Saturday morning dawned. The clear winter sky was graced by faint, wispy clouds, and light flurries of snow danced in the streets, scattering softly on the biting air. Minho and Han Jiho, eyes sparkling with excitement, grabbed the hands of Choi Kang-woo and Han Na-eun to set off for the amusement park. The tree branches lining the road were coated in snow flowers, and the cold nipped sharply at the tips of their noses.
The two children chattered incessantly all the way to the park, occasionally letting go of their guardians’ hands to gesture wildly or clasp each other’s small fingers. Inside the car, Choi Kang-woo glanced at Han Na-eun, who sat in the passenger seat, imprinting her profile into his memory.
They had only just started dating. He hadn’t said it outright, but his heart had already begun to beat solely for her. Yet, this heartless woman had asked for time. Even so, he was acting pathetic, telling himself he understood, waiting quietly in the wings.
In the past, or with any other woman, this level of restraint would have been unthinkable.
Since it was his first time at an amusement park, Minho looked at Han Jiho with eyes full of anticipation. “Jiho-ya, is the amusement park really that big?”
Han Jiho nodded. Spreading her arms wide, she declared, “It’s this big! This big!”
Choi Kang-woo, watching Minho from the side, spoke up. “Minho-ya, this is my first time going, too.”
Minho’s eyes went wide. “Really? Grown-ups go to amusement parks for the first time?”
Choi Kang-woo nodded. “Yeah. I went when I was very, very young, so I don’t even remember it. This is my first time going as an adult.”
“My mom is an adult, but she’s been lots of times.”
Han Na-eun laughed at the remark. “Minho Samchon is just busy, that’s why.”
“Mom is busy every day, too, but she’s been to the amusement park a lot.”
Choi Kang-woo had no counter to Han Jiho’s impeccable logic. “That’s true. That’s why Samchon is going to take you guys to the amusement park a lot from now on.”
At his words, Han Jiho and Minho cheered with joy.
When they reached the entrance, colorful flags caught their eyes. Choi Kang-woo suddenly recalled his own childhood, a time when he had been just as thrilled to be here. Watching the two children dash toward the gate, he reached out and took Han Na-eun’s hand. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.
“Is this okay?”
“What could possibly be wrong with it?”
“What if someone sees us? Someone the Chairman knows, or someone who knows me?”
“Does that bother you that much?”
Han Na-eun replied as if it were obvious. “Of course. What happens if I get fired for holding hands with the Chairman in public? I think you know better than anyone how precise and scary the Chairman’s mother is.”
“So, you’re more worried about my mother than you are about me, and you find her scarier?”
“Of course. She’s the one who can fire me.”
“Do you think I can’t fire you?”
“Surely you wouldn’t be so petty as to fire me just for not holding hands, would you?”
“Yes. I could do that.”
Han Na-eun laughed. “I guess I have no choice but to hold your hand to avoid your abuse of power.” She reclaimed his hand, asking, “Are you happy now?”
“Is this job that important to you?”
“Of course. Where else would I find a job like this? Remember, the contract is for at least three years.”
At that, Choi Kang-woo burst into laughter.
The winter chill meant nothing to the four of them, fueled as they were by sheer excitement. However, once inside, they hit an obstacle: the giant animal-shaped balloons. When Han Jiho and Minho insisted on buying them, Choi Kang-woo said quite gallantly, “Pick whatever you want.” He just hadn’t expected them to choose the massive, display-only ones.
The balloon options ranged from small to oversized. While the standard ones were rabbits or puppies, the largest in the lot was a monkey. As the children began to bicker over who would get the giant one, Han Na-eun stepped in.
“If you two start fighting right now, we’re just going to go back home.”
The children looked at her nervously.
“How about you get the puppy balloon, and you get the rabbit balloon?”
“I don’t want it.”
“I don’t want it either.”
“Then how about both of you get puppy balloons?”
“No. I wish we could have that one at our house.” Han Jiho pointed to the giant monkey.
Choi Kang-woo intervened. “Why are you worrying? If we keep it at our house, both kids can play with it. Tell me, you two—do you want the smaller balloons, or should we bring the biggest one home?”
“The monkey balloon!” they shouted in unison.
“Alright then.” A moment later, Choi Kang-woo walked out, looking slightly absurd as he carried the towering balloon. “Alright. Who wants to hold it?”
The children, forgetting their recent demands, had already drifted toward a nearby cotton candy stall.
“I want this! Cotton candy!” Han Jiho chirped.
Minho stared at the treat, fascinated by something he was seeing for the first time. Han Na-eun leaned toward him. “Minho-ya, this is candy. It’s candy that looks like cotton. Do you want to eat some?”
“Yes.”
When Minho replied, Han Na-eun bought two and handed them to the children. Choi Kang-woo approached them. “Why did you only buy two? Are you not going to have any, Na-eun-ssi?”
“I don’t really enjoy it, but would you like some, Chairman?”
“Well, I’m not going to buy cotton candy just to eat it by myself.”
In truth, he had wanted to share some with her. He hadn’t known he harbored such a romantic notion, but seeing couples sharing cotton candy here, he had suddenly wanted to share one with Han Na-eun at least once. Since she wasn’t interested, his desire evaporated.
The problem was the children. The cotton candy was bigger than their faces, and as they insisted on sticking their tongues out to eat it, the sugary fluff ended up plastered all over their skin. Watching Han Na-eun tend to the children, Choi Kang-woo noticed passersby glancing at him.
He wondered why, then realized it was the giant monkey balloon. Carrying it, he felt like a stationary landmark. “Are you kids not going to take your balloon? You said you wanted it.”
“How are we supposed to hold it? Our hands are a mess.”
He knew that if they waited until they finished eating, their hands and faces would be a total disaster. Han Na-eun told them to stop, then pulled out wet wipes to clean them up. The children were happy, licking the sticky remnants of sugar off their own faces.
It felt like a dream. Watching Han Na-eun wipe their faces while he stood by holding the monkey balloon, Choi Kang-woo felt as though he had stepped into a fairy tale. Every inch of space where Han Na-eun stood seemed transformed. He was living in the happiest scene of a storybook—a moment he had never even dared to imagine.
“What are you doing? Aren’t we going?”
“Yes. We should go.”
The children were already ahead. Walking beside Han Na-eun as she hurried to catch up, Choi Kang-woo smiled. “We’ll catch up in no time. Don’t worry.”
With a few long, easy strides, he overtook the children and offered a gentle warning. “Do you know what happens if you get separated from Sam’chon and Teacher here?”
Minho looked genuinely frightened. “So, what should you do?”
Minho tightly grabbed his uncle’s hand with his small one. Then, looking up at the balloon Choi Kang-woo was holding, he smiled. “It’s cool.”
“Right? It’s cool, isn’t it?”
Every time the child spoke, his heart warmed. It was all because of the woman named Han Na-eun, who was like the protagonist of a storybook. Seeing Han Jiho take Minho’s hand and the three of them walking side by side, Han Na-eun beamed from behind.
“Let’s ride two rides and then eat.”
“That sounds good. I want to ride that one first.”
It was the roller coaster. Choi Kang-woo grinned. When Han Na-eun remarked that it was dangerous and they shouldn’t, he insisted it was fine and led them toward the attraction.
The roller coaster had height restrictions for safety. Choi Kang-woo took the children to the measurement station.
“Alright. Let’s see how tall you are. Minho, come here. Hmm. I guess not. Minho is shorter than the height required. Jiho, come here. Alright. You’re not tall enough either.”
Explaining it clearly was a better approach than simply saying no. The children looked disappointed. Han Jiho sighed, “If I were just a little taller, it would have worked.”
“In my opinion, you’d need to be a year older to be tall enough.”
The height difference wasn’t just a little—it was nearly a whole span.