I Hate It
Hearing Choi Hyun-seo’s words, Icheon-daek replied carefully. “Yes, I understand. But madam has been sending them again and again.”
Choi Hyun-seo’s cold eyes turned even sharper as he fixed Icheon-daek with a gaze that was more piercing than ever. The look alone would have been enough to make most people flinch. Min Tae-yeon, watching from the side, held her breath.
“Just throw them all away.”
“What?”
Icheon-daek stood frozen, unable to answer, and the tension in the room thickened. A voice broke through the silence—Min Tae-yeon’s, soft yet steady.
“Um… just throwing them out feels so wasteful. What if we cook the pig’s trotters instead?”
Having always believed that discarding food was unthinkable, she looked at Icheon-daek and added, “I’ll eat the pig’s trotters.”
“Pig’s trotters?”
“Yes, pig’s trotters. Simmer them with soy sauce and they’ll be delicious. Director, don’t you eat pig’s trotters?”
“Pig’s trotters?”
Choi Hyun-seo gave an indifferent shrug at the sudden talk of trotters. “Do as you like. Either way, I never want to see pig’s trotters again. Don’t put them on the table. And…”
His gaze shifted to Min Tae-yeon. Conscious of Icheon-daek’s presence, he spoke more firmly. “Don’t force yourself to eat while pretending. If you insist on trying… well. If you don’t eat them, I’ll compensate you.”
Compensate? With pig’s trotters that would make one want to vomit, and compensation on top? Looking into his eyes, the offer felt anything but kind. Pig’s trotters now made her stomach churn at the mere sight, and she hadn’t been able to eat normally because of them. How could she stomach a single bowl when the broth was so thick? She had already thrown up from them more times than she cared to count. She never imagined Choi Hyun-seo would step in to help. And compensation?
“If you’re determined to eat them, then do. I won’t force anything.”
“No! I’m not eating them. I hate the trotters, and I hate the broth even more. I’ll never touch them in my life.”
The honest words poured out without hesitation. So quickly and desperately did she speak that Choi Hyun-seo stared at her, then burst into laughter. Watching him laugh silently, Min Tae-yeon slipped a slice of doraji muchim into her mouth. The bitterness vanished at once, and her stomach felt light and clear as she ate without a word. She no longer had to worry about pig’s trotters. It felt as though she had become a milk-producing cow—though the milk never came.
This had to be the ultimate difficulty level. Had other marriages been this hard? Or was it simply because the entire arrangement was a lie?
By the time the meal ended and they rose, Icheon-daek approached with Yun-woo in her arms. The boy beamed with joy, his thick hair neatly combed.
“Director, would you like to hold Yun-woo for a moment?”
When Icheon-daek placed the child in his arms, Choi Hyun-seo held him awkwardly. Even as a baby he had refused to pick up infants, and as far as Min Tae-yeon could tell, he was not the kind of father who showed the same fierce love he did for Yun-woo. He rocked the boy gently, then glanced at Icheon-daek.
“You’ve grown so much. You seem a bit heavier.”
“Yes, he’s gained a lot. He’s a healthy baby. Healthy baby.”
Yun-woo babbled happily, his whole face glowing. Choi Hyun-seo stared at him a moment longer before handing him back to Icheon-daek.
How much love for a son did it take to hire a substitute mother for the one who had died?
Min Tae-yeon watched Yun-woo reach for her, body tilting toward her, and smiled as she stepped forward to catch him in both arms. He had been raised calling her “Mom” from the very first day, and now he only wanted her.
Even when he sucked on an empty bottle, the sucking reflex was there—instinct or otherwise. He would start to cry if she didn’t give him milk. How long would she have to endure this? Yet the warmth of his mouth was strangely comforting.
“Our little Yun-woo. You missed Mommy? Oh, you’re so cute. You’re drooling.”
Drool poured down his chin, soaking the bib. While they locked eyes and cooed, Choi Hyun-seo disappeared upstairs without another word.
Min Tae-yeon carried Yun-woo to the large olive tree pot in the corner. As she set it down, he reached out and grabbed a leaf with surprising strength.
“Ah! Yun-woo!”
The leaves drifted down. Icheon-daek and Min Tae-yeon both laughed. His grip was so firm that forcing him to let go meant peeling each finger open one by one. He would be a stubborn child when he grew up. Like Choi Hyun-seo.
* * *
Choi Hyun-seo sat at his desk in the upstairs study, reviewing documents before setting them aside and listening. He was waiting for Min Tae-yeon’s footsteps to climb the stairs. Tonight, he had no intention of waiting until late.
“What exactly is she doing down there?”
He descended the stairs to check on the living room. A drama played on the television. Min Tae-yeon, Icheon-daek, and Yun-woo sat together on the couch. The boy nestled against her knee, babbling and gnawing on a toy.
“Can you really let him chew on that?”
As Choi Hyun-seo approached, the warm atmosphere shifted into something icy.
“Oh, Director, you’re back. Were we too loud with the TV? You came down because of the noise.”
“No. Please bring me a glass of water.”
Min Tae-yeon stood, still holding Yun-woo. Choi Hyun-seo frowned at the boy, who was still sucking loudly on the toy.
“Yun-woo, is it really okay to chew on things like this?”
His gaze demanded an answer. Tae-yeon gave the calm, professional reply she would have offered her boss.
“Oh, that? Yun-woo is teething, so he’s chewing a lot. Lots of drool too. He needs something to bite. It’s silicone and safe. I checked the origin—made in a country with the strictest infant standards. It should be fine. We boil it often to sterilize too.”
Every detail had been carefully chosen; she could have given a flawless product presentation. Proud of her report, she felt a surge of confidence. But Choi Hyun-seo let out a sigh along with a dry chuckle.
This wasn’t a company presentation.
“So he’s chewing on it because he’s teething? Not a rat?”
A rat? He was asking an infant if it was a rat? Min Tae-yeon found the question absurd, yet she explained calmly.
“It’s normal teething progress.”
Choi Hyun-seo’s mood darkened. She looked so absorbed in Yun-woo that she had no intention of coming upstairs. The three of them—her, Icheon-daek, and Yun-woo—felt like one family. He alone was missing.
‘One family…’
“Not coming up?”
At those words, Icheon-daek immediately offered Choi Hyun-seo a drink. “Oh, you must have been waiting for Madam.”
He took the glass without answering, drank it down, then handed it back. “Come up.”
The simple request made her cheeks flush. Icheon-daek took her hand and whispered, “Oh, Yun-woo and I will put him to bed. You two newlyweds should go upstairs early, Director. You must have come early on purpose.”
“No, it’s not like that.”
At her denial, Icheon-daek’s gaze drifted to her neck. A clear kiss mark from the night before stood out against her skin.
She had endured worse words from Oh Jin-hee and received ten million won into her account as compensation, but tonight she did not want to be in Choi Hyun-seo’s arms.
Yet she could not stay. Climbing the stairs slowly in the careful habit she had formed, she glanced up. His face looked down at her from above.
“Is there something you need?”
“You’re waiting for Min Tae-yeon, right?”
Even with her salary tripled, the title “assistant manager” still rankled her. Annoyed for no reason, she shot back, “Don’t you think you should call me by a different title?”
“Is there a problem with my rank?”
“I transferred here after my salary tripled, and when I transferred I was promoted in rank. So I’m still only an assistant manager.”
Was this a joke or liquor talking? How had she suddenly said such a thing? The words hung in the air, and Choi Hyun-seo paused, tilting his head as if considering.
“Then I’ll call you ‘section chief’?”
“Yes.”
At that, he laughed out loud.
“Contract employee and you want to be promoted? Then I’ll happily call you ‘section chief.’ How does that sound, Min section chief? Does it please you?”
The hunger in his eyes seemed to tighten around her throat. He took one step closer. She instinctively retreated one step and nodded.
“Yes, Director.”
When he moved closer still, she took another step back until her back met the wall. Pressed against it, she looked up at him. He stood so near that his body brushed hers. She tilted her head to meet his gaze. A hard, throbbing heat pressed against her lower belly. Her skin burned. When she drew in a sharp breath, her swollen body pressed tightly to his chest.
He looked down at her with gleaming eyes, then lifted her skirt and slid his hand inside. The gentle stroke of his fingers over her soft flesh, pressing exactly where it mattered, made her whimper.
“Hah!”
The deliberate stimulation was relentless. Caught in the sudden arch of her back, the thought she had been holding inside spilled out.
“I don’t want it today.”