chapter 07
“Happy birthday, Seoha.”
That day was Seoha’s twentieth birthday—the day she truly became an adult.
Seung-oh, who had been coming home late for months, claiming to be busy, didn’t even appear until after ten that night, her birthday. His face smudged with coal, his hands wrapped in burn ointment and bandages.
Seoha, unsure of what to do, reached for his hand without even opening the large shopping bag he offered.
“What happened to your hand? Did you get hurt?”
“It’s nothing.”
Seung-oh awkwardly hid his hand behind him and gave a small smile.
“Open this.”
Finally, when Seoha opened the shopping bag, there was a gift: an extremely expensive handbag for Seung-oh and a delicate little flower.
“What is this? Something so expensive…?”
“I’ve been working part-time at a barbecue restaurant. It’s your special birthday.”
Even working all night, polishing the grill and replacing the charcoal, he only earned a few tens of thousands of won. Yet he had saved that money carefully, bought a small bag, and smiled proudly. Did Seoha love him back then, I wonder?
“Happy birthday, my princess.”
I loved him when he said that. I loved the warm breath mingling in the chilly night air. I loved our younger selves, and the love we shared then.
Seoha hid all her emotions behind an elegant rose-patterned teacup and spoke to the woman sitting opposite her.
“Your complexion has improved, Lee Jisoo.”
An unforgettable twentieth birthday. A day when Seoha was more upset about Seung-oh’s bandaged hand than the joy of receiving the gift, and the bag she had hugged and cried over alone was now sitting neatly on Jisoo’s lap.
“You tried to look modest and thrifty, but I guess you still wanted a luxury bag?”
“Huh? This is… I mean…”
“I know. Seung-oh gave it to you.”
Jisoo’s eyes, which had been nervously darting around, suddenly became sharp. She probably thought it was coming.
Seoha was curious. Would she react like a cliché mistress, arrogantly? Or cry and apologize? Or maybe claim the right to remain silent?
“I—I didn’t ask him to buy it.”
Jisoo shook her head. So, she chose to cry and apologize?
“I know that too. Who in the world would be foolish enough to demand an outdated season bag at an outlet store? Luxury bags aren’t cheap.”
“……”
Perhaps she didn’t know the details. This wasn’t a situation to feel happy about, but seeing Jisoo’s face stiffen slightly lifted Seoha’s mood, just a little.
“You should have just asked him. If you had studied a little, you could’ve gotten something far more valuable.”
“I’m not interested in these things!”
Jisoo lifted her chin and replied confidently.
“You wouldn’t understand women who memorize every season’s luxury bag and dress in designer brands, but the real point is the person inside. What use is a luxury bag if the person isn’t a luxury themselves?”
“Pfft!”
Seoha nearly spit out her tea. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and repeated the words she just heard.
“A person should be luxury themselves?”
“Yes. People who lack confidence wrap themselves in expensive clothes and jewelry to appear impressive. The ones who shine without all that are the true luxuries.”
At that moment, Seoha realized her mother was right—people who preach “a person should be a luxury” aren’t actually luxury themselves.
“Ahahaha!”
The absurdity made her burst into laughter. Once it started, she couldn’t stop. Jisoo frowned as Seoha giggled, covering her mouth with a napkin.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just too ridiculous. Pfft!”
Seoha giggled again and finally managed to swallow a sip of tea.
“Wouldn’t you laugh too, Jisoo? I mean, if you were in my position.”
Jisoo seemed confused, so Seoha explained further:
“I’m Yoon Seoha. And here sits a woman who only knows how to make pancakes, telling me ‘a person should be a luxury.’ Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“Your way of judging people is completely wrong!”
Jisoo retorted sharply.
“Then should I judge by another standard?”
Seoha’s voice, still tinged with laughter, turned sharp.
“Jisoo, you’re a mistress caught having an affair with someone else’s husband. You know what a mistress is, right?”
Seoha enunciated every syllable as she stared at Jisoo’s trembling eyes.
“Mi-stress.”
“Hey!”
Jisoo clenched her teeth at the word “trash.”
“Why do some people get angry when they hear the truth? Explain it, mistress.”
The word “mistress” felt completely out of place in the hotel café filled with classical music. Nearby patrons stopped talking and tuned in. Jisoo stiffened her neck even more.
“The one who was wrong first was Seung-oh, turning to another woman while leaving you alone. He didn’t have the courage to face his wife, so he used me as an easy target. Take responsibility for yourself instead of blaming me!”
She had chosen the cliché mistress’s audacious approach. That line sounded familiar, as if from romance dramas. Does she take a mistress lecture course?
“Do you know how I know so much about your bag?”
“Because you’re obsessed with luxury. Typical empty-headed rich girl.”
Jisoo spoke fluently, clearly saying what she wanted.
“I see. You want to think that, luxury mistress.”
Jisoo’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s mine. Seung-oh gave it to me for my birthday.”
On her twentieth birthday, beneath the pine tree in the garden, the same age as Seoha.
“But he should have picked a tackier one. I accepted it, but it looked too cheap for me to carry. He probably stole it from his own closet, where it would have gathered dust for years, and gave it to you.”
My first treasure. The gift I had received from him, bought with his all-night labor for my twentieth birthday.
“You think I’m lying to make you mad? That bag has a lipstick stain inside the pocket. No warranty or receipt—they were thrown away long ago.”
The receipt and warranty had been carefully stored with dried flower petals in another box.
“Show it off all you want. The trash that would have collected dust and mold in my house finally found its rightful owner.”
Seoha hated herself for having stained such a precious item. Jisoo’s face suddenly turned bright red, like a tomato about to be blended.
“W-what of it?”
“I’m saying that your ‘prideful charm’ is only that. You want food, but don’t want to spend money, so you’re like a pet being fed leftover rice by its owner.”
Jisoo opened her lips as if to respond, but Seoha waved her hand toward the entrance.
“Honey, over here!”
Unaware of anything, Seung-oh walked over. It took only a few seconds for his otherwise handsome face to register shock.
“Jisoo…?”
He awkwardly addressed both women with formalities.
“Why are you two together? Coincidence?”
“You know it’s not.”
He was sharp enough to grasp the situation with that one sentence. As Seoha expected, his awkward smile vanished instantly.
“What are you doing?”
“You first.”
Seoha stared coldly at Seung-oh—her first love, her first man, the husband she had believed she would love forever.
“What are you doing, Seung-oh?”
Seung-oh bit his pale lips, looking more nervous than on their wedding day.
“Let’s go somewhere quiet and talk this out.”
“Let’s settle it right here.”
Seoha pulled a thick envelope from her handbag and placed it firmly on the table.
“These are divorce papers. I’ve already signed them. You just need to stamp yours and leave them on the table.”
Her calm tone, expression, and the stamped papers were shocking. Seung-oh blinked rapidly, his eyes wide.
“What?”
“Divorce. Let’s do it.”
Seoha emphasized the word “divorce.”
Now Seung-oh would cry, beg for forgiveness, say she was crazy, that the other woman meant nothing, that it was a fleeting temptation, and that the only woman he truly loved was Yoon Seoha—and always would be. Then she would forgive him.
She knew it was foolish, but the heart works like that. Yoon Seoha had loved Seung-oh too long and too deeply to sever ties cleanly.
“Divorce…”
Seung-oh muttered softly and read the papers:
“Assets shall remain in each party’s name. Seung-oh shall pay Seoha one hundred million won in alimony. Both parties agree to the above terms.”
“Stamp them, gather your things, and leave them on the table.”
Seoha believed there would be no negotiations. Seung-oh would break up with Jisoo here and spend the rest of his life atoning to Seoha.
“Fine.”
Wait—what was he saying?
“I’ll need some time to prepare the alimony. Let’s inform our parents after the paperwork is done. You wouldn’t want to be told what to do about something already settled anyway.”
If she heard correctly, he wasn’t begging—he chose divorce.
“…Is that it?”
“Anything else to add? I don’t have.”
“Is that all you have to say? No ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘please forgive me’?”
Seoha’s composure faltered; her voice trembled. The confidence Seung-oh had in bringing signed divorce papers to her crumbled.
“Of course, I feel sorry for you. But I’m not going to apologize.”
Before Seoha, Seung-oh shrugged and took Jisoo’s hand.
“Seoha, understand. If I apologize here, it would mean my love for Jisoo was wrong.”
