A Slip of the Tongue
The private dining room of the high-end Chinese restaurant was finished entirely in gold marble, the chairs and chandeliers given deep red amethyst accents. The four of them followed the staff’s guidance into the room.
Their parents’ generation had never gotten along particularly well, yet the children managed surprisingly well together.
Seo Tae-won had never expected much, since Songhwa was only his maternal family, and Song Si-hoon had never been interested in the business to begin with. He had also clashed often enough with his uncle.
Of course, Song Dae-hoon was the exception.
Across from her, Dae-hoon had ordered the exact same seafood-and-vegetable fried rice and was picking out only the mushrooms. Yeon-ha set her spoon down as she watched him.
“Why are you looking at me like I’ve ruined your appetite?”
Dae-hoon slanted his eyes upward and sneered, waving his spoon.
So classless.
“Isn’t it obvious? Stop waving that filthy spoon around and just eat.”
“Then who told you to sit across from me?”
“I sat here first. Looking at your face keeps making me want to throw up.”
In truth she was already full; nothing more would go down. Je-yoon’s cooking… ah, Go Je-yoon again. Yeon-ha furrowed her brow, uncrossed her arms, and clenched her spoon tightly.
Dae-hoon’s spoon froze mid-air in surprise. Yeon-ha scooped up a heaping spoonful of rice and forced it into her mouth. If she wanted to push out every trace of Je-yoon, she had to do at least this much.
Tae-won had been happily watching their ping-pong match, head whipping left and right. Now he stood, lined up the shot glasses in front of him, and began pouring gaoliang liquor in a generous stream. He set the glasses on the lazy Susan, spun them around to the other three, and lifted his own.
“Both of you shut up. I’m the one who’s going to be sick. Everybody drink.”
Yeon-ha had been craving alcohol anyway; she downed hers in one go.
One glass became two, and the second bottle of brutally strong Wuliangye was cracked open. The liquor was going to their heads, yet none of them was willing to be the first to put their face on the table.
Her mind was growing steadily fuzzier. Any more and she would definitely be drunk. At least she still looked composed on the outside; no one would guess how far gone she was.
She could have stood up and left after a reasonable amount, but she wanted to use this gathering as an excuse to keep avoiding Je-yoon. Thanks to the endless sparring with these three, time had slipped past without her noticing how close it was to midnight.
“Yeah, baby. Yeah, yeah, I’m coming home.”
Dae-hoon’s face was flushed as he spoke to his wife on the phone. The uncharacteristic doting-husband act only made Yeon-ha’s stomach turn harder. When their eyes met he mouthed a curse at her. The moment she scowled, he rose slyly and slipped out first.
The remaining two looked as though they had already exceeded their limits; they simply tilted their heads and waved her off.
Yeon-ha let out a long sigh. The sharp scent of liquor clung to the air.
“Drink up! Songhwa’s princess looks even more rotten than usual today!”
Seo Tae-won pushed another glass toward her. Yeon-ha drained it ostentatiously. Tae-won made a face of pure disgust, clutched both arms, and shuddered; moments later two of his secretaries dragged him out.
Si-hoon, whose tolerance was closest to Yeon-ha’s, was the only one left. He had always projected a cool image, reinforced by his profession. Now he pulled out his phone, apparently intending to call a designated driver before he lost the ability to speak.
“Ah. Dead battery.”
Song Si-hoon clicked his tongue and looked at her.
“Noona.”
“…….”
“Noona.”
Yeon-ha flinched and turned her head so sharply that Si-hoon was the one who looked startled.
“Why so jumpy?”
“Ah… uh, what?”
“Lend me your phone so I can call a driver.”
“Oh. Here.”
Yeon-ha handed over the phone that had been sleeping in her bag the entire evening. The screen lit up; Si-hoon dialed the familiar driver number as if he had done it a hundred times.
Noona.
Yeon-ha buried her face in her palm. The room was spinning. It wasn’t as if only Je-yoon ever called her that, yet she had still jumped.
“I’m heading out. Thanks for the phone. But seriously, why is it blowing up like this?”
“Work, what else.”
“I heard about the jewelry brand.”
“Ah…”
“I’m not exactly in a position to be useful, but if you ever go head-to-head with Father, at least know I’m on your side, Noona.”
His tone was not particularly warm, yet the sincerity came through clearly. Yeon-ha smiled at him and gave a small wave.
Once Si-hoon was gone and she was alone, Yeon-ha began pouring the remaining liquor straight down her throat. The bitter alcohol burned its way down, and with every swallow her thoughts grew thinner. Even the image of Je-yoon seemed to blur.
She picked up her phone to check the time.
Dozens of messages from Kevin. She dragged her thumb down the screen. There was nothing from Je-yoon.
Yeon-ha gave the bottle a liquid-sounding shake, poured the last of it into her glass—exactly one more shot—and sipped while she checked what kind of nonsense Kevin had written. The sheer length of the garbage made her feel sorry for the data used to send it.
“Hah… ah, I’m getting drunk.”
Her head lolled from side to side. A long vibration buzzed against her palm.
She was about to hit decline when her elbow, balanced precariously on the edge of the table, slipped.
A staff member who had just entered saw her dazed expression and answered the phone for her.
“Hello?”
Startled by the sudden foreign language, the employee stammered “Uh—uh…” and hurriedly hung up. He pressed the phone back into Yeon-ha’s hand and quietly cleared the dishes and empty bottles.
After the staff left, the phone rang again.
“Ah… so loud.”
Infuriating. Kevin Lee. Reunion, my ass…
Without even checking the caller, Yeon-ha accepted the call and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Haa… Kevin… you… haa…. Kevin Lee…. Reunion… that… let’s… do it…”
…Don’t.
Don’t bother me. I’m not doing any reunion.
In her head the refusal had been perfectly clear, yet the final words never made it past her lips; they simply stayed trapped inside her mouth.
Yeon-ha had put him to the test.
When he arrived at the studio she was already asleep, three buttons of her shirt undone. On the desk sat a black velvet case containing one of her proudest sets. She must have tried it on and dozed off.
“You’re completely defenseless…”
It was a necklace he had never seen before—an articulated gold chain that drank in the sunset pouring through the rear window with particular greed.
In that warm, still air thick enough to see floating dust, he stared at the sleeping woman. Slowly his gaze traveled downward. She had probably loosened the buttons so she could examine the jewelry more carefully, yet the opening revealed far too much.
He wanted to hold her.
She only allowed his arms when he played the pitiful card; if he simply scooped her up or kissed her without warning, he could not even imagine her reaction. She would probably panic and try to put distance between them.
Faced with the constant wariness she still wore around him, Je-yoon’s eyes grew quietly still.
Aside from carrying her to the bed or the sofa, he had no excuse to hold her.
He carefully gathered her into his arms only for her to wake and ask to be put down. He wanted to keep holding her and kiss her right there, but he set her down and fed her instead.
Every time the spoon disappeared between her lips he felt jealous of the food. He wanted those lips to meet his mouth, not metal.
When she came out after brushing her teeth, a droplet of water clung to her chin. Without thinking he stepped close and lifted her face by that chin. Startled eyes pushed him away again.
She returned coldly to her desk and began clattering at the keyboard. He had assumed she was working, yet his gaze kept snagging on her.
He would stare until their eyes almost met, then look away. Then stare again… What on earth was she thinking so hard about?
Still, the mere possibility that he occupied some corner of Song Yeon-ha’s mind was enough to keep his whole body taut.
Je-yoon studied her unfocused pupils, the faint tremor of her lashes. He wanted to see her from closer. By the time he came to himself he was perched on the edge of her desk, leaning down.
Their locked gazes felt strange. For a split second he could almost believe she was looking at him as a man. As if entranced, he sank to his knees and drew nearer so their eyes could meet properly.
Their breaths crossed in the air between them. The shared scent of toothpaste alone made him ache. Same fabric softener, same pillow, same bed, same clothes. Simply attaching the word “same” to every ordinary noun sent the blood rushing. He leaned a fraction closer.
Yet Yeon-ha turned her head away as if to declare there was no chance.
Even that gesture.
I want to kiss her.
He wanted to leave a mark on the exposed line of her throat.
He stroked the nape of her neck; she did not brush his hand away. Instead her eyes trembled as though she were waiting for the next touch. His heart pounded beyond control. Should he simply borrow the twilight, use the most sentimental hour of the day as his excuse?
“How do I look?”
You idiot. Why did you ask that there? Why bring up modeling?
He could have simply pressed those soft lips, sucked gently, then slowly pushed inside. At least in that moment she might not have pulled away.
Left alone in the studio, Je-yoon stared blankly at the front door she had exited in a cold rush of air.
He looked no different from a dog waiting for its owner.
Belatedly he chased after her. He caught the sight of her climbing into a taxi.
Je-yoon flagged the next cab and climbed in. Afraid of losing her, he had rushed out without even putting on a mask. People who recognized him whispered, but he never noticed.
“Follow that taxi. Do not lose it under any circumstances.”
Songhwa headquarters…
Yeon-ha had always been particularly reluctant to go to headquarters. Knowing that, Je-yoon felt a sharp sting in his chest even as a hollow laugh escaped him.
So she was running all the way to headquarters just to avoid him.
“Sir, are you getting out?”
At the driver’s words, Je-yoon was about to hand over his card when he spotted Yeon-ha emerging with three men. The four of them climbed into a single car and drove off somewhere.
“Follow that car as well.”
“…Yes.”
Chasing after a cheating wife, huh. Tsk tsk. The driver clicked his tongue inwardly and continued the pursuit.