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Chapter 07
“Let’s see it, then.”
Even gifts from prominent figures in politics and business had been refused—yet she wanted to show her acting? At the grandfather’s generous decision, the surroundings stirred with excitement.
“Is she really going to do it right here?”
“No way. Would Chairman Joo let himself be embarrassed?”
Whispers spread, but I didn’t pay them much attention.
Because they weren’t my audience.
Today, I had only one audience.
I stepped back five paces. After putting a suitable distance between my grandfather and myself, I spoke loudly on purpose, as if to make sure he heard.
“I’ll show you right here.”
Grandfather stared at me without moving, his expression stiff. He didn’t seem like he’d give any signal, so I figured I should start as soon as I was ready.
‘I’ve been ready for a long time.’
After memorizing the script I’d copied from Dongwoo Hall, I had run countless simulations. I never knew what might happen on the day of the dinner party.
Being driven out because of my uncle.
Being mercilessly rejected by my grandfather.
Among all the scenarios I’d imagined, performing in front of everyone was actually one of the easier ones.
‘If I hide myself, who’s going to see me?’
If I wasn’t going to hide anymore, then I had to step forward myself.
I smiled lightly and slowly gathered my emotions. Soon, the words of the script spread through my mind. They came together and formed a scene.
‘All set.’
It was time.
I slowly lifted my head.
It was time to become “the wife” in the script.
Joo Taebaek was not ignorant of acting.
He had loved his wife his entire life, and so he had loved her profession—acting—as well. Even after her death, his passion for it remained strong.
‘I’ll return it to you through acting.’
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t immediately rejected his granddaughter’s absurd proposal.
‘It’s all or nothing.’
The child who had always looked intimidated now wore a confident expression. For a moment, Joo Taebaek was swept away by that face.
‘Did she ever learn acting?’
After her mother died and she became independent from the Joo family, he still occasionally received reports about Joo Saei. But he had never once heard that she attended an acting academy.
Soon, his granddaughter, who had been gathering her emotions, lifted her head.
The moment he saw her expression, Joo Taebaek sucked in a sharp breath.
‘Overwhelming.’
It was the face of an actor fully immersed in her role.
Without a single line yet spoken, just by centering her emotions, she radiated a presence that seemed to dominate the entire space.
His heart raced. Trying not to reveal his trembling emotions to the guests, Joo Taebaek stiffened his face.
Before he could even blink, Saei spoke.
“Do you remember… when we went to see the sea in Gangneung?”
Just one line.
Only a single sentence.
Yet Joo Taebaek was the only one in the room who recognized where it came from.
Suppressing the surge of emotion, he clenched his fist tightly.
“You know, after Wol was born, when I was exhausted all the time. You grabbed the steering wheel at dawn and said you’d show me the sunrise.”
These lines were part of the script his wife had left behind.
Her final work—filled with memories of her husband.
“The kids are all grown now, but I still dream about that sea. Yeah… it wasn’t blue, it was more like dark blue. The waves crying… Back then, it was just so scary.”
From the lips of that young granddaughter flowed the voice of time itself.
With clear diction, she even precisely portrayed the weakened pronunciation and shortness of breath of old age.
Under everyone’s gaze, Saei pointed to the gravel laid in one corner of the garden. It was so quiet that the rustling of clothes could be heard.
Joo Taebaek followed her hand with his eyes.
Her slender fingers somehow resembled his wife’s wrinkled yet beautiful hands.
“We hated that gravel field and just came back, remember? I don’t even know why I hated it so much. Maybe because it was so bumpy… I don’t know.”
How had she gotten this script?
How had she known about it and prepared it?
‘Was that why she went to Dongwoo Hall…?’
He was stunned again and again.
But he didn’t show it. Rather than clumsily interrupting, he wanted to savor this fleeting moment of his wife as expressed by this child.
“Back then, everything around us was so bumpy. Your business, all uneven… Your knuckles injured from working, all bumpy too…”
Joo Taebaek slowly unclenched his hand.
As far as he knew, the first part of this script had been destroyed in a fire. Only a small part of the latter half remained.
And even that was unfinished.
His wife had passed away before completing it.
So this line should have been the end.
It was a performance beyond evaluation.
Preparing to applaud, he adjusted his posture.
“In our world, I was the only one who was always smooth and pretty… But now, I’ve become wrinkled and bumpy too.”
With a hollow voice, Saei delivered what was supposed to be the final line.
Just as Joo Taebaek began to rise—
“But…”
Saei spoke again.
The acting wasn’t over.
Startled, he froze and stared at her.
‘It ends here in the script.’
Carefully sitting back down, he watched her with shining eyes.
Her emotions slowly shifted.
Sorrow.
Longing.
Nostalgia.
And a smile that slipped out because she still loved “you” so dearly.
“Still… this old man says I’m pretty. Even with white hair, he says it’s nice. You’re really funny.”
“……”
“If you ask why I’m bringing this up… it’s just that when it’s time to go, you start missing things for no reason. And what I miss… it’s that sea.”
Lines that weren’t in the script.
She was completing the unfinished work.
Becoming her grandmother herself, she spoke to her husband.
“That dark blue thing isn’t scary anymore. And then I realize… Ah, I wasn’t avoiding the sea because I was afraid.”
Joo Taebaek felt as though he were having a private conversation with his wife.
“I just wanted to live brightly too. So I was jealous of that blue, and I ran away.”
“……”
“But not anymore. I lived brightly. Looking back, every day sprouted like a seedling. Every day was high tide. You always say you couldn’t have come this far without me, but it’s the other way around.”
Joo Taebaek clutched his chest.
It was so tight he could hardly breathe.
“Look. My wrinkles look like medals now, don’t they? So, you see… honey…”
Saei held out her palm toward him and paused, as if choosing her final words.
Her face looked exactly like his wife’s peaceful expression before she died.
Unable to bear it, Joo Taebaek reached out into the air.
He didn’t want this moment to end.
“I’m not leaving because I hate you. How could I? My whole life was bright because of you.”
The end was near.
Joo Taebaek squeezed his eyes shut.
His wife’s final moments overlapped with his granddaughter’s figure.
Only now did he understand her words.
‘The thing I treasure most… The thing I believed no longer existed.’
Her gift wasn’t just acting.
It was his wife’s unfinished legacy, returned to him.
“So… promise me. When I’m gone, don’t be too sad. Get back up quickly, okay? My chairman.”
With those words, Saei ended her performance.
A strange silence followed.
“…That’s all. Happy birthday, Chairman.”
There was no more hesitation.
After sweeping his gaze disdainfully over those who were holding back their applause, Joo Taebaek stood up and clapped with all his strength, his thick hands striking loudly.
The granddaughter who had never appeared at social gatherings had suddenly emerged and earned the chairman’s praise.
Soon, the guests stood up and cheered for Saei.
It was the moment a great actress was born.
I had reinterpreted Grandma’s script and added lines, as if scratching a lottery ticket.
I just wanted to give Grandpa something meaningful on his birthday.
As I passionately recited the lines I’d memorized to exhaustion, I felt myself pouring everything into this moment.
‘Did it… reach him?’
I had been confident, but I hadn’t expected applause like this.
Of course, my uncle and Joo Suyeon clapped reluctantly.
And Ryu Dokyung…
‘Why is he glaring again?’
What’s his problem now, staring like that without even clapping?
I quietly avoided his gaze and bowed to Grandpa.
When I returned to my seat, a text message arrived.
[Miss, the Chairman would like to see you privately after the party.]
It was from his personal secretary.
‘Yes!’
I had given him a moment to remember his wife.
And in return, I had earned the chance to meet him alone.
It was a very satisfying result.
