A Month of Silence
“That's enough, don't you think? Maybe not for Jin Seo-ah, but I've cleared up my misunderstanding.”
At her deadpan stare, Tae-kyung simply shrugged.
“Come on, just tell me your address. I'm genuinely exhausted. Let's get you home already.”
It took considerable effort, but he finally managed to extract the location of a convenience store near her building.
Jin Seo-ah's stubbornness was truly something else.
Well, no wonder she snapped up a marriage at the first sign of it, ignoring her father's objections. Swept away by talk of investment.
The street near Seo-ah's apartment was lit only by the convenience store's glow; everything beyond it lay in shadow.
“Stop being stubborn and just tell me where you live.”
Glancing at the dim alley, its streetlights all dead, Tae-kyung pressed her once more. No matter how he looked at it, he could not in good conscience send Jin Seo-ah alone into that alley.
“I walk this way every day. It's not exactly a dangerous neighborhood.”
“Not dangerous, my foot. You're seriously going to walk down that dark alley alone? At this hour, dressed like that?”
Faced with her stubbornness, Tae-kyung finally let out a sigh.
And it wasn't just the neighborhood that looked dangerous. Jin Seo-ah herself was a walking hazard.
Her looks already turned heads everywhere, and now she was practically half-dressed. He couldn't possibly just leave her be.
Whether she realized it or not, she was even undoing the buttons of the jacket he'd draped over her.
“I should return this.”
Before she could undo the last button, Tae-kyung's hands moved swiftly, fastening them back up.
“Wear it home for now. Return it next time. You'd better—this one's a favorite of mine.”
“Oh……. All right.”
Seo-ah nodded slowly.
Her expression stayed earnest even at his throwaway joke, and Tae-kyung arched a brow for a moment before letting it fall, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
“You didn't laugh.”
“…….”
Tae-kyung already wore the easy expression of a man who had wiped the entire day from his memory. Seo-ah, however, was still stiff as a board.
“Okay, I'm heading in. Get home safe.”
“You too. Good night.”
Seo-ah stepped out of the car, then bent down at the open door and held his gaze for a long moment.
“What is it? Something you want to say?”
She, who for some reason couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from him, straightened up.
Then she bowed, carefully and deeply.
“Thank you, Director Kang Tae-kyung. And…… I'm truly sorry.”
Would Tae-kyung understand how much meaning was packed into that one bow?
The guilt of having deceived him from the very start. The shame of lazily branding him a vulgar man and judging him on appearances. The self-loathing of pressing her inexperience onto a man who was already trying to refuse her, dragging his dignity through the mud with talk of her first time.
That bow was a heartfelt apology from a self tangled in all of these emotions—apology to him, and to herself.
As it happened, in the car on the way to her place, Seo-ah had asked him about it carefully.
What had led him to the overseas branch, and what had happened there.
Tae-kyung had asked where she'd heard such talk, but unable to mention Se-yeon, Seo-ah had brushed it off as mere curiosity.
Even so, he had explained why he'd requested the overseas posting and what he'd accomplished there, even pulling up related news articles for her to see.
The articles included interview excerpts, along with photos and his exact job title, all laid out plainly.
So the rumors were almost certainly false.
Him—demoted on embezzlement charges, exiled to India, cooking up a slush fund by joining hands with Dongha Motors to leak Won Electric's trade secrets?
The more she talked with him, the less plausible it seemed. And a man who worked with that kind of relentless, single-minded intensity surely wouldn't have had the time for it, either.
Seo-ah felt as though the fury she'd felt when she first heard the rumor from Se-yeon—and the rational mind that had abandoned her—had only now finally returned to their proper places.
The Director's office, Future Strategy Division, Taeyu Motors.
Tae-kyung sat at his desk, leafing through someone's résumé.
“Impressive credentials, but not much work experience to show for them.”
At his brief assessment, Team Leader Cha Myung-hoon of the division's HR department, standing before his desk, reported on the situation.
“That's true, but the folks in Brand Strategy say Jin Seo-ah's portfolio is quite impressive.”
Cha's explanation seemed to please him; the corner of Tae-kyung's mouth lifted slightly.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir. Apparently her portfolio aligns remarkably well with the teaser campaign proposal for the new model. HR only just passed it along, but they seem to have already made their pick.”
The documents in Tae-kyung's hands were Seo-ah's résumé and cover letter.
Two weeks earlier, in the car as he drove her home, Tae-kyung had made her an offer.
“There's an internship posting at Taeyu Motors. Apply.”
Above all else, he couldn't leave her working at that establishment as an escort.
But handing her money out of nowhere wasn't an option either. Which left only one path: using his position.
That was why he'd told her to apply for the internship.
Taeyu Motors was in the middle of hiring a new class of interns. This was the first recruitment drive since his appointment as Division Director, and the plan was to bring in talent aligned with the division's goals.
His stated goal: launch five electric vehicles over the next five years.
New model planning and R&D had kicked off accordingly, and the Brand Strategy Office had immediately begun drafting the teaser campaign for the new car.
The campaign's theme was Taeyu Motors: Growing with Music.
He hadn't planned it that way, but having since learned that Jin Seo-ah had majored in music, this would prove an opportunity for her—and, in more ways than one, for himself.
A week later, on the final day of the internship posting, Jin Seo-ah's résumé arrived.
All that remained was the working team's judgment.
“How's the mood over there?”
“The Brand Strategy Office's atmosphere was already good. As long as no issues come up, I don't anticipate any problem with the hire.”
In truth, Tae-kyung had been prepared to write Seo-ah's letter of recommendation himself.
But if the team's impression of her was already this favorable, there was no need to take the conspicuous risk.
And if Jin Seo-ah passed the final round, Tae-kyung intended to pluck her straight out of there.
He needed her, too—now, at this very moment in his life.
“Then I'll take my leave, Director.”
“Right. Good work.”
When Team Leader Cha bowed, Tae-kyung returned a light nod.
“Hoo—”
The moment Cha left, Tae-kyung tugged his tie loose slightly, let out a long breath, and swiveled his chair around.
Gazing out at the view beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, he let the memory of that day surface.
Truthfully, there were images that burst forth unbidden, against his own will, without any effort to recall them.
Jin Seo-ah's face, clinging to him desperately.
At first, he'd been furious.
He hadn't known why—only that she treated him like garbage, and that she might have joined hands with Seo Won-ho. That was all.
But thinking it over now, he realized the person he'd been angriest at that day was himself.
After leaving the funeral home that day, as flower petals scattered across the street, Tae-kyung had abandoned Seo-ah and left Pyeonghan.
With no idea what might unfold next, he'd taken the excuse that he had no standing to stay.
If he had gotten out of the car and run back to her then, couldn't he have prevented their meeting at the hotel?
And if so, couldn't the beginning of their story have been here—in this office, at Taeyu Motors—instead?
Tae-kyung leaned back in his chair, tipping his head against it. Then, abruptly, he shot to his feet.
His face had flushed hot for no reason, his breath coming a shade faster.
Rubbing his heated face roughly with both hands, Tae-kyung spat out a low curse.
“Ugh, damn it……”
There was, in fact, one more scene that kept intruding on him without permission.
For instance, Jin Seo-ah's wide, round eyes gazing up at him right before the kiss.
As if mocking the man trying to frighten her off, her soft, small lips came flooding into his mouth unbidden—and they kept coming back, again and again.
Her clumsy, inexperienced tongue, especially, struck him with an unexpected, maddening ache of desire.
Don't tell me nervous, trembling virgins are my type now?
How old was he? Insane. He was acting like a teenager…….
An apartment complex on the outskirts of downtown Pyeonghan.
Seo-ah had visited her aunt's family home hoping to see Se-yeon, and once again she left the building with nothing to show for it.
It had been a full month since the night at the hotel, and still Se-yeon hadn't answered a single call.
What on earth could have happened?
That night, Seo-ah had called her the moment she got home. But no matter how many times she reached out, Se-yeon never once picked up.
How could she do this?
Even allowing for how late it had been, this kind of vanishing act was beyond imagination. Se-yeon had been her partner in something enormous, after all.
Yet Seo-ah knew almost nothing about her.
She couldn't even track her down—she didn't know which neighborhood in Seoul Se-yeon lived in, or where she worked. She'd never thought to ask, and Se-yeon had never volunteered it.
All that remained was filing a missing person's report.
But her great-aunt, who hadn't been able to reach her own daughter either, had blocked Seo-ah from reporting it to the very end.
Seo-ah had stopped by the family home specifically to persuade her—and less than ten minutes into the visit, she'd been all but shown the door.
Her worry had long since curdled into hurt.
And a month was more than enough time for hurt to harden into suspicion.
Why are you doing this, really, unnie……?