Chapter 07
When she turned ten, she had said to him:
“I’m going to marry you when I turn twenty, oppa!”
Unaware of the adults bursting into laughter, unaware of his face turning bright red in the middle of puberty, Seoyoung had urged him to hook pinkies with her.
“Hurry. I’m going to marry you, so you have to wait for me. My grandpa said that when I grow up, I’ll be a hundred times prettier than Sumi unni from the supermarket.”
In her childish heart, she had even brought up the supermarket owner’s daughter—her one and only rival.
When she heard she would see him again after twelve years—the boy who had reluctantly hooked fingers with her, face flushed from her childish persistence—her heart had fluttered wildly.
How excited she had been. Trying on dozens of outfits, putting on makeup and wiping it off, curling her hair and letting it fall again. She had been in a flurry for an entire week beforehand.
“It’s Seoyoung. Lee Seoyoung. Don’t you remember me?”
Han Seoha—much taller than when she’d seen him at ten, a thousand times more handsome, dressed like a model in a dark navy suit instead of a school uniform—answered coldly without even glancing her way.
“I don’t.”
At his words, her mother, who had been smiling, and her aunt—who had been laughing and saying she should be called “Mother” now instead of “Aunt”—both froze stiff. But it was fine.
Han Seoha had always been like that.
Even when they were young, for every one time he was kind, he was cold twelve times.
It wasn’t strange that he might have forgotten a promise made to a ten-year-old child. That was what Seoyoung told herself.
With neither Seoha nor Seoyoung speaking, her mother and aunt sank back into reminiscing about the old days. Remember when that happened? Stories poured out endlessly.
Seoyoung picked at the fruit tart in front of her, her eyes darting around.
She stole glances at Han Seoha, who didn’t even spare her a look—and her heart pounded.
The first love that had been romanticized in her imagination for years, growing larger and more beautiful in memory, was—unexpectedly—far more impressive in reality.
His already refined features had grown more masculine, his shoulders at least a handspan broader.
She had seen countless handsome men in Korea and in England—but all of them fell far short of Han Seoha.
The grown-up Han Seoha pressed down the faint image of the boy he had once been and left a firm footprint in her heart.
Maybe that was why—because he was dazzlingly handsome when they met again—she didn’t feel particularly disappointed when he drained his teacup and stood up, wearing the same indifferent expression whether the adults chattered or she secretly watched him.
“I’m very busy right now. I’ll probably stay busy for the next few years. But I’ll make sure someone looks after our Seoyoung well, so don’t worry.”
As her aunt spoke, Seoyoung nodded, cheeks flushed. She even thought it was a relief that Han Seoha hadn’t changed.
If she tried hard enough, he would become kind again, like before—she believed that.
Marrying her childhood first love—how romantic that sounded.
But after that, her mother’s death struck like a storm. She was briefly taken to Mangyangjae, then moved to Yeonhaedang. Even so, bright, cheerful, and gentle Lee Seoyoung tried her hardest.
To be loved by the man she loved.
To repay the affection of her in-laws who cherished her.
But in the end, what came back was a cruel coldness whose reason she could not understand.
“Love is enough. I’m done with it.”
Twenty-seven-year-old Lee Seoyoung—Seoyoung in the most beautiful season of her life, blooming like a flower—murmured like an old woman.
“There was a mistake in the secretary’s office. We have no excuse. I’m sorry. Assistant Lee will visit madam personally to apologize as well—”
“Why should he apologize to her? The one who suffered isn’t her.”
Han Seoha suddenly raised his voice.
The chief secretary, startled, lifted his bowed head to meet Seoha’s eyes.
By age and by family relation, Seoha was like a nephew. Though he carried the title of chief secretary, privately he was a distant uncle. They had never once raised their voices at each other before. Of course, the chief secretary was not someone prone to such mistakes.
“Who suffered?” he asked, puzzled. He had thought the explanation sufficient.
An order had come down from the CEO: pay for the women’s shoes he had selected at the luxury store in A Department Store and have them delivered. Also, reserve a suitable restaurant.
Naturally, the secretary’s office had recalled the incident from a few days earlier—the day the CEO had suddenly disappeared, throwing not only the office but Yeonhaedang into chaos.
It had been no ordinary day. It was the anniversary of Madam’s mother’s death. Even a week prior, the chairman and the elder madam would call both the secretary’s office and the main residence. That was how important the day was.
Yet the CEO had vanished and only showed up at the company the following morning.
So it was only natural the secretary’s office had assumed the shoes and reservation were meant for Madam. Afraid the picture-perfect couple might have quarreled, the staff had scrambled through various connections to secure the nearly impossible reservation at Le Garden’s rose conservatory.
A mistake was a mistake—there was no excuse. But at best, it had happened because they considered themselves like family.
Moreover, the birthday girl was Kang Naeun.
Was it truly something to get so angry about—that his wife had attended his cousin’s birthday party?
The shoes had been misdelivered? One phone call to the department store’s dedicated team and they could have them sent to Daejeon today.
The chief secretary looked at his boss again, puzzled.
Is he embarrassed?
The CEO, whose poker face was so flawless that people joked his hobby was frowning despite his handsome features, had a flushed nape.
Well… when the secretary had mentioned that he assumed it was for Madam since the CEO had missed her mother’s memorial a week ago, Seoha had indeed looked flustered.
So flustered that water spilled from the glass in his hand.
“You may go.”
Han Seoha let out a sigh.
As the door closed, the chief secretary glimpsed him slam his fist down on the desk and sighed as well.
“You should have said something.”
Han Seoha muttered words he didn’t need to say.
Whether to the chief secretary earlier or now to himself, he knew better than anyone that he was being unreasonable.
He said nothing had been mentioned—but that only applied to his wife, Seoyoung. There must have been a briefing a week ago, and certainly during the morning schedule briefing as well.
The problem was likely that he hadn’t listened carefully.
Leaning back deep into his chair, Seoha sighed again. The back of his neck felt stiff, and a dull ache throbbed in his sleep-deprived eyes.
Three and a half hours round trip to Daejeon. By the time he dropped Naeun off and returned, it was midnight. He showered at the residence near the company and lay down past one—but he couldn’t sleep at all.
Even if he had known it was the memorial day, he would still have gone to Daejeon. Ever since Seoyoung stopped looking after Naeun, anything related to Naeun had been entirely his responsibility.
His energy and time were insufficient even for the company.
He napped briefly on planes and in cars, ate boxed meals in his office, splitting his days into minutes. He barely had the capacity to care for Naeun, who was attending university in a provincial city.
He simply kept her allowance account filled and assumed she was doing fine now that she was over twenty.
Then came the phone call—Naeun had gotten into trouble.
His vision had gone dark. They weren’t biological siblings, but she was still his younger sister.
She had been dragged into his marital quarrel and sent down to Daejeon, and now she’d gotten into an accident there, with no one to rely on. It felt like it was all his fault.
Fortunately, it hadn’t been serious. A misunderstanding mixed with a minor incident, resolved without harm.
As he was about to return after calming the clearly shaken Naeun, she had timidly asked if he could spend her birthday with her.
The girl who never asked for anything had said that.
So he had agreed without hesitation. That was yesterday.
Seoyoung…
The secretary’s office had made a mistake. The department store team had made a mistake.
He didn’t know why the gift box meant for Kang Naeun had ended up at the Hannam-dong main residence with Lee Seoyoung’s name on it, but as Seoyoung had said—it was a mistake.
He had been hasty.
He had assumed she came to lash out again at a modest girl whose only wish was to share a birthday meal with her older brother.
He had thought she was trying to snatch even the gift he had prepared and make a scene—so he had exploded first.
His hand, which had been about to press his increasingly throbbing temple, paused.
Come to think of it… had Seoyoung ever once said anything harsh to Naeun?
Seoha’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
