Chapter 4
It was clearly her who said she’d help him find his memories, and it was also her who said she’d do anything for him.
It was also her who readily accepted his somewhat impulsive proposal.
Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their roles had somehow reversed.
“Watch your behavior.”
His words from that morning were still so vivid. That’s why Jisoo, not knowing what to do, could only hold her sweaty hands together.
How exactly was she supposed to respond?
For a moment, she even wondered if he was jealous. Jisoo quietly stood up, forcing herself to endure the tightness in her chest.
“No.”
Her restless heart settled into one clear feeling after all the dismissive looks resignation. Not anger, not complaints, just resignation. Her eyes burned, and her nose stung.
“From now on, I’d prefer it if we only talk about work at the office.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly, as if surprised.
“Why? You don’t like talking about work at the hotel?”
As if to say, “Who do you think you are to act like this to me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like it.”
The next moment, his tightly closed lips opened with a short, dry laugh.
“Ah, so we’ll just sleep at the hotel then.”
“Sorry? That’s not what I meant”
“Then.”
Suddenly, he stood from his seat. Before Jisoo could even hide her startled expression, the space between them shrank.
His tall shadow fell over her small frame. Through the gap in his robe, his firm chest was visible. As Jisoo quickly lowered her gaze, a sneer came from him.
But his eyes his eyes were cold.
“Don’t be irritating.”
His words, sharp and cutting, made Jisoo bite her lower lip hard.
“You keep bothering me, Ms. Do Jisoo.”
Their fractured past, impossible to forget.
Hearing those words echoing from three years ago, tears threatened to fall for no reason.
“Please leave.”
The distance that had just closed between them now felt like an illusion. He stepped back again.
Just then, his phone rang. Jisoo bowed slightly, her hand clenching the bag strap so tightly that her knuckles turned blue. She hadn’t done anything, yet she felt exposed. She turned to leave just as he looked away.
“Yeah.”
His voice was indifferent not kind, not cold. But the way he spoke was clearly different from how he’d just spoken to her.
“Oppa, why aren’t you answering your phone?!”
A sharp, whiny female voice came through the receiver, making Jisoo’s heart sink.
“I’m busy. What is it?”
She caught a sideways glance from him and, afraid he’d notice she was listening, she hurried toward the hallway.
With his back to her, he turned toward the balcony, phone to his ear.
His calm, even voice still reached the room.
“Busy.”
With just that one simple word, he reduced their entire meeting to nothing.
It wasn’t wrong but it still stung like being torn apart.
Jisoo, lost in her familiar habit of self-pity, snapped out of it in the silence and quickly pulled herself together.
He seemed to have ended the call and was now facing her, phone still in hand. Their eyes met naturally. She felt like a statue she couldn’t even come up with a basic excuse.
Seeing her frozen like that, he gave a faint, mocking smile.
“You’re still here?”
Still wearing only a robe, as if to say there was no room for someone like her. It was a clear, open mockery.
It was the day when the four families gathered again at the Cha estate, centered around Chairman Cha Jongchan and his wife. It was the first time since Heon returned from the U.S.
Though called a family gathering, it was really just a formal dinner dressed up as one.
The exhibition is celebrating the 20th anniversary of the Taesung Art Foundation. It was the first task the chairman gave his son after he recovered and returned from treatment.
A ruthless business world. Cold stares were expected but he was still sick of them. The fine line between fatherly affection and business rationality. Even if this route made sense logically, Heon didn’t like it.
His father deliberately gave him something connected to his birth mother as if to provoke and test him. It felt like a declaration of war.
Walking through the long hallway past the ornate mother-of-pearl gate, Heon was greeted by the lady of the house, Madam Shim Boyoung.
“You’re here? A bit late. Ahjumma! Bring us some chamomile tea.”
That overly friendly face the moment she saw him irritated him.
Looking tired, Heon sat on the sofa and loosened his tight tie. The distance between stepmother and stepson, tied only by a legal document, felt much greater than the room between them.
“I thought you might’ve had enough coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for your health.”
Boyoung gently pushed the teacup toward Heon as the servant brought it in. She looked every bit the elegant, graceful wife of a wealthy family.
As if that seat had always belonged to her.
“You look tired. Make sure to rest a little.”
Even though her stepson was clearly cold toward her, she still acted as if she were happy.
Was she just thick-skinned? Or good at pretending? Heon always wondered about that when he saw her.
“You’re here? You said yesterday you probably couldn’t make it.”
“I had no reason not to.”
Cha Yihwa, Heon’s half-sister, greeted him from the stairs, stretching as she came down. Heon gave her a small wave in return.
After Yihwa sat, Chairman Cha Jongchan took his seat, and the table was soon filled with a feast.
As always, the only one speaking with any enthusiasm in the stiff atmosphere was Boyoung.
“You must feel so proud, Chairman. Having your son back and by your side.”
“You don’t know how much your father worried when you got into that accident. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
Then—”Pfft.”—a small, dismissive laugh broke the silence.
Even Heon, who had strong self-control, couldn’t help that instinctual laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just… funny.”
Heon replied casually to Chairman Cha’s sharp tone. Everyone knew there was meaning behind his words, so no one else dared laugh.
It was truly laughable. The way she talked as if she were actually his birth mother. That’s all. He laughed because it was ridiculous.
The mood quickly turned icy. Cha Jongchan let out a displeased grunt. Heon noticed Yihwa glancing around nervously.
This was why Heon hated coming to his family home. But soon, as if nothing happened, Boyoung’s voice chimed in again without shame.
“You should get married before your father gets any older. If you gave him a grandchild, he’d be overjoyed.”
Heon’s hand paused while picking up a neatly sliced rolled omelet.
Normally, parents hoping their grown children would marry wasn’t anything strange.
But it bothered him that she was the one saying it. And besides, Chairman Cha wasn’t even that old yet.
Clearly, her words were empty flattery.
Whether trying to please Cha Jongchan or provoke Heon either way, she succeeded.
“You’ve turned down every matchmaking offer, said no to everything, caused a mess how long are we supposed to wait?”
As if he had been waiting for this moment, Chairman Cha spoke up. His tone was softer than usual, likely because Boyoung was beside him.
“If there’s someone you like, bring her. A nice, proper young lady.”
A proper young lady. For some reason, that made him think of that woman.
Do Jisoo.
On the surface, she fit the image perfectly. But she constantly challenged his moods, pushed his boundaries, and messed up the neat life he’d planned.
With her already marked as trouble, her image clashed completely with the word “proper.”
“If I said let’s roll around in bed would you do it?”
What kind of face had she made at that question?
“Hmm”
Maybe she even nodded, with a serious and determined expression. Even though she’d just looked so hurt before.
He was the one who brought it up, yet somehow she made it feel like he was the bad guy. It annoyed him.
“There’s no one I like.”
Heon washed away the bitter thoughts with a sip of lukewarm water.
The sky looked dark like it was about to rain.
Jisoo visited her brother’s hospital for the first time in a while. Seeing her, Hongyeon held out her hand even before greeting her. Jisoo handed over the envelope without hesitation.
Hongyeon snatched it like she was stealing it. Her face, pale without makeup, looked even more tired.
“What did the doctor say?”
A dry question was met with a dry glance. Her eyes briefly met Jisoo’s, then shifted to the patient lying on the bed.
“They said the same thing. Not better, not worse.”
Not the answer Jisoo had hoped for. But at some point, not getting worse had become something to be thankful for.
“I might not be able to come by often.”
“A new exhibition started at work. I’ll probably be busy.”
Jisoo spoke quietly while looking at her brother’s thin, peacefully sleeping face.
Unable to bear even the short silence, she stood up.
At some point, the silence between mother and daughter began to feel like it was strangling her.
“Even if you’re busy”
She was about to leave, hand on the door, when her mother’s voice stopped her sounding slightly rushed.
That faint hope was like a drug she couldn’t quit.
“Don’t forget the money.”
Her mother’s added words made Jisoo smile faintly. What was she even hoping for?
“I’m going.”
She closed the hospital room door behind her. Not responding was the most defiant thing she could manage at that moment.
The gaze she had hoped for did not follow her.
