An Uncomfortable Presence
Tae-yul had been walking down the corridor that led to the study when he turned his head toward the massive pine tree standing tall in the garden visible beyond one of the windows.
It had already been nine years, yet the image of the woman who had just turned twenty—running straight at him as he stood beneath that tree and slapping him across the cheek without hesitation—rose so vividly in his mind that he froze mid-step.
He also remembered how the force of that slap, coming from a body so delicate it looked as if it might collapse in a breeze, had been shockingly strong and left pain lingering for quite some time.
Along with the memory of his own stunned inaction at first, too dumbfounded and absurd at the sight of someone who had farted getting angry.
Unconsciously brushing his left cheek with his palm, Tae-yul pushed the window upward to open it. The pine tree, previously half-hidden by the frame, came fully into view.
As the disconnect between past and present grew sharper, the words Su-ran had thrown out without a filter at the dinner table a short while ago echoed in his ears.
Basis or no basis, could there really be smoke without fire?
She wasn't wrong. The hierarchy in this household really was a complete mess.
That aside, he was curious.
Was it true? That he had brought her into his bedroom.
Or rather, that she had walked into his bedroom.
"Tae-yul!"
Speak of the devil. Tae-yul, snapping out of his daze, looked at Su-ran, who had appeared with truly impeccable timing.
"Want a smoke?"
"You still haven't quit?"
It was almost funny. Nine years ago at his mother's funeral, it had been Su-ran who first taught her nephew how to smoke.
He was actually in the mood to taste that bitter flavor again. Maybe he'd pretend he couldn't resist and reach for one.
"How could you quit smoking when you're surviving in a house where people light up fifteen times a day? Could you manage it?"
"You're only hurting yourself, Aunt."
"You sound exactly like your mother."
Su-ran pulled a cigarette and lighter from her pocket, then paused before lighting it and rolled up her sleeves.
"No, seriously—what on earth is your grandfather saying to An Seol-hye?!"
Her face was flushed with rising heat; it looked like she was ready to continue the half-gossip she had vented at the dinner table.
Listening might actually satisfy some of his curiosity.
"How many years has it been? Since he brought her into the house for good. Three years now?"
She wasn't just someone his grandfather trusted—she actually lived here.
"You know my friend Young-hee, right? She has a golden retriever, and one day she told me the number one in her household hierarchy is the dog itself."
He caught the general meaning and let out a soft chuckle.
"Our family isn't any different. Honestly, An Seol-hye is no different from a dog, yet she ranks higher than any of us?"
Tae-yul, who had been listening in silence, spoke without hesitation.
"An Seol-hye is the Kang-an family's dog?"
The word "dog" felt eerily perfect.
After all, dogs follow whoever feeds them, don't they?
"She is! The dog that cleans up all the shit Do-yul and Cha-yul scatter everywhere!"
A dog that cleans up the mess other dogs make.
"Do you know how arrogant she acts, thinking she's something special just because she's a dog? Of course she does, with your grandfather doting on her like that! Huh? Wait a second."
At that moment, Tae-yul clicked his tongue lightly as he watched Su-ran's expression flip one hundred and eighty degrees when she answered the incoming call.
"Oh! Darling! Hoho, I miss you too!"
Su-ran, who would turn fifty in a couple of days, was a firm believer in staying single. Yet she pursued romance more diligently than anyone, without ever resting.
Tae-yul sent a hollow smile toward Su-ran as she left, waving her hand with her mouth stretched ear to ear.
Anyway, since he knew better than anyone that Su-ran was the type to hate someone forever once they fell from favor, the thought of hearing endless talk about the "dog" from now on already made him feel exhausted.
What hadn't changed even after nine years were that pine tree and Su-ran, but how on earth had that woman An Seol-hye become the 'dog' of this Kang-an family?
It seemed she had channeled her exceptional grit—something that contrasted with her delicate frame—in a truly constructive way. But what now?
Since he had returned, it wouldn't be long before it all came crashing down.
Tae-yul, who had been following the wandering thread of his thoughts, slowly lowered his chin.
Toward his suddenly heavy lower body.
He had no idea what kind of destruction he had been imagining that this thing was raising its head.
There really was no other crazy bastard like this.
Three years should have been enough, shouldn't it? Or had the time been insufficient? A full thirty-six months had passed.
Tae-yul tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slowly.
The reality he found almost impossible to accept felt unbearably uncomfortable.
It seemed like a hasty return, to the point he wanted to reverse it.
But what could he do? It looked like the signal had already gone off.
Seol-hye had just left Fides and was walking briskly toward the study.
The moment she rounded the corner and caught sight of a back figure turning in the same direction, her feet seemed rooted in place and refused to move any farther.
She barely lifted her foot and followed those wide, long strides ahead, step by step, as if chasing after them. Before she realized it, the study was right in front of her.
The instant Seol-hye saw Tae-yul's long arm reaching for the large door, she recalled the duty she had nearly forgotten and stepped forward to fulfill it.
"The Chairman asked me to convey that he would like to speak with you tomorrow."
Tae-yul, who had paused while opening the door, moved his lips—which had begun to go dry—perhaps because of the clear, refreshing voice coming from behind.
A sweet scent brushed the tip of his nose, so potent it made him wonder if saliva would soon pool in his mouth. He realized this was the source of the strange displeasure.
"If you have any message for the Chairman, you may give it to me."
He had been entertaining pointless thoughts—wondering whether the woman emitting such a irritating fragrance had deliberately approached on silent feet, or if he simply hadn't noticed her presence.
"Assuming you have nothing, I will take my leave now."
People were supposed to converse face to face, after all. He suspected a fundamental lack of basic manners.
Well, it had been the same nine years ago. No—in terms of having no foundation at all, that time had been even worse.
According to the words of his aunt that suddenly came to mind, just how deeply was he doting on her that he had no time for a private meeting with him—the one he had forcibly summoned after nine years? The question gnawed at him.
So he turned around. His nape had also grown strangely stiff all of a sudden.
"Director An?"
He was curious about the expression of the 'dog' that barked so well at someone's back.
"Don't ordinary people look at each other's faces when they converse? You're not actually a dog, are you?"
He knew full well that the single sharp syllable embedded in the 'dog's' ear was used to refer to him throughout this vast Kang-an family estate.
"Aren't I right?"
It didn't take him long to admit to himself that his earlier behavior had been unprofessional.
Usually, swift acknowledgment and acceptance could subdue greater anger.
"I apologize. In the future, I will ensure that I cause you no such discomfort."
"Does that even work? When you yourself are an uncomfortable existence?"
The mistake had been failing to consider that universal methods sometimes didn't apply to certain people.
"Shall I explain the reason as well?"
It had been slightly delayed because he had gathered saliva and swallowed hard, but he parted his lips firmly.
"No, sir. Do you have any message for the Chairman?"
"Even if I did, I don't."
From the moment he had deliberately stepped into the Kang-an family, he had fully anticipated and prepared himself for moments like this.
Therefore, he simply had to endure them.
"Then, may I take my leave now?"
"If I told you to stand here all day, would you stand?"
His words caught in his throat because her eyes were so serious that he actually wondered what he would do if she agreed.
It was as if she were asking whether he was prepared to obey every order she gave from now on.
"From now on, look at your opponent before you bark."
When the word "bark" was added, a cold sweat broke out on his back from the icy atmosphere that had settled over the house since her arrival—like the calm before a storm.
"I don't have the kind of face that makes me look that easy, do I?"
Arrogance radiated from the way he swept his palm up and down his own face, yet the sight didn't appear particularly fierce.
Perhaps that was why. His lips no longer obeyed him.
"Don't carelessly spit out words in front of me that you can't even keep."
After that sharp retort, he turned first and crossed the hallway. She could only stare fixedly at his retreating back.
Recalling the old promise she had failed to keep—and would never be able to keep in the future.