Chapter 53 - Valentine special Chapter. 14 February 2026.

💌 Valentine's Special 💌

Morning arrived dipped in pink propaganda.

Ji-Ah opened one eye.

Then the other.

February 14.

She stared at the ceiling.

"…Of course."

She rolled out of bed with the enthusiasm of someone personally betrayed by the calendar.

From outside her window, the world was already suspiciously cheerful. Couples. Flowers. Probably unnecessary balloons.

She opened her closet.

And there it was.

The red dress.

Not dramatic. Not flashy. Just elegant. Soft fabric, clean lines, fitted perfectly. The kind of red that didn't beg for attention but received it anyway.

She held it up to herself in the mirror.

"Still single," she muttered flatly.

A long groan escaped her as she slipped into it anyway. If she was going to survive Valentine's Day alone, she would at least look expensive.

She styled her hair carefully, smoothing it down, adding soft waves, pinning one side back. A touch of gloss. A steadying breath.

She looked… stunning.

Which somehow made it worse.

"Congratulations," she told her reflection. "You look heartbreak ready."

She grabbed her bag and stepped into the hallway.

And immediately collided into something firm and solid.

Ha-Joon.

He caught her instinctively by the arms before she could tip backward.

They froze.

Her hands were still on his chest.

His fingers were still lightly holding her elbows.

She smiled first. "Happy Valen—"

"Remove it."

She blinked.

"…Excuse me?"

His eyes had dropped to her dress.

Not in admiration.

Not quite.

Something flickered there. Recognition. Memory. A tightening.

She frowned. "It's just a dress."

He didn't look away. "You shouldn't wear that."

Her brows pulled together. "Why?"

A pause.

"It resembles someone."

The air thinned.

Her tone shifted slightly. "Who?"

He didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened, gaze distant for half a second too long.

"Someone," he said calmly. "From before."

Ah.

Not festive.

Not sweet.

History.

She studied him now. The way his voice was even, but a fraction lower. The way his fingers had already let go, yet he stood a little too still.

"It's Valentine's Day," she said carefully. "I'm not dressed for anyone."

His gaze returned to her face.

And something changed.

Because no matter the color, no matter the cut, she did not resemble that memory.

She was standing there slightly annoyed, slightly stubborn, completely unaware of how dangerously beautiful she looked.

He exhaled softly.

"It's distracting."

She crossed her arms. "To who?"

He held her stare.

"…To the office."

She narrowed her eyes. "That is not what you meant."

Silence stretched between them.

Then he stepped aside.

"Do as you wish."

There it was again.

As you wish.

Her heart did something inconvenient.

She walked past him, heels clicking lightly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sir," she said over her shoulder.

He didn't respond immediately.

But as she disappeared down the hallway, he murmured quietly,

"…Unnecessary holiday."

Yet his gaze lingered far longer than professional standards required.

Ji-Ah had barely taken six victorious steps away from Ha-Joon and his emotionally complicated red-dress crisis—

—when a hand gently grabbed her sleeve.

She turned.

Min-Hyuk.

Bright-eyed. Slightly breathless. Suspiciously nervous.

"Ji-Ah," he whispered urgently, glancing left and right like he was planning corporate espionage. "Quick question."

She blinked. "Why do you look like you're about to propose to the vending machine?"

He ignored that.

"What's Seo-Yeon's favorite color?"

Ah.

Ji-Ah's lips curved slowly.

"Why?"

He straightened, trying to look casual. Failed completely. "I'm visiting her office later. Just… stopping by."

"Just stopping by," she repeated.

"Yes."

"With your hands empty?"

He paused.

"…Possibly not empty."

She crossed her arms. "Red roses are the default. Very Valentine. Very predictable."

He swallowed. "That's what I thought."

She leaned closer. "She prefers white."

His eyes widened. "White?"

"She says red is too loud. White feels… sincere."

Min-Hyuk stood there processing that like it was sacred knowledge.

"White," he repeated softly.

Ji-Ah nodded. "If you show up with white roses, she'll act composed. But she'll remember it."

He blinked twice.

Then smiled.

A shy, genuine smile that made him look five years younger.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

She tilted her head. "You're really going?"

He nodded, determination settling into his posture. "Yes."

She studied him for a second.

"You're brave."

He inhaled slowly. "I'm terrified."

She laughed.

He started to walk away, then turned back quickly. "Wait. Should I say anything specific?"

Ji-Ah thought for a moment.

"Don't make it dramatic. Just say you hope she has a peaceful day."

He nodded like he was memorizing a speech.

"Peaceful day. White roses. Not dramatic."

"Correct."

He bowed slightly out of habit. "Thank you, consultant."

She waved him off. "Go before you overthink it."

Min-Hyuk hurried down the hallway, already pulling out his phone, probably to order the flowers immediately.

Ji-Ah watched him go with a small smile.

Then—

A voice behind her.

"Consultant?"

She froze.

Slowly turned.

Ha-Joon.

Arms crossed.

Expression unreadable.

"How many brothers are you advising today?"

Ji-Ah swallowed.

"…Only one."

His eyes dropped briefly to her red dress again.

Then back to her face.

"Be careful," he said evenly.

"Of what?"

He held her gaze a second too long.

"White can be more dangerous than red."

And with that, he walked past her.

Leaving her standing there.

Completely confused.

And slightly flustered.

--------

"This is Aiko Tanaka," Min-Jea had once said proudly. "She keeps this place running."

"Nice to meet you, Ji-Ah."

That was then.

Now?

Chaos.

Ji-Ah's phone vibrated violently against the restaurant table.

Min-Jea.

She narrowed her eyes.

Ha-Joon, sitting across from her with suspicious calm, noticed. "Is someone dying?"

She answered.

Immediately—

"I GOT REJECTED."

The volume. The devastation. The emotional earthquake.

Ji-Ah pulled the phone away from her ear. "Lower your voice. I am in public."

"She said I'm too sweet!" he cried dramatically. "TOO SWEET."

Ha-Joon slowly lifted his glass of water, observing.

"She said she's afraid of breaking me," Min-Jea continued miserably. "Breaking me! Am I a porcelain doll? Am I a limited edition dessert?!"

Ji-Ah pressed her fingers to her forehead.

"What exactly did she say?" she asked.

"She said I deserve someone who won't feel guilty loving me," he sobbed. "That I'm too gentle."

Ha-Joon's eyebrow moved almost imperceptibly.

Ji-Ah sighed. "That's not rejection. That's fear."

"It feels like rejection!"

"Because it is rejection," she corrected calmly. "But with compliments."

A wounded silence.

Then a sniffle.

"I even gave her white roses," he whispered. "I thought it would mean something."

"It did mean something."

"It meant goodbye."

Ji-Ah closed her eyes.

"Stop crying."

"I can't."

"You can. You are a grown man."

"I am a broken grown man."

She leaned back in her chair. "Listen to me carefully. We are two single people. Two abandoned Valentine statistics."

"…That's not comforting."

"We are both single asses."

A pause.

Then, despite himself, Min-Jea let out a weak laugh.

"There," she said. "Alive."

Silence.

"I'll come over later," she added. "You get fifteen more minutes of dramatic suffering. After that, we eat and recover your dignity."

"…You promise?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

She hung up.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Lowered her phone.

Across the restaurant, near the window.

Nisa.

Do-Hyun.

Hands intertwined.

Soft voices.

Too soft.

Ha-Joon glanced at her. "Was it necessary to follow them this early?"

She slapped his hand lightly without looking at him. "It is necessary."

He blinked. "You assaulted me."

"Focus."

They both turned slightly.

Do-Hyun reached into his coat.

Ji-Ah froze.

Ha-Joon's calm sharpened.

A small velvet box appeared.

Ji-Ah grabbed Ha-Joon's sleeve.

"This is not a drill."

"Let go of my jacket."

"Shh."

Do-Hyun looked at Nisa, steady and warm.

"I was going to wait," he said softly. "For a better moment. A better setting."

Nisa's fingers trembled in his.

"But every time I try to wait," he continued, "I just want to move forward instead."

He opened the box.

The ring caught the light gently. Elegant. Intentional.

No noise. No show.

Just certainty.

"I don't want to introduce you as anything temporary," he said quietly. "I want you as my wife."

Nisa's eyes filled instantly.

"Do-Hyun…"

"Marry me."

The restaurant faded.

She laughed through tears.

"Yes."

He slid the ring onto her finger.

Applause rose softly around them.

Ji-Ah sat frozen.

Ha-Joon leaned back slowly.

"So," he said calmly, "this was the necessary mission."

Ji-Ah didn't answer.

Her best friend had just been rejected.

In front of her, love was getting upgraded to lifetime subscription.

Valentine's Day was ruthless.

Ha-Joon glanced at her profile.

"You look like you're reconsidering humanity."

She exhaled.

"Today is emotionally unstable."

He studied her quietly.

Then said, softer than usual,

"Not everyone who gets rejected stays rejected."

She turned to look at him.

That tone again.

That dangerous softness.

Across the room, Nisa was glowing with a ring on her hand.

Beside her, Ha-Joon's fingers rested on the table.

Close.

Not touching.

But close enough to start something.

----

The hallway was dipped in after-hours gold. Most employees had gone home. The building felt like it was holding its breath.

Seo-Yeon stepped out of her office, locking the door.

Min-Hyuk was waiting.

Not in full CEO dominance mode.

Just… waiting.

White roses in hand.

He cleared his throat. "I won't take long."

She glanced at the bouquet, then at him. Calm. Always calm.

"These are for you," he said, offering them carefully, like they might shatter.

She accepted them with both hands.

"They're beautiful."

"I remembered you prefer white."

A flicker in her eyes. Subtle. Real.

"Thank you, Min-Hyuk."

No theatrics. No fluttering panic. Just steady warmth.

"I hope you have a peaceful Valentine's Day," he added quietly.

Her lips curved slightly. "Peaceful sounds nice."

And then—

A door opened down the corridor.

Yura stepped out.

Tablet in hand. Sharp suit. CEO's PA. Unfortunately observant.

She froze mid-step.

Looked at the bouquet.

Looked at Min-Hyuk.

Then clasped her hands dramatically.

"Sir."

Min-Hyuk closed his eyes briefly. "Yura."

She smiled brightly. "Congratulations."

"For what?" he asked cautiously.

"For not dying before confessing."

Seo-Yeon laughed softly.

Seo-Jun appeared behind Yura, relaxed as ever.

He slid an arm casually around her waist. "He's been rehearsing this for three days."

Min-Hyuk stiffened. "That information was confidential."

Yura grinned. "Not from me."

Seo-Yeon shook her head, amused. "You all need hobbies."

Before the teasing could escalate—

Footsteps echoed.

Ha-Joon. Ji-Ah. Nisa. Do-Hyun.

Energy level: dramatic.

Nisa immediately thrust her left hand forward.

"Look!"

The ring sparkled like it had been waiting for an audience.

Seo-Yeon's eyes widened. "You're engaged?!"

Nisa nodded, glowing. "He proposed."

Seo-Yeon stepped forward instantly, examining the ring like a jeweler with feelings.

"It's elegant," she said sincerely. "You chose well."

Do-Hyun gave a small, proud smile. "I know."

Ji-Ah clapped once. "Alright. Since love is aggressively progressing."

She turned. "Dinner."

"Yes," Nisa said immediately.

Seo-Jun nodded. "I'm hungry."

Yura lifted her tablet. "I'll clear tomorrow morning's schedule."

Ha-Joon frowned slightly. "That is unnecessary."

Do-Hyun added smoothly, "Ha-Joon will pay."

Ha-Joon inhaled.

Ji-Ah cut in instantly. "He insists."

"I do not."

"You do."

"This is slander."

"You're the richest."

"That is not a crime."

"It is tonight."

The couples began moving forward.

Do-Hyun and Nisa naturally side by side.

Seo-Jun's fingers laced with Yura's.

Min-Hyuk walking near Seo-Yeon, careful but hopeful.

Behind them—

Ji-Ah and Ha-Joon lingered.

They watched the three pairs walking like a romantic advertisement.

Then slowly looked at each other.

Both grimaced.

"Revolting," she muttered.

"Predictable," he replied.

"You're paying."

"I'm reconsidering knowing you."

"You'd miss me."

He paused. "…Unlikely."

She narrowed her eyes.

Yet when the others got a few steps ahead—

They both moved at the same time.

Walking.

Side by side.

Matching pace without discussion.

Insulting each other under their breath.

Not touching.

But not separating either.

Because Valentine's Day isn't always about roses and rings.

Sometimes it's about the person who argues with you about the bill—

And still walks with you anyway. 

--

The restaurant glowed in soft amber light. Round table. Too many plates. Too much love in the air.

Ha-Joon had indeed paid.

He was still recovering.

—

Yura leaned back in her chair, cheerful energy radiating like she personally sponsored Valentine's Day.

"This is perfect," she declared. "Two engagements pending, one emotional confession, and one heartbreak. Balanced ecosystem."

Seo-Jun calmly poured water into her glass.

"You forgot one financially wounded executive."

Ha-Joon gave him a look.

Seo-Jun smiled innocently and slid the bread basket toward Yura. "Carbs heal celebration shock."

Yura bumped her shoulder against his. "You're the shock."

He blinked slowly. "That was weak."

"It was romantic."

"I was aiming for mild."

They both smiled like this was their private sport.

—

Across the table, Do-Hyun gently adjusted Nisa's sleeve.

"You're cold."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

He quietly took off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders anyway.

Nisa looked at him like he had just invented oxygen.

Ji-Ah made a face.

"Please stop being considerate in public."

Nisa laughed, glowing. "You're just jealous."

"I am disgusted," Ji-Ah corrected. "But also extremely happy."

Do-Hyun nodded respectfully at her. "Thank you for stalking us."

"You're welcome."

Ha-Joon took a slow sip of water. "She insisted it was a mission."

"It was."

"It was surveillance."

"It was necessary."

—

At the other end of the table, Min-Hyuk and Seo-Yeon sat slightly angled toward each other.

Not close.

But not distant.

"I hope today wasn't overwhelming," he said quietly.

"It was eventful," she replied.

"I apologize if the flowers—"

"I liked them."

He paused.

"Good."

She glanced at him. "You were brave."

He blinked. "I was terrified."

"That counts more."

He smiled softly.

Small progress. No rush.

—

And then—

The restaurant doors burst open.

Min-Jea.

Eyes red.

Dramatic presence activated.

He marched toward the table like a fallen hero returning from war.

"You invited me," he said emotionally, voice thick. "Even in my time of romantic collapse."

Ji-Ah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sit down."

He did.

And immediately started crying again.

"I brought tissues," Yura said brightly, pulling a small pack from her bag like she had anticipated this.

Seo-Jun slid a glass of water toward him. "Hydrate between sobs."

Do-Hyun leaned forward kindly. "Rejection is not a verdict."

Nisa nodded warmly. "Sometimes timing is wrong. Not you."

Min-Hyuk placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "You did well."

Ha-Joon spoke calmly. "You showed courage. That already separates you."

Min-Jea sniffed loudly.

"You're all too stable," he said tearfully. "I don't deserve this table."

Ji-Ah shoved a bread roll into his hand. "Eat."

He took it.

"I gave her white roses," he whispered again.

Seo-Yeon looked at him gently. "Then you gave her sincerity. That doesn't disappear."

He blinked at her. "Really?"

"Yes."

Yura raised her glass. "To sincere men."

Seo-Jun clinked his glass lightly against hers. "And dramatic ones."

Min-Jea let out a half-laugh, half-sob.

"Thank you," he said, voice cracking. "For not letting me spiral alone."

Ji-Ah looked around the table.

Three couples.

One almost-couple.

One healing heart.

She exhaled.

"Fine," she muttered. "Love isn't completely unbearable."

Ha-Joon glanced at her. "High praise."

She looked at him.

"You paid. That helps."

He almost smiled.

Around the table, laughter rose.

Glasses clinked.

Hands found each other.

And even Min-Jea, blotting his tears, managed a small, hopeful grin.

Because sometimes Valentine's Day is not about who said yes.

It's about who stayed at your table when someone said no. 💐