Chapter 70: The Weight of Kindness

It had become a daily ritual for Han Jung-woo to rush to me immediately after work, asking what I wanted to eat.

If I ever claimed to have no particular craving, he would patiently wait until an idea struck me. Thus, I had to decide on dinner before he even arrived.

Dining out daily, I felt as though I had put on some weight compared to before. While showering, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, noticing my jawline had softened slightly.

‘I really shouldn’t gain any more weight.’

Though I was no longer an entertainer, and thus didn’t need rigorous management, I couldn’t help but be sensitive to weight fluctuations, having controlled my physique since childhood.

Fortunately, the change wasn’t drastic. I felt confident that with some light exercise and diet control, I could quickly return to my original state. Of course, that meant an end to dining out.

Leaving the mirror, I settled onto the sofa and watched TV. I flipped through channels, eventually stopping at a drama I recognized, though I naturally couldn’t recall its plot.

My interest quickly waned, yet my gaze remained fixed on the actors moving across the screen. I let time drift by meaninglessly in this dazed state before finally switching off the television.

With nothing to do, I considered going to my room for a nap, when suddenly, a vibration echoed from somewhere. Following the sound, I discovered an unfamiliar phone lying there.

‘Whose could this be?’

My own phone had been off and tucked away in a drawer for ages. It must be Han Jung-woo’s then, yet I recalled his phone being a different model entirely.

As my curiosity deepened regarding the phone’s owner, the vibration ceased, and a missed call notification appeared on the screen.

Just as I leaned in to examine the now silent phone more closely, it suddenly vibrated again. My finger slipped, and I inadvertently pressed the call button.

“Oh, no!”

Though I tried to salvage the situation, the call was already connecting. Abruptly hanging up now seemed equally strange, so I cautiously began the conversation, hoping to identify the phone’s owner.

“Hello?”

—….

“Um, I found this phone…”

As I stammered through my explanation, the person on the other end remained silent. I wondered if the call had disconnected, but that wasn’t the case.

“Hello? Are you there—”

—Yoo Seo-jin.

The voice that finally spoke was incredibly familiar. My eyes wide, I checked the number displayed on the screen. I hadn’t noticed earlier in my fluster, but upon closer inspection, it was Han Jung-woo’s.

“Han Jung-woo?”

—Yes, it’s Han Jung-woo.

He suppressed a laugh, hearing the bewildered tone of my voice, and kindly stated his name. Only then, realizing the phone belonged to him, did I finally relax.

“You left your phone behind.”

—Yes, I did.

His voice was still laced with amusement. It seemed my flustered stammering had been quite entertaining to him; he was truly a vexing man.

—What were you doing?

“I was just sitting.”

—Doing nothing at all?

“I was watching TV until a little while ago.”

He seemed curious about my rather monotonous daily life. All I ever did was lie on the sofa, watch TV, or float idly in the pool if the mood struck me.

“What about you, Han Jung-woo?”

—I’m working, of course.

A faint rustle of papers occasionally drifted through the receiver. While the era of daily overtime seemed to have passed, he was clearly still busy.

His secretary had subtly hinted that he had been working relentlessly at the company recently, with no time to spare, all to ensure he could leave on time.

He always told me to eat well, yet his secretary also let slip that he often skipped lunch, overwhelmed by work.

—Have you thought about what you’d like to eat today?

“Hmm, just a simple salad today.”

—Will that be enough to fill you up?

He asked, his tone conveying utter disbelief. While a bucketful of salad might barely suffice for his usual intake, it was certainly enough for me.

“How about we don’t eat out for a while and just have meals at home?”

—Well, if that’s what Yoo Seo-jin wants.

Contrary to my apprehension, he readily accepted my suggestion. I had worried he might insist on dining out no matter what, so this was a fortunate turn of events.

—Yoo Seo-jin.

“Yes?”

—I miss you.

Stunned by the sudden confession, I was speechless. He then declared it was time to return to work, ending the call with a promise to see me that evening.

Though the screen had long since gone black, I remained frozen, phone still in hand, for a considerable time. When I finally lowered my arm, a fiery heat had risen to my face.

‘Am I coming down with a cold?’

I pressed the back of my hand against my cheek and fanned myself, but the heat, once risen, refused to dissipate easily. Unable to bear it any longer, I stripped off my top and slipped into the swimming pool.

Floating aimlessly on my back, gazing at the sky, the fever eventually subsided to some extent. This time, however, my heart was the problem. It thumped, a remarkably loud rhythm.

The kinder Han Jung-woo became, the more complicated I felt inside. The man who should have been utterly cold towards Yoo Seo-jin was now behaving with more warmth than a summer’s sun.

Even with a resolute heart, no one can remain unaffected by such tenderness. Especially for someone as starved for affection as I was, his demeanor felt like a sweet poison.

‘I know, this feeling won’t last forever.’

I knew now that his words—his declarations of liking me, of missing me—were no longer lies. Yet, if asked how long this affection would endure, I would likely answer, ‘Not very long.’

Therefore, I resolved not to attach too much significance to his feelings. Ultimately, I would be the one left behind, the one to be hurt.

For now, I decided to simply believe I was living a happy dream, just as he had said. A dream from which I would eventually awaken, but one I could still recall with a smile.

‘I’ll be fine.’

Pushing aside the vague anxieties of the future, I held my breath and plunged deep underwater. Below the surface, it was quiet and serene.

****

Click, click—the deafening sound of flashes erupting from all directions filled my ears. The blinding lights repeatedly turned my vision white before fading, until soon, I could see nothing at all.

‘Why am I here?’

My last memory was finishing my swim, returning to my room, and falling asleep in my cozy bed, enveloped by the fragrant scent of fabric softener. Why I was standing here now was a mystery.

Yoo Seo-jin wouldn’t ever have to stand before so many cameras like this.

“Are the sponsorship rumors true?”

“Please explain, Yoo Joon-hee!”

Sharp voices began to assault me in unison. Amidst the overlapping clamor, only two words rang out clearly: ‘Sponsor,’ ‘Yoo Joon-hee.’

Only then did I realize. The forgotten trauma buried deep in my memory had resurfaced as a dream. I had believed I’d erased it all, but it seemed I was mistaken.

“I—”

I managed to open my mouth, yet it felt as though I was shouting into empty air. Perhaps I had already known, even then, that no matter what I said, they had no intention of listening.

‘I can’t—breathe—’

As the meaningless echoes ceased, my chest tightened painfully, making it impossible to breathe. Even as I collapsed to the ground, the crowd continued to snap their camera shutters.

‘I want to escape.’

I searched for an exit, but saw nothing. Meanwhile, the distant figures drew closer, their camera lenses encircling me.

Overwhelmed by the suffocating terror, I surrendered, closing my eyes and abandoning all hope. Would it not be easier to simply let go of everything? After all, no one seemed to want me alive anyway.

—.

As my consciousness faded, I heard a voice calling my name. Slowly, I opened my eyes, and through my wavering vision, an familiar face appeared.

“Are you alright?”

…….

“Your complexion looked awful, so I woke you up.”

I stared at his worried face, unsure if I was still dreaming or if this was reality. I couldn’t tell if he was Han Jung-woo or Seon Woo-jung.

“You were drenched in cold sweat, so I thought we should go to the hospital—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as I suddenly threw my arms around him. Taking a deep breath, an familiar scent filled my senses.

Ah, it finally clicked. This was the perfume Seon Woo-jung used to wear often—a scent reminiscent of crisp winter air. This had to be a dream.

“Jung-ah.”

Tears flowed freely as I called out the beloved name. I knew it was a dream, yet he was right here in front of me. I would eventually wake up, but I didn’t want to let go.

“Please, don’t leave me alone.”

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