Bringing Her Home

Yoon Ho-yeon lay with a white band wrapped around her head. Even after taking the headache medicine, her skull still felt ready to split open. Do-heon’s bombshell announcement had left her feeling utterly wrecked.

“You bastard. How could you do this to me.”

Unable to contain the rage boiling up inside her, Ho-yeon tore the white band off in irritation and sat up. Not knowing what kind of woman she was drove her nearly insane with frustration. All she knew was that the girl was a freshman at Korea University.

If she at least had a name, she could dig into every detail, but Do-heon had thrown up an iron wall and blocked her completely. That meant she had no choice but to wait until he brought the girl home himself. Sitting around with her hands tied like this made her feel as if she would burst and die.

Remembering the rumor that the two of them had been photographed at Seon-gyu’s hotel, Ho-yeon had called him an hour earlier. Somehow she felt certain Seon-gyu would know something about that woman.

Seon-gyu had gone on and on, every sentence circling back to how pretty she was. They had talked for over twenty minutes, yet the only thing that stuck in Ho-yeon’s mind was the word “pretty.”

After hanging up, her thoughts grew even more tangled. Just how beautiful did a girl have to be for a man to keep praising her until his mouth ran dry—especially when he claimed he had only glimpsed her?

Pretty enough that even the women from those powerful families never caught his eye. Pretty enough to cloud the judgment of Do-heon, a man more clear-headed and discerning than anyone she knew.

Of course she wouldn’t be ordinary. That was how she had managed to cook and soften even Do-heon, the kind of man who could make a stone Buddha turn away in indifference.

She had bewitched him—no doubt about it. That fox of a girl. She had taken advantage of an age when a man’s blood ran hottest. She must have pushed with her face and her body.

To drive Do-heon all the way to such an absurd decision…

That idiot. Well, since it was a marriage he was entering because he liked it, he was asking for permission. Ha.

How on earth had he gotten tangled up with a fox like that?

She ought to be giving Do-heon every ounce of support she could muster, yet she could never accept as a daughter-in-law some lowly girl from a family with nothing to offer. Even if only for the years of effort she had poured into him, it was out of the question.

She had not raised him with such devoted care just so some fox-like bitch could snatch him away.

She fully intended to stop this marriage by any means necessary.

On the weekend afternoon of the very week Do-heon had proposed to Hye-won, the two of them were on their way to his family home. Unable to withstand Jeong Cheol’s constant urging about when he would finally bring his girlfriend over, Do-heon had moved up the schedule that had originally been set for the following week.

“Why are you so frozen solid?”

Do-heon glanced at Hye-won, who had been stiff as a board for some time now.

“Pardon?”

She was so tense that even his slightest movement made her jump.

“Where did you get your hair done?”

“Does it look really weird?”

The moment the conversation shifted to her hair, the tension seemed to ease a little. Hye-won fiddled with the strands and checked herself in the rearview mirror.

Do-heon had told her to go to a proper salon and even handed her his card, yet she had worried it would be too expensive and gone instead to the tiny shop behind the hotel. A grandmother with thirty years of experience had done her hair.

Afraid of looking too young, she had asked for something a bit more mature, but the perm solution had taken far too well. Her hair had come out all bouncy and curly. Time had been so short there was no chance to fix it with a dryer. She wouldn’t have known better—she had never gotten a perm before.

No matter how hard she pressed the curls flat with her palm, they sprang back lively and springy, giving off a playful air.

“Haa…”

First impressions mattered so much. She regretted not simply getting a neat blow-dry instead of this unnecessary perm, but it was already far too late.

She kept sighing heavily when she felt his hand brush against her hair. Hye-won froze on the spot and stopped breathing. Her round eyes followed the path of his touch upward. Every sense in her body seemed to rush toward her head.

Why was her heart pounding so hard? While his large hand gently stroked her hair, she forgot to breathe and nearly choked.

“It’s fine. It’s cute.”

The comfort came in that same blunt, almost mechanical voice and expressionless face, yet somehow there was real strength in his tone. Even though nothing about the hair had improved, it truly felt as if everything would be all right.

Well, what could she do about it now? Hye-won decided to focus on what she could control. She would try her best to look well-behaved once they arrived. She would read the room carefully. Steeling herself, she checked her clothes once more for any stains or wrinkles and smoothed them out.

“They think we met at a club. You should think so too.”

As if something forgotten had suddenly come back to him, Do-heon turned toward her and spoke.

“A club? Why a club of all places? If we say we met somewhere like that, they might not like it.”

“Then where else is a guy like me supposed to meet a twenty-year-old young lady? A tteokbokki shop?”

“No, that’s way too ridiculous.”

She said it, yet Hye-won herself could not think of a single suitable place either. A twelve-year age gap. Within the narrow radius of her daily life—school, part-time jobs, home—there simply was no natural spot where a student and a working adult might cross paths. Her imagination had its limits.

Do-heon found it endearing the way she fretted over something that was not particularly serious. She muttered to herself when nothing came to mind, stared out the window, then pulled out her phone to search. The absolute highlight was the way she had frowned and scrunched her brows when he suggested a tteokbokki shop, as if silently demanding he say something that actually made sense.

“Haa…”

A soft sigh slipped past her small lips.

“Why? What’s wrong with a club?”

“Clubs have a certain image, you know. People wearing revealing clothes, dancing, drinking…”

“And hooking up, too.”

“…”

“Is that so bad?”

Finding her answer oddly mismatched for someone of an age that should still enjoy clubs, Do-heon asked again.

“Teacher, you must have gone to clubs a lot. Seeing how a club was the first thing that came to mind.”

Somehow her expression had grown a touch more prim, as if she were jealous of some invisible someone. Though she had never set foot in a club herself, she had heard plenty of stories. She knew more than a few friends who had spent a single night with someone they met there. To Hye-won, clubs immediately conjured one-night stands, so the place carried no good image at all.

“Han Hye-won speaks as if she’s never been once.”

“…”

“Why no answer?”

“No comment.”

In a tiny voice meant only for herself, Hye-won gave a little huff and turned her gaze firmly toward the window.

It was full autumn. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, the garden stretched out like a painted landscape. Red maple leaves lay scattered like fallen petals beneath the crimson maple tree standing on the green lawn. That was the sight that greeted them the moment they stepped up into the living room.

“Welcome. I’ve heard so much about you from Do-heon. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

Jeong Cheol, who had been waiting right at the entrance, lit up with pure delight the instant he saw Hye-won, barely knowing what to do with himself. He was nothing like the stern chairman image she had pictured in her head. Warm and kind, he reminded her more of a friendly next-door uncle.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Han Hye-won.”

Even though Jeong Cheol welcomed her far more warmly than she had expected, Hye-won still could not loosen the tension gripping her. She greeted him with a stiff face.

“Honey, Do-heon’s here. Come out quickly.”

Jeong Cheol called toward the kitchen for Ho-yeon, then gestured for the two of them to sit on the sofa.

Just as Hye-won was about to take a seat, Jeong So-hyun appeared, her face flushed bright red. Hye-won quickly bowed her head in greeting, but So-hyun only stood there trembling, offering no greeting at all.

She had half-expected it might not happen, yet she never truly believed Do-heon would bring the woman from the photograph.

“What are you doing standing there without greeting her?”

Jeong Cheol looked at So-hyun again, worried Hye-won might feel awkward, but So-hyun only glared at Do-heon, shuddering with the force of her betrayal.

Sensing the icy current running between Do-heon and So-hyun, Hye-won felt a pang of guilt, certain it was all because of her. Even though she and Do-heon were not truly in love, she could fully understand how disappointed So-hyun must feel toward an older brother who had suddenly announced he was getting married.

Just as the tension began to shift into pure discomfort, Do-heon took her hand. Startled, Hye-won looked up at him with wide eyes. He squeezed her fingers again.

Even knowing he was doing it deliberately in the middle of this heavy atmosphere, her heart pounded without the slightest sense of timing. The moment their palms pressed together and their fingers locked tightly, her chest felt ready to burst.

“Where’s Mother?”

It was Do-heon who broke the thin-ice silence. Whether So-hyun clenched her fists and let tears fall or not, he simply sought the still-absent Ho-yeon.

“In the kitchen. She seems not to realize you’ve arrived because she’s preparing a meal for the precious guest who came to our house. Let’s talk while we eat first.”

Jeong Cheol pointed toward the kitchen and gave them a look that said they should go.