Chapter 20: A Different Kind of Evening

The phone call from Youngchae demanding money.

She had taken out her phone to transfer the money but had forgotten about it after talking to Haejun.

Or perhaps she had used that as an excuse to pretend she forgot.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Huh? Oh. It’s probably just a loan advertisement.”

The phone rang persistently even as Jiheum tried to act casual while putting the empty dishes and utensils into the sink.

“I’ll do the dishes.”

Seungji took the dishes, put them in the sink, and put on the rubber gloves.

The phone, which had stopped, began to ring again.

“It doesn’t look like the dishes are the urgent part.”

Seungji gestured toward the living room, indicating that she should probably answer.

Jiheum reluctantly took off her gloves and walked to the living room.

When she pulled out her phone, the caller ID ‘X’ was visible on the screen.

If she didn’t answer, she would come to the house.

If she did, she didn’t even have the money to give anyway.

She wondered what she was supposed to do.

– Hello—

– Do you have any idea what time it is!

Youngchae’s sharp, shrill shout pierced through her ear without warning.

Jiheum squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the volume down key.

Fearing Seungji might hear, she walked slowly toward the balcony window.

– Why haven’t you sent the money yet!

– I never said I would send it.

– Oh, come on. You said you’d send two million. Send it. Right now.

– I clearly said I don’t have any money!

She shouted back in a low voice and stole a glance at Seungji.

Seungji seemed absorbed in the dishes and didn’t seem to be paying attention.

While she felt a silent relief, a young boy’s voice came through the receiver.

– Mom, what about dinner?

– Oh? My son. Are you done studying? I’ll set the table now. Just a second.

The Youngchae who had been screaming at her just a moment ago was gone.

Jiheum pressed her hand to her forehead and furrowed her brows at the voice that had melted into something soft and tender.

How could there be such a difference in temperature?

They had both been carried in the same womb for ten months before being brought into the world.

Youngchae continued to spout whatever she wanted, oblivious to—or perhaps ignoring—the hollow feeling inside Jiheum at that gap that would never be bridged.

– Send it right now! Don’t do something you’ll regret.

The call was cut off with a threat.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips.

She was sick of being constantly entangled with someone she should avoid, but she was also sick of herself for not being able to cut ties easily.

It would only end once the money was sent anyway.

Jiheum shook her head slightly, transferred the 2 million won, and immediately sent a message to Youngchae.

[Please, just keep your promise.]

She knew it wouldn’t be kept, but she couldn’t let herself be dragged around any longer.

From blind dates to marriage—Gwano was the type of person who would push his will through, and if Youngchae interfered with his life again, he wasn’t the type to sit still.

The mistake had been not cutting Youngchae off properly from the start.

It began as a way to repay her for not abandoning her in an orphanage and raising her as a single mother.

But after nearly ten years of having money extorted from her, the desire to provide such compensation had long since vanished.

Now, it was nothing more than hush money paid out of fear that she might go around blabbing about her being a bastard.

She stared blankly at her emptying bank account balance with her head hung low.

A hollow laugh escaped her at the thought that she could be free from Youngchae for a while, at least as long as the money lasted.

Jiheum was turning around after setting down her phone when she met Seungji’s eyes.

It seemed the few dishes were already finished.

Seungji stopped wiping the table with a wet tissue and asked cautiously.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“What’s going on? Is it something I shouldn’t know?”

“It’s nothing much.”

Jiheum forced a smile, walked to the sofa, and tossed her phone down.

She then approached Seungji.

She looked at the clean table with an apologetic gaze.

“I should have cleaned it. Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter who cleans it. Is it your sister? Did she tell you to come home early?”

Seungji rolled her eyes, observing Jiheum’s expression to grasp the situation.

Unlike herself, who wore her heart on her sleeve, she felt hurt whenever she saw Jiheum drawing lines and building walls.

Today was no different.

Normally, she would have just ignored it and moved on.

But she felt a bit slighted that Jiheum only mentioned the canceled one-on-one appointment with Haejun after the fact.

Perhaps that was why she was picking at her.

Even so, she hoped that just once, Jiheum would open up and tell her everything.

Something more than just the secrets shared only between Haejun and Jiheum.

“No. It’s not like that.”

“Is it something you can’t tell me?”

Seungji found herself wiping the same spot over and over with the tissue, her eyes fixed only on Jiheum’s lips.

“……”

“I guess I put you in a difficult spot.”

Seungji tossed the wet tissue into the trash can.

Jiheum felt uneasy, as the way the tissue was hurled seemed to represent Seungji’s feelings.

“Actually, the thing is…”

She wondered where she should even begin.

Should she just come out and say she wasn’t an adoptee but a bastard?

Should she say that Jiyoon had treated her that way all this time because she was an illegitimate child?

Should she say the call just now was from her biological mother demanding money?

Trapped in a whirlpool of confusion, not a single word escaped her lips.

She knew Seungji was waiting in silence for her to speak, but she couldn’t summon the courage.

“Uh, well, you see.”

“Yeah, what is it?”

She was hesitating with her lips trembling when the phone lying on the sofa began to ring again.

‘I told you I sent the money. Why are you calling again?’

Jiheum glared fiercely at the sofa.

“Isn’t it an important call?”

“I doubt it.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, I don’t want to force myself to listen either.”

Seungji grumbled lightly and gestured for her to answer the phone quickly.

Jiheum reluctantly approached the sofa.

Her grip loosened on the phone she had snatched up roughly.

She had assumed it was Youngchae, but the phone was displaying an unfamiliar, unsaved number.

Only then did she realize the ringtone was different, having been so preoccupied with how to handle the situation.

She caught her breath for a moment and pressed the answer button.

“Yes, hello?”

– Is this Yoon Jiheum?

Though it was only a single sentence, she felt an overwhelming weight and her whole body instinctively tensed up.

“Yes, who is this?”

– It’s Ki Joyoon. Where are you right now?

In contrast to the wary Jiheum, Joyoon sent laughter through his response.

“I’m out. What is it?”

– Dinner? Have you had dinner?

“……Why do you ask?”

Jiheum felt a brief conflict over the simple statement of whether she had eaten.

They weren’t in a relationship where he could just call out of the blue and ask if she had dinner.

– If not, I’d like to eat together.

“You haven’t had dinner, sir?”

– No. Be my dinner companion.

“Ah…”

– Did you already have dinner?

“No. Not yet.”

A lie slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since she had finished a whole bowl of rice with green onion kimchi.

Jiheum covered her face with her palm, feeling needlessly embarrassed.

She felt humiliated, even though there was no way he could know she was lying.

– Then come.

The words ‘Why should I?’ almost escaped her lips.

She didn’t know much about Ki Joyoon, but would he have called for a dinner companion without a reason?

The question burrowed into her mind.

Still, she didn’t want to meet him so recklessly.

It was their fate to run into each other at the office anyway.

If she could avoid it, she just wanted to avoid it.

“Ah, no. I don’t really have an appetite.”

– Mmm… I didn’t intend to do it this way.

Joyoon’s whisper, muttered lowly as if to himself, made Jiheum’s whole body prickle.

Her eyes wavered with anxiety, looking dazed as if she were under an irresistible spell.

– Shall I go to you? Or will you come to me, Ms. Jiheum?

“Excuse me, ha… does my refusal not matter at all?”

– You aren’t going to refuse, Ms. Jiheum.

Ha… a soft sigh escaped her, and she quickly pressed her lips together.

She was beginning to wonder where such confidence even came from.

– That personal time of yours I asked for. Give it to me now.

“Is there a reason I should give you my personal time?”

– You must be curious. About what kind of proposal I’m going to make.

He was the one who had called her to the office yesterday and said he had a proposal for her.

Did he think she had made up her mind in just one day?

Or was it a proposal where she never had a choice in the first place?

“I’m not particularly—”

– Don’t say you aren’t curious. I think my feelings would be hurt.

He cut her off nonchalantly with a voice that didn’t sound hurt at all.

It felt like any further conversation would just be a game of words.

As she turned around, wondering what to do, she met Seungji’s eyes staring intently at her.

Seeing Seungji standing there like a useless sack of grain, her will to continue the call vanished.

“Fine. Where should I go?”

– I’ll send you a text.

“Okay.”

Silence fell once she hung up.

Seungji’s gaze wouldn’t leave her, clearly wanting her to say something.

Jiheum gave an awkward smile and merely brushed back her hair.

Ding.

A text notification rang out like a savior.

Jiheum quickly checked her phone.

A short address was written there.