The Butler and the Cat

Juhee kept her head turned for a long moment. The cheek he had slapped still burned, throbbing as though something had raked across it.

After drawing several steady breaths, she finally looked back. There stood a woman, huffing with fury. Delicate features, milky skin without a single flaw, a small, slender body with not an ounce of fat.

It was Hwayeon—the woman Juhee called mother—who appeared without warning, flipped the entire household upside down, then vanished like a gust of wind.

“You ungrateful little bitch. Who said you could sell the house?”

The real estate agent had neither Hwayeon’s contact information nor any reason to call her. So how had she found out?

Pressing the back of her hand to her flushed cheek, Juhee answered calmly.

“It’s my house. I can do whatever I want with it.”

“How is it your house? Technically it’s mine, and you stole it!”

“Have you forgotten again already? Grandmother said she was removing a daughter who never acted like one from the family register and leaving everything to her precious granddaughter. You told her yourself that you didn’t need this pathetic house.”

“T-that was—!”

“Then you should have treated Grandmother better.”

Juhee continued in an indifferent tone to Hwayeon, who could only bite her lip in humiliated rage.

“If the inheritance tempts you that much, just live longer than me. I have no plans to marry or have children, so when I die I’ll leave you everything.”

“What a rude, ill-mannered wench!”

Hwayeon’s whole body shook as she raised her hand again, but Juhee had no intention of being struck twice. She caught Hwayeon’s wrist in midair.

She hadn’t heard from her in a while; it seemed another man had appeared. The ring on Hwayeon’s fourth finger sparkled with a cold, metallic gleam under the moonlight. That ring must have been what scratched her cheek.

“Let go of my hand!”

Hwayeon twisted and struggled, but Juhee held firm. As a child she had been too weak to resist the blows, yet now she was an adult. Though still small and not especially strong, she was no longer someone Hwayeon could overpower.

“Try hitting me one more time. I’ll return it exactly the same way.”

Juhee shoved the wrist away. Between the mother and daughter who had not seen each other in so long, there was no trace of affection—only murderous glares.

Clenching her fists until the knuckles whitened, Hwayeon broke the silence in a choked voice.

“It seems you’ve forgotten, but I’m your mother. A child shouldn’t treat her parent like this.”

“If you wanted me to act like a daughter, you should have acted like a mother first.”

“I must have been out of my mind to give birth to something like you and feed you seaweed soup.”

It was the same refrain Hwayeon recited every time she saw Juhee.

“Grandmother was the one who made that seaweed soup.”

“That damn grandmother, grandmother! I’m the one who carried you in my belly, the one who suffered through labor to birth you! The person you owe filial duty to isn’t my dead mother—it’s me!”

“That’s why I haven’t thrown you out.”

If the only motherly thing Hwayeon had ever done was give birth, then refusing to drive her away was Juhee’s version of being a daughter.

Flames kindled in Hwayeon’s eyes as she stared at Juhee, who didn’t so much as blink.

“Open your ears and listen well. I’m not leaving until you hand over the money from selling the house.”

Only then did Juhee notice the suitcase behind Hwayeon. She let out a thin sigh.

“Why are you doing this to me, of all people?”

“Aren’t you the one doing it? If you won’t act like a daughter, the least you can do is give me this house.”

“Mother, please.”

“Just feed me. I haven’t eaten dinner and I’m starving to death. I want that beef bulgogi hot pot you make, with some kkakdugi on the side.”

Hwayeon cut her off as though she could bear to hear no more, picked up her bag, and turned away again.

“You know I only eat Korean beef, right? Don’t bring me cheap imported stuff to save money. I can tell the difference the moment I taste it.”

Grinding her teeth, Juhee walked out of the house. If not for her grandmother’s dying wish that she at least treat her mother with basic decency, she would have thrown her out on the spot.

Hye-sun sat crouched against the wall. At the sound of the fierce argument drifting over from Juhee’s mother and daughter, a satisfied smile crept across her face.

“Serves her right.”

Even now, remembering how Juhee had lifted her chin and looked her straight in the eye made rage boil in her chest. If she was going to back down, she should have done it gracefully instead of throwing a tantrum.

“Shouldn’t an adult behave like one? You’re saying my son’s success is all thanks to you? Stop using him from now on?”

The more she chewed on the words, the more absurd they became. Who had used whom? The girl had done everything because she wanted to.

“And my cooking isn’t good enough? You’re done eating my leftovers now?”

Long ago she had been unable to refuse when her son said he wanted to share meals with the girl next door.

Her picky son always left food on his plate, and Hye-sun herself was not a big eater. Throwing away the leftovers every time felt wasteful, so she decided to treat it as charity. She would pack the remaining food and send her son next door with it.

After a little over a week, the child came to thank them. She was surprisingly capable for her age. Unlike her blunt son, she spoke sweetly and brimmed with charm. She was also quick-witted—if she saw Hye-sun about to do a chore, she would dart forward and finish it first.

Those small hands were astonishingly skillful. She was far better at cooking and housework than Hye-sun. When she grew a little older she took part-time jobs and even handed over her allowance. To Hye-sun, Juhee had been an impossible child not to adore. When she entered a major corporation, Hye-sun had even considered her as a future daughter-in-law.

But that was ancient history.

“I made seaweed soup with meat for her every single birthday. In my day, women couldn’t even dream of eating meat. The men took the meat and the seaweed; we were lucky if we got to eat rice soaked in the leftover broth.”

Hye-sun had given her plenty of meat, too. She had used pork instead of expensive beef, so the flavor was a little strange, but still. She was the one who had played the role of parent while Hwayeon showed zero interest in motherhood. Therefore, no matter how coldly her son treated her, Juhee had no right to speak to her that way.

“If she had any conscience at all, she would have stepped back on her own.”

The gap between Juhee and her son now was like the distance between heaven and earth. A mere secretary could not compare to a son who would soon stand higher than an executive director.

What infuriated her most was something else entirely. She had called her son because she felt so wronged, only to be scolded in return.

Her son’s sigh that treated her like a nuisance.

She could not talk back to her son, but she had to release her anger somehow. That was when she thought of Hwayeon.

“Aigoo, aigoo.”

Groans escaped Hye-sun as she rose from her crouch. Her knees, her back—there was no part of her that did not ache.

Let’s see her whine when she meets her rich future daughter-in-law.

“Yes, no matter how you look at it, Juhee won’t do. Our Haena is the true daughter-in-law.”

Her son was only returning out of a sense of responsibility toward Juhee. How much had that girl bragged about the money she had contributed? Yet what had she herself ever received? If not for Hye-sun, Juhee could never have grown up so well.

“If we’re keeping score, it’s thanks to me that Juhee even got into Seohwa Motors.”

Therefore she had no reason to feel guilty.

“My son takes after me and is too kind. That’s his only flaw.”

Opening the front door and stepping inside, Hye-sun made a firm vow. Once the wedding was over, she would go on a hunger strike if necessary to prevent any talk of divorce.

It was five in the morning when she reached Jeha’s house. Juhee entered the familiar passcode and stepped inside. Gazing at the Han River view visible beyond the sports cars displayed like museum pieces, she muttered.

“Quite the expensive Han River view.”

If the house sold, she would probably need to rent something nearby. It would be costly. Since there were so many rooms, perhaps she could ask for one and live like a transparent ghost. After wandering once around the house that felt as vast as a soccer field, she somehow found herself standing in front of Jeha’s bedroom.

She knocked and called out, but there was no answer.

Only then did Juhee open the door. With a faint look of resignation, she approached the bed.

Just as he had the day before, Jeha lay sleeping with his upper body bare. No matter how often she saw it, he was a man who delighted the eyes in any situation.

The first perk of her three-month contract position.

Having reached a conclusion that bordered on self-consolation, Juhee called his name.

“Director.”

“……”

“Director Yoon Jeha?”

She bent at the waist and spoke directly beside his ear, yet Jeha remained completely motionless.

At this point she was curious. Had he drunk too much again last night, or was he simply a heavy sleeper?

Still, Juhee was not the type to give up. She had prepared tools from home in case of exactly this situation. She pulled a pair of thick kitchen gloves from her bag, slipped them on, and poked his broad shoulder.

“Director, you need to wake up.”

Still nothing? This time she grasped his shoulder and shook it gently. Only then did Jeha slowly lift his heavy eyelids.

Beneath half-raised lids, his eyes were lazily unfocused. He stared at her for a long time, as though his sleep-fogged brain was trying to process the situation.

“……You again?”

“Yes, it’s me again.”

His gaze fell on the kitchen gloves she wore and his brow furrowed.

“Don’t tell me you woke me with those.”

“You told me not to touch you. I couldn’t very well kick you awake.”

“……”

“Did it offend you?”

Instead of answering, Jeha closed his eyes again. When Juhee reluctantly reached out once more with her gloved hand, his eyes flew open with frightening intensity.

“Didn’t you hear it from Manager Han? I’m extremely sensitive to every one of my five senses.”

She had memorized nearly ten pages of information on Yoon Jeha, but none of it had mentioned that. Feeling somewhat wronged, Juhee answered evenly.

“I’ll remember it this time.”

Jeha’s gaze returned to the gloves on her hands.

“If you touch my body with those again, the rough texture nearly made me throw a punch.”

Hands were forbidden. Objects were forbidden. Then how exactly was she supposed to wake him?

“Then please instruct me, Director. If you tell me what kind of texture is acceptable…”

“Why ask me? A competent secretary should figure it out herself.”

Should she simply dump cold water on him and quit? As she entertained that vicious thought she could never act upon, Jeha—his face dangerously languid—spoke as though granting her a favor.

“Shall I teach you how to wake me?”

Wariness rose like thorns inside Juhee’s chest. Leaning back with his upper body exposed, gazing up at her, Jeha looked exactly like a scene easily misunderstood. Any woman who didn’t know him would think he was trying to seduce her.

Jeha sent Juhee a message.

Juhee hesitated, then looked at her phone. A video message had arrived. It showed a cat that had climbed onto the bed, burrowing into the arms of a sleeping butler. More precisely, the butler waking groggily as the cat stroked his face with its front paw and licked his lips.

Why send this to me?

When Jeha lifted the sheet covering him from the waist down, Juhee’s face drained of all color.

Oh God. She finally understood why he had sent the video.

The cat was Juhee. The butler was Jeha. In other words, he was telling her to wake him exactly like that cat.

“What are you waiting for?”

The moment she saw his annoyingly casual face, Juhee understood. There was a reason Jeha had so easily granted her three months.

It was neither because her sincerity had moved him nor because he wished to give her a chance. Since he could not refuse because of Chairman Yang, he intended to make things so unbearable that she would quit on her own.

Part of her wanted to spit that it was dirty and cheap and that she quit. It felt pathetic that she had to play the role of a cat just to remain Yoon Jeha’s secretary.

At Juhee’s silence, Jeha spoke as though he had been waiting for exactly that.

“Can’t do it? Then quit.”

Juhee drew a deep breath. She bit down hard on her lower lip and closed her eyes. The scene rose vividly before her.

Han Taemin and Joo Haena tangled together in the office, lost in passion. Taemin’s eyes consumed by lust. Haena’s eyes gleaming with mockery and the thrill of victory.

When Juhee opened her eyes again, her voice was far calmer.

“There is no way I cannot do it.”

Jeha’s narrowed eyes slowly widened.

Juhee peeled off the gloves she wore and began unfastening the buttons of the jacket she had kept tightly closed.