Chapter 19. Gap
She felt blindsided.
His sharp words — “Shouldn’t you at least set aside your pride?” — slashed across her chest.
Had she really been clinging to her pride all this time?
As Yooa reflected on herself, she bit down on her lower lip.
She didn’t stop until her teeth dug in so deep that the skin turned pale from lack of blood flow.
“Haah.”
Perhaps realizing he’d gone too far, Lee Jun rubbed the back of his neck.
Then, looking at Yooa, whose clenched fists were trembling, he began to speak.
“You keep acting like you’re wary of me, never letting me close. One day you push me away, the next you’re in my arms.”
“Ah…”
“So which one is the real you, Yoon Yooa?”
And what does that make him — the man she keeps toying with?
Lee Jun let out a hollow laugh, his head tilting to one side.
“I…”
Yooa trailed off and dropped her head low.
Was her erratic behavior nothing more than childish whining?
Had she unconsciously leaned on him, thinking the man she once knew would still accept her, no matter what?
But he wasn’t her husband anymore.
If she could, she’d crawl into a hole and disappear.
“A r-rat… no, a squirrel?”
“What?”
“I think a squirrel got into the camper. Can we take care of that first?”
Her teary expression made it clear she couldn’t stay inside until it was gone.
Lee Jun took off his jacket and tossed it by the bed.
It landed gently at Yooa’s feet, brushing across the tops of her toes.
“Put that on and wait outside. I’ll call you when I catch it.”
Yooa quickly slipped her hands into the jacket at his warning that it was cold outside.
Worn over her pajamas, the oversized jacket hung down to her knees, making her look like a child dressed in her father’s clothes.
The sleeves nearly covered her hands.
Lee Jun climbed all the way up the stairs and stepped aside.
Without saying anything, his movement clearly meant: “Get out, I’ll take care of it.”
Even without words, Yooa understood.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah.”
The way she accepted his help so easily, with just a lift of her eyebrows, gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.
Why again?
Lee Jun asked gruffly.
Seeing Yooa flinch at even the smallest gesture of kindness — while wearing his clothes and staring up with those round eyes — annoyed him.
“You’re strange.”
“Me?”
“…Why are you being so nice to me? You’re not that kind of person.”
Her cautious, mistrustful gaze toward him was more intense than it had been toward the squirrel.
Lee Jun bit down on his lip, worried that if he cursed, she’d misunderstand.
It was harder than expected to hold it in.
“You think you know me that well?”
“That’s…”
Usually, if she thanked him, Lee Jun would make some sly comment about accepting gratitude in another way.
But this time, he walked toward her — Yooa, still curled up on the bed, unable to even lower her legs properly.
He extended his right hand.
“You hate rodents. Hamsters, squirrels, capybaras — all the same to you.”
“They’re still… rodents. They count.”
“Right.”
He remembered how, when she was about fifteen, she’d mistaken a black plastic bag for a rat and screamed.
After that, he’d started keeping a hamster at home — not that either of them believed it was for anything but teasing her.
“What are you doing? You gonna sit there all day?”
“Vice President, are you enjoying this?”
“Well… maybe a little?”
He smiled, calling it a small “event” at the end of his workday.
If only he wouldn’t smile like that.
When Yooa silently stared down at him, Lee Jun withdrew his outstretched hand.
Then, wrapping his arms around her waist, he gently lifted her down.
Gone was the beast who had once crushed her like he’d shatter her bones.
His touch now was careful. Respectful.
“Wait outside.”
His whisper tickled her ear like cotton candy.
The gentleness of it made Yooa freeze.
She couldn’t even speak.
Instead, she only nodded stiffly.
*
The long spout of the kettle steamed with white mist as Yooa stared at it blankly.
The water was boiling, but she sighed, unsure what to do next.
From inside the camper, she heard the sound of things being lifted and set down —
alternating with the tap tap of tiny claws running up the wall.
“Well, I asked him to deal with it. The least I can do is offer a cup of warm coffee.”
Yooa filled a deep brown stainless steel cup with coffee grounds.
But she hesitated before pouring the water.
“No, what if he gets the wrong idea?”
He’d definitely accuse her of trying to keep him awake.
Lee Jun’s insomnia was like a chronic illness — the timing wasn’t ideal.
Or worse, he’d grin and ask if she wanted him to drink it and then go home.
“He won’t drink tea… and I can’t just give him hot water.”
Lee Jun liked strong coffee — even acidic Americanos had to be double-shot for him.
Muttering to herself, Yooa added another heaping teaspoon of grounds to the cup.
“Seriously, you’re such a frustrating person.”
After much deliberation, she finally poured the hot water.
Whether or not he drank it was his problem now.
Just then, Lee Jun stepped down from the camper, gripping a small bag tightly shut.
“It was fast. You’d never have caught it on your own.”
His cheek, the back of his hand, and his arm were scratched — battle scars, it seemed.
“Looked like it wanted cereal. It had stuffed its cheeks full of nuts and was shaking the cereal container.”
Lee Jun walked to the edge of the clearing and set the bag down.
In the darkness, the squirrel darted off nimbly.
Dusting off his hands, he turned to Yooa.
“That for me?”
“Ah!”
Her cheeks turned red as steam curled up from the cup.
Just as she opened her mouth to say “Thanks, but you don’t have to drink it,”
a completely different sentence tumbled out.
“If you drink that, you won’t be able to sleep.”
Before she could stop him, he brought the cup to his lips.
Yooa grabbed his hand in panic.
Looking at her hand wrapped around his, Lee Jun asked in a low voice:
“So? You don’t want me to drink it?”
“No… I mean, yes. I mean…”
“But you made it for me, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Then it’s fine.”
As he tilted the cup, the moonlight illuminated the scratch on his cheek.
Realizing she was staring, Lee Jun raised an eyebrow, assuming it was because of the coffee.
“Insomnia’s like a long-standing hobby at this point. One cup of coffee won’t make a difference.”
Relieved, Yooa exhaled deeply.
Lee Jun took another sip.
“But for some reason, I sleep a few hours just fine when I stay in the camper.”
“…What?”
“Can I sleep here tonight?”
“Here?!”
Her shrill voice asked why — when home was right there — he’d want to sleep here.
Lee Jun countered: Didn’t you just say there was a squirrel in here all night? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have slept a wink.
“But still…”
Smiling, he set down the now-empty cup.
“Let’s help each other. I helped you. Now it’s your turn.”
Lee Jun from four years ago wasn’t this shameless.
Catching a squirrel came with quite the price.
“Not like I’m asking for anything. Sorry if you were expecting more.”
“Vice President!”
The more she talked around him, the worse it got.
He had a way of turning words against her.
“I’m tired. I’ve been in meetings all week and barely went home.”
His drowsy eyes — was it real fatigue or just part of the act?
Yooa couldn’t respond. She just breathed heavily.
Then, with a soft smile, he added:
“Yooa.”
“…”
“All you have to say is, ‘Okay.’”
