Autumn Calculus

Ch.29.

Eun-ji had spent the past few days in a haze, her mind consumed by the conversation with her parents and the weight of the decision that lay ahead. She couldn't shake the feeling that her life was being pulled in different directions—toward the family business, toward her own dreams, and toward something she wasn't yet sure of with Ji-hoon.

Despite her internal struggle, there were moments of clarity, like when she and Ji-hoon spent an afternoon walking through a quiet park, their hands brushing occasionally as they talked about anything and everything. Those moments made everything else feel less important, reminding her of what truly mattered: connection, understanding, and the person who stood by her side.

"I don't know what to do," Eun-ji confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as they sat on a bench near a small pond. "I love my parents, but I'm scared that if I follow their expectations, I'll lose myself."

Ji-hoon turned to her, his gaze steady and filled with empathy. "Eun-ji, you're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to want something for yourself. But don't forget, you don't have to choose one over the other. You can find a way to balance both your future and your dreams."

She leaned back against the bench, taking in his words. It was a perspective she hadn't fully considered before—perhaps it wasn't about choosing one path but finding a way to make them coexist.

"I don't know if I can do it all," she admitted, her voice full of doubt.

Ji-hoon gave her a reassuring smile, his eyes warm. "You don't have to do it all at once. Take your time. But know that I believe in you. Whatever path you choose, I'll be there, supporting you every step of the way."

Eun-ji smiled, feeling the weight in her chest lift slightly. She had always been so focused on making everyone else happy, but Ji-hoon's words reminded her that her happiness was just as important.

---

That night, after they parted ways, Eun-ji found herself reflecting on everything—her parents' expectations, her own desires, and Ji-hoon's unwavering support. She realized that she didn't need to have all the answers right now. It was okay to be uncertain. What mattered was that she was no longer alone in her journey.

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly checked the message. It was from her mother, simply saying: "Can you come home this weekend? Your father and I need to talk to you."

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this it? The moment she would have to make her decision? She stared at the message for a long time before replying.

"I'll be there," she typed, her fingers trembling.

---

When the weekend arrived, Eun-ji made the trip home, her mind spinning with possibilities. She wasn't sure what her parents had planned, but she knew she had to face it head-on.

As soon as she arrived, her mother greeted her with a warm hug, but Eun-ji could tell there was something different in the air. Her father sat in the living room, his expression serious but not unkind.

"Eun-ji," her father began, his voice calm. "Your mother and I have been talking about your future, and we want to discuss something important."

Eun-ji's stomach tightened. She took a seat, her eyes flickering between her parents.

"We've been thinking about the business," her mother continued softly. "And we want to know if you would be willing to take on more responsibility. We believe you're ready to help us with the next stage of the company."

The words hit her like a wave, overwhelming and unexpected. She had never considered this, never thought it would come so soon. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Her father spoke again. "We know it's a big decision, and we don't want to pressure you. But we think it's time you start thinking about your role in the family business."

Eun-ji felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her, but she also felt a part of herself wanting to reject it, wanting to stay true to her own dreams. The thought of giving up everything for the business was suffocating.

"I'm not sure," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I've always focused on my studies. I don't know if I'm ready for something like this."

Her father's gaze softened. "We understand, Eun-ji. But we've always believed in you. We just want you to think about it."

---

Later that evening, after a quiet dinner with her parents, Eun-ji found herself in her old room, staring out the window, her thoughts racing. She picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she tried to find the right words.

Finally, she sent a message to Ji-hoon: "Can we talk tonight? I need your advice."

Within minutes, his reply came: "Of course. I'll be there in 30 minutes."

---

As she waited, Eun-ji realized that no matter what decision she made, she had someone who truly understood her, someone who wouldn't push her to be something she wasn't. Ji-hoon had become her anchor, her safe space in a world full of uncertainty.

When Ji-hoon arrived, they went straight to her room, where the familiar warmth of his presence instantly put her at ease. She shared everything—the conversation with her parents, the pressure she was feeling, and the confusion that had been eating away at her.

"I don't want to disappoint them," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "But I'm so scared of losing myself in the process."

Ji-hoon looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "Eun-ji, you don't have to choose between them and yourself. It's not about what they want or what you want—it's about finding a way to make both work."

Eun-ji's heart swelled as she looked at him. He didn't have all the answers, but in that moment, his words were everything she needed to hear.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Ji-hoon smiled, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "You'll never have to find out."