Chapter 14
Before explaining herself, Ha-in instinctively gave a warning, worried that Jung-min might start scolding her without even hearing the whole story.
“Don’t get angry. Just listen first.”
“You’re already giving me a preface before even starting?”
His tone lifted at the end, as though he sensed something was off.
“I had my reasons.”
“And what reasons could those possibly be?”
“Are you going to listen or not?”
“…Fine. I’ll stay quiet and hear you out.”
Thankfully, her request worked. Relieved, Ha-in began recounting everything—starting with the moment she told Jung-ho she wanted to break off the engagement.
Perhaps because she had already hinted at it, Jung-min stayed silent through the entire explanation. In fact, he was so quiet that when she finished, Ha-in had to cough deliberately to break the silence.
“So, you moved into Cha Jung-ho’s apartment?”
“Either way, I have to wrap up both the engagement and the rumors myself.”
Truthfully, the best outcome would have been for the engagement to fall apart during the four years she was away. Given Jung-ho’s personality, it shouldn’t have been difficult. She had even drawn up her own plan. What she hadn’t expected was for him to endure all this time without ending things.
“And you believed him when he said he’d grant you a breakup but live together in the meantime?”
“He can’t exactly do anything to me right now.”
No—that wasn’t it. He didn’t even see her as a woman, so the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.
“But years have passed.”
“I know. At most, it’ll be a few months.”
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
Her words, evasive and missing a subject, must have been frustrating. Jung-min pressed her again.
“Think of it like a game.”
“…A game? What kind of game?”
His question hovered faintly in her ear through the speaker.
“A game where the first one to give up loses.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll win for sure.”
Tilting her head slightly, phone in hand, Ha-in’s lips curled upward into a loose smile.
“It’s better not to be too certain until you’ve gone through it.”
“At the very least, my chances of winning are far higher than his.”
Few people knew what Cha Jung-ho hated and liked as well as she did. That was the result of years of one-sided love.
By contrast, he didn’t know her nearly as well. Knowledge of someone depended on the weight of your interest in them.
The call with Jung-min dragged on longer than expected—not just because of the sudden cohabitation, but also because of the upcoming exhibition schedule.
“No need to change anything.”
“Will you be okay? It’s going to get hectic like this.”
“It’s just extra travel time. Nothing more.”
Though she brushed it off, Jung-min wasn’t entirely wrong. Living in the house she’d planned to use as a studio would’ve cut down commute time, allowing her to work overnight if needed. But commuting from Jung-ho’s apartment to the studio every day would make things much more exhausting as the exhibition drew near.
Still, this was a process she would have had to face sooner or later. She had returned not only for the exhibition but also for her family—and to finally resolve her engagement.
Just as she was deep in discussion with Jung-min, there was a knock at the door.
“Come out and eat.”
Jung-ho’s voice came from the other side, along with two short knocks. He must have prepared dinner while she was talking.
Ha-in blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to bother with a meal on the first night. She lingered a moment, staring at the closed door, then told Jung-min she’d call back later and ended the conversation.
Silence followed; he had left after that one line. It wasn’t like him to take care of others. At best, this was just him pretending, since it had been his idea in the first place.
Guessing his intentions, Ha-in finally stepped out of the unfamiliar bedroom.
Dinner turned out to be delivery: two simple rice bowls placed on the table. She sat down without comment, eyes briefly resting on the unadorned dishes.
“If I’d known you’d arrive today, I would’ve asked the housekeeper to prepare something.”
“What, did you expect me to be intimidated?”
She twirled the spoon lazily, lifting her chin with feigned indifference.
“…Maybe.”
“Well, if it were the old me…”
“The old you?”
“I probably really would have been intimidated.”
Jung-ho repeated her words quietly, and Ha-in gave a small smile before lowering her gaze to the rice bowl again.
“Ha-in, you…”
“I’m joking. Just eat.”
She cut him off deliberately, spooning rice into her mouth. His gaze brushed against her cheek, sharp enough to make her aware, but she ignored it.
“You’ve grown impudent since we last met.”
“Unfortunately, I’m already twenty-eight.”
“Doesn’t look any different to me.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
The exchange was light, almost meaningless. Four years without contact had left them with little to say. Their conversation fizzled quickly, leaving only silence between them as they ate.
By the time Jung-ho had nearly finished, Ha-in set her spoon down too, lifting her head again.
“You’re done eating?”
“Yeah. Do you have something to say?”
She nodded, sipped water to clear her mouth, then finally spoke. This was something that needed to be resolved before they truly began living together.
“I agreed to your demand. Now it’s my turn.”
“So you had conditions too?”
“Of course. Moving in like this puts me at a disadvantage, doesn’t it?”
They were still technically engaged, but the breakup was inevitable. Sharing a home meant she was the one at greater risk.
“Go on then. What’s your condition?”
“I just want to draw up a simple contract.”
It had been awkward to bring up earlier in the hallway, so she had waited until now. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the prepared document and placed it where he could see.
“So, a cohabitation contract?”
“Exactly. There’ll be rules to follow while we live together.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He stared at the document for a moment before snatching it up.
“It’s nothing big. Just a safeguard.”
“As if I’d devour you?”
He laughed under his breath, incredulous.
It really was just a simple agreement: a few extra clauses about boundaries and mutual respect during their time together.
“It’s not even a burden for you.”
“…True enough.”
His reluctant response didn’t faze her. Ha-in simply tapped the page with her finger.
“Let’s just say we’re setting some ground rules.”
“Ground rules written in a contract?”
“It’s not like it holds legal weight anyway.”
Muttering as though to herself, she set a pen down beside the paper, sliding it toward him.
“If you’ve finished reading, sign it.”
“…You—”
“Sign it.”
She cut him off again, dropping the pen squarely into his palm. He looked like he had plenty to say, but once more, she pretended not to notice.
