Chapter 8
Director’s Office, Saegwang Art Museum
Saegwang Art Museum, one of the top three private art museums in Asia.
Seo Jeong-yeon, the director here, is the wife of Chairman Jung Ji-do of Daewoong Group, Jaehyun’s mother, and currently Yeonha’s guardian.
<I’d like to see you at Saegwang this afternoon.>
Jeong-yeon’s message asking to meet at the museum was unexpected.
I had visited to see her exhibitions during my marriage, but never once had I come here for something personal.
In the Daewoong family, occasions like this were usually handled in the VIP lounge of the Daewoong Hotel.
It was a sudden request from my mother-in-law, but I wanted to speak to her in person at least once.
About my position.
And for Yeonha.
The director’s office was filled with Jeong-yeon’s taste.
The vintage ornaments and oriental-style furniture resembled those in the Daewoong household.
Because of that, wherever Jeong-yeon was, it felt as if a European royal residence had been transplanted there.
“You must have had a hard time coming all this way.”
Jeong-yeon said as she poured the deeply brewed pu-erh tea from the gaiwan into a teacup.
Without bowing her head, she lifted the cup and inhaled its aroma.
The five-carat ring from a high jewelry brand, which she had worn on her fourth finger for thirty years, sparkled.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
The day I fought with Jaehyun and left the house, I hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to her.
People said that Jeong-yeon’s treatment of me as a daughter-in-law had contributed to the reason for my divorce from Jaehyun, but that wasn’t true.
Jeong-yeon wasn’t someone with enough free time to meddle like that.
She was just as busy as Jaehyun, and there were more days when I didn’t even see her at home.
Could someone like her really raise Yeonha?
“A celebrity daughter-in-law sure brings a lot of noise.”
Despite the reproachful words, her expression remained calm.
Even past sixty, her skin was radiant, and her voice clear and elegant.
“I’m sorry. Just until the lawsuit is over… please take care of Yeonha.”
“Yujin, wouldn’t it be better to stop a fight that gains you nothing?”
She was not someone who spoke in roundabout ways.
The lawsuit between Jaehyun and me, reported on almost daily, must have been a burden on the Daewoong family as well.
“I only want Yeonha, Mother. Just Yeonha… please let me raise him.”
“Raising that child in the Daewoong family is also the chairman’s will.”
“If you mean that child…”
My breath caught.
My husband’s illegitimate child.
Had everyone known except me?
“It’s a son.”
“Mother… did you know from the beginning?”
“Yujin, that’s not how you protect your pride.”
“Would you have been any different from me right now?”
Jeong-yeon smiled as if the answer were obvious.
“I protect what is mine and gain something greater later. That’s my way. Acting without seeing what lies ahead… how clumsy.”
“Mother!”
“Wait for the right time. Between that child and Yeonha, there’s no guarantee Yeonha will have the advantage in the line of succession.”
“Ha… that makes no sense…”
This was wrong.
Completely wrong.
“My child… please let him grow up normally. I don’t want him to grow up in that place like Jaehyun did.”
My resolve to raise Yeonha myself only grew stronger.
I couldn’t raise my son to become someone who puts his father’s mood above all moral, ethical, and legal considerations.
Like Jaehyun.
“Normally… coming into the Daewoong family, you certainly dream big.”
[What do you think I am… what do you think the Daewoong family is? You sure dream big.]
Jaehyun’s words came to mind.
Was raising Yeonha myself nothing more than a dream?
They all felt like an enormous wall.
“Do you think I never wanted to run away like you?”
Jeong-yeon spoke as I sat there with my head lowered, a faint sigh escaping me.
A slight tremor lingered in her voice, which had never lost its elegance.
“Do you think… it was easy for me to accept that child?”
“I…”
I lifted my head and looked into her eyes.
As if unable to contain her emotions, a faint tremor flickered around her lips.
It was only for a brief moment, but I had never seen Jeong-yeon reveal her emotions like this before.
“Yujin. Stay quiet. Stay quiet, just like you’ve always done.”
Jeong-yeon’s face returned to its usual impassive expression.
She was telling me that everything I was doing was futile.
Just like I always had?
If I lived like that, would everything really be okay?
No.
I couldn’t live that way.
“I’m different from you, Mother.”
[I don’t know whether what you’re doing right now will help Yeonha.]
Officetel parking lot.
I had parked and turned off the engine, but couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car.
My mother-in-law’s words wouldn’t leave my ears.
Was I really not helping Yeonha?
Would he resent me when he grows up?
Painful thoughts stabbed at my heart like blades.
I miss you.
My Yeonha.
I stared at Yeonha’s photo on the dashboard for a long time before unfastening my seatbelt.
I couldn’t just sit here forever.
I checked my phone, but there were no messages from Sunwoo.
We hadn’t contacted each other since that day.
Should I reach out first?
The deadline for filing the appeal is tomorrow.
They say the thirsty one digs the well.
The one dying to know how the provisional appeal was going was me.
Thinking about how I had shoved that illegal entertainment business card into Sunwoo’s hand made me squeeze my eyes shut.
I went too far.
But if I went back, would I have been able to tolerate Sunwoo’s rudeness?
No.
No matter how I thought about it, I wasn’t the type to quietly behave as a chaebol family’s daughter-in-law.
“Ha…”
A sigh escaped, reflecting my tangled thoughts.
After meeting Sunwoo, I tried to recall Kim Sunwoo from middle school, but I couldn’t remember him clearly.
Until I knew what kind of person he was, I couldn’t fully trust him.
The fragmented memories only brought vague unease and discomfort.
The more I tried to reconnect the broken pieces of memory, the deeper the furrow in my brow became.
The beginning of those memories was Geumje-dong, sixteen years ago.
It was a cold wave so harsh I couldn’t even feel the snot running down my nose.
I tucked the confirmation form for basic livelihood support I received from my homeroom teacher into my bag and wiped my nose with my plum-colored gloves.
Ah, it’s so cold…
I could probably just lie and say I delivered this to Kim Sunwoo.
Should I just go home?
While waiting for the bus, I had to suppress the urge to go home countless times.
Endure it.
Don’t create gossip in the first place.
With my movie set to premiere next month, I had grown extremely sensitive to public reaction.
After breaking up with Senior Woosung last month, all sorts of cliché, trashy rumors spread—sponsorship, pregnancy, envelopes of money.
But what had already happened was beyond my control.
The only thing I could do was work hard as class president in the second semester to make up for it.
Still, Geumje-dong?
I could only feel foolish for my past self who volunteered to personally deliver this piece of paper to that troublemaker Kim Sunwoo just to get on the teacher’s good side.
After waiting twenty minutes, stamping my feet, I finally boarded the bus.
An unfamiliar bus, familiar stares.
It was the same wherever I went.
“Hey, Lee Yujin, Lee Yujin!”
“Where is she going?”
“Why did she break up with Choi Woosung?”
They probably think they’re whispering among themselves.
I can hear everything, you idiots.
I took my MP3 player out of my pocket.
Untangling the earphones wrapped around it, I put them in and closed my eyes.
I didn’t always carry makeup, but I always carried my earphones.
Music was the best way to block out the noise around me.
Geumje-dong, where Kim Sunwoo lived, was an hour away by bus.
It was such an unfamiliar sight that it hardly felt like Seoul.
The tightly packed houses were mostly low, so the sky was wide open and the view unobstructed.
“62-1… this must be it.”
Creak—
With an unpleasant metallic sound, the iron gate opened, and a grandmother with woolly permed hair came out.
“Oh my, who’s this?”
“Ah… hello, I came looking for Sunwoo’s house—Kim Sunwoo.”
At the mention of Sunwoo’s name, deep wrinkles formed on the grandmother’s face as she beamed.
“Oh my, in this cold, all the way here. Our Sunwoo ain’t back from school yet, what to do.”
“It’s okay. Please just pass this on to him.”
“Come in, come in. Have a meal before you go. I’ll make some meat soup right away.”
As I pulled the support confirmation form out of my bag, the grandmother grabbed my arm and pulled me inside the gate.
“Grandma, I’m really okay.”
“You came all this way—you’ve got to eat before you go. And see Sunwoo too.”
Despite shaking my head and waving my hands, I somehow ended up being dragged along by the grandmother.
With one hand still inside my bag.
