RB - 23

23. Repentance, Opportunity, and Expectation

Seo-yeon rubbed her dry, tired eyes with her hands. Though the tension hadn’t fully dissipated yet, perhaps it was because they were at Café R’amant—or maybe Ethan’s perceptiveness had put her at ease—that she suddenly felt drained. At the same time, the pain she had momentarily forgotten returned in full force.

“Haa… It really hurts.”

Seo-yeon gently touched her cheek. It wasn’t an intentional move to stir guilt in the other person; it was a reflexive response to the throbbing pain. But the effect was undeniable.

“It hurts? Does it hurt?”

When Myeong-soo’s wife, Hyeon-ae, asked this obvious question, Seo-yeon countered with one of her own.

“I heard you knew my name, but I don’t know yours. What should I call you?”

“…Hyeon-ae. Kim Hyeon-ae.”

After the awkward exchange of names, Seo-yeon closed her eyes and began carefully piecing together the events that had unfolded so far. 

While it was true that Shin Jin-hyuk had deceived Hyeon-ae, this wasn’t the whole story. Someone else’s machinations were also at play here. 

The person who had reported the assault incident from the company dinner to the audit team was likely Assistant Manager Kim Min-a. And instead of framing it as “assault,” Kim Min-a had falsely reported it as “adultery.” Ironically, it turned out that HR Manager Ko Myeong-soo was actually having an affair within the company. 

As Seo-yeon connected the dots, she muttered under her breath in a fierce tone:

“Ko Myeong-soo, you filthy bastard. You tried to use me to cover up your real affair.”

At the mention of her husband’s name, Hyeon-ae’s shoulders trembled faintly. While Hyeon-ae hesitated, glancing around nervously, Seo-yeon spoke again.

“Hyeon-ae, in this dirty mess, the victims are you and me. To put it simply, we’re on the same side.”

“What do you mean? …No, what are you saying?”

Just as confusion began to cloud Hyeon-ae’s face, Ethan arrived with their iced Americanos. His gaze lingered on Seo-yeon’s still-red cheek. Running his fingers casually through his trademark silver hair, he asked in his characteristic playful tone:

“Should I call the boss for you?”

Seo-yeon, of course, knew exactly why Ethan was asking. She smirked slightly, prompting him to add:

“If our boss finds out his girlfriend got slapped like this, he’s going to lose it.”

Pausing mid-sentence, Ethan turned his gaze toward Hyeon-ae and continued:

“Be careful. Our boss is strong, rich, and has plenty of time on his hands. He’s merciless—like a beast. Grrr.”

For a moment, Ethan’s eyes took on a feral gleam.

Deciding that Ethan had done enough, Seo-yeon gave him a look that said, “You can leave now.” But ignoring her silent plea, Ethan added one last comment before sticking out his tongue and disappearing.

“Oh, and one more thing I forgot to mention: our boss is insanely handsome. Ma’am, you know what I mean, right?”

Hyeon-ae could only blink in stunned silence. Watching her anxious expression, Seo-yeon slowly sipped her drink. The calmness reflected in Seo-yeon’s dark pupils pressed down on Hyeon-ae like an oppressive weight, and unconsciously, she licked her dry lips. She knew it was time to apologize, but she feared that the moment she opened her mouth, tears would spill uncontrollably.

Clack. The clear sound of a glass sliding across the marble table jolted their senses.

“Drink your coffee, Hyeon-ae. I ordered it for you.”

Though a whirlwind of emotions churned inside Seo-yeon, strangely enough, the most prominent one was pity. 

Hyeon-ae glanced around with teary eyes, and the sight of her made Seo-yeon’s lingering resentment almost vanish completely. 

Pity was an incredibly effective tool for softening hearts, and Seo-yeon, in particular, had no immunity to it. 

Biting her lip, Seo-yeon brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulder. Then, Hyeon-ae’s sobbing erupted—harsher and colder than the chill of the iced Americano.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was wrong… huuuhhh.”

Caught slightly off guard, Seo-yeon pushed a napkin toward Hyeon-ae.

“Don’t cry. I think I’m the one who should be crying right now.”

Hyeon-ae grabbed the napkin next to her Americano and wiped at her eyes frantically. She looked pitiful and small.

Whoever said women are each other’s enemies clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. 

Moved by pity for Hyeon-ae, who was probably close to her older sister’s age, Seo-yeon found herself blurting out words that weren’t entirely sincere. It was a slip of the tongue born from the overwhelming power of compassion overriding her rationality.

“You must have had your reasons. I understand everything… oh?”

Bullshit, she didn’t understand everything—but somehow, the words tumbled out impulsively. Perhaps it was Ethan’s unwavering support—his steady gaze silently promising, “If anything happens, I’ll be there for you”—that softened her heart and loosened her tongue.

At that very moment, Ethan finished typing the last sentence of a text message and sent it to Jung-hyuk.

—Han Seo-yeon, adultery drama, slapped cheek, perpetrator tearfully apologizing… Which is more urgent right now? The shareholders’ meeting or love? Let’s see what the boss chooses.

Ethan curled his lips into a mischievous grin.

Jung-hyuk, currently attending the emergency shareholders’ meeting, was about to get a taste of karma. This was the employee’s revenge on the uncommitted café owner who only showed up to work on days he dropped off his girlfriend. 

Meanwhile, prompted by Seo-yeon’s request to tell the truth, Hyeon-ae sighed sorrowfully and began recounting everything that had happened. 

Was there some truth serum in the Americano? Or maybe she just desperately wanted someone to hear her out. Whatever the case, Hyeon-ae felt an overwhelming urge to pour out her heart.

“I have a child… a daughter in elementary school…”

The typical story of domestic strife poured out of Hyeon-ae: her husband’s violence, his refusal to provide living expenses, the discovery of receipts for luxury bags in his belongings, the increasing number of business trips and overnight stays, and so on.

“Ah, I see. That must have been tough.”

Seo-yeon nodded earnestly, letting out a sympathetic sigh and offering an active response. This only made Hyeon-ae’s sorrow swell further.

The clichéd yet cruel narrative of marital discord concluded with Hyeon-ae saying, “That’s why I developed depression.” No matter how you looked at it, HR Manager Ko Myeong-soo was irredeemable trash—as a boss, as a husband, and as a father.

After listening intently, Seo-yeon cautiously asked:

“I’m not a divorce lawyer, but… have you ever thought about getting a divorce?”

Hyeon-ae took a large gulp of her Americano before lamenting:

“I’ve brought it up a few times, but he insists he’s not the guilty party… And he’s so meticulous about managing his phone that I don’t have any evidence. He probably just needs a woman who’ll handle the household and raise the child while giving him the bare minimum for living expenses.”

“I’ve heard that divorce cases are all about evidence. It’s truly unfortunate.”

Seo-yeon tilted her head, lost in thought once again. 

Shin Jin-hyuk already knew about HR Manager Ko Myeong-soo’s affair? That meant Jin-hyuk surely knew the identity of the real affair partner. Seo-yeon’s sharp gaze darted toward Hyeon-ae.

What had begun as a melodramatic tragedy was now shifting into a thriller.

“Hyeon-ae, would you like me to help you? Of course, with good intentions.”

Good intentions—a commendable yet somewhat old-fashioned phrase.

Regret from years of life flickered rapidly through the fine wrinkles on Hyeon-ae’s face. She spoke in a weak voice:

“I’ve lived more days than you, Seo-yeon. I’ve trusted many people, been betrayed, and been disappointed countless times. So I know… Good intentions don’t exist in this world.”

Seo-yeon calmly met her despairing gaze and spoke with certainty:

“You can trust my good intentions because they’re backed by revenge. Let’s call it mutual aid—good intentions with a reason.”

Meanwhile, intermittent flashes lit up her phone screen with Jin-hyuk’s desperate texts:

—Where are you, Miss Han? 

—I beg you, contact me. I’ll explain everything. 

—I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. 

Hyeon-ae sat there, bowing her head apologetically, while Jin-hyuk pleaded for forgiveness. Both offenders were now seeking leniency side by side.

Seo-yeon traced the condensation on her glass with her index finger and said:

“I don’t believe in fate or destiny, but maybe just this once, I’ll give it a try.”

“…What? What do you mean?”

Instead of answering the cryptic remark, Seo-yeon made a phone call. As soon as the dial tone rang, Jin-hyuk picked up immediately.

“Miss Han, where are you? I’ll come to you.”

“Jin-hyuk, do you admit you made a mistake with me?”

“Yes, Miss Han. I’ll explain everything. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jin-hyuk’s desperation came through clearly in his trembling voice. His frantic plea worked. And so, Seo-yeon decided to give both offenders—the creators of today’s tragedy—a chance to repent.

For Hyeon-ae, it could be salvation. For Jin-hyuk, it might be punishment. For Seo-yeon herself, it was a calculated decision—an opportunity for revenge.

“Jin-hyuk, come to Café R’amant. Right now.”

Within minutes, the door to Café R’amant swung open. The sweat-soaked shirt Jin-hyuk wore testified to how urgently he had rushed over in such a short time.

This is getting interesting. Ethan, who had been observing them closely, sent another text:

—He’s here. The guy who came to the café before and scared me—the one related to Hyung.

Jin-hyuk sat beside Seo-yeon, carefully gauging her expression, but to his surprise, she didn’t look angry. A faint glimmer of hope began to spread through his heart.