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Chapter 52
Ae-jeong had a debt.
She had received such a large sum that it had to be paid in two installments, and she had repaid it through the bank.
It must have been difficult. Even just looking at the piles of overdue notices and the things written in her diary, one could tell how hard she had struggled to live.
Just that alone made it clear that the reason for this marriage was entirely money.
“……”
Her heart pounded.
Her shoulders rose and fell with the persistent beat.
We faced the unavoidable reality, staring at the mirror.
Her face reflected every emotion without any trace of estrangement.
“I like you.”
Hayun-jae.
This feeling could only be explained that way; it was undeniably clear.
Seeing him made her heart flutter and tremble. Even when he wasn’t near, she thought of him, and being together made her want to come closer.
When she thought of what she “wanted,” among all the beautiful things in the world, only Hayun-jae came to mind.
So she kissed him.
Hotly, sweetly, and tenderly.
“……I like you.”
That much, she had grown to like him.
She pressed her hand harder against the left side of her chest. The innocent flesh beneath caused a sharp sting, but she didn’t stop; she gripped tighter.
Her heartbeat responded to her emotions.
A clear physical reaction.
Slowly pulling her hand away from her chest, she asked her reflection in the mirror,
“……Is it the same?”
This love.
Just like her, Ae-jeong had felt this tender and earnest heart.
Though their feelings hadn’t started at the same time, the hearts that reached out to the same man, Hayun-jae, seemed to overlap. Her heart ached with confusion.
It wasn’t just her body—it was also guilt for having taken Ae-jeong’s last remaining wish.
‘I took it all.’
She hadn’t done it intentionally, but in the end, it belonged to her.
For a moment, she even wondered if what she felt might not be truly hers—perhaps it was an illusion created by the memories this body held.
‘No.’
But the warmth and uniqueness that spread when she thought of Yun-jae left no room for doubt: this feeling was unquestionably hers.
The vivid heartbeat itself was proof.
Every clear tremor, every moment she had held him close and worried—all of it was hers. There was nothing confusing about it. She wasn’t foolish enough to mistake the obvious.
Yet, the remaining debt in her heart was not erased. She clenched her teeth in guilt.
“……Joo Ae-jeong.”
Perhaps these were things she had had from the very beginning.
Muttering empty words to herself, she shuffled backward from the mirror.
She lost her sense of direction and stopped abruptly at the desk, looking down at it, the path of escape blocked.
“…….”
At the end of her quiet gaze, the bottom drawer of the desk came into view. We bent down faster than expected and opened the drawer.
We took out a folded piece of paper along with Ae-jeong’s diary and unfolded it.
A hollow laugh escaped her.
“……Ha.”
<I do not lie.>
Written clearly in Yun-jae’s handwriting, the short phrase sank even deeper into her already confused mind.
It wasn’t hideously tearful or painfully agonizing.
She was just stunned.
The reality was so obvious that it felt almost hollow.
Clutching the paper tightly, she muttered,
“It was wrong from the start.”
What had she been thinking?
What ending had she been expecting?
This feeling was hers, with no doubt or confusion, yet the most crucial fact had been overlooked.
‘A lie.’
Ultimately, Yun-jae wasn’t seeing “me”; he was seeing “Joo Ae-jeong,” the one being loved—a fact so obvious she had forgotten it.
Unless Yun-jae knew all the facts and accepted them, this love could never be fulfilled.
It was naturally an absurd thought. Who could understand or accept such a situation? Even she sometimes felt confused by it.
“Ha, haha.”
Another hollow laugh slipped out. We sat alone in the dark room, shoulders shaking silently. Still, no tears came. Perhaps that was a small relief.
Thump, thump.
Even in this state, the heart that wouldn’t stop pounding felt almost insulting.
The lingering sensation on her lips, the warmth of her arms hugging herself—none of it disappeared.
Standing alone in complete darkness, without sunlight or lights.
She didn’t know since when she had been there, or how she had come to be there.
Yet, we were there.
Splash.
Ripples spread from her motionless toes. She stared numbly at the waves lapping at her ankles.
The water was neither cold nor warm, nor did it even feel present.
It simply rippled.
Slowly, we bent our knees and touched the water.
Even without light, her reflection could strangely be seen on the surface.
Not a mirror, yet her face reflected with uncanny clarity. Silently observing, we parted our dry lips.
“It’s not my fault.”
The voice rippled over the water, though she didn’t know to whom it was addressed.
“I don’t know where it started. I don’t know how it ended up like this.”
Silence filled everything.
No one existed.
In this void, with no one to answer, she vented emotions she had never expressed anywhere.
“Why did it turn out this way?”
“I did nothing wrong.”
“I just lived and endured.”
“Why us?”
Her hands, submerged in water, clenched tightly as she poured out thoughts she hadn’t even realized she held, her reflection distorted on the rippling surface.
“……!”
The distorted reflection in the ripples became expressionless.
Cold lips answered her.
“Then give it back.”
At that moment, a white hand covered us.
Her head ached.
She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep. When she lifted her curled body, it was already late morning.
Whether she had slept or collapsed from exhaustion, her body was heavy and strained.
And separate from her complicated thoughts, her body was fatigued; though she hadn’t dreamed, she suffered from a headache and severe thirst.
“……Ugh.”
Even after washing her dizzy head, clarity did not return.
Her condition was unusually low, but knowing the reason, she had no will to lift her spirits.
She roughly tied her damp hair and stepped out of the room.
Her throat was parched above everything else.
Wrapping her throbbing head as if recovering from a hangover, she entered the kitchen—and immediately met the person she least wanted to see.
“…….”
It had been less than ten hours since last night. Nothing had been resolved. Her mind, just as unsettled, was no different.
As she took a step forward, Yun-jae, blocking her path with his gaze, spoke first.
“I thought you’d gone out.”
“I’ll drink coffee and then—”
As if nothing had happened, Yun-jae seemed completely normal. She relaxed her tense toes and moved.
Her throat still dry.
Silently, she took a cup and stood by the water purifier, intending to drink very cold water first.
“Did you think—”
Before she could place the cup on the purifier, he spoke.
Feeling her own hesitation in every motion, she poured the water.
“Was there a time limit?”
“Because I was impatient.”
“……”
“Because I was desperate.”
His unexpected answer made her turn her head. Yun-jae was already watching her.
“I don’t have time.”
His expression, gestures, and voice were no different from usual.
“Because of you.”
It felt different. She didn’t know if it was because she wanted it to feel different or because it truly was. More than that, she felt embarrassed by how even her fine hairs reacted.
After all, however Yun-jae looked at her, his gaze wasn’t directed at her.
She wetted her dry throat and spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Thanks to the water, her voice didn’t break.
After finishing, she stood back from the purifier and looked at him.
We’re good actors.
Hiding our true feelings is nothing.
“I thought it might be misunderstood, so it’s better to say it properly. I’ll make it clear.”
“……”
“It was a mistake.”
Even under Yun-jae’s unmoving gaze, she spoke calmly.
“I think I got carried away by the atmosphere. I might have drunk champagne without realizing it.”
She deliberately lightened her tone.
“The atmosphere was like that. Calm, romantic, and somehow it just flowed. Still, I’m glad it was you, Hayun-jae. If it were someone else, it would’ve been a disaster. It would’ve been an obvious affair. People would’ve gone even crazier.”
Acting as if last night’s worries didn’t exist, she appeared completely herself again.
After rinsing and returning the cup to its place, she spoke:
“Forget it.”
“……”
“It’s nothing.”
Even the faint smile was perfect.
Not only was she saying it to Yun-jae, but also to herself.
‘This is right.’
If nothing can be concluded, make it as if nothing happened.
We always solved difficult and embarrassing situations this way.
If this could be called a solution.
With no gaps, even taking away the leisure Yun-jae claimed he had, she crossed her arms and shrugged proudly.
Thunk.
Yun-jae, who had been silently listening, stood and approached the sink, retrieving the cup she had just rinsed and placed aside.
Drip, drip.
Though washed, water droplets still fell. Yun-jae wiped them with a cloth and handed it to her.
“If you need time, take it. If you’re confused, that’s fine too. But don’t run away.”
“……”
“Do it your way.”
He seemed to be saying: don’t put on a clumsy act.
Her mask, never seen by anyone, had been removed. It felt like a stab to her core, even leaving her slightly breathless.
Always, the last method we choose is seen through.
Yet, she knew how absurd the phrase “your way” was in this situation.
In this world, the person least suited for those words was herself.
“……My way.”
Repeating his words quietly, she smirked.
Then she briefly lifted her bowed head and said,
“Let’s go to work. I need to sleep a bit more.”
She left the kitchen, leaving the cup behind.
After turning the corner and disappearing, he heard the click of a door and took out his phone.
“Yes, Executive Director. This is Hong Kyung-woo.”
After a few rings, he retrieved the folded paper from his pocket.
“I need to confirm something. Not a problem, though.”
It was the copy of the auction confirmation received the previous day.
Staring at it quietly, he spoke softly:
“I just want to be certain.”
