Recently, Myeongseong Media acquired another cable travel channel. With only the final balance payment remaining, they would begin operating the channel in full starting next month. The documents Choi Kang-woo was currently reviewing contained the staff list for the new channel, including announcers, MCs, and correspondents. As he scanned the names, he spotted a familiar one.
“Right. She was the one in the entertainment industry, wasn’t she?”
Na-eun’s half-sister. Choi Kang-woo lingered on the name ‘Han Na-Young,’ pondering. A half-sister who offered no support to Na-eun. A stepmother who took only Han Na-Young and moved out to secure a better life. Though never spoken aloud, they were clearly the people who had hurt Na-eun and left her feeling neglected.
That dynamic wouldn’t change. People like that rarely did.
But what if they fell into deeper hardship?
Knowing Han Na-Eun’s character, she wouldn’t exactly relish their downfall. It was obvious: if they lived well, they wouldn’t contact each other, but the moment they hit trouble, they were the type to shamelessly reach out to Na-eun for help. It was clear as day.
“So, I suppose giving them a job won’t hurt.”
Choi Kang-woo signed the approval.
* * *
He had intended to discuss this matter regardless. When he went downstairs the next day, Na-eun was preparing vegetables and meals for the children. Even though most ingredients were prepped and sent from the Main Building—and they could have had all the meals delivered—Na-eun insisted on cooking herself, filling the space with a savory aroma. As Choi Kang-woo passed by the foyer, Na-eun called out to him.
“CEO, please take this.”
“What is this?”
“It’s the cookies you said were delicious yesterday. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine, but don’t eat them all at once. This is about one serving for today; if there’s any left, please share them with someone else.”
Choi Kang-woo accepted the cookies, feigning reluctance.
“You have a sister, don’t you?”
At the mention of her sister, Na-eun’s shoulders stiffened. She suppressed her discomfort and nodded.
“Yes. A half-sister. Though I’m sure you already know.”
There was a bitter undertone to her voice—a smile meant to feign composure, maintaining a shred of decency toward her family despite the unpleasantness.
Choi Kang-woo watched her and nodded quietly.
“Yes. I know. Your half-sister is a celebrity.”
His voice was low and measured, careful not to push into territory that might discomfort her.
“We’re acquiring a cable channel, and it looks like she’s taken an MC spot there. Would you like me to stop her from working there?”
The unexpected question hung in the air. Na-eun looked taken aback.
“Why?”
Choi Kang-woo replied with a stoic face.
“Well, if you feel she’s hateful or you’d rather she not live well, just say so. Family is always the one that causes the most heartache, after all.”
Na-eun shook her head in surprise.
“You would accept such personal solicitation?”
Given Choi Kang-woo’s nature, he didn’t seem like the type. The fact that he was asking made her uneasy, as if he were testing her. Choi Kang-woo nodded at her unspoken question.
“That’s right. I would never decide on a personnel matter based on personal favors. Normally, that is. But for you, Han Na-Eun, I’ll make an exception.”
His intent was inscrutable. His gaze, accompanied by the subtle curve of his lips, was sincere. Perhaps that was why.
Na-eun’s heart began to race. She asked, breathless.
“Why?”
Choi Kang-woo watched her for a moment, then shrugged as if it were trivial.
“Just because. It’s my will.”
He smiled at her. Na-eun steeled herself and slowly shook her head.
“Just… let her work.”
She lowered her eyes, lost in thought. Regardless of their history, Han Na-Young was Han Jiho’s biological mother. Even if she was hateful, deep down, Na-eun didn’t wish for her to suffer.
Na-eun always thought this way: Jiho might look for his mother later, and it would only be a burden on him if his birth mother were in dire straits. She harbored plenty of resentment, but she believed that for this current life to be maintained, Han Na-Young needed at least a stable existence.
“Understood.”
After Choi Kang-woo left for work, Na-eun’s routine began—waking the children, getting them ready, and feeding them breakfast. Finding such warmth in the middle of a winter where the sunlight poured in deep—it was an indescribable happiness.
* * *
Upon arriving at work, Choi Kang-woo took the cookie jar out of his bag and placed it on his desk. As he began his morning routine, Dowan arrived.
“Here are the documents for approval today.”
Dowan, having set the documents down, suddenly sniffed the air.
“What is that smell? It smells good. CEO, did you buy cookies somewhere?”
Choi Kang-woo tried to casually move the jar, but Dowan immediately placed a hand on it.
“Senior. You’re not the type to be stingy with food, are you?”
“What?”
Dowan always called him ‘CEO,’ but whenever he was desperate, he insisted on ‘Senior.’ It seemed he had lost all reason to the aroma of these cookies.
“What are you talking about?”
“These are cookies, right? The smell is incredible. It’s exactly the kind of scent I love. Almond cookies.”
“Do you have the nose of a dog?”
“Yes. I may not be much else, but I have a dog’s nose. I came to work on an empty stomach; if you don’t give me these cookies, I’m not going to work.”
“Are you insane? You’re staking your career on a cookie?”
“Yes. Surely you won’t fire me over one? Give me some.”
Choi Kang-woo pressed his hand firmly on the jar, meeting Dowan with a gaze that allowed no compromise.
“These are mine.”
He tapped the jar with his finger, creating an iron wall between Dowan and his prize.
Dowan smiled, annoying and accustomed to this, and reached out.
“Come on, just one.”
Dowan tried to push his fingers aside, eventually prying Choi Kang-woo’s hand away to flip the lid.
Saying, “Just one,” Dowan picked up a cookie without hesitation. Choi Kang-woo watched him with a sour expression.
Dowan, having braved the cold winter wind to reach the office, took a bite and chewed with a satisfied look.
“Where did you buy this?”
Dowan couldn’t stop admiring the flavor.
“This would be perfect for a sugar crash. It’s perfect with coffee. Where is it from?”
Choi Kang-woo clutched the jar tightly and shook his head.
“I don’t know. I’m not telling you. The cookies here are only for me.”
He pulled the jar to his chest as if guarding a treasure. Dowan laughed, finding it ridiculous, and glanced at him.
“How can you be like that? It’s delicious, share some.”
Choi Kang-woo closed the lid tightly.
“No. Absolutely not.”
His tone was definitive; the cookies were now Choi Kang-woo’s private reserve.
“Please sign this.”
“Fine.”
While Choi Kang-woo was signing, Dowan quickly snatched the jar and took one more cookie.
“It’s not like it’s from some Michelin-starred bakery. So stingy.”
With that, he sauntered out. As soon as Dowan left, Choi Kang-woo hurriedly checked the remaining contents. He wore an expression of deep regret as he looked at the singular cookie left. He looked at it as if it were a rare artifact, closed the lid tightly, and tucked it into his drawer.
“I was saving that to eat later.”
* * *
Choi Kyung-Hye, buried deep in her armchair, listened to the report from Ms. Lee, Minho’s nanny. Narrowing her eyes as she heard about Minho’s recent progress, she finally offered a faint smile.
“So, you’re saying Minho has improved a lot?”
Relief replaced the worry in her voice.
Ms. Lee nodded.
“Yes. Now, he even greets me with a ‘Hello’.”
Pride was written on her face.
Choi Kyung-Hye nodded contentedly.
“Teacher Han really has a gift.”
Ms. Lee smiled warmly, clasping her hands.
“Yes, she is a truly talented teacher. She even baked cookies and made pumpkin bread for the children using ingredients brought from here. You have no idea how well they eat them.”
Choi Kyung-Hye nodded with a calm smile.
“And how is Choi Kang-Woo doing?”
Her voice sounded indifferent, but a hint of maternal concern was buried beneath.
Ms. Lee smiled slightly.
“He seems the same, but his leaving time seems to have gotten a little earlier.”
Choi Kyung-Hye raised her eyebrows with interest.
“Is that so?”
Ms. Lee nodded.
“He even eats the cookies when the children are having them.”
At the mention of Choi Kang-Woo eating cookies, Choi Kyung-Hye let out a scoff, as if the notion were absurd.
“Choi Kang-Woo is eating cookies?”