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Chapter 43
Chirp, chirp.
The sound of sparrows that weren’t really there seemed to echo faintly in the bright morning outside the window.
Her last memory had been of night, yet after closing her eyes and opening them again, morning had already come.
“Ah.”
She had slept—soundly, deeply, refreshingly.
The weariness of the previous day had caught up with her, turning into the heaviness of her body.
After a brief chat with Mrs. Kim, who had come in to fetch some clothes, she had only intended to rest for a moment. But she hadn’t woken once, and night had simply vanished.
“Mmgh.”
Still half-dazed, she stretched with a groggy yawn, trying to shake off the fogginess as her hand reached up, fumbling.
It had become routine by now—searching for her glasses.
“…Huh?”
But when she put them on and opened her eyes, the world wasn’t sharp. It was dark.
Only then did she realize she was wearing sunglasses.
Startled, she yanked them off and spotted her own reflection in the vanity mirror across from the bed.
“…Wow.”
Just a day.
Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed, yet her bare eyes could now clearly take in the world without glasses.
Aside from the glare of sunlight pouring in through the wide windows, there was no pain, no discomfort.
She hurriedly got out of bed and stepped right up to the vanity.
“…”
And then she fell silent as she looked at the mirror.
So this is my face.
Strange.
It wasn’t her first time looking at her reflection without glasses, but it felt oddly new, fascinating even.
Her words to Juho—that she wanted to see the world with new eyes—hadn’t been just words. With a small, delighted smile, she turned away.
“Ahh!”
But the sunlight flooding in through the huge window was harsher than expected.
She quickly slipped the sunglasses back on and sighed.
“Nothing in life is ever easy.”
Clicking her tongue at the sudden reminder of life’s bitterness, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and stepped out of the room.
Grrrr.
Her empty stomach, neglected since she’d even skipped dinner, cried out in protest.
In the end, it’s all about eating and living anyway.
Feeling a little embarrassed at a schedule hardly better than a newborn’s, she headed into the living room, which was predictably quiet.
It was nearly noon, and of course Yoon-jae wasn’t home—weekday or weekend, he was always busy.
Thinking she’d just grab some cereal, she made for the kitchen but ran into Mrs. Kim coming out of the laundry room, holding a basket of freshly dried clothes.
“You’re up?”
At her greeting, she sheepishly lowered the hand rubbing her stomach.
“I slept a bit too much, didn’t I.”
“Oh, nonsense. Sleep is the best medicine. Ah, but you should eat. Just wait, I’ll prepare something quickly.”
“No, no, please finish what you were doing. I’ll just eat something simple.”
But as she opened the cupboard and pulled out cereal, Mrs. Kim hurried over, setting the basket down.
“Oh, you mustn’t do that. You need to eat properly. If the executive director finds out, he’ll scold me.”
Eyes widening, she let out a startled sound as Mrs. Kim took the cereal away and gently pushed her toward the table.
“Wh-what?”
“I promised I’d make sure you eat well. Now go wash up. And today especially—he told me to make sure you rest and do nothing else.”
“…He said that?”
Realizing Mrs. Kim’s concern came directly from Yoon-jae, she asked again.
Nodding as she guided her to sit, Mrs. Kim said warmly, “Yes. He was very insistent. You have no idea how worried he was.”
Worried.
Through Mrs. Kim’s smile, she felt Yoon-jae’s unspoken heart.
Wait, hold on.
The sudden tug in her chest startled her so much she waved her hands, like a girl denying she had a crush.
“Ah, he’s not that thoughtful. If he really were, we wouldn’t bicker like yesterday. He just says things.”
She flustered about, as if upset over nothing.
But the faint blush on her cheeks was impossible to hide, and Mrs. Kim smiled warmly at the sight. Embarrassed, she rubbed her face.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”
This time, too, Mrs. Kim’s expression betrayed her.
But somehow, she didn’t feel like hiding.
“Because it looks nice.”
Her voice carried warmth, full of a sincerity she had never spoken aloud to Yoon-jae.
Surprised, she pointed to her own face.
“…This?”
She had always thought her face looked ugly when twisted up, never imagining someone would call it nice.
But Mrs. Kim wasn’t one for empty flattery.
Keeping her gentle smile, she added, “At first I thought you two were just unusual. But now… the two of you look very warm together.”
The unexpected words made her uneasy, but Mrs. Kim drove it in further.
Warm.
A word that had never lingered in her life—perhaps not even in his.
“Do we really look that way?”
“Of course. I see you every day. And the one who’s changed the most is the director.”
“…”
“In a good way, of course.”
That was something only Mrs. Kim—who had been close to his private life for so long—could say.
Her words, unexaggerated, seeped into her chest like a gentle warmth.
He’s changed.
Warmly.
Her life had always been filled with extraordinary circumstances. Now, she was living normally, like everyone else.
And he has changed, too.
Yoon-jae’s occasional smile floated before her eyes, and her heart skipped before she even realized it.
Thump, thump.
Her heartbeat, joyful for no reason at all, brought back the memory of that unforgettable touch.
Her fingers brushed her lips, then stilled at the ring on her fourth finger.
[Wear it.]
The casual voice rang in her ears as if spoken just now.
Gulp.
Swallowing dryly, she clutched at her pounding chest.
“By the way,” Mrs. Kim said, “I think the director will be busy for a while. He left this morning before I arrived. This time of year always seems to be full of events for him.”
Still gazing at the ring, she spoke absently.
“Those at the top are always busy. They have to parade their wealth around, attend events and gatherings whenever the weather’s good. It’s natural to live busily if you want to keep your place.”
“…Excuse me?”
Oops.
Lost in thought about the ring, she had spoken without filtering.
She quickly lowered her hand and forced a smile.
“I mean, managers, leaders, people like that. Anyway, no need to worry—it’s just their way of life.”
She had enough experience to bluff naturally, and Mrs. Kim kindly went along.
“Every year around this time, he loses so much weight. If not for his strong frame, he’d look worryingly thin.”
Her gesture of hollowing her cheeks didn’t look exaggerated.
Considering how busy he usually was, the fact that people still commented meant it must be serious.
“Is he that busy?”
“As far as I know, yes. Skipping meals, losing sleep… sometimes he doesn’t even come home for days. You must feel lonely.”
At Mrs. Kim’s slightly downcast tone, she patted her arm.
“Oh, don’t be so sad. It’s not like he’s gone far. He does come home early when he can.”
“What? Ah, I wasn’t talking about me. I meant you, ma’am.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Well, you’re newlyweds.”
The sudden newlywed attack made her eyes waver.
Then her brows knit together.
“…Am I supposed to feel lonely?”
“Pardon? Don’t you?”
“Well…”
After a pause, she spoke honestly.
“I don’t really know what ‘feeling lonely’ means.”
For her, life had always been about giving up and enduring before such emotions even surfaced.
If you never expected or hoped for anything, you never felt those vague, awkward feelings.
That was how she had survived.
“What is that supposed to feel like?”
Her voice sounded lonely even behind sunglasses. Mrs. Kim reached out and clasped her hand firmly.
Though always cheerful, there was sometimes a dissonance in her—that cynicism.
It had been too short a relationship to know everything, but the emptiness was plain.
Gently soothing not only what was visible but also the unseen wounds, Mrs. Kim said:
“It’s just… wanting to be with them. Wanting to talk with them. To eat together. Thinking of them for no reason.”
“….”
“That’s all it is.”
Advice from an elder she had never received before.
And at that, her thoughts drifted to Yoon-jae.
Something warm, soft, yet vivid swelled in her chest.
Looking at the ring again, she wondered: What is this? Do I really not know?
Gleam.
Clasping her hands together as if to hold that wavering warmth, she lifted her head.
“Mrs. Kim, I—”
She had wanted to ask, like a student begging for just a hint on a test question.
Ding-dong.
But as if it wasn’t yet the time, the warmth slipped away.
The sudden sound of the doorbell made them exchange glances.
“At this hour…?”
It couldn’t be a package or mail. Mrs. Kim hurried to the intercom.
Beep.
She pressed the button, and after a glance at the screen, she called out urgently.
“Oh my goodness! Ma’am, ma’am!”
Rising alongside Mrs. Kim, she approached the intercom—and saw a very familiar face.
“…Huh?”
Taken aback by the unexpected visit, she leaned closer.
And as if the person on the screen knew she was being watched, a sharp voice barked out:
—“If you’ve seen my face, why aren’t you opening the door?”
The tone, the expression—already bristling with anger. She let out a wry laugh, pointing at the intercom.
“Wow, Mrs. Kim, look at this blood relative of mine.”
As if it were funny, she pressed the unlock button with the same hand and muttered,
“Only half the blood, but what a temper.”
“…”
“Just like the sibling.”
