Chapter 86: A Week Apart

Han Jung-woo had been gone for a week now.

Even while they were apart, he consistently sent messages, but I never replied. Calls would come in at night, yet I refused to answer them.

Left alone in the spacious house, I mostly slept, sat listlessly, or occasionally took walks in the garden.

That was the extent of my days.

‘This isn’t right,’ I thought.

I was the one who suggested taking time apart, yet staying here felt utterly meaningless.

Han Jung-woo’s scent permeated every corner of the house.

It lingered in the living room, the kitchen, and even the bedroom where I spent most of my time.

Perhaps because of this, my mind was consumed by him.

Everywhere I went, his image invariably surfaced.

I even considered leaving the house, unable to bear it any longer, but his plea for me to stay here kept my feet rooted.

‘That bastard,’ I fumed inwardly.

He had me trapped here, unable to go anywhere, while he might already be meeting Jung Hee-soo.

He could pretend to worry about me in messages, then whisper sweet nothings to Jung Hee-soo on the phone, and I’d be none the wiser.

Therefore, I had to let go of these feelings as quickly as possible.

Before I suffered greater hurt, before I was completely abandoned, it was right for me to leave him.

‘This was never my place to begin with,’ I mused.

Dreams were bound to end eventually; this one had merely been cut short.

If I left him, everything would revert to how it was before.

Both for Han Jung-woo and for myself.

Knowing that I had to leave eventually, even if not immediately, I began packing my belongings the very next day.

When I had first intended to leave in a hurry, I’d been ready to discard everything, but now I had ample time.

I wanted to leave no trace of my stay behind.

The suitcase that had shattered after falling down the stairs was unusable, so I asked the housekeepers to purchase a new one for me.

It seemed slightly larger than my previous one, but that hardly mattered.

There would be little to fill it with anyway.

I went to the dressing room and meticulously folded my clothes, placing them inside.

Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to wear them due to my growing belly, I packed every single item.

‘There’s still so much space,’ I realized.

Even after packing all my clothes, the suitcase was only half full.

I wandered through the house, searching for anything else I might need to take.

I had hoped to find at least one more thing, but to my amusement, there was absolutely nothing.

At most, it would be a toothbrush, which I could simply discard.

‘I’ve been here for quite a while,’ I mused.

While I had intentionally tried not to grow attached, one would expect to accumulate personal belongings over time, yet I had so little.

Returning to the dressing room, I closed the half-empty suitcase.

Perhaps, I thought, if I searched diligently for a few more days, I might uncover another one of my possessions.

Pushing the suitcase out of sight, I exited the dressing room and went straight to my bed.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion from wandering around the house, searching for things to pack, but the moment I pulled the covers over myself and lay down, sleep overwhelmed me.

****

When I next opened my eyes, darkness enveloped everything, as if day had already given way to night.

Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I shifted my body, only to find the texture of the blanket strangely different.

It felt softer than I remembered.

‘What is this?’ I wondered.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom, my surroundings began to materialize.

I had definitely fallen asleep in the bedroom, yet I was now in the middle of the dressing room.

Moreover, what I had mistaken for a blanket was actually a pile of clothes.

Not just one, but several garments, covering my body like a makeshift nest.

Unless someone had moved me, it meant I had come here on my own, yet I had no recollection of it whatsoever.

Rising from the mound of clothes, I left the dressing room and checked the bed, where the distinct impression of a body still remained.

‘Could Han Jung-woo have come here?’ I wondered, a prickle of unease.

Before my anxiety could escalate, I needed to confirm the truth.

Finding my phone, I intended to contact him. As I switched on the screen, a message he had sent ten minutes prior appeared.

[Be sure to eat dinner, and don’t nap too much.]

[You won’t be able to sleep tonight if you do.]

Judging solely by the messages, it seemed he hadn’t visited the house.

That meant I must have stumbled into the dressing room in my sleep, rummaged through the clothes, and then fallen asleep there again.

‘It’s just exhaustion. Pure exhaustion,’ I reassured myself.

Things done in one’s sleep rarely came to mind clearly, so I assumed that was the case.

After all, it wasn’t a major incident; merely disarranging the dressing room was hardly cause for concern.

Sighing with relief, I sat on the edge of the bed and reread his messages.

Only after time passed and the screen went dark could I tear my gaze away from my phone.

‘I should just eat dinner,’ I decided.

Setting aside my deepening worries for a moment, I went downstairs to the first floor for dinner.

Just in case, I asked the housekeepers, and they confirmed that Han Jung-woo had indeed not been home.

“If Director Han had arrived, there’s no way we wouldn’t know,” one housekeeper said.

“Hasn’t it been weeks since he last came in?”

“Who knows when he’ll return?”

The housekeepers seemed unaware of why Han Jung-woo wasn’t coming home, and simply wished for his swift return.

Indeed, Han Jung-woo was the owner of this house, not me.

Thinking that leaving was truly the right decision, I finished the rest of my meal.

After barely finishing a bowl of food, and before returning to my room, I asked the nearest housekeeper if she could tidy the dressing room.

Fearing she might be surprised upon seeing the mess inside, I added that it would be quite disheveled, but the housekeeper simply smiled and said it was fine.

“Just a moment, please. I’ll let you know once I’m done,” she replied.

“Yes, thank you.”

While the housekeepers organized the dressing room, I remained in the living room, not my bedroom.

With nothing else to do, I turned on the TV and flipped through channels until I found a familiar variety show.

The people on screen were laughing, but I couldn’t manage even a single smile.

My eyes were on the screen, yet my thoughts were elsewhere entirely, making it impossible to concentrate.

“Seo-jin, I’m finished tidying up,” the housekeeper called, addressing my distant state.

Instead of offering a verbal thanks, I simply bowed my head, then switched off the TV and returned to my room.

‘It’s neat again,’ I thought, relieved.

Feeling a sense of calm return as I saw the dressing room restored to its usual order, I went back to my bed.

I instinctively started to lie down, but then remembered I had just eaten, so I leaned back against the headboard instead.

‘Perhaps I should read a book,’ I mused.

Next to the drawer stood a low bookshelf.

Han Jung-woo used to enjoy pulling out a book from there, switching on the mood lamp, and reading before falling asleep.

I’d often asked him what he found so interesting, only to recoil in dismay at the titles he’d mention, which sounded incredibly difficult.

‘Then again, Seon Woo-jung also liked reading,’ I recalled.

It had been difficult to see even their tastes align so closely, but now all that was in the past.

For me, Han Jung-woo had long been Han Jung-woo, and Seon Woo-jung was Seon Woo-jung.

I reached out, pulled a random book from the shelf, and glanced at its title.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem too challenging. After all, scripts were also a form of reading, and I handled those well enough, so this should be fine.

With that confidence, I turned the cover and managed to read through the table of contents without much trouble.

However, the moment I delved into the main text, difficult words were strung together one after another, and I eventually gave up, closing the book.

Since it was in my native language, I could technically read it, but dissecting each word’s meaning wasn’t to my taste.

A lighthearted romance, on the other hand, would have been much easier to get through.

Though, I doubted Han Jung-woo would appreciate such stories.

‘This is boring,’ I thought.

As I went to place the book on the drawer, a small memo fluttered out and fell.

It appeared to be hastily scribbled, but I couldn’t make sense of what it said.

“Camera, checking…?” I mumbled, deciphering what little I could.

That was all I could recognize of the handwriting.

Someone was checking something related to a camera, which I assumed was work-related, and my interest quickly waned.

After returning the book to its spot, I lay on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Perhaps thanks to the small shock I’d just experienced, my mind felt hazy, and thoughts of Han Jung-woo didn’t intrude.

Yet, that solace didn’t last long.

‘Was I being too greedy?’ I pondered.

I should have simply left when the time came, but perhaps I’d been punished like this for wishing to stay by his side, even just for a little longer.

Coveting what wasn’t mine was an act only a villain would commit.

‘But I didn’t do anything truly evil,’ I reasoned.

Though I had briefly intended to steal Han Jung-woo from Jung Hee-soo forever, I hadn’t committed any truly wicked deeds like in the original story, and I comforted myself with that relief.

At the very least, I wouldn’t end up in prison like in the drama, so Yoo Seo-jin’s family would be safe.

My mother, Yoo Hae-jung, and even the annoying Yoo Ju-jin.

‘That’s enough,’ I concluded.

My initial goal, which I had almost forgotten, had been achieved.

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