I 05

Chapter 05

*That was before you started ignoring me.*

It felt awkward now to call Gyobeom by such an intimate, cheek-burning title.

“It’s been a long time.”

At that, Gyobeom’s brow furrowed. Chayun swallowed her breath.

*Could he be remembering that day too?*

*That can’t be. He must have erased it from his mind by now.*

She lightly shook her head and spoke.

“Anyway, thank you for your help. I should be going now.”

“Your arm.”

“Excuse me?”

Gyobeom placed her hand on his knee and neatly rolled up her sleeve.

“No, why would you—I, I can—”

“It stings.”

As the antiseptic touched her wound, the pain spread like smoke. Chayun bit her lower lip and endured the ache.

After applying gauze and tape to her elbow, Gyobeom rolled her sleeve back down.

She thought he was done and tried to stand, but Gyobeom gently pressed her shoulder back down.

“Lift your skirt.”

Chayun’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.

*What did I just hear?*

“What did you just say—”

“Blood is seeping through.”

She looked down and saw that the knee area of her black skirt was deeply stained. When had she hurt that?

“I’ll do it myself.”

“Should I lift it for you?”

Gyobeom showed no sign of backing down.

“Shouldn’t you be going inside? Everyone must be looking for you.”

“That depends on you.”

Beneath his furrowed brow, a hint of irritation flickered in his dark eyes. But he didn’t look away from her.

It was scary, yet somehow… made her heart flutter.

*I’m crazy, Hong Chayun.*

This was why unrequited love was frightening. No matter what the other person did, it all looked good to you.

“Hurry.”

Overwhelmed by his presence, Chayun hesitantly lifted her skirt. Her knees were completely scraped. The moment she saw the blood, her face crumpled.

*Ugh. Seeing it makes it hurt more.* Chayun wiped the blood with the handkerchief Jinsu had given her earlier.

“…”

Gyobeom watched her with an unreadable gaze.

“Bear with it.”

“Excuse me? Ah…!”

The moment Chayun finished wiping the blood, Gyobeom covered her knee with gauze soaked in antiseptic.

The stinging pain spread. It hurt far more than the wounds on her palms.

But she couldn’t make a sound. Because Gyobeom had told her to bear it.

The wrinkles in the hem of her skirt, which she was gripping, grew deeper.

“That bastard earlier.”

As she gritted her teeth and endured the pain, Gyobeom suddenly spoke.

“How did you run into him?”

“Ugh, I-I came out to dump some hot water, and he grabbed my arm.”

At that, Gyobeom muttered a curse under his breath.

“Wouldn’t it be better to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine, ugh. I don’t need to go.”

“What if you’d broken something.”

“I didn’t. They’re just, ugh, scrapes.”

“You’re stubborn for someone who looks like a pushover.”

“A p-pushover…! I’m not that bad, you know?”

As Chayun bristled, the corners of Gyobeom’s eyes softened a little. The corner of his mouth too, very slightly.

“You still react the same way when poked.”

At his muttering, Chayun was momentarily speechless, staring at his face.

“What.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what.”

“You didn’t even look at me or acknowledge my greetings for six years. And now suddenly you’re acting like this—I’m confused.”

Gyobeom paused, then applied ointment to a cotton swab and began spreading it on her knee.

His touch was so careful and delicate that Chayun felt her face might burn red.

Then, as she watched his intense gaze fixed on her knee, her cheeks inevitably flushed.

After carefully applying a bandage, Gyobeom pulled the hem of her skirt from her fingers and smoothed it back down.

He rose and looked down at her, seated on the porch.

His arrogant, proud eyes were the same as always.

So why were his actions different?

“What did you say?”

His low voice tightened around her chest, sending a chill through it.

“…I’m just curious why you’re acknowledging me like this after six years.”

If he found her in trouble, it would be more like Gyobeom to just pass by, or if he wanted to help, to send someone rather than get involved himself.

“Indeed.”

He tilted his head.

“I’m curious too.”

“What do you mean—”

“Why I did that.”

His gaze slowly traced down the black hanbok she was wearing.

Everyone who worked at Hyeonhamwon and served the chairman’s family up close wore black suits and mourning clothes, with hemp armbands. It was a symbol of being one family. It was also meant to reinforce solidarity.

Though she now lived outside, Chayun had once lived at Hyeonhamwon, and her grandmother still worked in the kitchen, so it was natural for her to wear mourning clothes.

But Gyobeom didn’t seem pleased by that fact.

The plain, dark mourning clothes made Chayun’s fair skin and delicate features stand out even more.

In particular, the graceful line from her neck to her shoulders was clearly visible, drawing his gaze again and again.

That bastard who’d threatened her probably had his eyes turned by that very figure too.

“At a crucial time like this.”

Gyobeom reached out toward Chayun.

“Why am I acting like this, Chayun-ah?”

Their eyes met.

Unlike Chayun’s wildly trembling pupils, his were calm and composed.

Gyobeom’s eyes were still too deep and dark to see what lay within.

Just as she could barely breathe from the tension—

A large hand gently cupped her cheek.

“Ah…”

As Chayun let out a short gasp, an unreadable emotion poured down like a rainstorm from Gyobeom’s eyes.

Chayun felt as if her whole body was drenched. And so, unconsciously, she called out to him as if to stop him.

“Sun—no, Managing Director.”

At that, the hand stroking her cheek stopped abruptly.

“Hong Chayun.”

Gyobeom withdrew his hand, his expression turning cold.

“Yes?”

“When was I ever your Managing Director?”

His sharp voice cut deep into Chayun’s chest.

“Don’t do things I didn’t ask you to.”

At his chilled demeanor, she shrank back again.

*Ah, really. I can never read his mood, never.*

“…Yes.”

But what could she do? In this place, the Gu family’s word was law.

“You’re cursing me out in your head again, aren’t you.”

*Hmm.* As he stared at her as if trying to read her thoughts, Chayun jumped.

“Cursing! No, never, absolutely not.”

“A strong denial is a strong affirmation.”

“Wh-when did I ever say that—”

“The year you turned twenty.”

Chayun’s pupils dilated and trembled. *When I was twenty?*

“You jumped up and said you wouldn’t be lonely even if you spent your birthday alone, then ended up crying.”

She stared at him with her mouth open.

“Why that face.”

“Just… surprised.”

“At what now.”

“That you still remember that.”

*That she still occupied a place somewhere in Gyobeom’s mind.*

She rubbed her aching chest with her palm. Then his next words left her breathless.

“Isn’t that only natural?”

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

“It’s not like it was that long ago.”

Chayun bristled inwardly.

*That was before you started ignoring me, you know?*

But she kept her mouth firmly shut. Because she’d learned through years of experience that saying anything was useless.

What she had learned in that time was resignation.

After that day, she’d tried to talk to Gyobeom, and she’d waited for him to say something to her—but in the end, nothing ever came back.

The kindness he was showing her now was probably just another fleeting whim.

Once she left this place, he’d go back to ignoring her with that indifferent gaze, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Just then, Jinsu approached and called out to Gyobeom.

“Managing Director, I think you should be going now.”

“You seem busy. I’ll be going too. Thank you for your help.”

Chayun rose from her seat. Her knees throbbed, but she put strength into her thighs and endured.

“Then.”

“Hong Chayun.”

Gyobeom’s voice wrapped around her body like chains, rendering her unable to move.

She’d thought she’d run far away.

But she felt as if she were still stuck in that time when she’d been pining for Gyobeom.

“I’ll see you again.”

*Ha. As if you mean that.*

“Don’t overdo it.”

She gripped the hem of her skirt tightly.

She wished he wouldn’t say things like that so casually.

Because the one hearing them would be trapped in this moment for days, unable to move.

Instead of answering, Chayun gave a slight bow and turned her back on him, walking toward where she’d been working.

“…”

With his hands in his pockets, Gyobeom stood watching Chayun’s retreating figure.

Jinsu seemed about to say something but stopped.

Right now, he wouldn’t hear or see anything.

Only one woman.

“Managing Director.”

It was only after Chayun’s figure had completely disappeared from view that Jinsu stepped closer and spoke.

“You’re late. Everyone’s waiting.”

Gyobeom took a light breath and turned around. Then, once more, he looked back toward where Chayun had vanished.

Only after confirming that there was no one there did he finally leave.

—

*** * ***

“Dear, what happened to you, hm?”

“I fell on my way here.”

“Oh dear, that’s why this grandma always tells you to be careful!”

Okchun scolded with her words, but her worried eyes scanned her granddaughter all over.

“I’m fine. Just a few scrapes.”

“But why are you limping, hm?”

“My knees are just throbbing a bit. It’ll be fine after some time.”

“I told you to just dump the water, so why did you come back all banged up, hm? And you left the pot behind?”

“Oh, right!”

Just as Chayun hurriedly turned to go back to where she’d come from—

A man in a black suit was walking toward her, carrying the pot she’d left behind.

“The Managing Director sent me.”

Chayun’s heart wavered.

*Gyobeom sent this?*

She’d thought he’d completely forgotten about her after she’d walked away.

*Why? You’ve been pretending not to see me all this time.*

Why was he trying to shake her heart now?

She’d never really understood what went on in Gyobeom’s mind, then or now.

Maybe he needed something from her.

So he could use her… and throw her away again.