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Chapter 4
As Seoyoung picked up her chopsticks, Su-ae spoke from across the table.
“Eat slowly, or you’ll get indigestion.”
They were ordinary words spoken in a nonchalant tone—just the careless remark of a mother at the dinner table. Yet at those words alone, Seoyoung’s hand paused for a brief moment.
“Yes, I will.”
When Seoyoung was a young girl, she used to watch her ‘family’ eat from beyond her narrow room, hoping to absorb at least a bit of warmth that way.
The words Su-ae had just spoken were the same ones she used to say to young Jooyoung all the time—telling her not to eat in a rush, not to stuff too much in her mouth.
Whenever young Jooyoung so much as lifted her spoon, Su-ae never took her eyes off her.
“Eat slowly, dear. Don’t scowl your pretty face.”
Such words had never been offered to Seoyoung.
They had always wanted her to eat quietly and inconspicuously. They always wanted her to remain separated. The place for her to exist was always on the periphery, and she had to be cautious in both her words and actions.
Swallowing her food, Seoyoung thought to herself:
‘If it were Unnie, the tone would have been warmer.’
Though they were the exact same words, the temperature was different. What was embedded in the words directed at Jooyoung was affection, whereas what lingered in the words directed at Seoyoung was a formal consideration—and even that was laced with the desire and pressure for her to flawlessly play Jooyoung’s role.
‘I am a guest at this dining table, too.’
Until just a moment ago, she had been ‘Han Jooyoung.’ In front of Dojin, she had been Jooyoung attending a blind date with confidence, serving as the face that replaced her sister’s position.
Even if it had been slightly awkward, she had been ‘Han Jooyoung.’
However, upon returning home now, she became ‘Han Seoyoung’ once again.
An existence with neither a name nor a right to be here—a ghost-like person called upon only when needed. Strength drained from the hand holding the chopsticks.
She stared at the dining table in silence for a long time.
She tore off a piece of mackerel flesh and put it in her mouth, but she couldn’t taste a thing. The texture was tough and her mouth felt dry.
She thought her body and heart already knew that the most bountiful meal in the world held no meaning for her…
Even though she knew this meal was strictly meant for Jooyoung…
Tears threatened to fall.
After hurriedly finishing her meal, Seoyoung stood up without saying a word. Neither Su-ae nor Hyungjin stopped her. As if accustomed to it, they simply cleared the dishes stacked on the table in silence.
“I’ll head up first.”
Seoyoung caught her breath as she climbed the stairs. She felt her body sinking heavily. Though she hadn’t heard a single harsh word, strangely, all her energy drained away.
‘Why am I feeling so suffocated…?’
Closing the bedroom door, she sat slowly on the edge of the bed. Sunlight streaming through the curtains spread out long across the silk duvet. A single tear that had welled up finally fell.
‘Why am I crying over this… why is it so heartbreaking…?’
After pouring out a wave of tears, Seoyoung’s mind turned cold.
‘Should I tell them even now that I can’t do it?’
However, her parents would never let her step down as Jooyoung’s substitute out of consideration for her. If that was the case, she had to survive in her own way.
She couldn’t repeat today’s mistake in front of Dojin. She needed something other than the diary Jooyoung had left on her desk to understand who her sister was. Firming her resolve, Seoyoung walked over to the desk.
She needed to open the drawer she hadn’t had time to open earlier. She prayed that inside, there would be a clue to understanding Jooyoung’s thoughts.
“Please… let there be something.”
Seoyoung carefully pulled the handle. Inside the drawer were neatly organized notebooks, a few slips of memo paper, and another diary.
“What is this?”
Was it a twin’s intuition? Seoyoung had a premonition that this diary contained her sister’s honest feelings—even more genuine than the words Jooyoung used to say to her face.
Seoyoung took out the diary and opened it on the desk.
On the very first page, a short sentence was written alongside a date:
[This marriage is the final puzzle piece for me.]
Seoyoung held her breath. As she flipped through the pages, Jooyoung’s clear handwriting continued non-stop:
[I must enter Taesan Group no matter what.]
[If my child becomes the heir to this group, my life will be a successful one.]
The handwriting was neat, but sharp edge resonated within it.
Jooyoung regarded marriage to Baek Dojin not as simple love, but as a goal—or rather, a means of survival. The further Seoyoung turned the pages, the colder her fingertips became.
[Love is a luxury. I look toward something higher.]
In that sentence, Seoyoung felt a clear divide between her sister and herself. She had never made such grand plans in her life. Love, marriage, and family—a life where she could only watch those things from afar was all that had ever been permitted to her.
“So this was the life Unnie wanted.”
Seoyoung folded her hands on her lap.
Her fingertips were trembling slightly.
‘I am merely someone filling a vacant spot…’
Yet she hadn’t realized that vacant spot would prove to be this heavy. Still, she had to fill it. If she failed to do so, she would truly be abandoned. Even while resenting her parents, she wanted to be loved. Just once, she wanted to be loved properly.
The moment her hand stopped organizing the drawer, a knock sounded at the door. Seoyoung instinctively straightened her posture and drew a breath.
“May I come in?”
The door opened slightly and Su-ae entered, holding a plate of fruit. A touch of careful hands could be felt from the neatly sliced apples and grapes.
“You like fruit, don’t you, Jooyoung?”
Pausing mid-sentence, a flash of brief fluster crossed Su-ae’s face. Soon after, a familiar smile returned.
“Ah, right. You’re… Seoyoung.”
Seoyoung moved her lips slightly, but no words came out. Su-ae brushed past her silence without giving it much thought and placed the plate of fruit on the nightstand beside the bed.
“By the way, do you mind if I call you Jooyoung for the time being? Just in case I make a mistake outside.”
Her tone was cautious, but a firm resolve resided within it.
“It would be troublesome if someone outside overheard us. You understand, don’t you?”
Seoyoung nodded, as if she understood. Over and over, Seoyoung endlessly repeated to herself that this was right.
‘Seoyoung.’
A name that had merely come out by mistake.
Her name, called only to distinguish her from her sister after her sister had lost consciousness.
Even so, Seoyoung felt happy that her name was uttered from her parent’s mouth. She was grateful to the point of desperation. The name ‘Seoyoung’ had hardly ever been called in this house. She had lived her whole life treated as ‘hey,’ ‘that girl,’ or simply as if she were non-existent.
Yet right now, her mother’s voice conveyed to her through the name ‘Jooyoung’ held an unfamiliar warmth—a warmth that would never be contained in the name ‘Seoyoung.’
So, as long as she could feel that warmth, she was fine with it being this way. She was fine with being ‘Jooyoung’—enough to forget even the endless resentment she had felt toward her parents.
She managed a cautious smile.
“Yes. Please call me that.”
Seoyoung nodded as if relieved by that smile and left the room. That warm gaze had never once been directed at her before. Yet now, that gaze was fixed upon her.
The moment the door closed, silence settled over the room once again. Seoyoung looked at the plate of fruit. She picked one up and placed it in her mouth. A sweet flavor slowly spread.
‘Right now, I am Jooyoung.’
The feeling of having become a ‘needed person’ to someone for the first time completely captured her. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t the real her.
The simple fact that a name gently called from her mother’s mouth was now granted to her…
That alone was enough.
