Chapter 10
That afternoon, inside Ji-hyuk’s office.
Eun-bin placed the file on the desk with both hands, bowing slightly.
“This is the report you requested.”
Ji-hyuk propped his chin on his hand and silently opened the file.
In the spacious office, the only sounds were the occasional scratch of a fountain pen on paper and the soft flipping of pages.
The silence was so absolute that even breathing seemed intrusive.
Eun-bin stood rigidly in front of the desk, waiting for his judgment.
But as time dragged on, the dryness in her chest became unbearable.
Every time Ji-hyuk’s gaze lingered on the documents, every time his brows furrowed, her heart sank.
Was it not satisfactory? Would he ask her to redo it?
Endless worries spiraled in her mind.
Thirsty…
Her mouth had gone completely dry from the tension.
Habitually, Eun-bin chewed on her lower lip. The cracked, chapped edges stung from the pressure.
She wanted to swallow, but even the sound of that might be noticed, so she forced herself to endure it.
Then came the sound of a chair sliding.
Ji-hyuk had closed the report and stood up.
Eun-bin flinched and drew her shoulders in.
Without a word, Ji-hyuk walked toward the minibar at the side of the office.
Eun-bin glanced sideways, trying to follow his movements.
With the faint click of the fridge door shutting, he approached her.
Startled, Eun-bin didn’t know where to look and hastily stared straight ahead into the empty air.
At the same time, a large shadow fell over her.
Thud.
Something landed on the desk in front of her.
Eun-bin jumped and lifted her head.
“Drink this first.”
A heavy glass bottle with the YN Hotel logo. It was a premium fresh strawberry latte sold at the hotel.
Ji-hyuk perched on the edge of the desk, his gaze fixed on her lips.
“If you keep at it, you’ll hurt your lips.”
“Ah…”
“It’s painful. Just looking at it makes me ache.”
At his low, resonant voice, Eun-bin released her bitten lip and, almost mesmerized, took hold of the bottle.
The cool touch of the glass in her hand, the pink liquid swaying gently inside—
For a moment, her vision blurred, and memories from ten years ago resurfaced.
That winter, at seventeen, had been unusually bitter.
Her parents’ divorce proceedings were at their peak, leaving the household in a tense, frozen state that could shatter at any moment.
And her only pillar of support, her brother Woo-jin, had gone abroad on an exchange program.
Whenever Woo-jin called, she forced a bright tone, saying she was fine, but once the call ended, she would bury her face in her pillow and sob uncontrollably.
She had to pretend to be okay, fearing she might hold him back.
But honestly, nothing was okay.
That day had been no different.
Fleeing the chilling emptiness of her home, she ended up at the apartment playground.
Eun-bin had crouched on a rusty swing, head hung low.
She truly felt left alone in the world.
“…Ju Eun-bin?”
A low voice fell from above.
When she lifted her head, Ji-hyuk was standing there.
On a winter night that made her breath visible in the air, he looked down at her, hands tucked into the pockets of his black padded jacket.
Even seeing Eun-bin staring up at him with swollen eyes, he didn’t flinch or ask why she was crying.
He simply sat on the swing beside her, silently waiting for her to calm down.
As her sobs began to subside, a rustling sound emerged.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something, handing it to her.
A pack of strawberry milk from a convenience store, complete with a straw.
“Drink it. This is your favorite, right?”
“How did you…?”
“Woo-jin told me. He said to buy it for you.”
Eun-bin stared at Ji-hyuk in a daze, then took the milk. Ah, that’s why—her brother had asked him…
As she brought the straw to her lips, the sweet liquid filled her mouth.
Her throat, previously blocked by tears, finally seemed to ease a little.
“…But didn’t you say you were going abroad?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really have to go?”
“It’s something the family wants. I think, from experience, it won’t hurt to go.”
His indifferent tone made Eun-bin’s chest ache. She idly kicked at the dirt on the ground.
“Why did you come if you’re busy?”
“Who knows.”
Ji-hyuk smirked and roughly ruffled her hair.
“Woo-jin’s just an excuse. I felt sorry seeing you cry.”
“…”
“They say sweets make you feel a bit better.”
It was simple comfort.
Not overly affectionate, yet not cold—just the maximum consideration a close friend could give his friend’s younger sister.
Eun-bin stared at him, sipping through the straw.
Did Ji-hyuk know that his casual warmth had given her the strength to endure that harsh seventeen-year-old winter?
Her hair, touched by his hand in the icy wind, felt warm.
In that moment, she realized: I like him.
And at the same time, she accepted it. To Ji-hyuk, she was nothing more than a friend’s younger sister to look after.
A faint, first love that had begun and ended in an instant.
“Ju Eun-bin?”
Ji-hyuk’s voice pulled her back to the present.
Before her stood not the fresh-faced college senior of her memory, but a man with rolled-up sleeves exuding a mature allure.
Ten years had passed, yet his gaze still unsettled her heart as effortlessly as before.
Eun-bin gripped the latte bottle tightly, suppressing the surge of emotion.
“…You remembered this?”
Ji-hyuk studied her wavering eyes quietly.
Eun-bin couldn’t read the depth behind those dark eyes.
Finally, he gave a soft smile and replied,
“How could I forget? That face that looked like it’d burst into tears at the slightest touch—it hasn’t changed.”
Ji-hyuk reached out.
Instead of ruffling her hair as he had in the past, his thumb lightly brushed the reddened edge of her lips.
The touch, gentle yet scorching, made Eun-bin hold her breath.
“The only difference now,” he said, tilting the luxurious latte bottle with a casual smile,
“I can buy something better than convenience store milk.”
His gaze was far deeper and richer than it had been ten years ago.
Too intense to be mere kindness.
Eun-bin’s heart began to race uncontrollably.
“So relax and drink. No more crying.”
Ji-hyuk leaned closer, their eyes locking, his breath brushing her.
“If you cry, I can’t work.”
Her heart thudded violently, sinking to the pit of her stomach.
Unable to withstand his piercing gaze any longer, she hid her burning face in both hands.
“Ah, I-I won’t cry…”
Thump, thump, thump.
Her heart pounded so loudly it seemed to echo in her ears.
Something must be broken inside her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so helplessly shaken by him after ten years.
Four days into the secondment.
Eun-bin’s gaze was fixed on the monitor.
It displayed ten years of sales data and recipe histories.
The volume was massive, but it was essential knowledge before heading into the field.
“Memorize everything perfectly before going to the site. Otherwise, you’ll be disregarded.”
Ji-hyuk’s advice made sense.
Eun-bin twisted her stiff neck, meticulously cross-checking the numbers in the Excel sheets.
For the success of the project, she couldn’t afford any mistakes.
Click. The mahogany door, tightly closed until now, swung open.
“Assistant Manager Ju, come in for a moment.”
He could have used the intercom, but Ji-hyuk appeared in person.
It was already the fifth time he’d summoned her that morning.
Eun-bin let out a small sigh at being interrupted, but quickly composed herself and stood.
“Yes, Director.”
Entering the office, she found Ji-hyuk seated on the sofa, flipping through documents.
He gestured for her to sit.
“Have you found an issue with the documents you submitted?”
“No. The documents are perfect.”
Ji-hyuk set them on the table and fixed his gaze on her.
“I called you to relax your brows. Your concentration outside must be intense.”
“…I was focused.”
“Don’t overdo it. If you collapse, I’ll be the one your brother blames.”
Though spoken lightly, his eyes carried more concern than jest.
He slid a glass of ice water across the table within her reach.
“Drink something. Your lips are all chapped. Have I given you too much work?”
“It’s nothing like that.”
Too kind for a superior’s admonition, too formal for a brotherly concern—this space was strictly professional.
Eun-bin, with a strange feeling, hastily lifted the cup to her lips.
As she hurriedly swallowed, Ji-hyuk’s hand suddenly, yet gently, reached out.
“…!”
He slowly tucked the stray hair from her cheek behind her ear.
Like handling a delicate glass doll, his touch was careful and precise.
“Drink slowly. No one’s chasing you.”
The warmth of his fingertips brushing her ear was so tender that Eun-bin momentarily held her breath.
