Chapter 48

“Phew…”

He sighed as he slipped on his shoes, and even as he walked out onto the lawn, his mother followed him, nagging away.

“By the way, are you watching your health lately? Eating only chicken breast or something? You look like you’ve lost weight.”

He had occasionally followed a diet while preparing for projects, but lately, it felt more like a diet for survival.

He’d lost his appetite focusing solely on his work, and to stay alive, he had to eat something.

Even if Jeongyeon had let him go, he still had to survive.

Suddenly, flowers bloomed above, scattering petals down like rain. He grumbled, taking it out on the innocent flowers.

“Why are there so many flowers planted here? The hydrangeas and lilies are almost wilted. And what’s that tree?”

A bright cluster of blossoms at the tip of a branch caught his eye.

He’d seen that tree somewhere before.

“It’s a crape myrtle. The flower is called baekilhong.”

“Ah… baekilhong.”

“They bloom for about 100 days. That’s why it’s called baekilhong—‘hundred-day red.’ Its flower language is longing. And longing lasts a long time, doesn’t it? Hoho.”

His flower-loving mother explained as if she were reciting an encyclopedia and smiled gently.

He quietly looked up at the crimson buds. The clustered flowers looked endlessly pitiful.

“Longing, huh…”

He’d been desperately trying to forget, but now he remembered this very tree blooming along the walking path near Jeongyeon’s apartment.

Just like its name, it stayed in bloom for a long time. He had seen it there on the day he went to see her, months ago.

He didn’t want to recall her face. Would time truly erase feelings, like she had said?

The flowers still hadn’t wilted in his heart.

“By the way, haven’t seen Jeongyeon lately? Shouldn’t you be comforting her or something? Or are you too busy to meet up?”

Of all times, his mother asked this now—and he had only one response.

“I’m leaving.”

As he stepped through the front gate, his mother’s meddling followed behind him.

“That child looked really down lately. You should be a source of strength for her. Don’t you think?”

Her words stabbed him in the back like a thorn he couldn’t ignore.

“She’s down?”

“Yes, she used to be so bright, but now she seems out of it. She says she’s fine, but her wedding was called off just three days ago. Of course, she’s hurting.”

What was the reason? He didn’t want to believe it was because of the broken engagement. No—he refused to believe it was because of Go Dohun.

Jeongyeon had recognized him as a man—and for even a brief moment, had felt him as a man.

He hoped the agony she was suffering came from that realization. Selfish as it was.

A petal dropped on his head again.

The flower’s meaning was longing. Crimson baekilhong—its message lingered above him.

Six-year-old Lee Seonghun and Kang Jeongyeon stood side by side, holding hands.

She wore a red dress and stood slightly taller than him.

Seonghun squinted in the sunlight, pouting as he clutched her hand tightly—afraid she might run away.

“I’m going to marry Jeongyeon.”

Her aunt, sitting beside them looking through an album, playfully dubbed the photo aloud.

She mimicked the voice of the pretty boy in the picture, who wore that sulky expression.

“That was your catchphrase back then. Remember? Jeongyeon, you had gone off to play with other kids, and Seonghun got all pouty. When someone said to hold hands for the picture, he clung to you and refused to let go. So cute, right?”

“Yes.”

Yeah. You were really cute back then. So how did you grow up to be this sharp, confident man who turns people’s hearts upside down?

“Cute…”

“You two haven’t met up much lately, right? I told Seonghun to cheer you on a little. Aren’t you working on the same project soon? You’ll see each other more then?”

“No, it’ll still take a bit before I’m on site.”

“Oh, that’s why he’s been quiet. I asked him to cheer you up, but he seemed indifferent.”

Indifferent. She hadn’t realized until now how painful that word could be.

If he had gotten angry or irritated, she might’ve been able to guess his feelings.

But “indifferent” was almost like being unbothered. Did that mean he’d already given up? Why did that make her feel so restless?

Wouldn’t it be a good thing if he had let go?

“What is there to cheer up? I’ve been flying high these days—everything’s going so well!”

“Oh please, you look miserable. I’ve watched you for 29 years, since the day you were born. Think I can’t read your face? You’re still hurt from the broken engagement, aren’t you?”

Right. Her aunt had seen her from birth. If she crossed the line with Seonghun, her son, things would get way too complicated.

“Auntie, seriously, seriously—I’m fine. Stop worrying about nothing. I’m not just surviving, I’m thriving.”

Just then, her mother came out of the bathroom, caught her daughter’s troubled look, and scolded the aunt.

“You were saying some tactless stuff again, weren’t you?”

“I’m not that clueless, you know. I do have awareness, thanks to Seonghun’s dad. I saw the cloud on Jeongyeon’s face—that’s why I’m cheering her up.”

“Then why cheer her up cluelessly? The kid’s doing fine.”

“Fine? As a mother, you don’t care nearly enough. She still hasn’t gotten over that guy, has she?”

Go Dohun’s name was about to come up—and her mother quickly changed the topic.

The broken engagement had become a taboo in this household.

“Why don’t you focus on your son instead? Didn’t he argue with Seonghun’s dad again? What happened this time?”

Her carefree aunt immediately started recounting what had happened that morning in full detail.

“So, apparently the Minister of Justice’s second daughter is a huge fan of Seonghun. She reached out to his dad asking if they could arrange a dinner meeting. Turns out she was one of the girls Mr. Shin sent over in that profile batch—you know, the one his dad tried to push as a blind date.”

Poor Seonghun—how tiring it must be to have parents disguising matchmaking as business meetings.

“Of course I knew Seonghun would never go for it. But this time the minister himself asked for it, directly. What a doting dad. All he wants is for them to have a meal together.”

“……!”

“The law firm would welcome it. It’d give us leverage. But would Seonghun go? With that stubborn personality just like his dad?”

And yet… what if he does go? What if he does meet another girl? What if they start liking each other?

Would we go back to being “just friends”?

What would happen to my heart?

Her mother felt sorry for Seonghun’s situation.

“That man… he’s so harsh. Can’t even encourage the kid for building a strong career. Why’s he always trying to control him?”

But unlike the aunt, her mother couldn’t easily agree. She still saw Seonghun as someone close, like a son.

“He could just think of it like a fan meeting. One meal and done.”

“Purely? Do you think the people pushing for this are thinking pure thoughts? Of course not. Imagine how uncomfortable it must be for Seonghun. You always get crushed by his dad—try defending the kid once in a while.”

Her innocent aunt often got scolded by her mom.

But she knew those scoldings came from love—so she accepted them kindly.

Still, her expression now wasn’t entirely cheerful. It carried the weight of guilt—perhaps wondering if this family discord stemmed from her.

Trying to lighten the mood, she changed the subject with a strained chuckle.

“Oh right, I think I’ll see Seonghun soon. He’s coming over for a costume fitting. Maybe then we can cheer each other up. Haha.”

She wanted to lift the gloom from her aunt’s face, even just a little.