*Startle.*
Jeong-o reacted a beat late.
She had been completely captivated by him—he was smiling exactly as he had seven years ago.
When she showed signs of discomfort, Ji-Heon immediately pulled back his hand.
The air inside the restaurant turned stiflingly hot.
*I shouldn’t have brought up my ex.*
Afraid that if she kept talking she would make another slip of the tongue, Jeong-o immediately changed the subject, steering it straight to the point of today’s meeting.
“Since I’ve told you about myself, please tell me about yourself, Director.”
“…….”
“I heard you were in a car accident. A few years ago.”
She opened the conversation cautiously. Ji-Heon responded with a gaze of mild surprise; he hadn’t expected her to know about his accident.
“Seven years ago.”
“Were you hurt badly?”
“I was quite injured, but I’m fully recovered now.”
“I heard… you lost your memories.”
It was a bold question, the kind that would be difficult to ask even if they were close.
Tense, Jeong-o watched Ji-Heon’s reaction, worried he might take offense. As his eyes narrowed, she swallowed hard.
But for some reason, there seemed to be a faint hint of amusement in his gaze. It was as if he found her curiosity interesting.
“You know quite a lot about me, don’t you?”
“……I, I saw a news article.”
Jeong-o stammered at his retort.
“There shouldn’t be my name in any news articles.”
“…….”
“Did you look me up one by one out of curiosity?”
“No! The team leader told me!”
*Oh no… that was a secret.*
Jeong-o immediately grimaced and hung her head low. Her excitement at his prodding had caused her to say something she shouldn’t have. She clasped her hands together and pleaded in a pitiful voice, still unable to look up.
“……Please, just pretend you didn’t hear that about the team leader…….”
Ji-Heon found everything about her amusing. The car accident was his own business, yet he found it curious that she took such a deep, sincere interest in it. Furthermore, it was funny to see how someone so innocent could become so flustered the moment he pushed back.
*If I’m not careful, I might touch a nerve again.*
He felt that if he didn’t compose himself, he might make the same mistake twice. Clenching his fist under the table, he gave her the answer she was curious about.
“I lost some memories, and they say my personality changed a bit.”
“……How much of your memory is gone?”
“Memories from twenty-four to twenty-six, so about three years, it seems.”
“…….”
“There’s no need to look at me like that. They must have been useless memories anyway.”
He turned his head slightly, feeling burdened by her gaze. While he welcomed her interest, he didn’t want to see pity on her face. He didn’t want to be pitied by her.
“The memories were probably mostly about the army, and even if not, my life was boring beyond what you could imagine, Jeong-o Lee. They were likely memories that didn’t need to be kept.”
“You don’t know that.”
He had tried to brush it off lightly to erase her pity, but she retorted instantly. Her expression was so stern and sincere that Ji-Heon kept his lips pressed shut.
“You don’t even know what you’ve forgotten, so how can you know if those memories were necessary or not?”
It sounded almost like she was arguing with him. Her logic was plausible enough that Ji-Heon became lost in thought. After a long silence, she asked another question.
“Have you tried to remember? You might even have money owed to you by someone.”
“If there was money to collect, they would have come looking for me.”
“You might be the one who lent money to someone, Director.”
“Then that’s just my bad luck. I can’t really insist on it now.”
Whether he had borrowed money or lent it, it was his own affair; yet Ji-Heon couldn’t fathom why she looked as if she were the one who hadn’t been paid back.
Before they knew it, time had slipped by, and it was well past seven o’clock.
“Let’s get going. If we leave now, we should make it just in time.”
Ji-Heon stood up first. As his back retreated, Jeong-o clutched her chest.
*That man has no will to regain his memories!*
At the very least, she had gained some information. He had calmly accepted his memory loss and firmly believed there was nothing significant to find. She could also infer that there was likely no one around him helping him—or perhaps, they were even actively preventing him from remembering.
Jeong-o recalled the day she met his mother. It had been a short meeting, but she had clearly felt that the woman loathed her.
*Does she think I’m the cause of that accident? Is that why she intentionally tried to erase his memory? To keep him from meeting me again?*
Her mind was in turmoil, but today’s conversation had given her momentum. She had to find out about his mother. She would try, one way or another.
Jeong-o fanned the flames of her determination as she stepped out of the building. The season was nearing summer. As the sun set, the hot breeze of the day turned cooler. A rose decorating the building’s exterior couldn’t withstand the wind and dropped its petals at Jeong-o’s feet.
Without thinking, she bent down to pick one up. The vibrant red petal looked just like Yena’s chubby lips. A late autumn day she had spent with the child came to mind.
*Ji-Heon Jeong. That was the day the child learned about the seasons at her preschool.*
“Mommy. This is autumn. Autumn fell down.”
Yena had pointed to the fallen leaves and said autumn had fallen. A single leaf was the season of autumn. She hadn’t been able to share that beautiful moment with him. Once, she had cried while watching flowers bloom, having forgotten the seasons. Back then, they had seemed to drag on forever, but now, a season could flutter away with a single leaf discovered by a child.
Would she be able to tell him all about this someday?
She heard Ji-Heon coming down the stairs. Jeong-o forced a smile.
*Ji-Heon Jeong, you have to remember on your own. I can’t hound you. I mustn’t let you think I’m pestering you. But if you come toward me, I’ll take a step toward you as well. So please, you try, too. Please, don’t give up. Stay strong. Ji-Heon Jeong.*
While Ji-Heon was paying, Jeong-o stood facing the wall. Hearing his footsteps, she turned. She had been expressionless, but as she faced him, she offered a gentle smile. Ji-Heon knew well that it was a composed smile, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful.
“Director, thank you for the meal.”
“Yes. Same here.”
Ji-Heon gave a curt nod. It had been a satisfying meal. He had thought she would be hurt by yesterday’s events, so he was relieved to see she was unexpectedly resilient; he didn’t mind that she had shown interest in his affairs.
Jeong-o took out her phone and said, “I’ll look up the directions to the tasting venue.” Then, she added one last thought. “And, Director, I hope you find your memories.”
“…….”
“I don’t think they were useless memories. I believe they weren’t.”
Ji-Heon’s eyes widened. Comfort and support had arrived in a form he hadn’t expected.
“They might be your most precious and fond memories, tucked away in the deepest part of your heart where no one can find them. Like a time capsule.”
“…….”
“Because they were too precious. So that they wouldn’t get hurt.”
Her voice drifted on the night breeze and stroked his mind. He felt a sting in his eyes. He had occasionally wondered—even though he felt he couldn’t possibly have such things, being treated as a cold-blooded person by everyone—if perhaps he had at least one precious thing.
His mother had told him those memories weren’t important and he shouldn’t be tied to the past. But still, maybe. At least one. It was a story he had only imagined and never told anyone. He never expected to hear that secret-like thought through someone else’s lips. And from Jeong-o Lee, of all people.
His feet moved forward. Just as she was staring at her phone, nearly burying her nose in it to gauge the direction:
“Director, this way….”
*Thump.*
The spot where she landed after taking a step was right in his arms. He caught her as she bumped against his chest with a thud.
His hand moved of its own accord, cupping her face. Even though he was the one holding her, she felt an illusion that she was pulling him toward her. He lowered his head with firm intent.
Perhaps she had known for a long time. That someday, it would end up like this.
***
Jinseo had been so engrossed in finding her way on her phone screen that she had slammed her head into his chest. It was because she had bowed her head, feeling embarrassed after offering him some presumptuous encouragement.
Because he had caught her, her teetering body had stood upright again in an instant, but… he suddenly cupped her face. A fierce resolve could be felt in his hands, which fixed her head in place as if he wanted her to look at him.
*No, no, mister. I didn’t come here to be hugged by you, I was just…*
She realized that something was wrong, yet for some reason, she couldn’t move easily.
*Thump-thump, thump-thump…* Only her heart was doing its job properly.
*This is insane…*
It had been seven years. She was surprised that she still remembered his touch. She was even more surprised that he was stroking her in the exact same way. Her body also remembered that if she twisted away now, he would only get more excited.
*How can this man not have changed at all, not even a little?*
It was just like seven years ago. This unchanging agility. A touch that was softly seductive yet far too firm to push away. Even that habit of tickling her chin with his fingertips.
He was looking at her with that same burning gaze from seven years ago—the one that interpreted every word and action as something suggestive, or rather, the one that seemed to intentionally make every situation erotic just so he could do those kinds of things.
A jolt of electricity ran through her head. As he lowered his head, a dizzying wave of heat rushed over her. In an instant, she shoved her palm forward with all her might.
*Slap!*
Jinseo’s palm landed securely on his face, pushing him away firmly.
*Ji-Heon Jeong, you rascal!*
She came to her senses, and a surge of anger flared up. Jinseo didn’t stop there; she pushed him, already reeling, one more time. He stumbled back, collapsed onto the stairs, and let out a shallow groan, “Ugh.”
Jinseo panted heavily.
“What do you think you’re doing right now!”
Since their lips hadn’t touched, he could simply make excuses. If this were someone experiencing this for the first time, they might think he had just lost his balance while trying to steady her.
*But I know. I know. I know…*
She knew this man’s true nature, his habits, and that agility of his. Jinseo glared at him and demanded,
“Did you do wrong, or did you not?”
Thinking he might not understand her, the tone she used with Yena came out naturally.
“Answer me. Did you do wrong? Or not?”
She had thought he might feign innocence and claim she was accusing an innocent man, but he didn’t. He merely covered his jaw and lips, which she had struck, and said nothing.
“I’m saying this for the sake of your life, Director.”
“…….”
“You shouldn’t act like this with just anyone, anywhere! A man who has someone to marry! Huh? Huh? *Cough!*”
*Cough, hack, hack, wheeze, wheeze.*
As she shouted and pointed a finger at him in her excitement, she swallowed a mouthful of thick, dusty air. The air scraped her throat, preventing Jinseo from arguing further, and she doubled over, coughing.
At the same time, Ji-Heon’s eyebrows arched.
“……Who’s getting married?”