BO - 4

04. The Code Value of Choi Si-baek

Two years ago—on the eve of my departure to New York—I happened to witness a woman confessing her feelings to Choi Si-baek. She was the daughter of some senior executive, I think. Her short bob suited her perfectly, and the orange lipstick she wore looked striking against her brown hair and bronze eyes. It was a style completely opposite to mine, yet one I had secretly admired during high school when I trudged up hills in ankle socks and backpacks.  

That woman stood before Choi Si-baek.  

He was smoking, as usual, with his sleeves rolled up—a rare sight for him during work hours. His long, lean frame leaned casually against the wall, cigarette dangling from his fingers, while he exhaled smoke through slightly parted lips. Perched on his nose were sleek titanium glasses that added an air of indifference to his already aloof demeanor.  

The woman poured out her heart, but he remained focused solely on his cigarette. With every slow drag, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut over his chest, moving rhythmically with his breaths.  

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Director Choi. What about you?”  

From the tattoo peeking out beneath his collar to the cigarette slanted between his fingers, nothing about this man suggested he’d easily reciprocate such heartfelt words.  

“I’ve admired you from afar until now.”  

Despite receiving only a cloud of cigarette smoke in response, the woman continued to smile brightly, unfazed by his lack of reaction.  

“If romance isn’t your thing, use me. You can take advantage of me—it’s fine. My father still holds considerable influence. If you’re thinking strategically, I’m more than enough. Arranged marriage? I don’t mind at all.”  

“Red pepper flakes.”  

“Huh?”  

“Upper left jawline.”  

His monotone voice betrayed no interest as he flicked ash from his cigarette.  

The woman’s face paled instantly, as if struck by lightning on a summer night. Startled, she quickly pulled out a compact mirror to check her reflection.  

“What? There’s nothing there…”  

Before she could finish, Choi Si-baek crushed the cigarette under his shoe and walked toward the building. Unprepared, I turned away instinctively, pretending to tie my shoelaces. I hadn’t intended to eavesdrop; I was just leaving. Why did I hide? Honestly, there wasn’t even time to think about it.  

As I stood to leave, the woman blocked Choi Si-baek’s path, forcing me to sit back down awkwardly. To kill time, I busied myself retying my laces—over and over again. Everything happened so fast that I didn’t have a chance to come up with a plan to escape unnoticed.  

“I’m serious. I’ll do anything for you. Whatever you need—I’m here. A sturdy heir? Only I can offer that. Well, technically, it’s my family, but still.”  

Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm, sharp and lively—so different from my own perpetually calm tone.  

It was clear she genuinely cared for him. Even I could tell, so Choi Si-baek must have known too.  

“I don’t mix business with pleasure unless necessary.”  

His dry, flat delivery made me snicker quietly. Yeah, right. What would he call what we had then? Definitely not business.  

Clearly, he was brushing her off with a blatant lie, yet she seemed delighted by his response. Though her head was bowed, her voice radiated happiness. Despite being rejected, she didn’t appear pitiful in the slightest.  

“What’s wrong with you, Director Choi? Are you really that naive? Aren’t you supposed to be tough? Strange. Don’t tell me no one’s ever tried to cozy up to you. Intelligent talents are always coveted, no matter where they go.”  

Even after his unexpected answer, her excitement didn’t waver. How deeply must someone care to sound like that? Someone like me, who has dated but never quite called it love, wouldn’t understand even if I died trying.  

“Well, after shutting down some old hags’ mouths, I figured unnecessary sex wasn’t worth the hassle. Like your dad, for instance.”  

If this is how he talks about breakfast, I’d rather skip the meal altogether.  

I glanced up cautiously, catching his gaze. Shit. The profanity I’d never allowed myself to think slammed into my mind unbidden.  

Choi Si-baek, whose expression remained impassive, briefly touched the nape of his neck where his collar was neatly adjusted.  

“Excuse me. I’m busy, so I don’t have time to waste chatting here.”  

As he brushed past her, he gave her a dismissive once-over, from head to toe. Not a single trace of warmth crossed his lips.  

I watched his retreating figure disappear around the corner, hands stuffed casually into his pockets.  

---

Two years later, an invitation arrived—from the same woman who had confessed to Choi Si-baek that day.  

Executives from Mun-seong Corporation were all invited, including me and Choi Si-baek.  

Wedding venues on weekends were always bustling. From morning till dusk, countless couples dressed in identical colors stood, left, stood again, and departed like clockwork. A place where futures were promised.  

Despite the abundance of flowers symbolizing eternity and vows, my cynical thoughts about marriage felt barren.  

Weekend leisure meant more to me than attending weddings. Having stayed up late watching movies on Friday night, I overslept and barely made it before the ceremony began. Whether I attended or not wouldn’t make much difference anyway. Few people would notice my presence—or absence.  

Still, my feet led me there.  

Her voice, trembling yet sincere, lingered in my memory. Over those two years, she had moved on from her unrequited love and found someone new to marry. While I aimlessly drifted through those years, she reached the starting line of a new beginning, finally closing the chapter on her long, painful crush. If it were me, letting go of the past alone might have taken two years. Unlike me, she was decisive.  

Though I barely knew her, I felt a twinge of envy. I assumed her current choice stemmed from genuine feelings, just as her confession to Choi Si-baek had been utterly sincere. Someone like her wouldn’t marry a man she didn’t love. At least, that’s what I believed.  

I smoothed the collar of my dress and rearranged my disheveled hair.  

“You okay?”  

“Other than my hair being a mess, yeah.”  

Choi Si-baek lightly pointed to my forehead. My gaze naturally followed his fingertip.  

Even dressed for a wedding, his outfit remained classic and understated: a crisp white shirt, tailored suit pants, and a perfectly buttoned black jacket. Effortlessly, he overshadowed grooms decked out in tuxedos and heavy makeup. Typical Choi Si-baek—effortlessly stylish.  

“Mirror…”  

I rummaged through my bag, but the compact mirror I needed was missing. In my haste to get ready, I hadn’t checked my bag properly.  

With no other option, I tilted my head up toward Choi Si-baek, silently asking for help.  

I thought I’d be the nuisance guest, but apparently, troublemakers came in other forms too. Self-absorption truly was useless.  

His sharp nose, slightly moist lips, and deep, enigmatic eyes held hints of loneliness that could make any woman swoon.  

When those eyes looked at me…  

“…”  

“…”  

For a fleeting moment, I wondered if I was the protagonist of his story. Ridiculous, of course. Who would want to know my inner thoughts?  

It felt like crafting a screenplay for a celebrity—imagining scenarios that would never happen.  

“Hmm. Take a proper look, will you? It’s a wedding, after all.”  

“For whom?”  

“The general public?”  

“They’re not interested in you.”  

“Why are you picking a fight? Who knows? Maybe someone out there is.”  

“And if there is? What will you do?”  

“What else? Try to get along. It’s not every day.”  

“Idiot.”  

“Thanks to your antics, I couldn’t even go on a drive with Director Jeong. And it’s such a golden weekend.”  

Arguing with him was pointless—he wouldn’t back down. So, I resorted to verbal jabs instead.

Of course, my half-hearted attempts to provoke him would be as ineffective as throwing punches at a brick wall. I’d only end up with sore knuckles for my trouble.

“Men these days are so disappointing. Just because your car got wrecked, you can’t even go for a drive? Might as well use what you’ve got.”

But why was this man picking fights with me first thing in the morning?

“No, actually, if we’re talking about appearances, you’re the one who’s more put together.”

“I didn’t do anything special.”

“Who would believe that coming from someone like you…?”

“…”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything. It was nonsense.”

I almost let myself get carried away by his striking features and blurt out something foolish.

“For someone who claims otherwise, you sounded pretty sincere.”

He smirked and brushed it off, neither trying too hard nor pretending to be sophisticated. Was this the ease of someone born into privilege? No, it wasn’t just that. This was something innate—something he had possessed since birth, an effortless refinement that couldn’t be imitated. That’s what made him seem so mature. His poise and those eyes—no one could replicate them.

The tattoo peeking out when he tilted his neck slightly added a subtle edge to his otherwise immaculate appearance. Amidst his clean-cut demeanor, it was the one element of chaos allowed. Just a simple black design, yet it felt almost indecent, perhaps because of the way it contrasted with his otherwise composed self. Those long, slender but firm fingers didn’t help either.

His fingers, adorned with that dark ink, moved toward me, brushing away the stray strands of hair from my forehead. The touch of his fingertips against my skin sent shivers down my spine. The lump of tension lodged in my throat swallowed itself whole, burning like embers igniting a fire in my chest. My heart thudded heavily, spreading warmth throughout my body. His movements were practiced, as though he were used to tidying up disheveled hair. Come to think of it, I’d never seen him look anything less than perfectly groomed. He was always meticulously put together.

“…”

Unconsciously, I swallowed hard.

The Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat stood out sharply, as if he’d been caught eating the forbidden fruit. That taboo fruit—or rather, his Adam’s apple—rippled like waves, large and hot, mirroring the turmoil in my own heart. An overwhelming urge to touch it surged within me, but it remained confined to my imagination.

What was wrong with me? Could it be that I… liked Choi Si-baek?

Me? Liking Choi Si-baek?

This thug?

Unaware of the thoughts swirling in my head, Choi Si-baek stood silently, hands stuffed into his suit pants pockets, staring down at me without saying a word. His gaze lingered on my eyes, locking onto them like perfectly aligned bolts and nuts. I couldn’t look away, trapped in the intensity of his stare.

“What more do you want me to do? I can’t fix the fact that you’re not attractive.”

“What now?”

As I formed a question mark in my mind, I belatedly realized he had finished fixing my hair ages ago. I had been too lost in admiring him to notice.

“Ah.”

Feeling awkward, I quickly shifted my gaze to his tie.

“Why stop there? Keep looking. I’m not charging you for it.”

“…Do you even know how to make jokes, Director Choi?”

“Do boring jokes like this exist?”

“Exactly. There really are such boring jokes.”

“…”

“Don’t worry. You’re not my type anyway. If we’re talking looks, Cha Geon-joo is more my style.”

I added this unnecessary clarification, clearing my throat awkwardly. Depending on how you heard it, it might have sounded like a cheap excuse—a line drawn in the sand, declaring that he wasn’t my type.

Flustered, I fiddled meaninglessly with my shoes, which I had already adjusted several times.

“I knew you were strange, but your tastes are quite unique.”

“Huh? Isn’t Cha Geon-joo top-tier material?”

“Not really.”

“Your standards are ridiculously high. I’ve never seen anyone like him on the streets. Are you implying you’re better-looking? Whatever. Let’s just hurry up and go. The ceremony’s about to start.”

I tugged at his arm impulsively, then immediately regretted it and let go.

This discomfort… it was unbearable, truly suffocating.

But it was different from the usual discomfort I felt around him. This time, it came with an ironic mix of wanting to distance myself while simultaneously not wanting to let go. His watchful gaze, ever-present and unyielding, stirred a strange flutter in my chest. And strangely, I didn’t mind his interference. That was new.

This… was the beginning of a crush.

I’d only ever experienced a crush once before—in high school, on the handsome school nurse. But even that hadn’t amounted to much. He got married, and my unspoken feelings folded neatly like origami paper. So, I had no real history of romantic longing.

In short, I had no idea how to handle a crush or navigate it toward any kind of desired outcome.

“Are you meditating or something? What are you spacing out for?”

“Ah.”

Even the light brush of his hand pulling me closer to avoid the jostling crowd made me hyper-aware… it was different.

These subtle changes in my feelings toward him seemed trivial when dissected, but their weight was anything but light. This attraction, this curiosity about him—it unsettled me.

“…Pull yourself together.”

I was already exhausted from everything else going on in my life. Adding Choi Si-baek to the mix wouldn’t help matters.

Even muttering to myself like an idiot was all because of him.

Framing this surge of emotion as a crush suddenly made all the pieces fall into place. Everything I’d been struggling to understand about my tangled emotions finally made sense.

And the object of my affections? He was far from easy to deal with—one of the most difficult and inscrutable men I’d ever encountered. No matter how I looked at it, the road ahead wasn’t smooth. Not unless I decided to let go of these feelings.

Lost in thought, I mechanically moved my limbs until I spotted the bridal waiting room.

“Are you going in?”

“No.”

Choi Si-baek, a guest on the bride’s side, showed no intention of seeing her. Was he avoiding her because she had once confessed to him? Or did he simply not care about such things?

“Then wait here for a moment.”

I handed my bag to him, forcing myself to push aside my racing thoughts, and entered the bridal waiting room.

“Ah? Hello. You’re… Chairman Yoon’s…”

The bride greeted me warmly, looking exactly as she had two years ago—radiant with love. Her complexion was even brighter now, glowing with happiness.

“Yes. Congratulations on your wedding.”

Though we’d never spoken privately, she didn’t feel like a stranger to me. Despite my introverted nature, I wanted to greet her sincerely. I genuinely wished her happiness. Maybe it was because I saw a bit of myself in her—someone who had once harbored genuine feelings for Choi Si-baek. Though her past love had ended differently, she had found love again. In my overconfidence, I imagined her current emotions might mirror mine in some way.

“Um…”

“Yes?”

As I stared at the neatly folded stock bouquet in her hands, I awkwardly chuckled, meeting her gaze. Though hesitant, her tone made it clear she had something to say—and once she started, there was no stopping her. Just like back then.

“Did you see me before?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I confessed to Director Choi.”

“Ah...”

“So you did see me.”

Her long lashes fluttered downward, casting a shy shadow over her beautiful face. Despite feeling embarrassed, she still looked radiant. After all, today was her day—the bride’s day—and even her awkward smile seemed to reflect someone deeply in love.

“I feel so awkward and flustered.”

“If it’s not rude, may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

She readily agreed, adjusting her grip on the bouquet.

I hesitated for a long while after asking permission, unable to open my mouth. The butterfly effect of my seemingly trivial question both intrigued and terrified me, leaving me trapped in endless deliberation. But I couldn’t help it—I needed to know, and she was the only one who could provide an answer.

Lowering my gaze to the corner of the glass table as if apologizing in advance for my inquiry, I finally spoke.

“How did you let go of him? Of Choi Si-baek. I’m curious how you managed to move on.”

“Ah...”

“Was that too rude of a question?”

It felt strange to have this conversation with someone I was essentially meeting for the first time. The topic didn’t quite fit the slightly awkward atmosphere between us.

Even so, I wanted to know. Now that I realized my feelings were changing, I had to decide whether to pursue them or quietly bury them. Ending things here would be the most logical choice, but deep down, I knew emotions don’t simply obey our decisions. Perhaps her answer would hold the key to determining my next steps. Fortunately, she showed no sign of offense, calmly smiling with dimples forming on her cheeks.

“It’s not that I forgot him.”

“Huh?”

“It’s more accurate to say I moved on. Chasing after a man who never gave me a second glance left me exhausted. Unrequited love takes stamina, you know. When I got tired, it just... ended. Besides, it wasn’t mutual. Once I let go, that was it. To forget him, I went on three blind dates a day. And then, I met my fiancé.”

“...”

“I think what I liked about him was that he accepted me as I am, without me trying to look good for him. It felt comfortable. That’s when I decided. Between someone who makes your heart race and someone who makes you feel at ease, I chose the latter. In the end, marriage is about making that choice. By the way, Yoon Jae-yeon... do you like Director Choi?”

The sudden question hit me like a slap to the back of the head. I froze, unable to blink or breathe, managing only a deep inhale.

“Ah, was that too abrupt? It just felt like the vibe between you two suggested something.”

She continued to smile brightly, her face clear and unshadowed by any lingering attachment to her past love. Her honest smile left me speechless, holding my breath.

I hadn’t yet figured out whether I liked him or not, or which direction to take. Foolishly, I clung to the illusion that this was a decision I could make—like I could stop liking him if I just willed it. Arrogantly, I carried these heavy thoughts, pretending they were mine to resolve.

“In the end, the decision is yours, isn’t it? What harm is there in choosing? It’s all about love anyway.”

I wasn’t sure if I loved Choi Si-baek or not, but one thing was certain: he wasn’t someone who made me feel comfortable. Being around him was awkward, distant, and even the slightest eye contact felt strained. Beneath it all lay excitement.

Still, the conclusion that this was love came from her words, not mine. Did I agree?

“Be happy.”

With a bright smile, I conveyed my sincerity and turned to leave.

Choi Si-baek wasn’t where I expected him to be. Searching for him among the crowd, I spotted him standing by the elevator, gripping my bag as if it were a sushi knife. His comical pose brought a small laugh to my lips. My steps quickened as I approached, but then I heard a familiar voice.

“Yes, I’m seeing someone.”

“Ah, no wonder Director Choi hasn’t shown interest in anyone lately. Still, it’s disappointing. You never know—it might not last.”

“No plans to break up.”

“Wow, looks like Director Choi’s fallen hard. Always thought he was such a romantic, huh?”

I barely managed to move my stiff legs, hiding behind the nearby restroom entrance.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. My heart raced uncontrollably, and I clutched my chest as if trying to rip it out.

“We didn’t know Director Choi was already seeing someone.”

My heart ached bitterly at his words. All my self-indulgent pondering and worrying about whether I liked him suddenly felt pathetic. He was already in a relationship. Why had I completely dismissed that possibility? My own stupidity brought tears to my eyes. Unrequited love was bad enough, but falling for someone already taken? I didn’t have the strength to navigate such obstacles. Especially not unrequited love.

Though she called it love, I had already reached a conclusion before fully understanding my feelings. I needed to let go. The more I thought about him, the more I had to hide those thoughts. The more they surfaced, the more I had to erase them. It was purely for my own protection—to avoid getting hurt. Even though I’d never experienced this kind of love, I understood instinctively that it was a defense mechanism against dangerous attachments.

“Introduce her sometime. Does Cha know?”

“Not yet. I’ll tell him when the time feels right.”

“Ha! Well, it’s about time. Everyone else is settling down. Guess it’s noodle-eating season for you too?”

He laughed heartily, but Choi Si-baek’s gaze kept drifting toward the bridal waiting room. He briefly bowed his head, bit his lip, and clenched his jaw. Watching secretly, I retreated further into hiding.

“Alright, I’ll take my leave.”

“Sure, sure. Let’s grab dinner sometime, Director Cha. Oh, and Director Choi.”

I quickly darted out and hurried toward the bridal waiting room, almost running to put distance between us.

Gasping for breath, I arrived just as the ceremony began, the venue buzzing with noise. The microphone hummed, classical music played softly, and my heartbeat thundered in sync with the cursed melody.

Desperate to hide my despairing face, I pressed my forehead against the wall, staring only at my toes. At least this way, I could survive. It was fortunate I found out now, before he burrowed deeper into my heart. If I’d discovered he cared for someone else later, the despair would’ve been unbearable.

Even now, there was no solution. Creating an even worse situation was unthinkable.

“What now? More nonsense?”

His polished shoe tip peeked into my line of sight, which had been fixed on my feet. A sigh and a hint of exasperation slipped into the small space I’d created. Tilting my head slightly, I saw his lower body—hands in his pockets, my mini handbag dangling awkwardly yet somehow perfectly from his wrist. 

Men often find it embarrassing to hold a woman’s bag outside the restroom, but that’s because they lack Choi Si-baek’s aura. Even holding my tiny bag, his large hands made the picture perfect. But what did it matter? He wasn’t mine to claim anyway. What good was being handsome or accomplished if I couldn’t have him?

Thinking about it, there were many downsides. A gangster boyfriend? It was my worst nightmare.

Just look at Uncle. He spent his life worrying about the safety of those close to him, and here I was, fanning away summer worries about him every day. Living on waves, always fearing the boat might capsize—it was exhausting, painful, and something I’d known for half my life.

Knowing how heavy a burden loving Choi Si-baek would be, why couldn’t I shake these feelings?

“...Let’s go home.”

“The ceremony just started.”

“I’m done here.”

“What do you mean, ‘done’?”

“Meeting Goh Hye-jung.”

“You two know each other?”

“No. Let’s just hurry home.”

“Fine. I’m your errand boy, after all.”

Choi Si-baek didn’t approach me until I’d fully turned my head and shifted direction toward the elevator. With his lips pressed tightly shut, like a clam chewing on gravel, he stared at the elevator panel while his gaze occasionally flickered toward me.

“Why don’t we grab some jjamppong on the way? You love that stuff.”

“Another time. My stomach’s not feeling great.”

I turned my head away, avoiding his eyes.

Without a word, he held my bag and stayed by my side. What else could a bodyguard do but guard? I stopped assigning meaning to his actions and sighed deeply.

“Is something really wrong? Why are you acting like this today?”

“I just want to go home and rest.”

After my relentless demands, he finally fell silent, offering no further words.

I desperately needed an iced coffee to soothe my restless gut. Occasionally, I felt his gaze burning into me through the rearview mirror, but I kept my eyes fixed on the signs flashing past outside the car window. Just then, a green sign caught my eye as the car came to a stop.

“Instead of ordering delivery when we get home, why don’t we eat something here?”

“Forget it. Let’s just grab coffee.”

I was craving caffeine so badly I could scream.

With a face that looked ten years older, I muttered under my breath.

While I pressed hard on my tired eyelids, Choi Si-baek returned with two large iced Americanos filled with ice.

Unless I was cursed with bad luck, why did everything happening to me lately feel so exhausting?

My gaze naturally drifted to him as he sat across from me, sipping his coffee.

His plump lips wrapped around the straw, puckering slightly before relaxing, the corners of his mouth curling faintly. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed, followed by a subtle ripple in his throat. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

The sunlight streaming through the café window made his lips glisten, their pink hue looking especially vibrant today—rosier than even my lipstick-stained lips. That damn nose of his—it irked me.

Kim Jong-seop would’ve ripped out the straw and gulped his drink down without a care, but this man was different. He was meticulous and sensitive, disliking smudges or spills. Fussy and delicate—he wasn’t someone I particularly liked, yet somehow, those traits made him seem special.

Honestly, it was probably because he was handsome. Everything about him seemed extraordinary no matter what he did.

When most men sip coffee through a straw, they can look petty, but not him. He sidestepped all of that. Even his careful avoidance of spilling a single drop of coffee somehow made him appear sexier—it was maddening. Damn. I shouldn’t let myself spiral deeper into this.

Where the straw had been, a trace of moisture lingered. His tongue darted out silently, cleaning the coffee stain with precision.

I wasn’t usually this susceptible to stimuli, but watching him felt like being placed over a flame. If I let my guard down for even a moment, my emotions threatened to boil over. It was as if I were holding onto something beyond my control.

“What are you staring at?”

“I think it’s ridiculous when men drink coffee through a straw.”

“What?”

“What kind of gangster drinks coffee like that?”

“Then how should I drink it?”

“Like Kim Jong-seop—rip out the straw and chug it with charisma. Ugh, your obsession with being neat is so annoying.”

What nonsense was I spouting?

“What’s gotten into you today?”

He looked utterly baffled, shaking his head with a forced laugh.

“Never mind. Just ignore me and finish your coffee.”

I grabbed one of the Americanos off the tray haphazardly, stuck the straw in my mouth, and started slurping. The icy liquid instantly cooled my overheated heart. The caffeine hit was a relief—I could finally breathe.

Passing women glanced our way. Wherever he went, he stood out—his presence magnetic, his features anything but ordinary. This man exuded an overwhelming aura that drew attention.

Stretching my stiff legs and tilting my head lazily, I paused mid-sip and locked eyes with Choi Si-baek. His gaze was eerily calm, almost static. Only after a moment did I realize his focus wasn’t on me but on the straw.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, I stared down at the coffee I’d been slurping furiously. Then, almost unconsciously, my gaze shifted to the other cup on the tray. He’d taken a few sips earlier, but the liquid level in his cup hadn’t budged—it remained full, the ice clinking softly against the sides.

It wasn’t until I spat out the straw that I realized: this was the coffee Choi Si-baek had been drinking.

“…”

Now it felt awkward to hand it back, so I quietly put the straw back in my mouth and resumed drinking.

Was this… indirect kissing?

For some reason, the coffee tasted sweeter. Sweet? What was I thinking? I’d lost my mind, Jae-yeon Seo.

After everything we’d already done together, why was my heart racing like this over something so trivial? I wasn’t some hormonal eighteen-year-old high schooler. My first love—the school nurse I’d once crushed on—never made my heart pound like this.

“So, um… Director Choi, are you planning to hold your wedding at that hotel too?”

My abrupt question made him pause mid-reach for his new Americano and look at me.

It was the safest version of the question I truly wanted to ask: Are you dating her with marriage in mind?

“How would I know that?”

“If the person getting married doesn’t know, who does?”

This jealousy-driven curiosity was embarrassingly crude.

Unfazed by my probing, he set his cup down, rested his chin on his hand, and met my gaze. His sharp jawline pressed firmly into his palm.

“Am I the only one getting married? You have to ask the other person. It’s not a decision I make alone.”

“What if they say no?”

“Then we’ll find another venue.”

“And if they say yes?”

“Then we’ll go ahead with it. What exactly are you asking?”

“…I just wondered why anyone would waste so much money renting a wedding hall when it costs an arm and a leg. That’s all.”

My mood plummeted into despair. Letting a man dictate my emotions minute by minute was idiotic, and the fact that I was doing it voluntarily disgusted me.

“Should we hit up a club tonight? I heard you have to strip naked just to get in.”

“How about shutting up and drinking your coffee?”

“How do you drink coffee with your mouth closed?”

“Then keep it shut unless you’re eating.”

“We’ll see.”

Come to think of it, I’d never rebelled in any significant way. I’d attended an all-girls middle and high school, followed the prescribed path to university, dated lukewarm boyfriends, and never once stepped foot in a club. Buried under the weight of a mischosen major, studying obsessively—it was no surprise my life lacked adventure. The two biggest rebellions of my life involved this man: the night we spent together, and now, falling for him. Liking Choi Si-baek might be the greatest act of rebellion I’d ever committed.

Loving a thug? I knew better than anyone the risks involved. Every reckless chapter of my life featured Choi Si-baek.

“Maybe I’ll get a tattoo.”

It was clear that a conservative institution like the hospital wouldn’t approve, but wanting something and having the courage to do it were two different things. Besides, though no one said it outright, doctors sporting tattoos were frowned upon. The thought of enduring lectures from judgmental old-timers exhausted me.

“Where should I get it so it hurts less?”

I stretched out both arms, rotating them to inspect potential spots, when he suddenly grabbed my left wrist and yanked it toward him. Startled, I widened my eyes and stared at him. My throat tightened as I swallowed audibly.

His fingers traced up my wrist, stopping near the thin muscles of my forearm. The heat of his touch sent hiccups rippling through me. My pulse raced wildly, threatening to betray my anxiety.

“Uh, why…”

“Get it here.”

“What…”

“…”

“Oh… the tattoo.”

I gasped, struggling to catch my breath. I yanked my arm free and hid it, my insides burning despite the cold drink I’d been nursing.

“Kim Jong-seop got his on his dick. Maybe try there.”

“I’ll just shut up and drink my coffee.”

Unaware that my cup was empty, I kept sucking on the straw, producing only the sound of air escaping.

Leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, he watched me slurp at nothingness.

I popped an ice cube into my mouth and crunched it loudly.

As I continued chewing the ice, my eyelids burned with heat.