TDR 02

2.

As expected, the manager of Le Gardin guided Seoyeong to the rose greenhouse. The moment the manager opened the greenhouse door, the thick scent of roses rushed forward as if to embrace Seoyeong.

The theme for this spring must be pink; everywhere, from baby pink to a bright pink that seemed to pierce the eyes, all kinds of pink ran rampant.

She had preferred the black and red roses from five years ago, but this wasn’t bad either. It suited the current mood, too.

“It’s beautiful. As expected, Youngjin’s flower team is the best.”

Receiving praise from Seoyeong, known for her high standards, the manager’s shoulders lifted with pride.

The manager, who had taken Seoyeong’s coat, smiled warmly and pulled out her chair for her.

“Thank you.”

Having attended to her for several years now, this lady never forgot to express gratitude, even for the smallest things. The manager beamed once more.

Seoyeong, momentarily dazed by the rose scent, was about to sit down when she hesitated, stopping short.

A cake?

In the center of the round marble table sat a cake. A cake laden with white, sweet cream—the kind Seoyeong didn’t particularly enjoy.

“Happy birthday to you.”

Noticing where her gaze had landed, the manager added. Seoyeong, who had been about to sit, slowly straightened back up. The flustered manager took a step back.

Seoyeong’s gaze shifted to the card placed before the cake, inscribed with Gothic gold lettering. Her eyes moved, reading the card.

—Warmly celebrating your beloved twenty-third birthday.

The manager, standing behind Seoyeong, also scanned the card.

Instantly, a look of dismay crossed the manager’s face.

How could he have forgotten?

The S-Company CEO’s wife’s birthday was in winter.

Sending a non-sweet fruit cake, tailored to her taste, to the S-Company main house every December was a task he had been doing for years.

To forget such an important fact.

The reservation and order had come from the S-Company President’s Secretarial Office. And the S-Company CEO’s wife had appeared at the restaurant. Leading her to the reserved seat was only natural.

But then, it turned out not to be natural at all.

Then who was the owner of this reservation?

Cold sweat trickled down the manager’s back.

Having stood still for a while, Seoyoung picked up the card.

It wasn’t her birthday, and twenty-three was even less her age. In Seoyoung’s mind, the day, which had felt somehow strange and awkward from the start, began to replay in slow motion, very slowly.

And then it happened.

The door to the dessert room opened and someone entered. Seo-young slowly lifted her head.

It was Han Seo-ha.

In the center of the glass greenhouse, where the brightly colored roses were so splendid they were dazzling, his mere entrance made the roses lose their luster.

His flawlessly fair skin, sharp jawline, and the jet-black hair neatly combed back over his straight forehead seemed almost painted.

His pupils, so dark they seemed to hold a hint of blue, held an unreadable light within his deep-set eyes.

Those eyes, always so indifferent they were frozen cold.

Seoyeong’s gaze, her lips tightly pressed together to hide their trembling, met Han Seo-ha’s.

What appeared on Han Seo-ha’s face at that moment was fluster, and then, moments later, anger.

“Oppa! It’s even prettier than I imagined. How did you think to reserve a place like this? This is really the first time I’ve had a birthday like this…”

Before the person appeared, her voice flew in from behind Han Seo-ha.

A clear voice, like the chirping of a bird.

And then the woman emerged.

A woman with peach-blushed cheeks, chattering brightly with a delicate smile.

A sound, half sigh, half laugh, escaped Seoyoung’s lips.

Ah…

So that’s it.

Seoyoung, who had been frozen for a moment, smiled again, as she always did. It was a smile as beautiful as a painting, but one where her eyes held no trace of laughter.

What followed was no different from Seoyoung’s expectations.

The woman who followed him in, Kang Naeun, stopped dead in her tracks as if she had seen something scandalous. She didn’t forget to call out to Seoyoung in a frail voice, “sister?”

And as always, tears welled up in her large eyes, threatening to overflow.

The sound of Han Seo-ha grinding his teeth was audible even to Seoyoung’s ears.

The hotel manager’s face was now almost ashen. The hotel employee who had followed, guiding Han Seo-ha to the greenhouse, was also flustered, forgetting even that he needed to take their coats.

“Manager, could you excuse us for a moment?”

Ultimately, it was Seo-young who had to manage the situation again.

After sending the staff out first, Seo-young clenched her jaw. She bit down on her trembling lips once more. Her lipstick would probably smudge, but that wasn’t important.

Acting as if nothing was wrong, Seo-young painted on a smile and walked calmly toward Han Seo-ha.

With every step she took in the rose-filled greenhouse, the heavy scent from her hands, her shoulders, her face burst forth like colliding water droplets.

Each time, the rose fragrance erupted, almost nauseatingly. Feeling something rise in her stomach despite not having eaten, Seo-young swallowed dryly.

A deep breath without opening her mouth. Then, count down slowly from five.

Following her usual habit to calm her nerves, Seo-young stopped in front of Han Seo-ha. Because of her flat shoes, she had to look up to meet his eyes.

This is why I dislike low heels.

“There must have been a mistake in the secretarial office.”

“A mistake?”

A chill seeped into Han Seo-ha’s voice.

Despite calming herself, a small shiver ran through her, and Seoyoung pressed her lips tightly together again. Her lips, which had been beautifully radiant red, were now not just white, but pale blue.

“This morning at the secretarial office…”

“Those shoes…”

It was Kang Naeun who interrupted Seoyoung. Naeun’s trembling finger pointed at Seoyoung’s shoes. Following her finger, Han Seo-ha’s gaze also went to Seoyoung’s shoes. Seoyoung looked down at her own shoes as well.

Unsuitable, toy-like red shoes.

She hadn’t realized it, feeling as if she had been walking on clouds all along. The moment Han Seo-ha and Kang Naeun’s eyes landed on her shoes, a sharp pain shot up from her heels. It was because she had forced her feet into ill-fitting shoes.

If they get bloody, donation might be difficult anyway.

As she briefly glanced at her own heel with this absurd thought, her brow furrowed once more.

“What on earth are you…”

Why did both Naeun and Seo-ha keep trailing off mid-sentence?

Seoyoung quickly lifted her head, looking alternately at Naeun and Seo-ha.

If Naeun asked why she was wearing her shoes, she planned to say she had brought them from the department store and thought they were hers. If Seo-ha asked if she came here knowing he was coming with Naeun, she planned to say no.

Just the truth, as it was.

But no one asked Seo-young that.

“A mistake from the secretarial office, you said just now?”

Instead, Seo-ha asked something else.

Seoyoung, who had been about to say something, pressed her lips tightly together again. And for the first time, she genuinely thought Han Seo-ha was being foolish.

‘What, did you think I came here to watch the birthday party of your not-even-proper sister?’

Or did he think she would grab Naeun by the hair like a wronged wife catching a mistress?

Swallowing the words that would have knocked him over if he heard them, Seoyoung shifted her gaze to Naeun.

“Miss Naeun, I’m sorry. There must have been a misunderstanding. I’ll order the same shoes for you. You wouldn’t want shoes someone else has worn, right?”

As if perfectly timed to Seoyoung’s words, Naeun’s tears began to fall, drop by drop. Pretending not to see the tears, Seoyoung added,

“I don’t have a hobby of giving away my used shoes to others either. If they’re unwearable, I’d just throw them away.”

Saying ‘throw them away,’ Seoyoung looked back at Han Seo-ha. His face crumpled even more.

A flicker of satisfaction. And then a sharp pang in her heart.

But Seo-young smiled again.

“Well, it seems I’m an uninvited guest, so I won’t disturb you. Miss Naeun, happy birthday.”

She even gave a small wave towards Naeun, who was crying pitifully.

Naeun, crying piteously; Han Seo-ha, radiating fury with his whole body; and Seoyoung, alone and seemingly unaffected by it all—the three were entangled bizarrely in the same space.

Taking one last look around at this drama-like scene, Seoyoung let out a laugh that was more like a sigh and was about to take a step.

Perhaps it’s that wounds, once made known, hurt more, even though they felt fine when unknown. Seoyoung’s step faltered quite significantly.

The over sized shoes clattered on her feet, and unable to show the disgrace of being thrown off balance, Seoyoung floundered for a moment, putting strength into her feet to regain her equilibrium.

Seeing this, Han Seo-ha was surprised and reached out his hand. In his face, which had been scowling all along, was clearly worry.

And at the same time, Naeun’s frail shoulders swayed.

Naeun, like a small bird, nestled into Han Seo-ha’s arm, which had been reaching out for Seo-young. Her pitiful tears scattered in dots onto the sleeve of his coat.