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Chapter 25
When they arrived home, Gyeol stepped out of the car without resistance. But instead of going straight inside, he stood there, staring blankly at Yujeong as she pulled the parked car out.
Ah… so this is what it’s like—to keep wanting to look at the person you like.
He had acted out countless love stories, yet had never experienced his own. During his school years he had focused solely on studying; in college, the pressure of the family business had kept him buried in books. After that, he devoted himself to acting, and before he knew it he had become a top star, leaving him no time to meet someone and fall in love.
Knock, knock, knock.
Gyeol walked up to the car that had paused briefly and tapped on the driver’s window. Yujeong rolled it down. He liked the way she looked straight at him. It made him wish time would just stop like this. But when his gaze drifted to her red lips, his face grew so hot it felt like it might burst.
“What is it?”
At her question, he stiffened like a broken robot.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
It was such a sudden question that even he felt embarrassed. He had only arrived after the second reception ended, so he hadn’t eaten, but Yujeong had likely been there since the first part. Even so, he asked because he didn’t want to part with her.
“I’m fine—”
Grrr.
At that moment, a strange sound came from Yujeong’s stomach. As she bit her lip, her face flushing bright red, he broke into a grin.
“If you’ve got time, do you want to come up and have dinner?”
“Ah…”
Yujeong couldn’t bring herself to refuse and nodded. He slowly stepped away from the car, and Yujeong, who had been pulling out, took the time to park again. Watching her car quietly, his expression hardened. Thinking about how she must have gone around all day for her younger sibling and spouse without even eating made his chest ache. His chest hurt—so why did he feel happy too?
Thud.
Yujeong got out of the car and walked toward him. She was the very reason he’d ended up soaked in alcohol late into last night, yet strangely, he didn’t dislike seeing her approach. In fact, all he wanted was to hold on to her so she wouldn’t move away.
“Dropping by like this all of a sudden feels like I’m imposing…”
“It’s because I don’t want to eat alone. I’ll be the one imposing. You, Chae Yujeong, just sit next to me and eat with me.”
His tone was playful, but his feelings were sincere. He was afraid she might reject him.
“When you put it like that, I guess I shouldn’t say anything more.”
Though hesitant, Yujeong didn’t seem to dislike it and didn’t refuse. Gyeol pressed the elevator button, and Yujeong glanced around awkwardly. Then their eyes met by chance. In that moment, looking at her, Gyeol was certain: he could no longer run away from this unfamiliar feeling.
Yujeong stayed by his side in the kitchen. He told her she could just sit like a guest and be served, so why come all the way into the kitchen? But she couldn’t shake the worry that he might hurt himself while cooking.
“Do you usually enjoy cooking?”
“I kind of have to, if I want to eat.”
When he smiled softly, Yujeong paused.
“Can’t you eat food made by your family?”
“There are people who cook at home. It’s rare for my mother or father to cook, and Jeong-o has zero interest in cooking. He only knows how to eat.”
“Ah.”
He glanced at Yujeong as she nodded slightly and grinned.
“But you don’t need to worry about my sister-in-law. Jeong-o may not care about cooking, but he cares a lot about taste. He lives with professional chefs. She won’t have a hard time.”
At his words, Yujeong gave a faint smile, a little embarrassed that her concern for Seola had been so transparent.
“That’s not what I meant, exactly…”
Her voice grew small with awkwardness, but Gyeol didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s fine. I know Chae Yujeong’s feelings toward Min Seola better than anyone.”
Yujeong let out a small laugh. He had been the one who saved her the day she jumped into the sea in Seola’s place. Just as he said, he might understand her feelings best. She’d acted like she was fine, but that day she had truly been terrified.
“Is there any food you like? What do you usually eat?”
At his one-sided questions, Yujeong tilted her head. She herself was the type who had little interest in food or taste, so she didn’t really have an answer.
“I eat pretty much anything.”
After her mother died, nothing she ate felt happy. The food she wanted most to eat was always with her mother, so when she did eat something good, all she could do was briefly think of her late mother. She couldn’t name any favorite food.
“I’m curious. What you like, what you usually prefer—and whether you have any allergies.”
When Gyeol said that and met her eyes, he slowly looked away. Feeling the atmosphere grow a bit awkward, Yujeong touched the back of her neck.
“What about you, Gyeol?”
“What I eat most is chicken breast. Diet management, you know.”
She snickered at that. He looked wronged and grabbed his shirt, lifting it to show his stomach. When Yujeong blinked in surprise at the sharply defined abs, his face flushed red and he quickly turned away.
“So it’s not a body that just happened by accident. I think I’ve seen it in a photoshoot before, but seeing it like this—it feels even more unreal.”
She’d only been chattering to ease his embarrassment, but the more she spoke, the redder his ears became. That youthful look kept her gaze lingering on his face.
“When I want something different, I eat pasta. Whole wheat noodles.”
He gestured toward a container of whole wheat pasta, and Yujeong’s eyes followed it briefly. She’d always thought he only worked; it was her first time having a conversation like this—about favorite foods or eating habits—so she suddenly felt awkward.
“And?”
“I like cream spaghetti, but I don’t eat it often because of the calories. Heavy cream is a burden, and I regret it afterward.”
She had nothing to offer in return, while he spoke so easily about trivial things. The feeling was strange—almost unfair.
“One thing that comes to mind is tomatoes I ate in the summer.”
“Tomatoes?”
“I haven’t eaten them once since my mom passed away, but whenever I think of a food, those tomatoes come to mind.”
It was the first time she’d said something like this, and it felt awkward. She’d gone on countless blind dates, yet not a single person had asked what foods she liked or what her tastes were. That was why this conversation with Gyeol felt unfamiliar—and yet not unpleasant.
“What kind of tomatoes were they?”
At his light question, she answered just as lightly.
“I know how to make them. I just… don’t want to eat them alone, so I don’t make them. That kind of tomato dish.”
“There are tomatoes at home. Want to make dessert, Chae Yujeong?”
“Is that okay? I thought you couldn’t eat food made by others.”
He nodded at her words, looking surprised even at himself.
“Exactly. I can’t eat food made by others—but for some reason, I think I could eat the tomatoes you make.”
After hearing that, Yujeong couldn’t bring herself to say no.
“I’ll need sugar and a torch. It can be high in calories, too…”
As she spoke, Gyeol placed sugar, a torch, and tomatoes in front of her. It was a dish she used to make with her mother, one she’d avoided all this time. Yujeong hesitated, while Gyeol kept focusing on cooking. Even when chopping a single onion, his cuts were neat and uniform, and he cleaned as he cooked. It really did look like he handled everything himself.
“Don’t call me later saying you lost muscle.”
At her reluctant remark, he chuckled.
“Sounds like you’re confident in your cooking.”
“It’s simple, but it’s delicious. So good you lose all restraint once you start eating.”
Saying that, Yujeong sliced the tomatoes thinly. She arranged them neatly on a plate and put them in the refrigerator.
“Done. I’ll finish it off when we eat. That’s the end of my cooking.”
He tilted his head, clearly doubtful of the tomato dish. But Yujeong was confident. It was once a dish her mother had proudly served—and now one she could confidently serve herself.
After some time, the two sat down to the meal he had prepared. Perhaps because they’d eaten Western food at the hotel, his Korean dishes were especially comforting. Nothing extravagant, but even the lightly fried oysters were delicious, as was the onion-based sauce. The shepherd’s purse soybean paste stew was excellent, too.
“Thank you for the meal.”
As Yujeong spoke, he took the tomatoes out of the fridge. While he went to get forks, she sprinkled sugar over the neatly lined tomatoes and melted it with the torch. When he stood there watching awkwardly, she cracked the hardened sugar with a fork and held out a tomato to him.
“Here. Say ‘ah.’”
