Chapter 22
“I Don’t Tell Lies.”
We sat at my desk, staring for a long while at a short line written in neat handwriting:
“I don’t tell lies.”
Of course, staring at it wouldn’t change what was written, but the uneasiness it left behind wouldn’t fade.
[You’ve been unreliable lately.]
[There’s nothing more important to a contract than trust.]
She explained herself, but my dry lips refused to move.
Yoon-jae had no way of knowing my circumstances, yet I still felt a dull ache in my chest.
“This isn’t a lie.”
How could saying that my soul had changed be a lie?
“I told you everything.”
It wasn’t my fault he didn’t believe me.
If I’d pushed harder, he would’ve thrown me into a mental hospital, so I’d kept my mouth shut.
Besides, there was no point in feeling guilty over a relationship that would end once the contract expired.
“One year will go by fast.”
We folded the sheet of paper—along with the discomfort in our hearts—and placed it on top of the locked diary, then shut it.
Click.
“Ughh…”
Once the source of my unease was out of sight, my stiff body loosened. I stretched and my stomach growled loudly.
“Isn’t your belly clock working too hard?”
The owner herself wasn’t working at all—just letting the days drift by.
Still, after all those years of struggling, maybe this kind of quiet break was exactly what I needed.
Time not spent doing something grand, but simply being still.
Go Woo-ri had always filled every spare minute doing something—anything.
Maybe I’ll grab some lunch.
If this kept up, the landlord might start calling me a freeloader soon.
Thinking about that very possible future, I stepped out of my room.
Mrs. Kim, who was busy scrubbing the floor with a rag, greeted me warmly.
“Mrs.—”
“What would you like to eat?”
“…How did you know?”
Just from seeing my face, Mrs. Kim had already guessed what I wanted.
A mix of embarrassment and surprise crossed my face, and she chuckled.
“You always come to the kitchen around this time. I’ve already got some stew simmering—just wait a moment.”
She didn’t seem to mind the sudden appearance of a freeloader. Smiling, she walked to the kitchen, and I trailed behind her like a little chick, sniffing at the air.
Trying to be helpful, I rolled up my sleeves and stood by the cutting board.
“If you’re chopping that celery, I can do it.”
“It’s fine, just sit down.”
“No, really. I learned how to use a knife last time.”
“I know you’re good at cooking, ma’am. You said you used to do a lot of part-time jobs—oh dear, listen to me bringing up the past again.”
Mrs. Kim clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d mentioned something personal.
But hearing an unexpected mention of Joo Ae-jung made me ask again,
“I… did?”
“Ah, when we first met. When you were moving your things in. That was months ago already.
Back then, I never imagined we’d be chatting like this. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
I shook my head at her awkward apology and bit my dry lower lip before speaking again.
“What was I like back then?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m just curious. Not your opinion—just… me.”
It wasn’t a question people usually asked, but after all my strange behavior lately, Mrs. Kim didn’t seem too surprised.
She set down her ladle, thought for a moment, and said gently,
“You looked like you were doing your best.”
“…Doing my best?”
“You weren’t used to this place, but you were trying to be.
You worked hard at everything—since it was all new to you.”
She’d only met me once back then, but she had clearly sensed that pitiful struggle.
“So when I see you now, I feel relieved. You seem so much better.”
It was meant as a compliment, yet it didn’t make me happy.
No—it couldn’t.
I smiled faintly.
“Please remember that.”
“Sorry? Remember what?”
“The me from back then. That Joo Ae-jung was probably much kinder than I am now.”
“Ma’am…?”
“So, what should I do first?”
Ending the conversation with words no one could quite understand, I quickly changed the subject. Thankfully, Mrs. Kim took it at face value.
“Then please taste the stew for me.”
“Tasting is my specialty.”
Better that than showing off my clumsy knife skills.
Feeling oddly cheerful, I lifted the lid off the simmering stew.
Hiss—
What greeted me was a puff of fragrant steam thick with delicious aroma.
“…”
My vision went white.
I couldn’t see a thing—just like my life.
The spoon in my hand lost its direction.
Crack.
A vein popped on my forehead.
“…”
When Yoon-jae returned from work, he was met by a firm expression.
Mrs. Kim must have gone home already, and from the doorway, my face looked far too serious.
He tilted his head.
“What game is this supposed to be?”
“Game? That’s rude.”
Frowning to show how serious I was, I spread my arms and declared:
“Let me have surgery.”
As usual, it was beyond his expectations. His headache worsened, but if he wanted to get past me, he’d have to respond somehow.
“Where?”
“My eyes.”
“You already have double eyelids.”
“Oh! Do I? I’ve never looked closely—no, that’s not it!”
Flustered, I yanked off my glasses.
“This. These. My eyeballs.”
I leaned in close, and my round eyes reflected clearly in his gaze.
He flinched.
With me suddenly so near, he instinctively turned his head away.
Ignoring that, I pointed at my eyes.
“I want to get LASIK. They say it only takes a day now—after the checkup—”
“No.”
The answer came before I could even finish.
“…Why not?”
It wasn’t about money; he could easily afford it.
I’d only asked out of courtesy, but his refusal left me blinking in confusion.
Her wide, startled eyes made his throat go dry.
He’d have to look at those eyes without glasses? Impossible.
He didn’t even know why—but it would be trouble.
Swallowing his unspoken reason, he brushed past me.
“Keep the glasses on.”
“H-huh? No! They’re so uncomfortable! Morning, night, washing my face—everything’s a pain!
Today, when I opened the stew lid, the steam fogged them up—”
“They suit you.”
“W-what?”
Foggy glasses suit me? What kind of nonsense was that?
Quickly putting them back on, I ran after him and blocked his path again.
“Basic human rights!”
“…”
“You haven’t forgotten, right?”
Behind those lenses, my eyes blazed with indignation—alive, expressive.
So full of emotion, unlike the old Joo Ae-jung who had none.
He raised a hand.
…Huh?
Before I could move, his fingertips brushed the frame of my glasses and slowly slid them down my nose.
“What are you—”
“Don’t move.”
As the glasses descended, my clear eyes met his.
Even through the slight blur, my glassy pupils gleamed like marbles.
His jaw tilted slightly upward.
These eyes are troublesome.
He didn’t know why, but every time—this feeling of discomfort was irritating.
Maybe… maybe the surgery would actually help.
Whether removing or inserting.
(He meant the eye surgery.)
The thought was slightly indecent, but of course I didn’t know that—I just looked at him with bright curiosity.
“…”
A tingling sensation.
Even though his hand hadn’t touched my skin, the gaze between us made something spark beneath my ribs.
A ticklish, electric heat spreading low in my belly.
What the hell…
Embarrassed for no reason, I was the one to avert my eyes first.
He withdrew his hand from my glasses and said quietly,
“Do it.”
Leaving only that short answer, he walked past me.
It took me a moment to process. Then I fixed my glasses and called after him.
“You’re agreeing? Should I make the appointment right now?”
“Hong will handle the reservation. Wait for confirmation.”
“R-really? Wow, thanks!”
Eyes gleaming, I grabbed my phone.
If he was helping, maybe he’d even pay for it.
He might cover the hospital bill, too…
Scheming happily, I tilted my head.
“But… why?”
Why was he helping me at all?
The innocent question seemed to irritate him. He turned coldly.
“If you don’t want to, forget it.”
“N-no! I just asked! You’re so touch—uh, I mean, I was just curious!”
As I babbled excuses, afraid he’d change his mind—
Bzzz—
“Huh?”
My phone buzzed in my hand.
At this late hour? I looked at the screen—then blinked in surprise.
From: CEO Seo Hye-won
Seeing the unexpected name, I shrugged.
“…It’s not a date invitation, is it?”
