PBWY - 7

The Breaking Point

After finishing dinner, Yeonhee slumped onto the couch.

She hadn’t been feeling well lately. It seemed as if her body was mirroring her troubled mind. With her spirit sick, she always felt lethargic. Resting her chin on her knees, she mindlessly flicked through the channels with the remote when her mother approached and sat close to her.

“Yeonhee.”

“What?”

Her response came out sharp. She couldn’t help it. Her mother only ever used a sweet tone with her when she wanted something. Knowing this, her defensive response had become second nature.

Without reacting to Yeonhee’s curt tone, her mother simply sat closer and continued speaking with a smile.

“You haven’t taken out any loans yet, have you?”

“Loans? What loans?”

Something didn’t feel right. Furrowing her brows, Yeonhee turned to look at her mother, whose eyes glimmered with expectation.

“Like a personal loan or something.”

“No, I haven’t. And I don’t plan to. Don’t ask me to do anything like that. I don’t want to.”

Before her mother could even suggest anything, Yeonhee cut her off firmly. At that, her mother’s sweet voice immediately changed.

“Why do you always jump to conclusions and get scared before I even say anything? Do you think I’m trying to devour you?”

“You may not devour me, but you certainly devour my money.”

With a deep sigh, Yeonhee turned off the TV. To escape this tiresome conversation, she figured leaving the room was her best option. She thought of retreating to her room to look over some documents she hadn’t reviewed yet.

Just as she was about to leave, her mother grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the couch, forcing her to sit down again.

“I’m planning to open a store.”

“A store? Out of the blue…?”

“You know that XX Bakery is trendy these days. Everyone says their stuff is delicious. I was thinking of giving it a try, but I’m a bit short on money. I think I just need another fifty million won. You like baked goods too, don’t you?”

Yeonhee’s eyes narrowed sharply. A store? Out of nowhere? Business wasn’t something to take lightly, and starting one without proper preparation didn’t make any sense to her.

“If you start without proper planning and end up losing everything, then what?”

Shaking her head in concern, Yeonhee suddenly recalled something. XX Bakery. Come to think of it, wasn’t that the name written on the pamphlets her older brother, Jung Yeonjun, had been carrying around for the past month?

A chilling sense of foreboding crept down her spine. Yeonhee stared at the couch in thought for a moment before lifting her head again.

“Mom, this is for helping oppa open a store, isn’t it?”

“…No, of course not.”

Her mother’s hesitant and drawn-out reply came belatedly. Yeonhee was certain. Her assumption was the truth.

Her brother was still unemployed. At some point, he had stopped even pretending to look for work. Yeonhee had long given up expressing her dissatisfaction with him. But the idea of taking out a loan in her name to open a store for him ignited fury within her.

“Why me? Why is it always me?”

She struggled to keep her voice calm despite her anger.

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“Why not take out a loan under oppa’s name? Why does it have to be my name?”

“He doesn’t have a steady income, so it’s difficult for him to get approved.”

“Then do it under your name or Dad’s.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll take loans out in our names too.”

Yeonhee let out a deep sigh. The family had struggled with her brother’s tuition fees and the accidents he caused, but at least they hadn’t accumulated any debt, which had been a small comfort to her. Now, it seemed even that would be taken away.

“In any case, I refuse. If your loans aren’t enough, then get a mortgage on the house or something.”

“We need to save the house for when Yeonjun gets married. How can you even suggest that? Can’t you just help us out?”

“Mom!”

At her mother’s response, Yeonhee’s expression twisted in frustration.

Her mother’s world had always revolved around her brother. It was as if Yeonhee’s sacrifices weren’t even worth considering, as though she were nothing more than an extra attached to the life of Jung Yeonjun.

“Why are you yelling all of a sudden?”

Her mother shrieked back, matching her volume.

Yeonhee shot up from her seat, her fists clenched tightly. Her hands trembled. A mix of resentment and sorrow surged through her, making the tip of her nose sting as tears threatened to fall. She was on the verge of breaking down.

“Why me? Why is it always me? I’m so sick of it! If oppa can’t take out a loan because of his situation, then he should get a job!”

Her mother also leaped to her feet and, without warning, shoved Yeonhee by the shoulders, driving her back toward the sofa.

“Do you think you’re all that just because you work for some company now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“If we had saved all the money spent on your college tuition, allowance, and meals, we’d have more than enough to cover Yeonjun’s loan!”

“……”

For a moment, the painful truth struck Yeonhee like a lightning bolt.

Her mother’s words made it sound as if she was a parasite, feeding off her brother.

Even her boiling anger seemed to subside into eerie calm. All she had done was live her life as this family’s daughter, yet somehow, her very existence was framed as something that drained Jung Yeonjun.

Mom. To you, what am I, really?

Yeonhee forced her trembling lips to stay shut and lowered her gaze. Not a single tear fell. The overwhelming shock seemed to settle within her, like sediment in still water.

As Yeonhee swallowed her sorrow in silence, her mother shouted at her with a face frozen in cold anger.

“Who do you think you are to make my son’s life harder, huh?”

Yeonhee raised her head, her gaze unsteady. She stared at her mother’s tightly pursed lips and flushed face. Her mother’s eyes brimmed with barren rage, void of any warmth.

Yeonhee barely managed to force out the words swirling in her chest.

“Mom. I’m… I’m your daughter too.”

Not just oppa—he’s not the only one who’s your child. I’m your daughter too. Why have you never once called me ‘my daughter’?

The swelling sadness finally overflowed. The tears she had been holding back began to trickle down her face. She gritted her teeth in an effort to suppress them, but her willpower was no match for the relentless stream that streaked her cheeks.

The tears clung to her chin for a moment before falling in droplets. Despite Yeonhee’s tears, her mother seemed unfazed, showing no sign of emotion.

Instead, she turned her head away from Yeonhee, avoiding her entirely.

“I don’t need a daughter who only thinks about herself.”

The strength in Yeonhee’s clenched fists drained away.

Bzzz—bzzz—bzzz.

Yeonhee stared at her vibrating phone, debating whether to answer.

[Min Junghoon Team Leader]

His name flashed on the screen. She wanted nothing more than to answer and hear his gentle voice. Even if his kindness was superficial or his comfort insincere, she craved it.

But she couldn’t bring herself to answer.

I’m struggling so much, Junghoon. I want to see you. Can’t you just hold me, just once?

She feared she might say something childish like that. She was terrified she would beg for emotional support that she wasn’t entitled to, scared she’d overstep and ultimately drive him away. The thought paralyzed her, making it impossible to answer.

The buzzing stopped after a few more rings. Fearing she might give in to her emotions, Yeonhee turned off her phone altogether.

She told herself she could explain everything after the weekend, once she returned to work. By then, her emotions would have settled, and she would be able to face him with composure.

“If you act sweet, I’ll treat you sweetly.”

His words echoed painfully in her mind.

Right. I have to act sweet. I can’t cling too much. Even if it’s just his false kindness, I can’t afford to ruin it by being overly needy.

Yeonhee blinked blankly. The flickering ceiling light seemed to match the tears streaming from her eyes.

The cheap wallpaper adorned with rose patterns, the yellowed furniture, the shouting voices leaking through the thin walls—it all reminded her where she was. She was lying in a dingy motel room. It was Friday night, and this was the only room she could manage to find.

After hearing her mother say she didn’t need a daughter like her, Yeonhee had stormed out of the house. With trembling hands, she hastily shoved a few belongings into her bag and fled like the wind.

Her mother had seen her leaving as she walked past the living room, but all she did was laugh loudly at the TV. Yeonhee had stopped in her tracks, watching her mother laugh.

“Mom, give me the money you saved for my wedding,” she had said, her voice hollow with exhaustion.

Her mother responded bluntly, without even looking at her.

“I’ve already decided to invest that money in your brother’s business. When you get married, I’ll pay you back with interest.”

At this point, even words like that no longer surprised her. Yeonhee had stared blankly at her mother’s face, let out a bitter laugh, and left without another word.

If only her mother had asked where she was going. If only she had apologized or tried to stop her. Even just a small gesture might have softened the blow to her breaking heart. But her mother hadn’t cared enough to do any of that.

Yeonhee had wanted to tell her. I’m leaving you for good. You’ll no longer have a foolish daughter who waits for the love you’ll never give. But since her mother hadn’t asked, there was no opportunity to say it.

Yeonhee wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and let out a long sigh. She began calculating in her head.

“How much do I have in my bank account…?”

It was the end of the month, and she was out of her allowance. She couldn’t even afford to stay in a tiny goshiwon room. She had lived like a naive fool, and now she was face-to-face with this pitiful and miserable reality. She should have left that house sooner. What happiness had she expected to find there?

“…Ha.”

She forced her tears into a hollow laugh, scolding herself.

“At least it’s the weekend.”

Her empty voice echoed through the room. If it had been a weekday, she would have had to go to work, swollen eyes and all, and face Junghoon. She wouldn’t have been able to show him the “sweet” version of herself that he liked.

After wiping away her tears, she began to think about her next steps. First… Once her next paycheck arrived, she would move into a goshiwon. Since she wouldn’t have to send money to her mother anymore, she could save enough for a small rental deposit in just a few months.

Thud. Thud. The loud banging from the adjacent room pulled her back to the present. Yeonhee covered her ears and closed her eyes. Just a few more days. Once payday arrived, she could move to a goshiwon. She just had to endure a little longer.

Her tired body slowly sank into sleep. As the waves of drowsiness swept over her, an unanswerable question surfaced in her mind.

“What did I do wrong?”

All she ever wanted was a sliver of her mother’s attention. To be seen. To be loved. She had always tried her hardest, desperate to please.

All she ever wanted was to be loved. But the reality she faced was unbearably cruel.

She let out a hollow laugh, only to swallow it back, curling into herself.

How long had she been lying there? It felt like two nights had passed. She had come here Friday night, so… it must be Sunday by now.

Yeonhee looked toward the small motel window, trying to gauge the time. But the only thing she saw was the dark sheet of film covering the window.

Dragging herself up, she felt the dull throbbing in her head. She grabbed her phone, which was lying carelessly on the bed, and turned it on. A familiar name popped up on the screen.

[Missed calls: Min Junghoon, Team Leader – 14 calls.]

She stared blankly at the notification. There was no way Junghoon would call her this many times.

There were also a few messages.

[Yeonhee. Call me back when you see this.]

She wondered for a moment if something serious had happened but figured it must have just been a routine call.

Yeonhee started to call Junghoon but slowly lowered her arm. Her mind felt empty. She didn’t think she could have a normal conversation with him in her current state. It would be better to face him on Monday and explain with a smile.

She would tell him that she had to leave her house for personal reasons. She’d apologize for worrying him, and that would be it. Right now, she felt like a balsam seed on the verge of bursting; even the smallest touch of his kindness would make her break down into uncontrollable sobs.

As she set an alarm for work the next day, her phone buzzed—Bzzzz. It was her friend, Lim Joon-jae.

She hesitated before answering, then pressed the call button. She didn’t mind breaking down in front of Joon-jae. With him, it didn’t matter if she cried her eyes out and let everything out. He wasn’t someone she had to put on a pretty face for or act sweet around.

“Yeah, Joon-jae,” she said softly.

“What are you doing? I’m bored. Let’s hang out,” he replied in his usual playful, carefree tone.

Hearing his familiar voice, Yeonhee felt her suppressed emotions surge to the surface. Her lips trembled as she fought to hold them back, but in the end, she couldn’t.

“…Joon-jae. I ran away from home…” she said, her voice cracking.

“Huh? What?”

After that, she cried like a child. Like a little kid holding back tears after falling, only to burst into sobs when they finally see their mother, she let it all out.

Hearing Yeonhee’s sudden, tearful outburst, Joon-jae could only stammer, “Huh? Uh… what?” But soon, he calmed himself and began soothing her in a steady tone.

“Yeonhee. Jung Yeonhee. Wait a minute. What do you mean you ran away from home?”

“Yeah… I asked my mom for money, but… she refused. So, I just… left.”

“Aish. So, it finally happened, huh?” he muttered, almost to himself. Despite her vague explanation, Joon-jae seemed to grasp the situation quickly. They’d been friends for over ten years. He was familiar with her family’s issues, and it didn’t take much for him to piece things together.

He let out a deep sigh and asked in a worried tone, “Your mom asked for money to give to Yeonjun hyung, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. That’s right…”

“Ah, seriously, why does your mom always do this… I’m not trying to insult her, but—ugh, it’s so frustrating…”

“You can insult her. It’s fine to insult her…” Yeonhee said as she curled into herself, sobbing like a child. Hearing Joon-jae’s voice on the other end of the line, she couldn’t hold back the sadness she had been pushing down.

“So, where are you? Where are you staying?”

“I’m at a motel right now.”

“Did you bring your stuff with you?”

“Yeah… just a little.”

Over the phone, she could hear Joon-jae moving around. There were rustling noises and the metallic clinking of something being packed.

“What’s the name of the motel? Where exactly is it?”

“It’s called XXXX Motel… near Seolleung Station.”

“Pack your things and wait there. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. When I call, come out.”

“Huh? You’re coming? Why?”

There was a loud clang, likely the sound of a metal door slamming shut, followed by Joon-jae’s voice echoing as if he were walking down a hallway.

“Because I’m going to feed you something good and make sure you sleep somewhere decent, that’s why!”

“…”

“And don’t even think about saying stuff like ‘It’s too much’ or ‘I won’t take your money.’ If you do, I swear I’ll flip the table!”

Hearing Joon-jae declare that he was coming to get her, Yeonhee couldn’t say a word in response. Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she was crying again. Normally, she would have refused, saying it was fine and that she was okay staying where she was. But not today.

It was one of those days when all she wanted was to cling to a friend and cry her heart out, to lean on someone. So Yeonhee didn’t want to reject Joon-jae’s kindness.

After wiping her wet face with her sleeve, Yeonhee smiled faintly.

“I’m glad you’re my friend. Thank you.”

“…What’s with you all of a sudden? Anyway, just come out when I call!” Joon-jae replied, his voice a little stiff, as if embarrassed, before abruptly ending the call.

With renewed energy, Yeonhee forced herself to stand up. Having eaten nothing for two days, she felt light-headed.

She slowly began packing her belongings. It was time to accept her friend’s kindness without guilt.

“Anyway, this might actually be for the best,” she muttered.

“Do you think so?”

“Of course. If this hadn’t happened, you’d still be stuck at home, going in circles. Take this opportunity to shake it all off. Don’t be foolish.”

At Joon-jae’s words, Yeonhee nodded while staring at the trees passing by outside the car window.

A little while earlier, Joon-jae had arrived at the motel, immediately loaded her belongings into the trunk, and started driving somewhere. He insisted on feeding her first, saying that when you’re feeling down, you at least need a full stomach. He declared he would cover all the expenses, warning her not to even think about suggesting splitting the bill, or he’d genuinely get angry.

Today, Yeonhee didn’t reject her friend’s generosity. She decided to let go and simply accept it. Even if it meant treating him to a grand feast later, she wanted to be comforted unconditionally, just for today.

Not long after, they arrived at a hotel. And not just any hotel—a familiar one.

As Yeonhee stepped out of the car with the valet’s help, she hesitated slightly. Joon-jae had said he’d treat her to a nice meal, so she had nodded along, but she hadn’t expected to end up here.

This hotel was a place she often visited with Junghoon. Memories of him lingered everywhere in this place.

“Let’s go. Enjoy the view, eat some good food, and sleep well in a nice place. I’ll cover the hotel costs too,” Joon-jae said as he gently guided her forward.

Yeonhee hesitated but eventually followed him. She couldn’t bring herself to say, “I don’t want to stay at this hotel.” How could she explain that it felt strange because she used to come here often with her… intimate partner? Even if she’d already shared secrets with Joon-jae, this was a different matter.

Besides, they were just here for a meal. What was there to make a fuss about?

Inside the elevator heading to the top floor, Yeonhee rubbed the back of her neck. For some reason, a cool sensation coursed through her body.

Soon, they arrived at the restaurant. During dinner, Joon-jae bombarded her with questions, and Yeonhee diligently answered them.

She explained how her mother had once asked her to give up her matured savings account and now wanted her to take out a loan. She shared how her mother had said hurtful things, calling her older brother her only child and saying Yeonhee didn’t even count as a daughter. It was, in essence, a venting session.

As Yeonhee laid bare her painful thoughts, she felt a bit lighter. It was true what they said—the burden of wounds is heavier when carried alone.

Letting out a deep sigh, Joon-jae asked, “So she really told you to take out a loan in the end?”

Yeonhee nodded weakly.

In the meantime, the scallop dish arrived. As Yeonhee absentmindedly dragged her fork through the balsamic glaze, she thought of Junghoon. This was the dish she had always enjoyed most when she dined here with him.

She stared blankly at her plate until Joon-jae spoke again.

“So, you’re saying you’re going to move into a goshiwon?”

“Yeah.”

Joon-jae stopped cutting his food and shook his head.

“I told you I’d lend you money. I’d even charge you interest if that makes you feel better. Why are you making things harder on yourself? Living in a goshiwon will be tough.”

Yeonhee firmly rejected his offer.

“I’d rather take out a loan than borrow money from you.”

Her expression was resolute.

Borrowing money from Joon-jae would be an easy and simple thing to do. After all, he was someone who could describe purchasing a 1.2 billion won piece of art as “a bargain.” Lending a few thousand won for a deposit probably wouldn’t mean much to him at all.

But the reason Yeonhee couldn’t accept such an easy solution was that her relationship with Joon-jae was precious to her. Money tends to complicate things. No matter how careful both parties are, a relationship changes the moment money is involved.

Yeonhee didn’t want that.

“Anyway, don’t bring up money again. I’ll handle it. I’m already grateful for the meal and the room you’ve booked for me today.”

“Stubborn as always. Fine. I won’t bring it up again,” Joon-jae grumbled as he took a sip of water.

Yeonhee simply smiled. His kindness felt so different from Junghoon’s. When Junghoon was kind, it made her heart flutter. With Joon-jae, it just brought a smile to her face.

It was probably because her feelings for the two were made of different things. Her feelings for Joon-jae were pure friendship. For Junghoon, it was nothing but a desperate love.

Why, then, did she suddenly miss Junghoon? Being with Joon-jae in a place where she had shared so many memories with Junghoon only made her miss him more. Even if he constantly hurt her, she loved him too much. She had loved him so deeply that she always found herself longing for him.

Even though he wouldn’t come back, even though her love was fleeting and futile, she couldn’t help herself.

“So, it was complete chaos. Who would’ve thought Wonjun would make such an explosive statement at the shareholders’ meeting, calling for Cha Joon-yi to step down as CEO?”

“……”

“And then the Madam of Hyungyung Group collapsed. Wow... Cha Joon-yi really got screwed over. Even though they’re half-brothers, he trusted him, and then to be stabbed in the back like that…”

Junghoon ignored Park Chankyung, who was rambling on beside him, and kept staring at his phone. The dark screen showed no missed calls or new messages.

Junghoon’s brows furrowed in irritation. Gripping his phone tightly, he barely noticed Chankyung asking, “Are you waiting for someone to call you?”

Lost in thought, Junghoon finally turned his head.

Chankyung leaned over his shoulder, sneaking a glance at his phone, grinning slyly. He seemed intrigued by the sight of Junghoon glued to his phone all day—something he had never seen him do before.

“Come on, are you seeing someone? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Junghoon’s eyes turned cold at Chankyung’s teasing.

“What the hell are you talking about, you idiot—”

“Alright, alright! Geez, can’t even make a joke around you,” Chankyung said, cutting off Junghoon’s words and stepping back.

“Man, you really need to work on that temper of yours. Seriously, who else but me would stick around as your friend?” he grumbled, playfully tapping Junghoon’s shoulder before falling silent.

Junghoon didn’t respond. He simply folded his arms.

Inside a towering hotel in the heart of Seoul, the elevator carrying Junghoon and Chankyung slowly ascended toward the rooftop restaurant.

Joon-jae smiled as he watched Yeonhee eat her sorbet. Their meal was nearly over.

“You seem better than before, Yeonhee,” he remarked.

“Hmm?”

Yeonhee looked up, still holding her small spoon. Joon-jae’s smile, one of relief, met her gaze. Gesturing for her to keep eating, he rested his chin on his hand and spoke in a calm voice.

“From now on, just live for yourself. Stop letting your mother drag you around.”

“Got it.”

“Keep it simple. Just think about yourself, okay? That’s all you need to do.”

“I said I got it,” Yeonhee replied with a giggle, nodding.

As Joon-jae pulled a cake plate toward him, he held out his hand to her.

“Promise me, alright? For real this time, okay?”

He held up his pinky finger. Without hesitation, Yeonhee linked her pinky with his.

A promise. She genuinely wanted to keep that promise. To think only of herself, to push aside all other thoughts. She wanted to be happy that way. She was about to let out a soft chuckle and murmur, “I really want to be happy.”

Suddenly, the hand she had been holding with Joon-jae was torn away. Her wrist was grabbed by someone else, roughly yanked upward.

Startled by the unexpected situation, she raised her head.

What she saw was someone’s eyes burning like blue flames. It was Junghoon’s gaze, filled with fierce anger.

“Junghoon?”

Yeonhee was so shocked she could only open and close her lips silently. Junghoon didn’t reply. He simply stared at her for what felt like an eternity, as if trying to suppress the storm of emotions roiling inside him. Only after that did he let go of her wrist.

“What are you doing here?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what are you doing?”

“……”

His low voice was so icy that Yeonhee couldn’t form a proper response.

As she faltered, Junghoon slowly turned his head. His cold, unrelenting gaze shifted to Joon-jae, who was sitting across from her. His face was stern, as if he was on the verge of spitting out curses, but for now, he just stared, his expression stark and threatening.

Joon-jae’s shoulders gave a small shudder. A chill ran down his spine for some reason. He couldn’t understand what was happening.

But he couldn’t bring himself to lash out at this unwelcome intruder, demanding, “Who the hell are you?” The tension emanating from Junghoon was unnerving. Though it was Junghoon who had barged in, Joon-jae somehow felt like an observer caught in a bizarre situation.

Junghoon shifted his gaze from Joon-jae and picked up Yeonhee’s phone from the table. With a blank expression, he casually skimmed through her call log. Only then did he speak, his voice calm.

“It’s working fine.”

He tossed the phone back onto the table and gave a faint, bitter smile.

“Damn… You should’ve just broken it.”

His smile carried an icy chill. Then, he gently grabbed Yeonhee’s hand again.

“Your hand seems fine, too.”

“Junghoon, this isn’t what it looks like…”

Yeonhee stammered, her lips trembling. Junghoon quietly stared at her faltering mouth. A silent rage seemed to smolder beneath his composed expression.

“Then why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“……”

“Did you ignore me on purpose to meet that guy?”

Without even glancing at Joon-jae, Junghoon referred to him with disdain, his voice low and venomous. His eyes blazed with raw ferocity, like a predator about to sink its teeth into its prey.

His clenched fist trembled with suppressed violence, the veins on his hand visibly taut.

“Junghoon.”

Yeonhee, alarmed, grabbed his hand. It was clear there had been a massive misunderstanding. But before she could say anything, Junghoon leaned closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper by her ear.

“Come with me. Right now.”

His voice was dark, heavy like shadows pooling in the dim light. A chill ran down Yeonhee’s spine.

It would have been better if he had just yelled or gotten angry. His forcibly controlled composure only made him seem all the more terrifying.

Junghoon brushed past Chankyung, who had been standing awkwardly behind him, and strode toward the elevator. Yeonhee, flustered, looked back and forth between Joon-jae and Junghoon, her face a mask of confusion. She was so overwhelmed she was nearly in a state of panic.

It was Joon-jae who regained his composure first. Judging from the word “Team Leader” that Yeonhee had shouted, it seemed like he’d figured something out. Hastily, he ran after Junghoon, shaking his head frantically as he caught up.

“This is a misunderstanding.”

Junghoon didn’t respond to Joon-jae’s words. Instead, he calmly looked past him, to where Yeonhee was walking toward them with a troubled expression.

The spark in Junghoon’s eyes reignited.

“What do you mean, it’s not?”

His voice was so ominous that it almost sent a chill down the spine. Joon-jae fumbled for his wallet, pulled out a business card, and held it out.

The name of the museum was neatly embossed on the pristine white card. At the bottom, written in cursive, was a name: Im Joon-jae, Director.

Junghoon stared at the business card for a moment, then carelessly flicked it away, as if he couldn’t be bothered. The card fluttered to the ground and ended up in a corner.

Joon-jae, now flustered, glanced at the card on the floor before raising his head again. Under the soft hotel lighting, Junghoon’s piercing gaze shone sharply.

Looking down at the shorter Joon-jae, Junghoon smiled.

“So, what do you mean, it’s not?” he repeated. “I asked you a question, didn’t I, you piece of shit? What’s the point of calling someone over if you’re just going to stay silent?”

The curse slipped out in a tone that was both refined and composed, catching Joon-jae off guard. For a moment, he thought he’d misheard and blinked in confusion. But Junghoon’s gentle smile remained.

“T-this is a misunderstanding… Yeonhee and I… we’re not… there’s nothing between us…”

He stammered, desperate to explain himself for Yeonhee’s sake.

From the moment Junghoon approached, Joon-jae had already realized who he was—the Min Junghoon Yeonhee had mentioned. And knowing how much Yeonhee cared for him, Joon-jae had been trying his best to clear up any misunderstandings.

He wanted to say that he and Yeonhee were just friends, that there was nothing for him to misinterpret about her.

But facing Junghoon’s intense, twisted gaze, Joon-jae felt like a mouse cornered by a snake. Words wouldn’t come out properly, and a cold chill ran down the back of his neck.

Junghoon tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes boring into Joon-jae’s. The leisurely smile remained on his lips.

“I’m not in any kind of relationship with Yeonhee, either.”

“……”

“But… did I ask you about that?”

His mocking voice carried an air of suffocating intimidation.

At that moment, Yeonhee arrived behind them. Junghoon walked past the frozen Joon-jae and pulled Yeonhee to his side. Though his grip on her shoulder might have seemed gentle, it was firm, almost possessive, as if he was staking his claim.

Yeonhee turned to Joon-jae and spoke quickly.

“Joon-jae, I’m sorry. I need to talk with Junghoon… I mean, the team leader, for a bit.”

She didn’t even dare ask him to wait. Joon-jae nodded awkwardly, his face still full of confusion.

“Oh… okay. But are you… are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

With that, Yeonhee moved toward the elevator, practically being led by Junghoon. Just before the doors closed, she looked back at Joon-jae, her eyes silently conveying her feelings.

I’ll contact you later. I’m so, so sorry.

“Yeonhee, be careful—”

Joon-jae called out, but his words were swallowed as the elevator doors shut. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm unsettling.

It was strange. Normally, he would have shouted, Who the hell are you? and confronted Junghoon. Maybe even grabbed him by the collar and demanded to know why he was acting like this. But tonight, he couldn’t do anything. Junghoon hadn’t even shown any real violence, yet Joon-jae found himself completely immobilized.

…Will Yeonhee really be okay…?

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Joon-jae hurried to the elevator and pressed the button, as if he might still catch up.

That’s when he heard a sigh behind him.

“So, you got left out in the cold, too, huh?”

It was Chankyung, who had been awkwardly standing behind Junghoon earlier. Chankyung muttered to himself, “Ugh… I haven’t even eaten yet…” before patting Joon-jae on the shoulder.

It seemed to mean, “You’re really going through a lot, getting caught up in my troublesome friend Junghoon’s mess.”

“You’re the friend of the woman who was here earlier, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Park Chankyung. The guy who just went downstairs is my friend.”

Chankyung fumbled through his wallet and pulled out his business card.

<Jusan Group – Finance Division Director, Park Chankyung>

Joon-jae’s eyes narrowed as he read the name on the card. Jusan Group was a fairly prominent company, and for someone who looked so young to already be a division director…

Joon-jae glanced at his discarded business card on the floor, then pulled out a fresh one and handed it to Chankyung. Holding the card, Chankyung smiled warmly.

“Oh… You must have a deep appreciation for art.”

Chankyung carefully placed Joon-jae’s card in his wallet. Then, patting the back of his neck, he spoke again.

“By the way, I’ve never seen Junghoon act like that before. Do you happen to know what’s going on?”

“No, not at all.”

Joon-jae had simply been having dinner with Yeonhee when Junghoon suddenly barged in. Clearly, there had been some sort of misunderstanding, and it seemed he had become the source of that misunderstanding. He had tried to explain himself, but all he got in return was a stream of curses. That was all.

Even in hindsight, it was baffling. He felt pathetic for not even being able to get angry in front of Junghoon. Thinking it was best for Yeonhee and Junghoon to resolve the issue themselves, he had let Yeonhee leave with him. But… was that really the right thing to do?

He wasn’t sure about his decision. Yeonhee, already struggling after leaving home, didn’t need this kind of trouble.

Joon-jae shook his head, scratching the back of his neck with a sigh.

The car was filled with silence.

After abruptly dragging Yeonhee along, Junghoon drove aggressively, arriving at the riverside of the Han River. Even after parking, Junghoon didn’t say a word for a while. He simply gripped the steering wheel tightly, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

Outside the car, the Han River looked beautiful. The lights of the night swayed gently along the water. But while the view outside appeared peaceful, the inside of the car was cold and tense, like a block of ice.

Yeonhee cautiously turned her head, intending to say something. She was met with Junghoon’s emotionless face staring at her.

His voice, cold and sharp, broke the silence.

“So… he’s the director of Cheongyeong Art Museum.”

“Yes.”

Guessing he was asking about Joon-jae, she quietly confirmed.

“Must be the son of some rich family.”

Unintentionally, Yeonhee nodded. It was true that Joon-jae came from wealth. Junghoon’s smile twisted into something malicious.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“I had my reasons.”

“What reasons? Meeting that bastard? Was that such an important reason?”

His voice was laced with sarcasm, a tone so unlike him.

“Well… it’s not…”

Junghoon leaned in, one arm draped over the back of Yeonhee’s seat, looking down at her with an oppressive gaze.

“So, as long as they’re rich, it doesn’t matter who it is? I didn’t know that about you. You never even used the card I gave you, so I didn’t think you’d be like this.”

“…What?”

“If you didn’t like the card, you could’ve just said so. I could’ve given you cash instead.”

It took Yeonhee a moment to process what he meant. But when the implication behind his words hit her, her face flushed red with shame.

He was treating her like some cheap fling. The feelings that had driven her to stay by his side, even as a mere sexual partner, were being trampled on. And he was doing it with words that were cruelly violent and unbearably degrading.

Junghoon raised the corners of his mouth as he looked at Yeonhee, who seemed on the verge of tears.

“You said you liked me. Said you loved me. I didn’t realize your confession was so cheap.”

He brushed her trembling lips with his thumb and asked,

“How many times did you confess with this pretty little mouth? Huh? Where do I rank on that list?”

Yeonhee shook her head, her throat tightening, and clutched at his clothes with a bewildered expression. Every sharp word he threw at her pierced her heart, stirring up indescribable emotions.

“No, no, Team Leader, that’s not it…”

But why was she making excuses? Why was she trying to justify herself for something that wasn’t her fault? Why was she feeling ashamed for something that wasn’t a flaw?

She couldn’t even figure out where to start explaining.
Should she begin by talking about her relationship with her mother? Or mention the fight that happened a few days ago? Or should she just blurt out the fact that she’d left home?

Junghoon slowly lowered his gaze to her hands. Her pale, slender fingers clung to him desperately, so tight that her knuckles stood out.

With a flick, he removed her hands, as if shaking off something dirty.

“Yeonhee, do you really think you can be with someone like him?”

“...”

“Know your place.”

His words fell like stones onto Yeonhee’s hands, which now lay limp in her lap.

Junghoon’s face remained indifferent as he hurled those cruel words. His beautiful, shining eyes were as emotionless as glass, reflecting nothing but cold apathy.

A man so brutally selfish and heartless, capable of wounding others without a hint of remorse.

Yeonhee lowered her gaze, staring silently at her own hands, which he had brushed away.
“Know your place.”
The words echoed in her mind, ringing loudly in her ears. Her hands, resting weakly on her thighs, trembled uncontrollably.

What is my place? Why can’t I be with him?
She didn’t even know what emotion was surging through her. Was it anger? Sadness? Or despair?

Junghoon lightly gripped her chin, forcing her to lift her bowed head. Her face, now raised against her will, was streaked with tears.

Looking at her tear-streaked face, illuminated by the night lights outside, Junghoon asked in a cold, detached voice,

“Do you think he’ll take you seriously?”

“...”

Yeonhee silently wiped her tears, then slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze. Standing before her was still the man she loved—a man so breathtakingly beautiful it hurt. Her arrogant, cruel, yet captivating love.

With a heart crumbling into pieces, Yeonhee steadied herself and answered softly,

“Ah… Just like you were never sincere with me?”

“…What?”

His eyes wavered, as though caught off guard.

Yeonhee laughed as she cried. Her trembling lips forced themselves into a faint smile, though the corners kept threatening to fall. She looked at him steadily, tears slipping down her cheeks without blinking.

Junghoon, perhaps a little shaken, opened his mouth as if to speak but then closed it again. After a moment, he muttered a curse under his breath, letting out a bitter laugh. Taking a deep breath, it seemed like he was trying to regain control of his temper.

Letting out a long exhale, Junghoon smiled leisurely, just as he always did.

“I went too far with my words, Yeonhee.”

He looked at her, her face still devoid of expression. After a long silence, the anger he had been trying to suppress flared up again, and he clenched his teeth.

In truth, controlling his emotions had never been his strong suit.

His voice came out low and gravelly, scraping like broken glass.

“Damn it, I should’ve known better than to let this pathetic mess happen in a hotel in the first place.”

“......”

His voice, usually elegant, now spat out nothing but vulgar words.

Yeonhee exhaled with difficulty and eventually closed her eyes, trying to avoid his relentless gaze. Every time his sharp eyes met hers, it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Why? Did that bastard want to sleep with you? What were you planning to do after dinner at that hotel?”

“It was just... really, just dinner. Just...”

Her voice faltered, resigned.

She was exhausted from making excuses, and even explaining felt pointless. She felt like she had been thrown into an unfamiliar place, left with nothing but her bare body. She was endlessly frightened and cold.

“There were circumstances. I didn’t mean to ignore you, Junghoon. I really didn’t. I’m sorry...”

Now, she understood.

The arrogant and accomplished Team Leader Min Junghoon had become furious just because she had avoided his calls and ignored him, even though he was just a sex partner to her—a woman like her, who didn’t know her place.

His pride had been hurt just by the fact that she was meeting someone else. Even though he had trampled on her pride countless times, this one time, it seemed to have broken him.

Yeonhee shook her head, repeating the same words.

I’m sorry... I’m sorry. I never meant to ignore you... I really had my reasons... Jun-jae and I are absolutely not like that...

Her voice echoed in the empty car, sounding like an instinctive, habitual murmur.

She whispered, her heart dry and cracked. Speaking didn’t feel like her choice; it felt as if someone beyond the walls was speaking for her.

Junghoon listened silently to Yeonhee’s rambling, almost like a sleepwalker. Then, when the sound of a car horn blared suddenly outside, like a warning, he sighed heavily and stepped out of the car.

Thud! The metal door slammed shut with a harsh sound, echoing coldly. Yeonhee remained in the car, staring outside with blurry eyes. She saw Junghoon standing by the hood, roughly running his hand through his hair.

He seemed to be swallowing his anger, nervously tousling his hair a few times before taking several deep breaths. Then, after staring at the river flowing calmly for a while, he returned to the car.

As he sat back in the driver’s seat, a cold breeze swept in.

Junghoon placed his hands on the steering wheel, tapping it lightly a few times. Then, turning to Yeonhee, he spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.

“Alright, Yeonhee. Honestly, I don’t fully understand why you went that far with your friend, but... I’ll trust you for now. You don’t lie to me.”

“Thank you.”

Yeonhee replied automatically, not even knowing what she was thanking him for. Junghoon reached out and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. The warmth of his touch made her shoulders stiffen, strangely uncomfortable.

“Honestly, I shouldn’t be angry. Right?”

“Yes...”

We’re not anything. As long as you don’t touch your precious pride, it’s none of your business who I meet or what kind of night I have. Yeonhee nodded faintly, her face clouded.

Junghoon started the car and pressed the accelerator. Since the situation seemed to have calmed down, it seemed like he was ready to head back.

As he turned the wheel towards the road, without looking at her, he continued.

“I shouldn’t be angry, Yeonhee. But don’t put me in a situation like this again. It really pisses me off.”

“......”

This time, she couldn’t even bring herself to respond.

Under his sleeve, she could see a cold metal watch, gleaming as it reflected the light from the street lamps they passed.

Come to think of it, Deputy Manager Kwon had said that the price of that watch was double the annual salary of a regular employee.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. It was the car she had once been so sick of, the car that had once been so suffocating. It was the car that was supposed to be cozy and comfortable, but now it felt like a sealed space, and her breath became labored. She turned her head and gazed out the window, struggling to catch her breath.

The reason she left home in the first place was because of money. Her mother had asked her to pay a loan. It wasn’t even much, just a few million won—barely a fraction of her annual salary.

She had left home, crying, because it was too difficult to pay. Unable to even go to the cramped goshiwon, she had ended up at a motel. Then, when Jun-jae had called, she had excitedly rushed out.

The money was nothing compared to the watches Junghoon changed depending on his mood.

What was she doing? What was she struggling for, living so hard like this?

It felt like the reality was choking her.

Yeonhee closed her eyes. The car sped through the dark night like an abyss.

“Be careful on your way.”

“Yes. Go ahead, Junghoon.”

Standing in front of the apartment—no, the apartment that had been hers—Yeonhee waved her hand. Junghoon had asked her to come to his place, but she shook her head, saying she didn’t want to tonight.

Without asking anything, he dropped her off in front of her parents’ house, but Yeonhee didn’t even offer the excuse, “I left home.”

It all felt pointless. She was just tired.

“I’ll wait until I see you go up.”

He smiled softly and kissed her on the cheek. The kiss, so natural, felt like it had happened a year ago. But it had only been thirty minutes.

He always treated things between them lightly, like a trivial matter. The moment he turned his back, it was like nothing had happened at all.

And so, she was always the one who got hurt. She was the only one who felt pain.

Yeonhee stood in front of the apartment building’s entrance, shaking her head.

“I’ll wait to see you leave. I want to do it that way tonight.”

Now, there was no more sadness, but another tear fell. It was strange.

Junghoon, who had waved her off with a smile, suddenly stiffened his expression. He wiped the tear from her cheek, then bent down and looked into her eyes kindly, as if consoling a child.

“Why are you crying again? Did my words upset you?”

“......”

“Forget it. You’re good at forgetting things, right, Yeonhee?”

Another tear fell from Yeonhee’s eye.

“...That’s right. I’m good at forgetting things. ...I’m good at it, Junghoon.”

At her tearful words, Junghoon smiled as if satisfied.

Yeonhee pushed him away. She slowly pushed him back, signaling it was time for him to go.

Junghoon, with an unsatisfied expression, moved toward the car and got in.

“Sleep well.”

He said the gentle words and left.

After his silver sedan left the apartment complex, Yeonhee stood still for a while, staring blankly at the spot where he had been. She kept looking at the space where he had disappeared, as if his afterimage still lingered. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

A cold breeze blew from somewhere. Yeonhee wrapped her arms around her shoulders and silently looked up. Her mom, dad, and brother. The three of them, excluding her, were probably having a warm and happy night together.

She lowered her gaze and took a step. Quietly, she left the apartment complex.

This was not a place for her. Whether she went to the hotel Jun-jae had booked, or another motel, or even slept on the street—either way, it wasn’t here.

Her steps felt heavy. With every step, foolish regrets seemed to cling to her.

The night air was cold, and her body and heart were cold.

With each step, tears fell one by one. The water ran down her emotionless cheek. The heavy heart flowed out, sticking to her like a shadow.

Shaking it off, Yeonhee continued to walk.

Min Junghoon. Min Junghoon...

It was something she had always known. She knew how he thought of her.

It was something she had initially ignored. The fact that their relationship was so one-sided and shallow.

It was foolish to be hurt by it again. It was her own mistake to have expectations from someone she shouldn’t have expected anything from. Even being hurt by him was her own choice. Her pride, trampled and shattered like dust, was something she had brought upon herself.

She shouldn’t resent him, nor should she hate him. It was all because of her own poor choices. But…

“Huuuh...”

Wandering on the cold street, Yeonhee, who had been quietly crying, finally burst into sobs.

‘Clueless.’

It was a phrase she had muttered to herself over and over again. How foolish she was, to be so hurt by hearing those words from him instead of herself.

“Huk, huk... hhh...”

Like a lost child, Yeonhee cried and cried. It felt like a sharp hook had been pierced into her heart. The more she tried to pull it out, the deeper it dug, tearing open her wound.

He had always been a cruel weapon to her.

‘Why is it that all I have are people who wield love like a weapon, trying to control me?’

Her mother had done it, and Junghoon did it too. What was it about her that made them think it was okay to trample and discard her like this?

Was she nothing but someone they could throw away carelessly? Was she only meant to become smaller and more insignificant by their side?

Min Junghoon. From the beginning, he and she were like the river and the sea—unable to mix.

Loving him had been her own choice, so she never expected anything in return. But…

But he shouldn’t have repaid the love she sent with malice. He shouldn’t have torn apart the love she carefully folded and thrown it at her feet.

If he had treated her even a little bit sincerely... he should never have done that.

Junghoon, who didn’t even know when he was hurting her, who didn’t realize the pain he caused, was no longer the person she loved.

His blue eyes, pouring out with disdain, no longer belonged to her Junghoon.

Drip, drip. A single tear fell onto the fragile surface of the glass, where emotions had gathered precariously, beginning to overflow.

Everything was overwhelming. Her mother’s verbal abuse. His verbal abuse. Everything that hurt her felt like too much to bear.

Yeonhee tilted the glass, sending all her feelings spilling onto the street.

Now, she was fully prepared to let him go.