He sat on the sofa and dropped his head into his hands.
For the first time in years, he didn't have a plan.
Asking for help had never come naturally to him.
But this time, pride was not the priority.
He thought back to that day in Bolivia when Zayra, hurt and angry,
had almost called off the engagement.
"What if she doesn't come back this time?"
The idea terrified him.
"I can't let her drift any further away."
He told himself. His mind began to race.
Memories, unspoken words, silences that weighed more than a scream.
Then, on an impulse, he took his phone and dialed a number.
"Camila... I need to understand your sister before it's too late."