Chapter 42
“Welcome back.”
At home, it was Mrs. Kim, who had come in especially for us, who greeted Yunjae and me.
“Mrs. Kim.”
Drawn in by her warm welcome, we instinctively clung to her, our eyes still sensitive from the light.
“I missed you.”
“Huh? Missed me?”
We nuzzled against her.
“This warm and cozy embrace… not like someone cold and strict, like the Siberian tundra, or sharp and prickly.”
Even behind the dark tint of sunglasses, our direction toward Mrs. Kim was precise.
Hearing our bold, direct words, she glanced at Yunjae and awkwardly embraced her.
“Oh my, you must’ve been in quite a lot of pain. How did the surgery go? Are you okay?”
“Well… I’m not sure. It sort of hurts, but it sort of doesn’t. They said it will feel better after today. And I’m supposed to wear the sunglasses for a week. Just when I finally took off my glasses, they tell me to wear different ones.”
Chattering on.
Though it was a relatively simple surgery, enough to resume daily life in a day, the day hadn’t passed yet.
“It’s strangely sore and throbbing.”
Although we’d heard sunglasses were only necessary outside, we still wore them unconsciously, squinting at everything.
“So, yes, it feels painful right now.”
Watching this from behind, Yunjae struggled to hide his unease.
He was still shaken.
[To me, there’s no one else besides you.]
Even showing his unusually vulnerable eyes without the barrier of glasses made my face burn.
With the sunglasses covering his eyes, it was slightly better, but the unfamiliar heartbeat we didn’t know persisted.
Even such reckless behavior unsettled him.
Hoo.
Perhaps that was why he didn’t like seeing us wrapped in Mrs. Kim’s embrace after walking in fine.
“This isn’t a particularly painful surgery.”
Yunjae remarked as he entered, and we freed ourselves from Mrs. Kim’s arms, adjusted our skewed sunglasses, and replied.
“But there’s a catch. Surgery is painful no matter what, right, Mrs. Kim?”
“Of course. Anything that touches raw flesh hurts. About dinner… is there anything you shouldn’t eat?”
“No, there isn’t. I haven’t thought about dinner yet, so I’ll eat later.”
“Pardon? Madam?”
“….”
How gluttonous must I have seemed to them?
As we briefly reflected on our past indulgences, Yunjae, walking ahead, turned back briefly, a smirk on his face.
He’s a character, that one.
Sometimes overly close, other times irritating enough to want to slap—he’s an exasperating person.
“First, let’s head to the room… ah, wait.”
Mrs. Kim, leading us to the room while we rolled our eyes, suddenly stopped.
“I have something for you, just a moment.”
She dashed back to the living room and returned with a small envelope for her.
“This is your mail, Madam.”
“Mine?”
“Yes. The same came for the director too.”
Receiving mail so unexpectedly, we lifted our sunglasses slightly.
The first thing visible through our still-imperfect vision was unmistakable: the logo.
‘Eunyang Foundation.’
Known as one of the most prestigious foundations in Korea, it is said that only political and financial elites supported by the first chairman could join.
The Eunyang Foundation is renowned for its reputation. Knowing their influence, they are notoriously proud, rarely giving attention to anyone else.
Yet…
“Why is this here?”
Not for me, but precisely for Joo Aejeong.
As she tried to open the envelope, Yunjae’s large hand blocked it.
“….”
Without us noticing, Yunjae covered the mail with his hand, tilting our heads.
“What’s this?”
“Give it here.”
As he tried to take the envelope, we instinctively held on.
“It’s my mail.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you trying to take it?”
“You don’t need to worry about it.”
Flinch.
Mrs. Kim, listening, recoiled at his firm words. Even the third party could be hurt; imagine how the person concerned felt.
She gave us a slightly anxious look.
What if Madam gets hurt because of this…
A brief silence filled the room before our small lips opened.
“Oh, really?”
Peering at Yunjae with eyes hidden behind sunglasses, we nodded lightly.
“Got it.”
Calmly, she let go of the envelope.
“I guess I don’t need to see it.”
“Correct.”
“I understand. Take it.”
She could read the sincerity behind his gruff manner.
Handing over the mail smoothly, Yunjae smirked and turned away.
Smiling? Why? What’s going on?
Mrs. Kim, unable to follow their conversation until the very end, felt slightly confused.
Who were these people?
Initially, they seemed completely incompatible; now they seemed like opposites—always contrasting, yet inseparably close.
To Mrs. Kim, who couldn’t join their conversation flow, we said:
“Mrs. Kim, I’ll rest a bit and have dinner later. If there’s meat, just heat anything up for me.”
“…Ah, yes. I will.”
Not a trace of offense appeared on her face.
While it was unthinkable to interfere in the employers’ conversation, she inadvertently offered help, preventing a potential internal grievance from festering.
“Madam…”
It seemed we weren’t the only ones concerned.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
Her expression was hidden by sunglasses, but thinking back to when we first met, we felt concern.
We asked instead, curious.
“About what?”
“Well… it’s just that…”
“Oh, it’s because of what he said, isn’t it?”
We answered calmly, watched Yunjae disappear down the hall, and shrugged.
“He just speaks frankly. He probably meant there’s nothing for me to do.”
“Huh?”
“Basically, it meant no need to waste your time.”
Mrs. Kim seemed to see through our unseen gaze.
A clear eye that misunderstood no words, misjudged no intentions.
“Then please, make sure it’s meat. Meat.”
Her focus on her own dinner eased Mrs. Kim’s concern.
“Yes, Madam.”
Leaving a smile behind, we entered the room, and Mrs. Kim muttered helplessly:
“These young people these days, I really don’t understand.”
She headed to the kitchen, continuing her unfinished mutterings.
No matter what, if you speak like that… what if they really fight…
Clatter.
At the end of this soliloquy, she met Yunjae.
Eek!
Like a child caught sneaking a snack past mom, she hastily tried to regain her composure.
As a veteran housekeeper, managing her expression was nothing.
“Shall I make coffee? Wait, I’ll do it.”
Yunjae entered the kitchen for exactly two reasons: meal times or coffee. Observing him, it wasn’t difficult to know what he was doing.
“You could have told me; I would have done it.”
She quickly took the kettle from his hands.
With little strength in the kitchen, Yunjae calmly said:
“You don’t need to worry about this.”
“That’s why I’m here—to take care of this. Sit down.”
Mrs. Kim, momentarily blaming him internally, replaced his position with sincere apologies.
Pathetic, really.
Knowing well that Yunjae rarely asked anything, even enough to make payment awkward, she still sighed and refilled the coffee machine.
Yunjae, unusually, spoke to her:
“Mrs. Kim.”
“Yes, Director. Please speak.”
Pausing briefly, he continued:
“It’s best to avoid greasy foods.”
Huh?
…Quickly, Mrs. Kim understood the meaning behind his long silence about her cooking.
Still a bit dazed, she nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes! I will!”
Mrs. Kim is a veteran housekeeper, over thirty years in the field, experienced with all sorts of people.
Pretending not to hear, pretending not to see, controlling facial muscles—second nature.
“Why are you laughing?”
This time, she failed to hide it.
“Oh dear, did I? Sorry. I just thought of my granddaughter.”
“…No.”
Straightening her elongated philtrum, Mrs. Kim gave a slight bow.
They’re a perfect match.
Swallowing the unsaid.
“….”
Yet Yunjae, feeling somewhat teased, only sipped coffee to soothe the unease.
