TNV 27

Chapter 27

Chaeyoon didn’t get a wink of sleep all night.

She tried to force her restless mind into sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, Muhyeon’s voice echoed in her ears.
“You must’ve worked hard pretending not to know all this time, Ms. Song Chaeyoon. Was it fun making someone who knew nothing look like a fool?”

Muhyeon hadn’t regained his memories. She was certain of that—there was absolutely no warmth in the way he looked at her.

Then how had he managed to piece all of that together?

How had he figured out that she had been pretending not to know him, and that she feared his mother?

Chaeyoon spent the entire night regretting not standing her ground and shamelessly asking him outright instead of running away from him.

At the very least, she would’ve known what was going on. She could’ve prepared some sort of excuse.

Waiting to meet Muhyeon again without knowing anything made her feel like her blood was drying up.

Lying on the bed, Chaeyoon eventually sat up and walked out into the living room.

Once morning came, Muhyeon would definitely knock on the door of the annex. He wasn’t the type to leave suspicious matters unresolved.

The reason he hadn’t stopped her last night was probably just to organize his thoughts. For all she knew, he might already have a list of questions prepared for her.

What should she do?

The urge to run away and the impulse to confess everything to him clashed more violently than ever.

But unfortunately, neither was an option she could choose.

First of all, even if she left Yangpyeong, she had nowhere to go. And thinking of the children who would come running to the study room calling her “teacher,” leaving was completely impossible.

And telling Muhyeon about their past didn’t seem like a good idea either. Even if she told a man who hadn’t recovered his memories about the past, it wouldn’t change the way he treated her.

Just imagining Muhyeon still looking at her with cold eyes and a chilly smile even after hearing everything made what little drowsiness she had left vanish entirely.

Let’s not say anything.

Gazing out the window as the pale light of dawn crept in, Chaeyoon made her decision. Just like she had until now, she would face Muhyeon as if he were a stranger.

No matter how much it hurt, if Muhyeon couldn’t recover his memories on his own, none of it meant anything.

Rather than seeing Muhyeon look at her coldly while knowing everything, it would be better to pretend they barely knew each other.

It was a conclusion she had reached after staying up all night, but in the end, she was back at square one. Feeling hollow, Chaeyoon went into the kitchen. Staring blankly out the window wasn’t helping—doing anything at all felt better.

After taking some headache medicine and lying down, he surprisingly fell asleep.

When Muhyeon opened his eyes again, it was six in the morning. He’d only slept for three hours, but his head felt clear. The painkillers seemed to have done their job.

After showering, before heading down to the annex, he recalled the thoughts he had整理ed before falling asleep the night before.

Three years ago, he had come down to the villa for rest and ended up in his second car accident. At that time, Song Chaeyoon had been staying in the annex. That meant she would know the circumstances before and after the accident well.

And judging by his mother’s reaction last evening, it was highly likely that Song Chaeyoon had some kind of relationship with him.

Seen that way, the strange sense of déjà vu he’d felt and the desire he’d experienced the moment he saw her made perfect sense.

Lastly, it was clear that something had happened between his mother and Song Chaeyoon after he lost his memories.

Depending on whether it was bribery or a threat, the nature of his relationship with Song Chaeyoon three years ago would be defined very differently.

And now, he intended to go to the annex and confirm the truth directly from the person involved.

It was a bit early, but it would be fine. Judging by how flustered she’d been at every word he said last night, Song Chaeyoon was surely already awake. Or she might have stayed up all night altogether.

He left the villa at an unhurried pace.

As he raised his hand to knock on the back door of the annex, his heart fluttered slightly. It was anticipation—the expectation that a piece of his memory, long shrouded in mystery, would finally be revealed.

Thud. Thud.

Less than a minute after he knocked, the door opened. Just as he’d expected, Song Chaeyoon looked paler than ever, as if she’d stayed up all night.

“What brings you here so early?”

Even in her voice, resignation outweighed wariness. Muhyeon smiled faintly and replied.

“Didn’t we have something left unsaid last night?”

“……It feels a bit early for a conversation.”

“I’m not the type who can stand not knowing.”

Chaeyoon let out a long sigh, clearly displeased. But since she couldn’t think of an excuse to send him away, she reluctantly opened the door wider.

“Come in.”

The first thing that greeted Muhyeon as he stepped inside the annex was a savory smell.

It wasn’t overpowering, but it somehow stimulated his appetite, and for the first time, he felt hungry so early in the morning.

“I made some scorched rice soup. Want some?”

Chaeyoon asked without even turning around, already in the kitchen, standing in front of the sink.

Standing at the entrance to the kitchen that connected to the living room, Muhyeon belatedly realized just how natural her behavior was.

Come to think of it, Song Chaeyoon had been like that from the beginning.

For someone dealing with a stranger, her tone and actions toward him had been oddly natural. She consciously kept her distance, yet showed none of the wariness one would normally have toward an unfamiliar person.

Thinking that way, he recalled the time not long ago when she’d made kimchi pancakes for dinner.

“Do you want some kimchi pancakes? You like those, don’t—”

Wasn’t that the way someone spoke when they already knew he liked kimchi pancakes?

The reason she’d trailed off must have been because she realized she’d misspoken and panicked.

Watching her back as he sank into thought, Muhyeon let out a dry laugh. Going over everything piece by piece, he felt like the fool—for having noticed nothing all this time.

“Have I eaten scorched rice soup here before? At this hour?”

“No.”

“Then why do I find it hard to believe what you say, Ms. Song Chaeyoon?”

At that, Chaeyoon sighed and turned around, having been watching the pot.

“Director Seo Muhyeon seems to be the suspicious type.”

“From my position, isn’t that only natural?”

This time, instead of an answer, only another sigh followed. Ignoring it, Muhyeon asked again.

“When did we first meet?”

“Three years ago, early April. Director Seo came down to the villa with his leg in a cast.”

Unexpectedly, she answered without resistance. It seemed she’d realized there was no point in hiding it any longer.

“Were Song Chaeyoon and I close?”

“No.”

She denied it without a moment’s hesitation. And she met his gaze with such composure that he almost wondered if the trembling look she’d given him last night had all been his imagination.

“Then how does my mother know you?”

“Because we’ve met. She came down to the villa because she was worried about her son. I ran into the director while helping Grandma.”

“If that were all, my mother wouldn’t have any reason to be wary of you. She may be particular, but she’s a rational woman.”

As he spoke, Muhyeon began to walk forward slowly.

One step at a time.

Watching him approach with tense eyes, Chaeyoon answered in a voice that sounded like an excuse—yet tinged with self-mockery.

“She probably didn’t like the idea that there was a woman around her son who didn’t suit him.”

“I don’t know. I think differently.”

As Muhyeon drew closer, Chaeyoon’s expression stiffened.

Thinking that this was far better than the calm face she’d worn while answering his questions, he stopped directly in front of her.