1.
As we entered the house, the children hurried to welcome us. When Ms. Kim mentioned that she had already bathed them, Han Na-eun thanked her with a nod. Choi Kang-woo retreated upstairs without a word, and after seeing Ms. Kim out, Han Na-eun went into the bedroom to tuck the children in.
Lately, Minho had made a habit of lying in Han Jiho’s bed to listen to fairytales until he drifted off. Han Na-eun would usually pick him up to move him to his own room, and more often than not, Choi Kang-woo would be there to help. He had always claimed to work late, but these days, he seemed to leave the office on the dot. Sometimes, he even joined them for dinner.
I hadn’t given much thought to why he would share meals that didn’t particularly suit his palate, but today, while sensing the physical shifts in his body during our driving lesson, I wondered if he might actually be interested in me.
“No, that’s not it.”
As my wandering thought slipped out, Han Jiho immediately asked, “Mom. Why did you stop reading?”
“Oh.”
I had lost my timing, distracted in the middle of the story, and the children were clearly waiting for the rest.
“I’ve memorized the whole fairytale. Do you want me to tell you?”
At Han Jiho’s words, Han Na-eun’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I’ll tell you! So, the wolf ate all the people, and his belly got this big.”
Minho chimed in from the side, “And then they cut his belly open to let everyone out and stitched it back up.”
“Goodness.”
Why on earth did they beg me to read to them every night when they already knew the whole story by heart?
Han Jiho smiled and urged her on. “Mom. Read the rest. After they stitched up the belly.”
Han Na-eun read the remainder of the story. She read it once more at their insistence, and before she knew it, the children were fast asleep. Watching them, Han Na-eun muttered, “Do you fall asleep because you already know how it ends? Honestly, I just don’t understand you two.”
As Han Na-eun carried Minho out, Choi Kang-woo was waiting as if he’d expected it and took the boy from her arms.
“He seems to have gained a bit of weight since last week, doesn’t he?”
As soon as he took Minho, Choi Kang-woo weighed him like a dumbbell. He wasn’t a scale, yet, strangely enough, he was right. Minho had gained nearly a kilogram.
“You’re right. Minho has gained some weight.”
After laying Minho in bed and placing his attachment doll beside him, Han Na-eun tucked him in and slipped out. As she headed toward her own room, Choi Kang-woo stopped her.
“Aren’t you going to give me some Honey Burdock Tea?”
“You must be tired. I thought you’d just go to sleep.”
Han Na-eun headed reluctantly to the kitchen to boil water. Choi Kang-woo followed, adding, “I sleep very late. I usually work long hours at the office, and even here, I end up falling asleep at my desk, so I rarely get to bed before one.”
“You leave work early every day. I don’t think I’ve seen you come home late since I moved in.”
“Hm.”
At her words, Choi Kang-woo coughed awkwardly. “Well, I’m just more efficient when I work from home these days. It’s more comfortable in the study.”
“I see. Please wait a moment.”
Han Na-eun returned with two cups of Honey Burdock Tea. Choi Kang-woo played some soft jazz from his phone. Being alone together like this, it felt remarkably like a married couple sharing a quiet moment after the kids were in bed.
Choi Kang-woo broke the silence. “I’m getting used to, and enjoying, having tea with you at night, Han Na-eun.”
Han Na-eun nodded. “Yes. Honey Burdock Tea is the kind of drink you grow accustomed to the more you have it.”
“I’m not talking about the tea, Han Na-eun. I’m talking about having it with you.”
She looked up. Choi Kang-woo stared straight at her. “Would you like to have tea in my room next time?”
“Pardon?”
In his room? What could that imply?
“If we have it in my room, I don’t think we’ll just be drinking tea.”
*Thump, thump, thump, thump!* Han Na-eun’s heart raced uncontrollably.
“Why aren’t you answering? How was it before? When other men asked you to have tea?”
As if I’ve ever dated a man! And such a suggestive comment, too.
“I’d have to see.”
Han Na-eun didn’t dislike him, but the prospect of being alone in his room? Would they kiss? Her face flushed crimson. She feared the color was obvious, but he was not one to pretend he didn’t notice.
“What are you imagining to make your face turn that red? I only asked for tea. Did everything that might happen afterward already take place in your head?”
Taken aback, Han Na-eun reflexively defended herself. “No. I don’t have strange thoughts like that. Kissing? That’s ridiculous.”
“Ah. So you *were* imagining kissing?”
If only she could swallow back the words she had spilled.
“No? I’m not imagining anything like that at all.”
Choi Kang-woo laughed and stood up. “It’s fascinating that that’s the limit of your imagination. You, a mother. Thanks for the tea. So, in any case, we’re having tea in my room next time? That’s all I needed to know.”
With that, he went upstairs. Once he had disappeared, Han Na-eun cupped her burning cheeks. Even without a mirror, she knew she looked ridiculous. She was prone to blushing, and she couldn’t believe how clumsy she had become.
“I’m not usually like this. I can excuse it as being my first time driving, but…”
Still, she had actually managed to drive for an hour. It was a small victory after so long. To cool her face, she stepped out to the front door. The cold, clear night sky of early winter revealed stars usually hidden by the city glow. A thin, white crescent moon hung above. She stared at it, feeling a vivid sense of life—a different kind of happiness than what she felt while raising her children.
“I didn’t know I could feel these emotions too.”
Her friend Hye-seon’s words echoed in her mind: *If you keep living like that, you’ll never even see a man and will just grow old and die alone.*
Choi Kang-woo. He was the man she had become closest to in her life. But was this right? The thoughts made her head ache. Still, the night air cleared her chest.
Choi Kang-woo was watching her from his window, a woman with a small frame but a core of steel. She seemed to live in a different world than he did. Viewed from above, she looked even smaller—yet she wrapped her children in a love far greater than his own. The unspoken gap between them continued to unsettle him.
His physical reaction to her today wasn’t merely coincidence. Han Na-eun was his type. He had never considered it before, but looking at her, he realized it. She was the woman he wanted: someone with delicate, slender joints who possessed an inner strength that flared to life whenever she was with her children.
He knew he would never find another woman who would show him such a side of herself.
At the same time, the image of Choi Kyung-hye’s cold, calculating gaze crossed his mind. Was that why his brother suffered? Choi Kang-woo looked down at Han Na-eun for a long time.
* * *
Every afternoon, Choi Kang-woo headed to the fitness center. He rarely scheduled meetings during that time, preferring to use it to refine himself. Since he had a physique that didn’t gain weight easily, he focused on building lean muscle rather than bulking up, specifically targeting his lower body. Deep, rhythmic breathing was a given. As he started to run lightly on the treadmill, Han Na-eun’s image crept into his mind. Cunningly.