ENM 02

Chapter 2

“Yeah. Since it has come to this, let’s end things here. Before things get any more complicated.”

He was the one who had made things messy first, and now he was saying they shouldn’t get more complicated.

At his selfish attitude, which remained one-sided until the very end, the smile disappeared from Woo-yeon’s face.

Only their quiet breathing could be heard in the silent room.

His appearance on the TV show had lasted only two months. Thinking that those two months had erased an entire year made her feel empty. The amount of time they had known each other did not necessarily match the depth of their feelings, but now that she knew how much effort he had put into the new woman, her chest burned with a sense of betrayal.

“So this is what it feels like. Like I’ve just been standing there as a decoration.”

Looking at Yu-gun, who remained calm in front of their breakup as if it were someone else’s business, Woo-yeon muttered.

“Yu-gun is right. We are very different. Whether it’s our ideas or our values.”

“Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

At Yu-gun’s words, which sounded like lyrics from an old-fashioned love song, Woo-yeon gave a mocking laugh.

If they really weren’t meant to be, then what were all those sweet words he had whispered to her throughout their time together?

“I dated you quietly because I wanted us to respect each other’s lives. Rather than making things noisy by openly dating a star chef, I wanted us to be able to focus on our own work. But I never thought you would do this behind my back.”

She began to feel that all the time and effort she had given him had been wasted. Even so, Woo-yeon calmed herself down, trying not to get angry.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I’ve said everything I have to say.”

His careless voice was completely insincere. At Yu-gun’s attitude as he stared at nothing but the corner of the table, Woo-yeon took out her phone.

“Fine. Let’s end it. I was already so busy that I barely had time to think, so this works out for both of us. Let’s do that.”

Right in front of him, she deleted his number. Then she deleted her own number from Yu-gun’s phone, which was lying on the table. She laughed bitterly at how foolish she had been, worrying about what she would do if she received a marriage proposal without knowing what was happening.

What an idiot.

“Congratulations. Be happy.”

“There’s no need to delete my number too. Are you really going to cut off all contact just because we broke up? It’s not like we’re ending things on bad terms.”

What?

“You cheated on me and we’re breaking up. And you’re saying we’re not ending things on bad terms?”

A hollow laugh escaped from Woo-yeon’s lips, but soon burning irritation rose in her eyes.

“Do you need me as a backup? Breaking up isn’t a joke. Are you playing with me?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Woo-yeon snapped at him. Yu-gun frowned deeply and hurried to explain himself.

“No, think about it. We have so many connections in common. If we suddenly act like strangers, what will people think?”

“So you cheated, and I’m supposed to clean up the mess?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

The truth she had been unable to swallow finally burst out of her mouth. At her disgusted gaze, Yu-gun’s mouth fell open.

“Kang Yu-gun, when someone acts this thoughtlessly in a situation like this, the first thing they should do is apologize to me. Fine, maybe your feelings changed. Maybe you saw someone new and your heart was shaken. Maybe the occasional ramen can be more exciting than the rice you eat every day. Fine, let’s say that’s why you did it. But then, at the very least, you should have apologized first. You should have said that you were shaken and that you were sorry for hurting me. Before worrying about your own reputation.”

“It’s not like that, Woo-yeon.”

“If you were afraid of what other people would think, you shouldn’t have done something that would make people point fingers at you. Didn’t you think this far before making a mess of things?”

Woo-yeon stood up.

“Don’t ever contact me again.”

Ignoring Yu-gun’s voice calling after her, she left the restaurant.

The streets had grown dark.

On the dark evening street, with the rain falling, she finally let out the breath she had been holding. Her eyes began to sting.

“I’m so angry.”

She let out a deep sigh until her chest rose and fell, but then her stomach growled. Only then did she remember that she had barely eaten half a sandwich for lunch and had not eaten anything since.

Growl.

Clutching her protesting stomach, Woo-yeon looked up at the sky.

“Seriously, everything is happening today.”

Even now, she was hungry.

You’re still alive, Ko Woo-yeon.

Really, this was the most miserable moment imaginable.

“This is why I crossed all the way through Seoul?”

She had fought through the hellish roads during Thursday evening rush hour just for this.

Half of her felt like crying, while the other half wanted to laugh. If she had known this would happen, she should have just eaten at the Korean set-meal restaurant in front of the gallery.

The bitterness in her mouth and the ache in her heart from the heartbreak lasted only for a moment.

I should go somewhere nearby and at least get something to eat.

But just as Woo-yeon raised her hand to open her umbrella, she let out a short sigh.

“Ah.”

The hand that should have been holding an umbrella was holding the tart box instead.

The rain was still falling, and the dark asphalt glistened with water. In the sticky, warm breeze, Woo-yeon muttered helplessly.

“Why is everything going wrong today?”

Is there really nothing that can go right?

Even the tart box in her hand seemed hateful today.

Three seasons had passed, and this was what remained.

Another empty place.

Woo-yeon put the white tart box down on the stairs and silently walked into the rain.

The night of the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, was growing deeper.

Nason Gallery, located in Gahoe-dong, Jongno-gu, had operated for decades without even putting up a sign, relying entirely on reservations. Nason Gallery was a place that those who knew about it knew, but no one knew about it exactly. Closely and secretly connected to chaebol families, the gallery had established itself after its representative, Na Seon-hee, began helping major chaebol families collect artwork in the 1990s.

Representative Na had an exceptional ability and eye for satisfying the difficult tastes of chaebol families. Known as a major power in the art world, she was still actively working.

The reason Representative Na, approaching her late fifties, had gained such influence in the art world was largely because of Seo Jeong-ju, the wife of the owner of the leading Korean corporation Haeshin Group and the director of Haeshin Art Center.

Representative Na Seon-hee had grown the gallery while actively helping Director Seo Jeong-ju with her collection. Now, the gallery mainly served as a channel for collecting artwork for the Haeshin Art Center run by Director Seo.

Woo-yeon had been working at Nason Gallery, where every customer was a VVIP, for two years. Before joining this place, Woo-yeon had worked as a curator at a large art museum. After changing jobs, she faithfully took on the role of an art dealer who sold artwork, as well as a gallerist who planned exhibitions and managed artists.

In the quiet representative’s office, Representative Na and Woo-yeon sat facing each other.

Representative Na had a firm, well-maintained figure from exercising and a short silver haircut that ended just below her ears. It was hard to believe that she was in her late fifties. Representative Na opened her mouth.

“How is the preparation for Baekya Festival going?”

“Yes, Representative. The invitations have been sent out, and we’re currently checking the RSVPs.”

Répondez, s’il vous plaît. They were waiting for the guests to reply about whether they would attend.

In summer and winter, Nason Gallery presented the artwork it had collected and owned to outsiders twice a year. Those special exhibitions were called Baekya Festival. Among the employees, this period was called “Miseon Season,” taking the first and last letters of “midnight sun,” which meant Baekya.

“I’ll make sure everything is prepared without any problems.”

Sniff.

At the sound that echoed through the quiet room, Representative Na raised her head. Her sharp gaze studied Woo-yeon from behind her gold-rimmed glasses with pointed corners. Beneath the cool air from the air conditioner, Woo-yeon’s nose was red as she pulled her bright blue cashmere cardigan closer around herself.

“Manager Ko, did you catch a cold?”

“I got caught in the rain a little while ago. I’m sorry.”

“You? Something like that happened to you?”

Representative Na raised an eyebrow as if genuinely surprised.

“Wouldn’t Manager Ko be the kind of person who would take out a spare umbrella and say, ‘Take this,’ even if it suddenly started pouring right now? Be more careful. They say even dogs don’t catch summer colds.”

Saying there was no reason for Woo-yeon to apologize to her, Representative Na clicked her tongue sadly and called someone.

“It’s me. I want to get some medicine. No, not for me. For our Manager Ko.”

Representative Na often benefited from her husband, who ran a large traditional medicine clinic in Jamsil every season. Even though Woo-yeon had received nourishing herbal medicine containing deer antler with the rest of the gallery staff at the beginning of the year, she was getting more again.

“I’m fine, Representative.”

As soon as Woo-yeon carefully began to speak, Representative Na raised her index finger and slowly waved it, as if telling her not to interrupt.

“Put everything that’s good for the body in it and send it by quick delivery. She caught a cold in this weather. That means we need to take even better care of her. Hurry. It’s urgent.”

There was no use in awkwardly protesting. Her polite refusal would not work either, so Woo-yeon could only accept whatever Representative Na gave her.

As the head of one of the most prominent commercial galleries in Korea and a major power in the art world, Representative Na was a woman who needed everything to happen according to her wishes.

After Representative Na hung up, Woo-yeon spoke.

“Thank you, Representative.”

“You know me. I don’t give kindness without a reason. I’ll get something out of what I put into you. So do well. I’m counting on Manager Ko.”

Although Woo-yeon had been with Nason Gallery for two years, it was Na Seon-hee who had personally recruited her to this place.

The Ko Woo-yeon from three years ago was no different from the woman she was now.

Representative Na remembered Woo-yeon when she was still working as a curator at an art museum.

Although the term “curator” was used broadly only in Korea, the work at an art museum was clearly different from that of a commercial gallery. Even so, Representative Na had heard about Woo-yeon’s work here and there.

After Woo-yeon curated exhibitions, sales of those artists’ works increased. Artists preferred working with her, and her exhibitions often became topics of conversation.

Because art museums and museums were operated as non-profit organizations, they followed a completely different path from commercial galleries. But Woo-yeon’s curation had the power to move people’s hearts.

She had the ability to turn things that did not make money into money, and likewise, the ability to turn things that could make money into actual money.

But what impressed Representative Na even more was that, as global gallerist Larry Gagosian had once said, Woo-yeon had the power to make people feel that an important work of art was truly important.

Although she was a curator, Woo-yeon possessed abilities perfectly suited to being a dealer, along with an exceptional eye for art.

She was exactly the kind of person Nason needed.

From the moment Representative Na first saw Woo-yeon, she had a feeling.

Woo-yeon was made of the same kind of material as herself.

Perhaps that was why Woo-yeon felt a little more special to her.

“Ah, and this.”

Representative Na handed Woo-yeon a touchpad containing customer information.