Once, For Now
Knock, knock.
Monday morning, ten o’clock. The knock came right on schedule. I swallowed my birth-control pill out of habit and was halfway off the bed when my eyes caught on the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.
“Just a moment.”
I called it toward the door, then opened the box. Ever since I’d taken the ruby ring, no one had touched it. Probably keeping their hands off so the frequency wouldn’t give them away. I pulled the matching necklace out a little farther so it would catch the eye more easily, then closed the lid.
I opened the door with a carefully blank face. As always, Hee-yeon unnie stood there. The bright little smile was the same, but something about the set of her eyes had gone hard.
“If you come downstairs, Madam will give you some fruit. It’s hot, so don’t go out—just rest and eat.”
“…….”
Unbidden, the face of Nam Seo-yeong I’d seen at the restaurant not long ago floated up. I simply nodded without a word and stepped out of the room. Her gaze clung to my back with unusual persistence.
I went down the stairs just as Madam was setting a plate of fruit on the living-room table.
“Come eat. The watermelon’s perfectly ripe.”
What drew my eye more than the neat red cubes was the big plastic tub she was holding. That, too, was packed full of watermelon.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, this? I’m taking it out to them.”
Out to them…. I thought for a second, then offered casually,
“I’ll take it.”
“Pardon?”
Madam’s eyes went round, then she readily pressed the tub into my arms.
“Maybe it’s the better weather, but you seem to be getting brighter too, miss.”
“Pardon?”
“Seeing you take tutoring with young Ha-jin and move around on your own… it looks like you’re improving.”
“…….”
Her proud little reaction made me feel oddly embarrassed. I was only going out because I wanted to dig into the reason that man had said those things. I swallowed dryly; Madam stacked my own plate on top of the tub as well.
“Since you’re going out anyway, eat with them. Having a snack under the tree always feels like a little picnic—puts you in a good mood.”
I couldn’t ignore the gentle push of her hand and started walking, even as the image of the four of them resting under that tree rose unbidden. I felt a twinge of guilt for stealing their break, but I had a purpose, so I stepped out through the front door.
The yard always looked much the same at this hour. Of the two gardeners working on different trees, the one who spotted me first was the Director, closer to the main house. As usual, faint trot music drifted from somewhere—he must have had the radio on.
“Ji-yul brought this?”
He switched off the radio and came over, taking the watermelon tub from me. The look on his face held even more fond pride than Madam’s. Of everyone in this house, the one who had fretted most over how listless I’d become was probably the Director, who’d worked here the longest.
I gave an awkward smile and glanced toward the man at the far diagonal end of the yard. He’d noticed me too; he was just climbing down the ladder.
“This must be Ji-yul’s share. Let’s eat together. Come on over.”
Even as I followed the Director, my eyes kept sliding toward the man. He was striding across the lawn, staring straight at me in return.
The Director settled under the usual tree. He dropped onto the grass with a thud, waved for me to sit wherever was comfortable, and opened the tub.
I looked around for something to spread underneath me, but nothing suitable was in sight. It felt a little gross, but clothes could be washed again—I was about to sit down when something landed on the grass ahead of me. A white towel.
“Can’t have a princess sitting on bare ground, can we?”
“Huh? Ah—right.”
The towel that had landed at my feet was the one the man had just had slung around his neck. I stared at it, nonplussed; he gave a rough chin-jerk and sat down beside the Director. The Director laughed, “Heh, I didn’t even think of that.”
I glanced at the man, who had already started eating watermelon with his fingers, then bent my knees and examined the towel. It was damp with sweat in places, but there were still dry patches; I folded the dry side up and sat on it. A soft snort of laughter reached me.
I lifted my eyes warily. One cheek bulging, the man was leaning forward, wiping sweat off his face.
“What’s the special occasion, bringing it yourself?”
He asked, pointing at the watermelon. Instead of answering I picked up my own plate. With the Director right there I couldn’t bring up the question that had been eating at me all weekend. And I could hardly ask someone on break to leave. I put it off for later and stabbed a cube of flesh with my fork, biting down with a crisp crunch.
The air was thick with the shrill of cicadas. I listened without really listening; a breeze drifted past. Still without much thought I lifted my head a little—green leaves glittered in the sunlight.
“Feels good to be outside, doesn’t it?”
the Director remarked lightly. I wasn’t sure about “good,” but it did feel surprisingly peaceful. Belatedly I noticed juice trailing down the corner of my mouth and was about to wipe it when a large thumb suddenly swiped across my lips. My spine went rigid.
The Director had his head tipped all the way back, looking up into the tree, so he didn’t see. The man casually wiped his wet finger on his own clothes and took another piece of watermelon. Another breath of wind stirred his untrimmed hair into soft disarray.
All at once my lips felt as if they were swelling, growing thicker. And not only my lips—my forearm where he’d first touched me, the brief brush of thigh skin—everything throbbed. I was hyper-aware of those three places when, out of nowhere, trot music started up again. I blinked; the Director, who had been lounging so leisurely, pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Call from home. Keep eating.”
With a little grunt of effort he stood and walked toward the stone statue to take the call. Suddenly I was alone with the man. Perfect. I set my fork on the plate, ready to ask while I had the chance.
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
At the abrupt question he gave a short laugh and stretched both arms behind him. Leaning his body at an angle, half-lidding his eyes, he still carried that peculiar sharpness.
“What makes you think that.”
“…….”
“I thought I was being pretty nice.”
He’d given me the towel and wiped my mouth, but I didn’t get the sense either gesture came from any real fondness for me. The first was the kind of easy manners he’d show anyone; the second, if I was right, had been deliberate—an extension of that earlier question about how I felt. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand.
“Anyway, I’ve never once felt like you were interested in me.”
“Go on.”
“So why did you say those things?”
“…….”
“No matter how hard I think, I can’t figure out what you meant.”
He stared at me in silence for a moment, then roughly raked a hand through his hair. The bangs stuck to his forehead fell back in uneven strands.
“Want me to just say it straight?”
I nodded quickly. I wanted a different kind of curiosity satisfied.
“I saw you get wet and it got me wet too.”
“…What?”
“Every time I look at you you’re all prim and proper, so when you make a face like that it makes a guy wonder.”
“…….”
“What you’d be like if you really went into heat.”
It was a rawer answer than I’d expected him to lay out.
“For now, that’s it.”
“For now?”
“Yeah. For now.”
“…….”
He smirked at my uneasy expression and asked,
“You’re better at reading people than I thought. Figured it out from all that peeping, huh.”
“…So you admit you don’t like me.”
“Not dislike, exactly. Sometimes I’d just think, why does she live like that? Didn’t expect you to catch it, though.”
My instinct had been right. He didn’t think much of me. More precisely, he seemed to find me pathetic.
“Princess, right? Locked up in the castle.”
“Heard you shut yourself in your room after your mom died.”
“That’s why your hobbies are so gloomy.”
So that was why he’d mocked me. I’d roughly expected something in that vein; it didn’t wound me.
“You look blank, but you’ve got a sharp side too.”
“I’m used to it.”
“Used to what?”
“People not liking me.”
“…….”
He’d been plucking blades of grass and snapping them; he stopped and looked at me. I lowered my eyes and stabbed another cube of watermelon with my fork. I gnawed at the square piece, sinking into thought.
Being hated by other people is familiar. Thanks to Do Ha-jin, becoming the object of someone’s desire isn’t exactly new either. But the two of them combined—that was a first.
I tossed the rest of the watermelon into my mouth and lifted my eyes again. The man was still watching me. He’d spoken bluntly, so I asked bluntly too.
“Does it even make sense—to get hard for someone you don’t like?”
He dusted his hands and laughed. Bits of grass fluttered away on the breeze.
“Want to hear something interesting?”
He didn’t wait for an answer; he just planted a hand on the ground and dragged his upper body closer. His scent rushed at me; I sucked in a sharp breath. He jerked his chin past my shoulder. Seeming to mean I should look, I slowly turned my head—and a low voice settled against my ear.
“Higher.”
“…….”
As if under a spell I raised my eyes, and there she was: Hee-yeon unnie standing at my bedroom window. The distance was too great to make out every detail of her expression, but there was no mistaking that she was looking this way.
The moment our eyes seemed to meet, however faintly, she closed the curtain. Even so, her rounded silhouette stayed painted against the fabric. So that was how he’d known I was peeping. I’d thought I was hidden, but from outside I must have been completely visible; the embarrassment came late and pointless.
More than that, unnie’s atmosphere felt off. I understood the intention behind telling me not to go out because of the heat, but the second those words left her mouth it was already too late. It meant I’d started to grate on her. I guessed that, given time, she would come to hate me.
“Guess what I saw in that unnie’s room.”
I turned my head; he was right in front of me. Too close—I started to push at his chest, but he kept talking.
“There was this bright-red ring.”
My hand, hanging in the air, gave a tiny tremor.
“Big stone. Looked pretty expensive.”
“…So?”
“Something like that’d be way more than a housekeeper’s monthly pay.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Think that was all? Pearl earrings, some gold necklace too.”
“So why… are you telling me that.”
“From her clothes and bags she doesn’t seem like the type to splash money around. Doesn’t that seem weird?”
“…….”
He studied my flustered face for a long moment, then let out a soft laugh.
“You know, don’t you.”
“Know… what.”
“That unnie’s a thief.”