Chapter 6
Eunbin’s face flushed vividly.
To casually bring up the events of that night—right there, in the very place where her brother had just been—was almost unbearable.
Choking back her words, she reached out cautiously.
“…The earrings. Please. I came to get them.”
Instead of handing them over immediately, Jihyuk paused, his hand tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket.
Then, as if something about the request displeased him, he narrowed his eyes and asked,
“So it’s important? Important enough to risk running over here?”
“…It’s… my most cherished possession.”
“Did you buy it yourself?”
“Yes. It’s just… something I wear often…”
Eunbin hesitated, stumbling over her words. Observing Jihyuk’s expression made her tongue tie itself in knots. But this was the very item she had purchased with trembling hands at the department store, commemorating her first paycheck as a fresh employee.
Its simple design matched any outfit, and she wore it year-round as if it were part of her body—a truly beloved possession.
But Jihyuk’s thoughts seemed elsewhere. His brow furrowed ever so slightly.
“Not something he gave you?”
“Excuse me?”
Eunbin’s eyes widened at the blunt question. Jihyuk clearly assumed she was clinging to the item out of lingering feelings for her ex.
Before she could protest, he cut her off coldly.
“Joo Eunbin. Don’t make me jealous.”
“O-oppa, it’s not like that…”
“Even if it’s not, I’m not giving it to you here.”
Jihyuk withdrew his hand from his pocket. Empty. He placed his empty hand on the table, driving his point home.
“If Woojin sees it, he’ll find out. And if I say, ‘This was under my bed,’ do you think your obsessive brother will just let it slide?”
“…!”
The scenario was terrifying.
Though Jihyuk and Woojin had been best friends for ten years, Eunbin was more precious to Woojin than his own life. His overprotectiveness bordered on pathological.
If he found out… the table would likely be overturned, and Jihyuk’s collar grabbed in an instant. Perhaps, shock might even make him collapse.
“That… what happened that night… oppa must not know,” Eunbin said, ashen-faced.
He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers.
“Is it just that your brother must not know?”
“…What?”
“Or do you want to act like that night never happened?”
“That’s…”
Her eyes wavered, unable to answer. Perhaps he saw it as her trying to dismiss that night as a mere mistake.
Jihyuk’s usually gentle smile twisted subtly.
“Joo Eunbin, I’m not like that.”
“…What?”
“I’m saying I’m not going to pretend it never happened.”
He leaned forward, locking eyes with her.
“So make a choice.”
“….”
“You either explain to your brother here, or have lunch with me tomorrow.”
Jihyuk gestured toward the lounge entrance. Woojin was approaching after finishing a call. The silent pressure made it clear: she needed to choose quickly.
Eunbin scrambled for an excuse.
“Tomorrow’s a weekday… I have to go to work. Lunch breaks are short, so I can’t go far…”
A predictable excuse. Jihyuk let out a soft, deflating laugh.
“Then I’ll come to you.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I’ll come. To your office.”
He’s coming to her office? Eunbin’s eyes widened. Was he suggesting they eat near her workplace?
She opened her mouth to refuse, but Jihyuk’s usually soft gaze had turned unusually serious.
“If you don’t want to, say it now. Choose. Explain to me here, or eat with me tomorrow?”
It was coercion—but less like pressure, more like a calm trap cornering a fleeing rabbit.
Woojin was closing in.
Faced with the imminent crisis, Eunbin went pale and hurriedly nodded. A complete surrender.
“Sorry, sorry. It was an urgent work call; I couldn’t ignore it.”
Woojin returned to the table, gauging the tense atmosphere.
“What were you talking about? The mood’s so serious.”
Jihyuk leaned back casually, lifting his wine glass.
“Nothing. Just giving a compliment.”
“A compliment?”
He proposed a toast and looked at Eunbin. His eyes glimmered with satisfaction.
“You’ve raised your sister well. She’s obedient, listens to her brother.”
Clink. The crystal-clear sound of the glasses striking each other seemed different to Eunbin. It felt as though it said: there’s nowhere to run.
That evening, in Jihyuk’s study.
Despite the late hour, the desk was bathed in soft light, piled with documents awaiting Jihyuk’s approval.
One document held his gaze longer than the rest.
Finally, he sank into his chair, holding it.
“Joo Eunbin…”
It was the same name written on the form he held:
[Dream Food – Assistant Manager Joo Eunbin]
The name, the face that had haunted him all weekend, floated before his eyes.
Jihyuk closed them slowly, and memories surfaced naturally. Three years ago, in the United States.
—Hey, you’re almost thirty. How long are you going to stay single?
It was during a call with Woojin. Though in the U.S., they often checked in on each other. Woojin mostly spoke, Jihyuk listened. That day, he read a document with his eyes while responding.
—When you come back to Korea, should I set you up on a blind date? Our company has lots of pretty juniors.
“I said I’m busy.”
Not empty words.
Though he had been designated heir, he had to maintain a firm position among cutthroat relatives. And YN was a strictly strategic corporation; Jihyuk judged personal feelings or romance unnecessary and only a potential weakness.
—What do you mean busy all the time? You should rest sometimes.
Then Woojin suddenly remembered something.
—Ah, right! Could you get some ski resort passes for your company? It’s peak season; hard to reserve anywhere.
“Ski?”
—Eunbin’s company is doing a workshop at a ski resort, and she wants to learn before going. She’d be upset if she couldn’t ski alone. Can you pretend not to know, as her brother?
Woojin’s devotion to his sister hadn’t changed.
Previously, he was scolded for being overly protective of her—yet he seemed unaware of the seriousness. Or perhaps aware and unwilling to change. Well, it wasn’t Jihyuk’s business.
—Can you get them?
“Sure. I’ll check.”
Not difficult, he answered casually. Days later, a message came.
[Went to the ski resort with Eunbin. Thanks!]
Jihyuk’s finger froze on the screen.
The photo showed a woman laughing brightly with Woojin on a snow-covered slope.
For a moment, he didn’t recognize her. His memory of Eunbin was a delicate, childlike impression.
But in the photo, she was no longer a child.
Flushed cheeks, a smile brighter than the snow itself.
A peculiar flutter tickled his heart, for reasons he couldn’t understand.
From that day on, her face began appearing unbidden in his mind.
He occasionally wanted to ask after her during calls with Woojin but refrained. Being a friend’s sister was more complicated than he wanted. Better not to create awkward situations, he thought, so he consciously tried to erase the thoughts.
Yet they never vanished entirely.
“So, Eunbin… I told you to stop. Do we really need to see this through?”
And at an unexpected moment, they met again.
He was heading home after work. The moment he heard the name Eunbin, his feet were already moving toward her.
Jihyuk didn’t usually interfere in other people’s affairs, especially private matters like lovers’ quarrels.
But that time was different.
Seeing Eunbin humiliated, he couldn’t stay still. Yes, it was justified because Woojin was her brother—but not solely for that reason.
—Where did this mutt think he was barking?
The filthy words directed at her. Ridiculous claims about her worth as a woman. Seeing her bow her head, restraining tears, he moved instinctively.
And that night, when they were left alone in a room, he knew:
Eunbin was not fully herself. She had been drinking and shocked. That was why he was even more cautious.
“You’re still a kid, in my eyes.”
That’s why he treated her like a child.
It was a statement to himself, and at the same time, a desire to protect her.
But she seemed unwilling to accept help.
“Oppa, aren’t you okay with this?”
The bold question she dared to ask…
