MOD 3

Chapter 3

Those words were not her true feelings.

Seoyoung was someone who believed in love more than anyone else. Someone who believed that the most important thing in the world was, ultimately, one’s heart—love.

Perhaps that was why.

Among her many translation projects, she was happiest when translating romance novels. Sentences that warmed the heart, desperate glances directed at one another, emotions that couldn’t quite be reached with words alone. In every moment she translated those, Seoyoung felt that she was alive.

“I’ll fall in love someday, too.”

Seoyoung used to say so, picturing that day in her heart. But right now, she was Jooyoung. She had to erase all of Seoyoung’s emotions, doubts, and opinions.

Dojin, having heard the answer he wanted, smiled faintly for the first time. Though that smile was cold, strangely, a peculiar sense of relief was embedded within it.

“Very well. Then let’s go ahead with the marriage. On the condition that we continue not to cross each other’s boundaries in the future.”

Upon the conditions set by her sister, she stood today with a different set of emotions.

Though she didn’t know what name to give those emotions just yet.

Dojin silently observed her as she nodded without a word.

Her expression was neat, and her gaze didn’t waver much. Yet somewhere, it was slightly off. Where had the bold audacity that had provoked him relentlessly during their last meeting vanished to?

“Why are you so quiet?”

Seoyoung tried hard not to panic. She attempted to lift the corners of her lips, but it felt unnatural somewhere. Dojin didn’t miss even that minute movement of hers.

“Your expression has changed a bit, too. Before, when you smiled, you only slightly raised the left corner of your lips. Now, you raise both sides.”

At those words, Seoyoung felt her breath hitch.

He was right. Jooyoung was the type to only raise the left corner of her mouth when she smiled.

Dojin accurately remembered even such a minor habit—one that even she, as the twin sister who had secretly lived wishing to become Jooyoung, had forgotten about.

“You have a great memory for having met only once briefly.”

Though she brushed it off with a forced smile, it felt as if the inside of her cheeks were drying up.

She couldn’t—she couldn’t act like Jooyoung in front of this man any longer. Seoyoung stood up from her seat as if fleeing.

“I’m not feeling well. My apologies.”

Dojin slowly stood up following Seoyoung.

“Then let’s part ways for today. As for the wedding date—”

“You decide and let me know.”

Afraid the conversation would drag on, Seoyoung passed the decision to Dojin. She produced as calm a voice as possible, but the fingertips hidden behind her back were trembling.

“Please leave first. I’ll leave in a little bit.”

Dojin looked at her silently for a moment before nodding his head. Once he vanished from her sight, Seoyoung slowly dropped her head like a person who had been holding her breath and let out a deep sigh.

“Phew…”

Because she had been stiff with tension without even leaning her back against the chair’s backrest, every single joint in her shoulders and nape was stiffly sore.

Her legs were trembling too much to leave right away. Seoyoung’s hands were also still quivering slightly. Her drained lips were pale white.

Dojin seemed to be a sharp man.

It was difficult for her to instantly imitate the aura Jooyoung had carried all her life. But the two were identical twins with perfectly identical faces and body types. At the shop she had been dragged to almost forcefully by Su-ae’s hand, she had copied Jooyoung’s C-curl hairstyle exactly.

In accordance with her parents’ wishes, Seoyoung had faithfully erased her own existence.

‘I didn’t get caught… did I?’

The “tone of voice,” “smiling habit,” and “facial expression” he had pointed out—all of them plunged into her chest like sharp pins, making her feel suffocated.

‘To think he remembered to this extent…’

Seoyoung lifted her water glass with a trembling hand. She tried to take a sip, but her hand refused to listen. When the water inside the cup wobbled precariously, she had no choice but to set it back down.

‘No, I can’t break down now.’

She told herself so, but somewhere deep inside her heart, a crack had already formed.

If it were Jooyoung, she might have brushed off all those questions as if they were nothing.

She wouldn’t have avoided his gaze, and even her smile would have been flawless. But she wasn’t Jooyoung. She had never been such a person, nor had she ever worn such a face.

Seoyoung closed her eyes.

Something hot welled up over her eyelids. Drip. A single teardrop fell, and only then did Seoyoung realize she was crying.

“Why am I here?”

The moment she whispered while biting her lip, her breath caught at the top of her throat.

The reality of having to borrow a name, expressions, and even a life was miserable, overwhelming, and hard to bear.

The resentment that had seeped out toward her parents, who refused to see her as anything more than Jooyoung’s substitute until the very end, and her twisted longing toward Jooyoung had brought her all the way here.

However, she ultimately came to realize the tragic reality.

She was not Han Jooyoung; she was Han Seoyoung.

A name ignored since the day she was born. Even if it was an unwelcome life, she had never dreamed of living this kind of life.

She covered her face with both hands—so the world wouldn’t be visible, so the sound of her breathing couldn’t be heard. Only then did the emotions she had kept hidden begin to slowly seep out.

The moment she returned home, what greeted her was Hyungjin’s blunt voice.

“Did the meeting go well?”

Seoyoung nodded as she took off her shoes at the entryway.

“Yes.”

Hyungjin asked no further. As long as the marriage alliance with Taesan Group could be carried forward, that was enough. How tense and difficult Seoyoung had felt at the meeting with Dojin was not a matter of his concern.

“Then, go eat.”

Seoyoung carefully took steps toward the dining table. She could feel the warmth from the prepared meal. Steam was still rising softly from the soup, and the side dishes were neatly arranged.

Three-colored seasoned vegetables, appetizingly grilled mackerel, and even jabchae, which required a lot of effort—it was a table setting that showed care.

Yet in that moment, a sudden thought seeped into her mind:

‘Unnie must have grown up receiving meals like this all the time.’

Even on ordinary days, she would have sat indifferently before a meal prepared like this.

Unnie must have been someone to whom her father’s quiet gaze, her mother’s questions, and hands placing side dishes for her were all natural and familiar.

Seoyoung paused just as she was picking up her chopsticks. She had never once been called for a meal like this.

In the narrow room next to the kitchen where the sun didn’t even shine, eating the leftover side dishes her family had left behind was her daily routine. There was never an instance where someone scooped rice first and placed it in front of her.

‘How happy must Unnie have been?’

The thought that only surfaced internally pained her even more.

The warm daily life her sister had enjoyed. The attention and consideration given as a matter of course.

Seoyoung was experiencing all of it on her sister’s behalf only now, when her sister had lost consciousness.

Yet she knew better than anyone else that none of this was meant for her.

That it was merely thanks to the name ‘Jooyoung.’

That was why she felt even hungrier. More than warm soup, she desperately craved a single word meant solely for herself.

But someone like me couldn’t possibly hope for such a thing.

Seoyoung silently scooped up a spoonful of soup.

Deeper than the taste spreading inside her mouth, the loneliness spreading within her was far stronger.