🔊 TTS Settings
Episode 19
Fortunately, it wasn’t her older brother, Seon-gyu.
…No, was that really something to be thankful for?
Yeoreum stiffened as she looked at Hyunjae.
He was staring alternately at Yeogyeom, her, and Hwapyeong.
Yeoreum couldn’t avoid his gaze.
And so, her flustered, panicked expression was laid bare before him.
She wanted to explain the situation, but her lips refused to open.
She understood exactly what Hyunjae was misunderstanding.
He was glaring at her with eyes full of betrayal, suspicion, and anger.
Yeoreum rubbed her chilled fingertips and approached him.
“Um, Director—”
“Who is he?”
Once again, Hwapyeong was quicker.
The children’s eyes—Yeogyeom’s gaze fixed on his bewildered mother, Hwapyeong’s full of curiosity, and Hyunjae’s expressionless stare—all converged on Yeoreum.
This time, Hyunjae answered first.
“He’s my superior at work.”
“Oh, from Onjo Foods? But what brings you to Yeoreum’s house?”
“Work-related notice.”
His voice was flat, but the look he gave Hwapyeong was chillingly cold.
“Tomorrow’s lesson is canceled.”
“……”
“No, for the time being, due to scheduling issues, lessons will be difficult. So don’t come to work this week.”
It was such a different tone from just a few minutes ago, as if he weren’t even the same person.
He sounded like he was addressing not a colleague or interpreter, but something less than human. The dry tone pierced Yeoreum’s chest.
His sudden surge of anger was vivid and undeniable.
“Your family seems to be waiting for you, so let’s leave it at that.”
Hyunjae got into his car.
The door slammed, the engine roared, and without hesitation, the car drove off.
Yeoreum stared blankly after the retreating vehicle, when Hwapyeong came up beside her.
“Was that the VIP you’re interpreting for?”
“Yes.”
“Why is he so cold? Something he could’ve said over the phone, and he came all the way to your house? How does he even know where you live?”
Hwapyeong muttered irritably, unable to grasp the situation.
Hyunjae, when closely observed, had fine, delicate features. But without a smile, his expression was cold.
And because he had acted so coldly, there was no way Hwapyeong could think well of him.
Yeoreum sighed and picked up Yeogyeom, who clung to her leg.
“That uncle looks scary.”
“It’s okay.”
She forced a small smile, stroking Yeogyeom’s head.
Hwapyeong eyed her closely.
“Does he give you a hard time?”
“No.”
Her slightly annoyed tone shut Hwapyeong’s mouth.
He looked like he had plenty more to say, but instead, he shifted the grocery bags on his wrist and reached out.
“Give me Yeogyeom. I’ll carry him.”
“No, but what about Seon-gyu oppa?”
“He got called suddenly to the office while shopping. Lucky I ran into him, or he’d have had to go straight back home empty-handed.”
“I see.”
On the way back, Hwapyeong talked constantly, as if sensing Yeoreum’s dizziness.
He cracked jokes here and there, but she couldn’t laugh.
“Yeoreum, are you sick? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
Her words didn’t match how she felt—her stomach churned, her body felt weak.
With every step, Hyunjae’s expression replayed vividly in her mind.
He must have been hurt…
No matter what she said now, it wouldn’t erase the misunderstanding.
Everything looked like what it was—except that Hwapyeong wasn’t her husband.
And she hadn’t told him she had a child. It was natural for him to think she had deceived him.
‘If you keep allowing things like that, people start to expect more.’
Hyunjae had been right.
It was her fault for not cleanly cutting ties.
Because he resembled Suha, she hadn’t been able to push him away completely.
She had dismissed his feelings as insincere, yet they had kissed twice—even if by mistake—and let the relationship drag on.
She had rationalized their emotional exchanges as nothing more than a VIP-interpreter bond.
If only she had been honest from the start, when he first confessed his feelings.
If only she had explained why she had cried upon first meeting him, and why they had ended up kissing.
But now, all she could do was regret—her mind replayed only Hyunjae’s desolate expression.
The next day.
“Oh? Ms. Yeoreum, weren’t you off work this week?”
“Yeah, what brings you here?”
Yeoreum had come to the office as usual.
With a China business trip ahead, she didn’t have much paperwork—most of it she could have handled from home. Myungjun had even encouraged her to work remotely.
But since she had taken on additional Chinese lessons with Hyunjae, her schedule changed, and she was almost always in the office.
“I heard the Director canceled lessons? Didn’t he tell you?”
“Yes, I heard. But I left a file on my computer.”
“You could’ve just called me to send it to you.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re really hardworking, you know that?”
To their praise, Yeoreum gave a stiff smile.
Though she had all files neatly organized on her external hard drive, she sat at her desk pretending to check documents.
But her gaze lingered on the door to Hyunjae’s office.
“Ms. Jiwon, take this to the Director, please.”
As always, Myungjun handed over a tray with fresh juice.
Every morning, Hyunjae started his day with that juice.
But Jiwon was too focused on drafting a report, and didn’t respond until Myungjun tapped her desk.
“Jiwon?”
“Yes?”
“This—take it to the Director.”
“Ah, yes.”
Just as Jiwon rose, Yeoreum abruptly stood up.
“I’ll go.”
“Huh? You, Ms. Yeoreum?”
“Yes. Ms. Jiwon seems busy, I’ll take it. I also have something to report to the Director.”
Suspicion flashed in Myungjun’s eyes, then turned into an “ah” of understanding. He handed her the tray.
Jiwon gave Yeoreum a playful wink of thanks.
Holding the tray, Yeoreum knocked softly. A faint voice told her to come in.
She exhaled deeply before turning the knob.
The door closed behind her. Hyunjae, glancing from his tablet, barely looked at her.
“Leave it there.”
He didn’t even ask why she had come. He just jerked his chin toward the sofa table.
His low voice was even deeper than usual.
Yeoreum set the tray down where he indicated and then approached his desk.
“I have something to say.”
“Go ahead.”
He still didn’t look at her.
The speed at which he flipped through his tablet was merciless.
The night before, Yeoreum had stayed awake, thinking over and over again, and finally made her decision.
She would confess everything.
Explain the misunderstandings. Apologize for what she had failed to say.
Whatever judgment he passed, she would accept it.
But where to begin? If she started at the beginning, she would need to bring up Suha…
“—If this is about yesterday, there’s no need to explain. I don’t want to know.”
His eyes skimmed past her, dismissive.
A wall had suddenly risen between them—a line that could not be crossed.
She felt thrown away without even being given a chance to speak.
“If you have nothing else to say, please leave.”
“Director.”
“Did your mother put you up to this? Did she send you here just to spite me?”
His inexplicable words made her eyelids tremble.
“If that’s the case, tell her she’s mistaken. I’m not the kind of bastard who preys on married women with children.”
His cynical tone was like a sharpened blade.
His eyes regarded her as if she were something filthy.
“What are you looking at like that? Did you really think I would keep chasing after you if I knew you were a married woman?”
“I’m not.”
“Turns out your self-awareness was a bit inflated, Ms. Ryu Yeoreum. Does your husband know how you behave at work?”
“……”
“When I came to your house yesterday, should I have told him? ‘I’m here because I want to kiss your wife.’”
He let out a laugh, but neither his mouth nor eyes showed any mirth.
“Leave. Before I really make a scene.”
