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Episode 18
Their eyes met.
Yeoreum stood and bowed politely, but Hyeonjae quickly looked away, turning his gaze elsewhere.
He passed her without pause and went straight to Myeongjun.
“Weren’t we scheduled to visit the Hwaseong factory at eleven?”
“Yes.”
“Can we move it up by about thirty minutes?”
“Of course. I’ll contact the plant manager. Are you heading into the executive meeting right after?”
“Yes.”
Myeongjun scrambled to gather the necessary documents and hurried after Hyeonjae.
Secretary Kim also excused himself and followed.
A little later, Jiwon emerged from the supply room, holding the packet of medicine Myeongjun had given her earlier.
“Did the director take his medication?”
“No. He said it wasn’t serious enough.”
Jiwon dismissed it casually and pulled out her chair.
If he said he was fine, then surely he was fine.
Shaking off her unnecessary thoughts, Yeoreum buried herself in work.
In the end, Yeoreum didn’t see Hyeonjae at all that day.
He had gone straight from the executive meeting to the factory inspection and then left work immediately after.
The next day—and the day after that—were no different.
He was constantly tied up with external schedules, and even when they did cross paths, it was nothing more than a fleeting exchange of greetings.
That evening, Yeoreum returned home and, by habit, picked up her phone, staring blankly at the screen.
[Arrived safely] – 7:01 PM
[That’s a relief. You worked hard again today.] – 7:01 PM
[Arrived safely] – 6:56 PM
[Good. Enjoy your dinner.] – 6:56 PM
[Arrived safely] – 7:48 PM
[You’re late today. You must be tired—rest well.] – 7:49 PM
[Arrived safely] – 7:07 PM
[Arrived safely] – 6:40 PM
[Arrived safely] – 7:12 PM
The last three messages she had sent remained unread.
Except for that night when she had slapped him and run, Yeoreum had kept her promise, sending a message every evening after work.
And each time, his reply had come almost instantly—as if he’d been waiting for her message.
But now, he wasn’t even reading them.
It could be because he was busy, but ignoring them for three days straight? That was deliberate avoidance.
Especially since she knew he had been exchanging texts with other secretaries, it was undeniable.
From the moment he avoided her eyes, Hyeonjae had been intentionally creating distance.
Perhaps it was for the better.
The dream of Suha had been unsettling enough, and maybe it was time to draw a firm line with Hyeonjae.
She didn’t need to explain or justify what had happened. If he chose to bury it, then so would she.
Besides, if he wasn’t even reading her messages, there was no point sending them anymore.
“Starting today, I’ll just stop,” she muttered, tossing her phone onto the bed and changing clothes.
But less than an hour later, she was clutching her phone again.
Not because she missed him—just because she was bored.
Yegyeom and Seongyu, who had gone to the supermarket, still hadn’t returned.
Scrolling idly through a few trending articles, she jumped at the sound of an alert.
It was from Hyeonjae.
Her finger betrayed her, tapping the notification and opening the chat window before she could think.
[Did you get home safely?]
She groaned, grabbing her hair.
Why now, of all times?
It looked as though she had been waiting for his message, checking instantly. Her ears burned with embarrassment.
Still, she had no choice but to reply.
[Yes, I arrived safely.]
[But why haven’t you been texting?]
[I thought you were busy…]
[Busy, yes. But not so busy I couldn’t check messages.]
That meant he had seen all her texts, and deliberately ignored them.
Her cheeks flushed hot as she began typing, but then froze.
Through her window, she noticed a familiar car parked under the streetlight at the villa’s entrance.
A car impossible not to recognize.
She leaned out the window.
Quickly, she typed:
[Are you at my place right now?]
[No.]
But just as his reply came through, his car headlights flicked on.
[Don’t bother denying it. I can see you, Director.]
[I thought I’d slip away quietly, but you caught me.]
She almost laughed at the absurdity. Who brought a Bugatti Chiron to an old villa and expected to “slip away quietly”?
Another message arrived.
[Want to come down?]
Yeoreum threw on a cardigan and hurried downstairs.
Hyeonjae was waiting a short distance from the villa’s entrance, still dressed exactly as he had been at work.
“Nice pants.”
He teased, smirking at the checkered pajama bottoms peeking out beneath her long cardigan.
Compared to his immaculate suit, she felt painfully underdressed.
She bit her lip, embarrassed.
“I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“Oh… I should’ve texted, then.”
If she had known he’d care this much, she might have.
“I’ll make sure to send them from now on.”
Hyeonjae chuckled softly.
“That’s not the point. I should’ve told you to stop caring. From the start, I was the one being unreasonable.”
“If you keep allowing it like this, it just makes me hope for more. Should I keep hoping?”
Yeoreum couldn’t answer.
He gave a cold, knowing smile, as if expecting her silence.
In the pause that followed, she noticed a faint mark on his cheek.
It was the side she had slapped.
Though mostly healed, the scratch from her nail remained.
Sensing her gaze, he raised a hand to cover it.
“Cut myself shaving.”
But the mark was too high on his cheek for that.
Clearly, it was from her.
It was the first time she had seen the injury up close. Guilt tightened her chest.
“I’m sorry. That night, I—”
“You did the right thing.”
He cut her off flatly.
“If you don’t like something, say it clearly. And when a guy loses his mind, the most effective place to kick is here.”
His eyes flicked down at his lower body.
Her face blazed.
Silence settled again.
As she pulled her cardigan tighter against the chilly air, his voice slipped out quietly.
“I’m sorry too. I drank too much that night.”
“….”
“And the porridge… it was delicious.”
She let out a small laugh, finally relieved.
“So you ate it. I’m glad. Please don’t drink so much anymore—you don’t handle it well.”
“Pfft. Yeah.”
He laughed lightly, nodding.
“I usually only drink when I can’t sleep. But it never really helps.”
“Do you have insomnia?”
“Something like that.”
Worry clouded her expression. He shrugged casually.
“I’ve had it so long, I think of it like an old friend now.”
He meant it as a joke, but Yeoreum didn’t smile.
She knew too well how destructive irregular sleep could be.
Just as she was about to say something, she felt a sudden weight at her knee.
“Mom!!”
It was Yegyeom.
Yeoreum froze.
She lifted her eyes slowly. Hyeonjae was staring, his face twisted in shock and disbelief.
The moment felt like a car crash—violent, unavoidable, impossible to react to.
She had never intended to keep Yegyeom a secret.
If anything, telling him from the start would have been the clearest way to reject him.
But how could she explain everything—her kiss with him, Suha, her child—without laying bare the whole truth?
So she had stayed silent, believing firm rejection alone would be enough.
“Mom?”
His voice was ice cold.
And before she could answer, another voice called from behind her.
“Yegyeom, I told you not to run like that—oh? Yeoreum? I thought you said you were home. Why are you outside?”
“…Oh, Oppa.”
“Yegyeom wanted half the supermarket. These bags? All his snacks.”
It was Hwapyeong, both hands full of grocery bags.
