Chapter 30 ….
I ended up having breakfast with Baek Seongwon and Min Yuyeong, the couple.
The reason a lunch appointment had suddenly been changed to breakfast was because an urgent schedule had come up that required the Baek Seongwon–Min Yuyeong couple to hurry back to Seoul.
“Sorry, Juyeong. We changed the time so suddenly—did it catch you off guard?”
“It’s fine, ma’am.”
“Thank you for understanding. Next time, let’s go somewhere even better. I’ll treat you.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Juyeong replied with a smile, but in truth, Min Yuyeong’s kindness felt burdensome.
She had never really received this kind of kindness in her life, so it was only natural that she didn’t know how to respond.
Seongwon, who had been quietly watching Juyeong, handed his empty cup to Seonghun.
“One hot Americano, please.”
“Why don’t you ask one of the staff instead of me?”
“The coffee my son makes tastes better.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me? So you can talk privately?”
“If you know, then hurry up and go.”
In the end, Seongwon firmly pressed the empty cup into Seonghun’s hand.
“Hah…” Seonghun let out a long sigh and looked at Juyeong. His eyes silently asked whether she’d be okay alone.
Juyeong deliberately curled up the corners of her lips and nodded.
“I’ll be right back.”
Eventually, Seonghun left his seat.
And as if he’d been waiting for this moment, Seongwon opened his mouth right away.
“CEO Choi Juyeong. There’s something I’d like to ask—may I?”
His voice carried weight.
Yesterday, when they talked about art, he hadn’t sounded like this. It had been quiet, but not heavy.
Which meant that this moment was not a private one, but a formal one.
Baek Seongwon was now speaking to Juyeong as the Chairman of Seongun Group, and as Baek Seonghun’s father.
Juyeong put down her fork and straightened her posture.
“You may ask anything, Chairman.”
“Since you say that, I will ask…”
Gulp. Juyeong swallowed.
“What do you like?”
“…Pardon?”
Despite his serious tone, the question itself was unexpected.
What did she like?
Unable to grasp the intent behind the question, Juyeong only blinked.
“What do you like to do to relax? Golf? Movies? Or do you like reading books?”
“Ah…”
Chairman Baek’s question didn’t need to be overthought. He really was just asking what she liked.
Juyeong thought carefully.
What do I like?
What did I usually do to rest?
As her silence stretched on, Seongwon briefly glanced at Yuyeong, then fixed his gaze back on Juyeong.
“It must have been a difficult question, judging by how long you’re thinking.”
“…I’m sorry, Chairman. The truth is, I’m a boring person. I don’t really have anything I particularly like.”
At that, Seongwon formed a meaningful smile, while Yuyeong, sitting beside Juyeong, gently covered Juyeong’s hand with her own.
Min Yuyeong and Baek Seongwon knew Juyeong’s family history well.
Anyone in their world would. It had been a notorious farce.
This wasn’t to call Juyeong’s mother, Ryu Sihyeon’s suicide a farce. How desperate must she have been to make such a choice, leaving behind her young daughter?
The true protagonist of that farce was Choi Gwon-yong.
The wounds he left behind—abandoning his young daughter and beautiful wife for fleeting pleasure—were impossible to even imagine.
They would be scars that could never be erased.
Wounds left by one’s closest family are the kind that are never forgotten, never healed.
“I can see why Seonghun is with you.”
“Our son is exactly the same as you, Juyeong. No hobbies, doesn’t know how to rest. Living his one and only life in such a dull way.”
Yuyeong gently patted Juyeong’s hand.
“Juyeong.”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
“The past never comes back. We don’t know what the future holds. Life is such that even dying tomorrow wouldn’t be strange, so we don’t even know how much future we truly have.”
Yuyeong continued softly patting Juyeong’s hand.
“So try to live joyfully. If you spend everything just gritting your teeth until the end, it feels unfair, doesn’t it? It’s your one and only life.”
Suddenly, a long-forgotten sensation surfaced.
After running around the beach until she was drenched in sweat, she would collapse, exhausted, with her head on her mother’s lap. Her mother would brush away the strands of hair stuck to her forehead.
Mom…
Mom…
“You understand what I mean, right?”
“…Yes. I understand, ma’am.”
Juyeong bit the soft flesh inside her lip. Even so, she put on a bright, performative smile.
Just then, Seonghun returned.
He set down a steaming cup in front of Seongwon.
“Here’s what you asked for.”
“Thanks, Seonghun. Hot Americano made by my son is the best.”
“Where on earth did you learn expressions like that?”
“What? Got a problem? You have to use young people’s expressions to stay young. Just wait till you’re my age.”
“Honey. Seonghun. Please stop fighting. What do you think you’re doing in front of Juyeong?”
Seongwon and Seonghun bickered back and forth.
Yuyeong’s hand, still holding Juyeong’s, was warm.
Beyond the window, the clear blue sea of Jeju stretched endlessly.
A sight she’d never even seen in her dreams.
A moment that felt like something straight out of a drama.
Everything was so peaceful and ordinary that it made her want to cry.
The plane landed at Incheon Airport.
Originally, Secretary Shin was supposed to pick her up, but Seonghun insisted on driving her home.
They had already spent one night and two days together—long enough—so she refused at first, wondering why he’d go as far as driving her home.
But then—
“We need to start talking about marriage now, don’t we? Let’s talk on the way.”
At the word marriage, Juyeong obediently got into Seonghun’s car.
Thirty minutes had already passed since they left the airport and got onto the road. Juyeong quietly stared out the window.
Seonghun glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“You’ve been quiet since yesterday.”
“I’m tired. Aren’t you the same, Mr. Baek Seonghun?”
“I am tired.”
“Then let’s just go quietly. We can talk about marriage once we get to my place. It’s not too late.”
Throughout the conversation, Juyeong never looked at him even once. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes.
A clear signal: don’t talk to me anymore.
“…All right, then.”
Seonghun watched her silently for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the road.
The car stopped.
Though her eyes had been closed, she apparently hadn’t been asleep—Juyeong opened them as soon as they arrived.
She looked around, then clicked her seatbelt off.
“Thank you. I came comfortably thanks to you.”
“No problem.”
Seonghun also unbuckled his seatbelt with a small nod.
“So what did you want to say about marriage? We still haven’t even gone on ten dates yet.”
“According to the contract, yes. But lately we’ve been seen together quite often. At this point, isn’t it the right timing to start talking about marriage?”
“…True. Attending important events together as partners means the relationship is serious enough. It wouldn’t seem strange for marriage to come up.”
Especially since they had greeted each other’s parents at an official event—it could practically count as a preliminary meeting between families.
“The wedding will be three months from today.”
Seonghun stated the date precisely.
“What do you think?”
“Considering venue reservations, the dress, and the photoshoot… it’ll be pretty busy.”
“Then should we push it back?”
“No. Since we’ve decided to do it anyway, it’s better to get it over with quickly. There’s nothing money can’t solve at this scale, right?”
“I’ll take care of trivial things like the venue and invitations. Just make sure to choose your wedding dress well, Choi Juyeong.”
Since when had the venue and invitations become trivial things? Weren’t those usually the most troublesome parts?
Still, since he was offering to handle it himself, there was no reason to stop him—even if it was a bit unexpected.
Just as Juyeong was about to say okay, Seonghun cut in first.
“Instead, the next time we meet—”
He reached out and gently pressed his thumb against Juyeong’s lips.
Before she realized it, Juyeong had held her breath.
His thumb slid sideways as if wiping her lips, smearing the glossy lip gloss along with it.
“Keep your eyes open. Don’t act like a rain-soaked kitten.”
Seonghun withdrew his hand from her lips, then used the same thumb to swipe across his own.
The lip gloss transferred directly onto his mouth.
The glossy pink sheen sat carelessly on his lips—like that night he’d barged into her home to provoke her, like after they’d blatantly mixed their lips together.
“This isn’t like you.”
They didn’t kiss today.
Yet even so, the sight of Baek Seonghun with lip gloss smudged beyond his lips was suffocatingly erotic.
