Chapter 11
We weren’t exactly Cinderella, but we did have to tiptoe around our stepmother and stepsiblings.
It wasn’t like they openly smacked us around or ignored us completely, but the pettiness and constant annoyance were real. Sometimes I’d wondered why they treated us so coldly, and now, in this situation, I think I’m starting to understand.
‘Am I just the kind of woman that stepmothers hate?’
My own stepmother, Ha Yunjae’s stepmother, and even these women—it was all the same.
Maybe I was just unlucky, but either way, it didn’t feel good. Curling my lips in a bitter half-smile, I took a step forward.
“Why should I—”
Tap.
Before I could cause a scene, a hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me. Someone stepped ahead of me, faster than that woman, and went to confront the others. It was the section chief’s wife, who had been quietly cleaning up food waste in the corner.
“Ladies, we’re right in the middle of the event right now, so it’s a little busy. Could you come back later?”
She was at least in her early to mid-fifties.
The seated women were, at best, in their late forties, and some looked even younger.
But still, compared to the section chief’s wife, they were obviously younger. They didn’t bother standing, only tilting their heads slightly.
“Oh my, Mrs. Kang, you’re here again this time.”
“…Yes, well.”
“How admirable. But really, how long do you plan on doing this? At your age, if you keep straining yourself like this, it’ll ruin your health. You’re not even a kindergarten director, you know.”
Their laughter rang out like schoolgirls.
The unpleasant sound made others glance nervously, but the woman who was being mocked didn’t show much reaction as she calmly replied.
“I’m used to it. And besides, I enjoy it.”
“Really? Well, it’s no use wishing for the impossible, I suppose. Still, don’t stay too long. At this rate, you’ll be here until all the preschoolers graduate.”
Laughter erupted again.
Behind that laughter, I caught the hushed whispers.
“I heard her husband got promoted to executive director last year. Guess they backed the right horse.”
“Even so, how can someone change that much overnight?”
“That’s people for you. Still, better than being stuck as a section chief forever.”
I didn’t know the full story, but I could tell the relationship between them was nastier than it looked.
Oblivious to the whispers, the section chief’s wife continued gracefully.
“Anyway, I’m sorry. It’s quiet here, but outside it’s so crowded, it really wears you out.”
To call this booth quiet—the one where all the grunt work was dumped under the excuse of “serving meals”—was enough to bruise anyone’s pride.
“And it’s fine if we rest a little here, isn’t it?”
As if she wasn’t already pitiful enough.
Anyone could see they had come here deliberately to stir things up, flexing their so-called class. Pretending at aristocracy—it wasn’t even original.
‘Ridiculous, really.’
Doing dishes sounded a hundred times more meaningful than enduring this nonsense.
As I sneered at their pathetic act of pretending their husbands’ positions were their own, unfortunately, one of the sharp-eyed women caught my expression.
“Oh my, did you just smile?”
How could someone look so venomous while smiling so prettily?
“What’s your name? Where are you from?”
Under her leisurely gaze, I answered.
“Yeongdo.”
“Yeongdo Group? Which department? Whose wife? Where does your husband work?”
Her interrogation began, and instantly the air froze over.
Sensing the tension, the section chief’s wife stepped in, blocking her gaze from me.
“Let’s not push it, ma’am. She’s new here.”
“What does that matter?”
Switching to casual speech, the woman crossed her arms and told the one beside her:
“Bring me the guestbook.”
Her attitude was no different from royalty, and the other woman ran off at once.
I barely managed to suppress a laugh at the absurdity. Soon, the guestbook arrived.
The woman flipped through it slowly, page by page.
“These are all familiar names… yes, this one too… Hmm, what’s this? What did they even write here? Cho… or is that Oh? What letter do you think this is?”
“Oh, the handwriting’s just awful.”
‘Wait.’
As she rattled through the names, my hand froze, rubber gloves stretched taut, and the blood drained from my face.
When they asked me to sign my name, I had written it without thinking. The problem was—
‘…I wrote “Go Woori.”’
The realization hit me like a blow. My real name, written down for anyone to see. And just as I panicked, someone clapped their hands in sudden recognition.
Clap!
“Oh, it’s ‘Go,’ isn’t it? Go. So this must be Go Woo—”
“I’ll go buy it right now, ma’am.”
“Oh my god!”
Like I’d performed magic, I hurriedly appeared before them, bowing low with both hands together.
“I’m sorry. It’s my first time, so I wasn’t familiar with the customs. Should I go buy five lattes?”
The humility in my voice startled the women enough that they stammered out their orders.
“I’ll have a mocha.”
“I want an Americano.”
Unbelievable.
Before my temper could explode, the woman held out her card.
“You heard. Three lattes, a mocha, and an Americano. Here’s the card.”
How generous of her, to at least pay. Accepting it politely, I also slipped the guestbook away.
“I’ll return this as well.”
Smiling sweetly, I tucked the guestbook to my chest and quickly slipped out of the crowd.
Around the corner, out of sight, I flipped it open.
“That was close.”
There it was: Go Woori, written in bold strokes. If anyone saw that, it would cause unnecessary trouble.
‘If they find out Joo Aejeong—who married Ha Yunjae—is attending Yeongdo Group’s event under the name of her dead ex-fiancée, Go Woori?’
What kind of lunatic would that make me?
I drew a line straight through my name.
“Hey.”
“Ahhh!”
I barely managed a few strokes before a sudden voice startled me into a scream.
It was only the section chief’s wife, who had also jumped in surprise, clutching her chest.
“Sorry! But why are you so jumpy? I nearly dropped my baby.”
“Right, sometimes it feels like there really is something to jump at.”
“Hm?”
“Oh, nothing. Did you need something?”
She gave me a quiet look before speaking gently.
“It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to tell you something.”
“Yes, please go ahead.”
Something about her made me want to listen, so I waited. After a pause, she said:
“Don’t sacrifice yourself too much for your husband.”
“….”
“He’s him, and you’re you. You don’t need to break yourself down to support him. So don’t shrink away. Hold your head high.”
Pat, pat.
She patted my shoulder with a faint smile.
“You’re still young, even without your husband.”
It wasn’t a long speech, but it carried weight.
Seventeen years working here with the food stand—she must have lived by those words. You could sense her character without needing to know more.
And her comfort wasn’t just for me.
‘You’re still young.’
It felt like words meant for someone who had already faced death and lived again. That I still had time, that I could still live fully.
‘I am me.’
Not Ha Yunjae’s wife. Not Joo Aejeong. Not even Go Woori.
I am just me.
After putting the guestbook back and buying the coffees, I returned with both hands full.
“Hm, hmhm.”
I couldn’t help but hum happily.
Some of the heaviness in my chest had softened, thanks to her words. A little coffee errand like this was nothing compared to the unexpected comfort I’d received.
The event looked much grander than I had expected. Not aesthetically stunning, but impressive enough for its scale.
As I rounded the corner back to the food stall, I stopped short.
‘What the—?’
The booth was completely swarmed with people.
It wasn’t even that large a space, and the big cooking equipment made it even more cramped, packed like a clogged drain.
I squeezed my way forward nervously, balancing the drinks.
“Excuse me, just let me through for a—ah!”
If my hands had been free, I could’ve pushed through, but with coffee in both hands, I couldn’t risk spilling on someone.
“I work here, sort of—well, not exactly, but I need to get through. Hello? Can you—”
Even standing on tiptoe, it was useless.
They didn’t move, and instead someone’s backward step knocked me off balance.
Thud!
“Whoa, whoa!”
The jolt shook my hands, and the coffee lids popped off, spilling hot liquid onto my skin.
“Ah, hot!”
The burning shock made me cry out, loud enough that the chatter died for a moment. The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
But the one walking through wasn’t Moses.
Step, step.
With long strides, someone rushed straight toward me, seizing my wet hands.
With fierce eyes, he said:
“I told you.”
“….”
“Not to get hurt.”
