1.
Kang-woo pulled Na-eun into a tighter embrace. A faint moan escaped her lips.
“Let’s make today Day One. Don’t think about anything else.”
“If either one of us says let’s break up, we go through with it.”
Na-eun looked at Kang-woo, as if speaking to herself.
“That goes without saying. If one person wants to end it, clinging to them… that just doesn’t work.”
Na-eun nodded at Kang-woo’s words.
“That’s right. So….”
“So, don’t talk about breaking up, and let’s just stay in this moment together.”
Kang-woo kissed Na-eun deeply. Her body was feverish, unable to settle. She wanted this heat to burn even brighter, yet at the same time, she wished it would simply subside and turn to ash. She wanted all worries and all desires to vanish completely. For now, the passion she felt for this man was too intense.
Kang-woo did not let Na-eun go, holding her again and again throughout the night. Na-eun felt a growing fear that she would become too accustomed to the warmth of his embrace.
***
Days felt arduous and long, yet she didn’t know why a week had passed so quickly. The weekend ended, and after a whirlwind Monday, it had somehow slipped away to Friday. Since tomorrow was the weekend, the children could sleep in a little later. In truth, it was Na-eun who wanted to sleep in. However, perhaps out of habit, the children woke at their usual time and came bounding toward her.
Lately, there were times she would spend the night with Kang-woo and fall asleep on the second floor, which always made her nervous, wondering if the children would go looking for her downstairs. Fortunately, her fears had not materialized.
Today was a late night for Kang-woo. After putting the children to bed, Na-eun stepped outside and stretched her arms wide. The stuffy indoor air was a testament to how excitedly the children had played that evening.
As she opened the window, the cold December air rushed inside. It felt refreshing, not biting. Looking up at the night sky, she saw the constellation Orion shining brightly. It was the only winter constellation she knew. She had only opened the door for a moment, but the indoor temperature had already dipped by a degree.
Na-eun closed the door, stretched once more, and shook off her fatigue. She hadn’t realized how precious this quiet time at the end of the day truly was.
She carefully took out her tablet. It wasn’t something she brought out when the children were around, as they would rush over, eager to touch it. As she tapped into a folder, photos of cookies and children’s meals she had created over time were neatly aligned, welcoming her into the gallery.
The first thing she saw were the walnut and almond cookies the children loved. The crunchy, nutty treats were one of Han Jiho’s favorite snacks; he constantly begged her to make them. They were also the cookies Kang-woo had eaten four of, only to complain nonsensically about why she allowed him to overeat. Just looking at the photos brought a flood of memories.
Next to them were photos of pumpkin muffins. Minho especially loved these, which blended soft pumpkin with fragrant cinnamon. Minho favored soft textures. Apple cinnamon scones, low-salt, low-sugar oatmeal cookies, and even banana chocolate chip bread that melted on the tongue—the colorful snacks she had crafted for the children’s health remained in the photos, one by one, like proof of her devotion.
Na-eun smiled as she scrolled. If she kept building this up, she thought she might be able to create some truly wonderful lecture materials. The idea put her in a good mood.
Na-eun was curating lecture content to prepare for the future. She believed that by filming videos featuring healthy, delicious recipes that children adored, she could share her know-how and earn a small income. She prepared these during her spare time, after the children were asleep.
On the table sat the Matcha White Chocolate Chip Cookies she had made for the children’s snack that evening. Na-eun, feeling a sense of pride, turned on her camera. The cookies were baked perfectly round and golden, the chocolate chips shimmering softly under the light.
Through the slight cracks, the scent of matcha and melted chocolate wafted out; she could almost taste the warmth through her sense of smell.
“I made them, but this is truly art. Just looking at them makes them seem so delicious.”
Na-eun whispered to herself as she carefully rearranged the cookies. Then, she began to capture them. Every time she took a picture, her eyes, filled with anticipation, were reflected on the screen. Whenever she saw her hard work captured within the small display, a surge of passion grew in her chest.
She pressed save and looked at the screen. One more had been added. Someday, these would be shared with many, potentially providing her with an income. The thought was immensely gratifying.
Just then, the door opened, and Kang-woo entered. It was quite late. Seeing the fatigue on his face, Na-eun felt a strange sense of pity.
“You’re very late today, Representative.”
“Yes. Did you have a good day, Na-eun?”
“I did. I put the kids to bed well, too.”
“It smells wonderful.”
Kang-woo inhaled deeply, savoring the scent.
“They’re Matcha White Chocolate Chip Cookies.”
“Matcha cookies? Do the kids like things like that?”
Na-eun smiled, her eyes sparkling.
“Yes. They eat them because they have chocolate in them. Since it’s late, I can’t offer you any.”
“Not at all. I’m feeling a bit peckish, so I’ll have some with a cup of tea before I sleep.”
“Then go wash up and come back down. I’ll prepare some tea.”
“Thank you.”
Na-eun prepared the cookies and some Lemon Balm Tea. The tea was characterized by a refreshing scent and sweet taste, known for relaxing the body and mind—perfect for easing fatigue. Sometimes Na-eun drank it, too. The lemon scent spread subtly, pairing well with the cookies.
Her interest in various teas had grown for exactly this reason. She wanted to create a dessert recipe lecture that the whole family could enjoy by pairing children’s cookies with teas suitable for adult refreshments.
She was just about to plate the cookies and steep the tea when she heard Kang-woo’s voice behind her.
“What is all this? This is incredible. You were preparing so many recipes?”
He must have seen the tablet on the table.
“I haven’t shown this to anyone.”
Na-eun set the cookies down and picked up the tablet.
“It doesn’t seem like a special secret, does it?”
“This is my own personal recipe. I’m planning to make lecture content later. Once you’re in a kindergarten, you realize parents are all very interested in things like this. There isn’t a single person raising children who doesn’t care about what their kids eat.”
“So that’s why your skills are so exceptional. I had two of those cookies stolen by that guy Dowan. He only took three.”
Na-eun burst into laughter.
“He actually steals those?”
“He calls me ‘Representative’ at other times, but when it comes to food, he asks how a senior could do that and just snatches them away. It’s truly absurd.”
“You must have had a tiring day, seeing as you’re so late.”
“Yes.”
As Na-eun noted, he had indeed had a tiring day. Director Son Young-seok had caused trouble, having intercepted the rights to a new cable channel for his own benefit.
Kang-woo was considering how to handle him. Since Son was a pivotal figure, Kang-woo was debating whether to wrap it up at an appropriate level or to cut out the rot from the start. That deliberation was why he was so late.
Kang-woo, having taken a bite of a cookie, whistled.
“This could really be sold in a shop.”
“A shop is out of the question. How could I run a business while raising the kids? I’m preparing video lectures because I think if I keep posting them, it could eventually become a decent income. It’s still in the works, but I think it could be helpful to people, and it wouldn’t be a problem for raising Jiho.”
Everything she said was sensible. Na-eun’s image—preparing for the future step by step in such a humble way—was beautiful. He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt that human passion was beautiful. Kang-woo was smiling faintly when Na-eun changed the subject.
“By the way, doesn’t Minho’s father come to Korea? Even if they are divorced, usually people meet their mothers, but it seems he doesn’t come to visit at all.”
At that, Kang-woo sipped his Lemon Balm Tea slowly and set it down.
“It seems he didn’t explain that part to you clearly, Na-eun. Minho’s mother has remarried. She is pregnant now.”
“Ah.”
At Kang-woo’s words, Na-eun didn’t know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut.