Princess Syndrome
Not long after Jeha left, Chairman Yang also departed, finally leaving Juhee alone with Taemin. Seeing her sitting quietly with a heart fluttering in anticipation, Taemin spoke.
“Next week, Jeha will be appointed as the Representative of Seohwa Motors. It’s his first time handling the automotive side, so he’ll have a lot to learn. I need you to support him well, Juhee.”
Juhee thought she must have misheard and asked again.
“Are you telling me to transfer departments?”
“That’s right.”
At Taemin’s casual reply while gazing out the window, Juhee drew in a slow breath.
Instead of a proposal, she had received a department transfer order. The fact that her new boss would be none other than Yoon Jeha was even harder to believe.
The suddenness of it all left her speechless, and she snapped back at him.
“Is this an order?”
Taemin, who had been staring outside, turned his head.
“Let’s call it a suggestion.”
Though the words sounded reasonable, it was an order she could not refuse.
“Is this suggestion coming from you, Executive Director?”
“It’s the Chairman’s idea.”
“The Chairman’s opinion doesn’t matter to me.”
With her teeth trembling, Juhee spat the words through clenched jaws.
Taemin’s daily life, consumed by his single-minded obsession with success, consisted solely of work and exercise. Even when they were alone at home, there were never any of the casual conversations or affectionate touches common between lovers. It was always just work.
Instead of expressing her disappointment to a partner like that, Juhee had done everything she could to help him focus on his career. Even though they had saved enough money, she continued to look after Hye-sun, who still lived next door and refused to move. She comforted herself with the thought that spending most of the day together was enough.
She knew Taemin was working himself to death for their future.
Even so, this felt like too much. No, it was downright cruel.
“Do you want me to go, Executive Director?”
When Taemin remained silent, Juhee asked again in a shaking voice.
“Can you live well without me?”
“That’s not important. What matters is that Jeha will be an excellent superior who can give you wings.”
No. That wasn’t it. To Juhee, the only thing that truly mattered was Taemin’s wishes. She had turned down scouting offers from her previous boss and stayed at Seohwa Motors solely to support him.
“This is the direct secretary’s business card for the Chairman. Contact him directly once you’ve made up your mind.”
The moment she saw the card Taemin held out, Juhee squeezed her eyes shut. He genuinely wanted her to become Jeha’s secretary. The realization caused all the disappointment she had been holding back to surge forward like a broken dam.
It was fine that she hadn’t received a proposal. What truly hurt her was Taemin’s completely unmoved reaction.
Juhee wanted to demand answers from him. If she left, they would barely see each other—would that really be okay? Wasn’t he upset about not being able to spend time with her, separate from any work issues?
Yet the sorrow filling her chest was so heavy that only one choked sentence escaped.
“Don’t you have anything else to say to me?”
“…Later.”
“When is later?”
It was the first time Juhee had pressed him so insistently. Taemin’s brows drew together—a sign that his patience was wearing thin.
“This weekend. We’ll talk then.”
At least he had something to say. But why did it have to be the weekend? The flowers she had ordered today would wither by then.
Juhee, who had been about to leave, hesitated again.
Should she ask if they could at least spend today together?
While she wavered timidly, Taemin pressed his temples with a tired expression.
Come to think of it, he had been working alone late into the night for the past few weeks. Whenever she asked about his schedule, he would say it was confidential, so she couldn’t press further.
Now that she knew that confidential matter involved Yoon Jeha, the disappointment she had felt began to fade.
“I understand.”
She answered without hesitation, but she couldn’t help worrying about how especially exhausted Taemin looked today.
“If you’re tired, shall I give you a massage?”
“It’s fine.”
Taemin lightly refused and stood up. Juhee rose as well and reached out, but her hand fell short in a painfully empty way. After fumbling in the air for a moment, she curled her embarrassed fingers into a fist. With his back to her, Taemin said,
“See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow” meant he wouldn’t be coming home tonight either.
Why did the broad back she had seen for so long feel especially cold and indifferent today?
As Chairman Yang had said, Jeha might be crooked in every other aspect of life, but when it came to work, he was flawless.
His personal life was as fickle as the weather, yet anything work-related was meticulously planned. He hated wasting time more than anything. So after stopping by the company, he immediately called an executive meeting.
‘You have one week. Behave yourselves accordingly. If you want to keep those necks you’ve been fattening comfortably, that is.’
Chairman Yang watched his grandson’s actions with satisfaction and left first, pretending not to notice. Jeha delivered only that one warning before heading straight to the parking lot.
As Jeha drove out of the parking garage, a familiar silhouette caught his eye. Gong Juhee was sitting at the bus stop, looking utterly drained.
He couldn’t explain why, in a crowd of people, only that small woman appeared magnified in his vision. He had even less idea why he turned on his hazard lights and pulled over to the shoulder.
Jeha got out of the driver’s seat and stood in front of her.
“Princess.”
At the nickname that rolled so naturally off his tongue, the small face that looked up in surprise was clearly unhappy. Her lips parted and closed as she glanced back and forth between Jeha and the flashy sports car. He spoke casually.
“I’ll give you a ride. Get in.”
“Why should I?”
Seeing her openly wary, Jeha smiled faintly.
“Because people are staring at you.”
Only then did Juhee notice the curious gazes directed at her. Embarrassment spread across her face. She bit down hard on her unusually plump lower lip, her long lashes trembling.
“Oh, look. The buses are coming one after another.”
He didn’t bother adding that he wouldn’t move until she got in. The princess who hated causing even the slightest inconvenience to others was already slipping past him into the passenger seat.
Once Jeha got in the car, Juhee sat with both hands neatly folded on her lap, staring straight ahead.
He skipped the time-wasting question of where she lived and stepped on the accelerator. Taemin, who was supposedly getting married soon, lived in a 48-pyeong apartment. There was no way he lived alone in a place that large. They were obviously already living together.
After driving for about ten minutes, Juhee, who had been stubbornly looking forward, suddenly spoke.
“This isn’t the way to my house.”
“Correct.”
“It’s not.”
“I didn’t hear that Taemin moved again.”
After a brief silence, Juhee spoke again.
“Taemin oppa didn’t move. I’m the one living in Oryu-dong.”
“Oryu-dong? The place next to Taemin’s old house?”
“…Yes.”
Letting his own woman live in a rundown place while he stays in a big, nice house. Jeha inwardly cursed Han Taemin with every insult he could think of as he changed their destination. Juhee’s gaze burned into the side of his face.
She hadn’t looked at him once earlier, yet now she was staring at him intently.
“You must be very busy. Why are you driving me?”
“I’m not busy.”
Jeha glanced at the silent Juhee and added,
“I was so bored I was wondering what to do when you showed up.”
Even Jeha knew it was a ridiculous excuse. It wasn’t that she had appeared—he had sought her out. And far from being bored, he was so swamped his head was spinning.
Yet even he wondered why he was acting on this whim. He had simply seen her, and by the time he came to his senses, he was already standing in front of her outside the car.
In the quiet silence, the car sped onward. Juhee, who had remained silent through three intersections, suddenly struck.
“Do you have feelings for me?”
Fortunately, the light turned red right then. The car came to an abrupt stop. Jeha looked at her with an incredulous expression.
“Because I keep calling you princess, have you caught princess syndrome?”
At least she still had some shame. Her face was already pale, but now even her ears and the back of her neck had turned bright red.
“Then never mind.”
Juhee answered softly and quietly turned her gaze away. Even though she was an adult, this small woman had one strange talent: the ability to suddenly strike like that and leave him speechless.
“Representative.”
He hadn’t even had his inauguration yet, and she was already calling him Representative. She used to call him “oppa” so naturally before.
It wasn’t just the title that bothered him. Thinking back, they had met quite often in the past and seemed to have built a decent rapport. Yet seeing Juhee treat him like a stranger made him wonder if that rapport had only existed in his mind.
The way she pretended not to know him, the way she called him Representative—it was clear she was keeping her distance because she was about to marry Taemin. The thought made irritation rise in Jeha’s chest.
What does she take me for?
As he grumbled inwardly, Juhee spoke again.
“The light has changed.”
The car lurched forward as if reflecting Jeha’s foul mood. After driving another twenty minutes, they arrived at the entrance of a neighborhood lined with houses.
“Thank you for the ride. But in the future, I’d appreciate it if you would just pretend not to see me and keep going.”
She really had a way with words. So neat, so proper, so coldly saying he meant nothing to her.
Did she not realize that only made him look at her more, that it only annoyed him further? Or was she doing it on purpose?
“Secretary Gong.”
At Jeha’s call, Juhee turned only her head while holding the door handle. The colorless eyes trapped behind her glasses met his glossy black ones.
“I’m not enough of a bastard to make a move on my friend’s woman.”
It felt as if sparks flew where their tangled gazes met.
Yet neither of them looked away.
“Me having feelings for you? I don’t waste time on childish tricks like that.”
“…”
“So hold onto Han Taemin tightly, Princess. He’s your shield.”
Her slender throat, swallowing dryly, was as white as a snow-covered field. It made him want to bite it.
As if shaking off any lingering attachment, Jeha turned his head sharply and waved his hand.
“Go on.”
The sound of the car door opening and closing reached him. Jeha turned back to look through the window. Juhee’s posture was straight. Her steps as she walked away without glancing back once were unhurried.
The moment her slender silhouette disappeared around the corner, Jeha let out a soft laugh for no reason at all.
“Right in front of Building 105 at Hanshin Palace…”
Juhee’s eyes widened as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have.
“Driver, please turn on the meter and stop in front of that white car past Building 105. I’ll pay double the fare.”
The taxi stopped where Juhee had indicated.
She desperately hoped what she had just seen was an illusion, but the sight of Taemin standing with a woman in front of Building 105 was reality, not a dream.
When she lowered the window about a third of the way, their conversation drifted in on the breeze.
“Oppa, can’t I come up to your place?”
A woman’s voice that sounded vaguely familiar.
“You can’t come to the house.”
And Han Taemin’s voice, which she had heard countless times.
The woman laughed softly and linked her arm with his. Taemin didn’t pull away. Watching them, Juhee murmured like a spell.
Don’t jump to conclusions. There must be some unavoidable circumstance.
Juhee tried desperately to gather her scattering heart. Because in this world, the one person she trusted and believed in absolutely was Han Taemin.
“Tsk, we’ve already slept together. So why not? Especially after you proposed to me today.”
The woman’s petulant voice rode the chilly wind and reached her once more.