That Night
With both hands shoved deep into his pants pockets, Jeha took one step back, his face the very picture of a man who had just heard something unimaginable.
A fleeting silence passed before he spoke.
“Why.”
The curt, stripped-down response left Juhee momentarily flustered, but she answered in a calm, measured voice.
“I was the one who said that if I lost the drinking bet, I would disappear cleanly right before your eyes, Representative. Since I lost, I must keep my promise.”
“You’re quitting over something that trivial?”
“Yes.”
Jeha tilted his head back as if the back of his skull had tightened, then looked forward again.
“Listen, Secretary Gong.”
“Yes, Representative.”
“Is that really all you have to say to me?”
“Yes, Representative.”
Jeha muttered with an expression of pure disbelief. It was like talking to an automated answering machine.
He seemed more than a little angry.
She had answered when he called her and answered when he asked a question—what exactly did he expect her to do? When Juhee simply pressed her lips together, Jeha gave a crooked smile.
“It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing I should be hearing from the woman I spent last night with. Hypocritical, I suppose.”
The emotions that surged inside her were fierce, but Juhee barely managed to swallow them down.
Part of her wanted to demand an answer. What exactly do you want from me? Even though she had lost the bet and given him her first time, did he expect her to cling to him in a pathetic manner? If so, why didn’t he just stop acting so twisted and simply tell her to stay by his side? Why was she always the one who had to bend, always the one forced to act miserable?
With great effort, Juhee swallowed the burning lump in her throat and slowly moved her trembling lips.
“The night you remember, Representative… I don’t remember it at all.”
Jeha looked completely stunned.
“The last memory I have is taking your hand and leaving the room, Representative.”
Having said it out loud, Juhee felt a wave of embarrassment and bit down hard on the soft flesh inside her mouth. She was ashamed of herself for suggesting the drinking bet in the first place and then blacking out. It felt like a newborn puppy that had charged at a tiger without knowing any better and ended up getting devoured. If there were a mouse hole nearby, she would have crawled into it without hesitation.
But there was no mouse hole in this vast executive office. The only desperate thought filling her mind was how much she wanted to escape this office—how much she wanted to escape from Yoon Jeha.
“I’m sorry for everything up until now, and I’m grateful. I’ll make sure to complete a proper handover so there’s no disruption to your work.”
She gave a light bow, turned on her heel, and walked out of the office. Jeha didn’t move a single inch until the door had closed behind her.
The night you remember, Representative… I don’t remember it at all.
Those words kept echoing in his ears, refusing to let him think straight.
He irritably swept his hair back, then let out a hollow laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.
“Ha…”
That night had been so dazzling it felt permanently etched into his brain. He still remembered it with vivid clarity. Her eyes had been hazy with pleasure, her delicate skin trembling at every wicked stimulus. When her usually composed voice became drenched in arousal, it would thin out into a seductive, drawn-out moan. Her pale, slender body had melted as it rode wave after wave of ecstasy, and the intoxicating scent rising from her skin had been sweet enough to dissolve his mind.
Even now, just thinking about it made his head spin. It had been an unforgettable night.
And yet Gong Juhee claimed she didn’t remember any of it.
She was going to leave his side over something as insignificant as losing a drinking bet.
After driving him completely insane.
When he pictured her leaving with that calm expression and those indifferent words, as if nothing of importance had happened, the feeling went beyond indignation and straight into irritation.
Jeha slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. A tangle of emotions swirled in his dark gaze.
“What is she, some kind of contrary frog?”
When he had tried to push her away, she had clung to him with desperate tenacity. Now that he wanted to keep her close, she suddenly wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do with a woman like that?
“If you were planning to come back home, you shouldn’t have stayed out all night.”
The icy voice from behind made Seok-ho flinch as he turned around. There stood his wife, Ju-ran, arms crossed and expression perfectly composed.
She should have been at the dermatology clinic at this hour. The sudden appearance of his wife made cold sweat trickle down Seok-ho’s spine—the guilty thief caught red-handed.
“You were home?”
“I had to wait for my husband who stayed out all night, didn’t I? Unlike some people, I don’t forget my duties. Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”
It was a warning: she would overlook this once, but he should abandon any foolish ideas and return to his proper place.
Even after her husband—who had never once spent a night away—sent her a message demanding a divorce, Ju-ran remained elegant and composed. As if it were nothing of consequence.
Unlike Seok-ho, whose life had been a constant storm since the moment they married, Ju-ran had remained unchanged. Appearances came first; he had always come second. When he complained that it was too difficult, her only response was that he should endure it. Though he sat in the director’s chair, it was nothing but an empty title. He was merely a puppet.
As if to prove it, she had ignored him completely until he found himself cornered, only then stepping into company management. There wasn’t a single piece of real estate in his name—everything was under hers.
And that wasn’t all. Even the credit card he used belonged to her. She acted as if she had no idea how deeply that wounded a man’s pride.
Was it any wonder he felt suffocated? What man could endure such a life?
The frog that tries to follow the stork ends up tearing its crotch. That was exactly the situation Seok-ho found himself in now.
He was exhausted. He was sick of it all. He would throw away this hollow director position and escape from this filthy chaebol family that treated him like less than a person.
He would live an ordinary, happy life with the woman who truly loved him, not the one he had once loved.
With Hwayeon—the woman who always listened to him, who looked at him as if he were her entire world, who accepted and embraced him exactly as he was, flaws and all.
Though he lacked skill in company management, Seok-ho had a natural talent for scheming.
He intended to secure alimony one way or another, but he had spent the past year preparing thoroughly in case it became a long-term battle.
Having firmed his resolve once more, Seok-ho spoke with a grave expression.
“Darling, let’s get a divorce.”
“You, who have done nothing right, are demanding a divorce?”
“I haven’t done anything right. And I have no confidence I’ll do better in the future. That’s why I’m saying we should end it. It’s hard for you, and it’s hard for me. I can’t keep doing this.”
“……”
“Yang Ju-ran, please let me go now. Please?”
When Ju-ran remained silent, Seok-ho let out a deep sigh.
“You can blame the entire reason for the divorce on me. All I want is to avoid any ugly fights, and for you to give me a reasonable amount of alimony.”
“……”
“I’ll be staying elsewhere. Think it over and contact me.”
Carrying only a suitcase with the bare minimum of belongings, Seok-ho walked past Ju-ran and left the house.
The moment he passed through the gate, he glanced back furtively, but the firmly closed front door showed no sign of opening.
Of course. You’re still the precious only daughter of the Seohwa Group, Yang Ju-ran.
Swallowing a bitter smile, Seok-ho got into a taxi.
“Director, can’t you just stay? Why are you quitting all of a sudden?”
The secretary team, unaware of the full story, looked devastated when Juhee told them today would be her last day. Just that morning they had been gushing about how the Representative’s looks, which surpassed even celebrities, were a form of company welfare.
Still, Juhee knew they found his prickly personality, unpredictable behavior, and overwhelming presence intimidating to deal with directly.
Our Representative is a beautiful stranger from afar, or so the saying went. The strange rumors had also spread because of how ruthlessly he had shaken up the executives.
“I’ve been working nonstop since I joined the company, so I think it’s time for a recharge. I want to rest properly, travel as much as I like, and have some free time for myself.”
When Juhee said this with a smile, no one could argue. Everyone in the company knew that since joining Seohwa Group, she had never taken a single proper day off except for official holidays.
“Even after I leave, if Seohwa Motors needs me, I’ll come back, so please wait for me.”
She said the words, but Juhee herself knew the truth. There would be no returning to this company she had grown attached to. She regretted suggesting the drinking bet when she should have known she would lose, but she quickly erased the thought. It was better to think about the future than waste time on regret.
Even after the rest of the secretary team left for the day, Juhee remained alone in the office. It wasn’t something she could finish in a single day, but since she had announced she would quit today, she needed to wrap things up properly.
It was past eight o’clock when she finally prepared to leave. The sound of the elevator arriving echoed through the hallway.
Maybe someone had forgotten something and come back. But contrary to her expectations, the person who appeared at the end of the corridor was Taemin.
“I knew you’d still be here. Let’s talk.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Then shall we talk right here? I don’t care where.”
She considered simply ignoring him, but quickly abandoned the idea.
Whether he was still drunk or had simply lost his mind, there was a slight madness in Taemin’s bloodshot eyes.
Juhee rose from her chair.
“Follow me.”
With the sound of his dress shoes trailing behind her, Juhee headed for the emergency exit.
It was close by, private, and quiet now that everyone had left—perfect for a conversation.
The moment they stepped into the emergency stairwell, Juhee turned to face him.
“If you have something to say, say it quickly.”
“You’re really quitting as Jeha’s secretary. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
Her short answer with no further explanation made Taemin sigh softly.
“After running into you at the hotel this morning, I thought about a lot of things. I regretted some of them too.”
When Juhee remained silent, Taemin continued.
“I admit I used any means necessary to succeed. I knew it could hurt you, which is why I didn’t discuss it with you beforehand.”
“……”
“I thought that if it was anyone else, they might not understand, but that you, Juhee, would understand me. But if I had known it would shock and hurt you that much, I never would have done it.”
Juhee’s gaze turned icy. She was dumbfounded by Taemin’s long-winded, belated excuses.
“Don’t treat your body so recklessly because of me. It hurts me to see you like this.”
His wildly delusional words were so ridiculous she couldn’t even laugh. She had said nothing, yet Taemin seemed to have misinterpreted her silence. His eyes and expression grew even more serious.
“If I admit I was wrong, will you come back to me?”
Juhee nearly burst out laughing.
How dare he say such a thing?
The audacity of trying to reset everything with just a few words made him seem utterly despicable.
She wanted to flip him off and walk away.
Instead, Juhee stared at him quietly for a moment before speaking in a calm voice.
“Tell me exactly what you mean by ‘come back.’”
“Become my secretary again, Juhee.”
Han Taemin clearly still hadn’t come to his senses.
Even if he got down on his knees and begged, she wouldn’t forgive him, and yet here he was—not proposing marriage, but asking her to be his secretary again.
“If I become your secretary again, are you going to break up with Haena?”
Taemin looked momentarily flustered by the unexpected question. But he quickly composed himself and answered.
“It’s not like I couldn’t break up with her.”
Juhee laughed coldly to herself.
If he truly wanted her back, if he genuinely sought her forgiveness, he should have ended things with Joo Haena first.
Not that she had any intention of forgiving or accepting him now.
Taemin had no plans to actually break up with Haena. He intended to go back and forth between them, taking whatever benefits he could get.
The Taemin who used to care for others and look at the bigger picture had become a thoroughly selfish man.
At this point, Juhee felt a tiny shred of gratitude toward Haena. If not for her, she might never have realized what kind of man he truly was and would have devoted her entire life to him.
Suppressing the whirlwind of emotions inside her, Juhee asked with feigned innocence.
“You’re really going to break up with Haena? You won’t marry her?”
“That’s right.”
“But Chairman Yang will be furious. He might even strip you of your executive position immediately. Are you sure that’s okay?”
“That’s why I can’t do it right away. I need to use my head and make Haena be the one to suggest calling off the marriage first.”
Taemin gave an awkward smile, his face stiff.
Even though Juhee could clearly see the true intentions hidden behind that smile, she simply smiled back sweetly.
Like the girl who had once known only that one boy long ago.
“Really? Then I’ll think about it.”
Taemin still hadn’t reflected on his mistakes. No—he didn’t even seem to understand what his mistakes were. And not only that, he was still underestimating her.
She wasn’t a dog that would come when called and leave when told to leave.
That was why she wanted this man, who still hadn’t come to his senses, to experience it for himself.
What it felt like to be betrayed by someone you trusted.
What it felt like when someone you assumed would always be there suddenly disappeared before your eyes.
Now that she thought about it, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. To settle everything and leave Korea behind.
“Weren’t you about to leave? Shall I give you a ride?”
Juhee smiled softly and subtly avoided Taemin’s hand as it reached for her waist.
“What if someone sees us? I’d rather go alone.”
Neither of them noticed as they left the emergency exit.
That several floors below, sitting on the emergency stairs, Jeha had been listening to their entire conversation.
At the sound of the door closing, Jeha slowly stood up.
“How shameless.”