I was on the verge of sleep when my phone vibrated. It was Hye-seon, my best friend. Surprised by the late hour, I answered instantly.
“Yeah, Hye-seon? What’s up? It’s so late.”
I murmured into the receiver, burying myself deeper into the covers. My eyelids felt heavy, pulling me into the hazy space between wakefulness and sleep.
Hye-seon’s voice crackled through the line, vibrating with excitement.
—What do you mean, “late”? We don’t have that! I got a job.
My eyes snapped wide open.
“Really? Congratulations! That’s amazing!”
Overcome with joy, I sat up, brushing my messy hair out of my face. My drowsiness vanished; just the lilt in her voice made my heart feel light.
—It’s a major corporation, too.
Hye-seon sounded positively smug. My eyes widened in admiration.
“Wow, that’s huge. So, when does orientation start?”
My voice was thick with genuine pride for her.
—They said next week.
Feeling her electricity, a smile spread across my own face.
“Congratulations. You’ve worked so hard for this.”
I leaned back, recalling her long, grueling months of searching. I knew better than anyone the sacrifices she had made to land a position like this.
Hye-seon let out a light, nasal laugh.
—I know, right? Goodness, can you believe how hard it is just to get through the door? Who would’ve thought I’d get in after failing the first round?
I laughed, nodding.
“Still, that’s massive. It’s Myeongseong Media, after all.”
It was a relief to see her efforts finally bear fruit.
—Yeah. In the tech field, they have the best benefits.
She radiated pride. I echoed the sentiment, acknowledging the prestige.
“It’s no small feat to get into Myeongseong Media for computer graphics.”
The sincerity in my voice seemed to touch her. She laughed softly.
—Thanks for acknowledging that, friend.
“Hye-seon, you really earned this.”
—Yeah. From now on, you’ll only walk on paths lined with flowers, too.
I smiled at her words.
—Oh, and did you know? They say the CEO of Myeongseong Media is even more handsome than a celebrity. You have to see him. Look him up—if you search for the CEO of Myeongseong Media, he pops right up.
She sounded utterly smitten. I sighed, a wave of fatigue washing over me again.
“Forget it. I’m exhausted.”
—Really? Oh, wait.
Hye-seon abruptly shifted gears, her tone turning conspiratorial.
—Also, do you want to go on a blind date this weekend?
I let out a bewildered laugh.
“Hye-seon.”
—Yes, that’s me.
She retorted playfully.
—Don’t say my name like that. I told you. There are no men, no life at all on the path you’re walking. Do you want to spend your whole existence just working like this?
I went silent for a moment before answering calmly.
“It’s okay. I only need Han Jiho.”
Hye-seon’s voice sharpened with suspicion.
—Honestly, what is the deal with Han Jiho? Whose kid is he? I still can’t believe he’s yours. It’s been five years, but we were inseparable—does it make sense for you to disappear for a month or two and then suddenly claim you had a baby? Am I supposed to buy that?
My chest tightened, and I hesitated. Her persistent doubt made my heart heavy, a cocktail of guilt over the deception and the crushing weight of keeping the secret. Trying to mask my inner turmoil, I forced a calm tone.
“I didn’t show much, so you just didn’t notice.”
Hye-seon scoffed, clearly unconvinced.
—Give me a break. Even if you didn’t show much, how could a pregnant belly be flat against your spine?
I let out a deep sigh, covering my face with my hands. The truth sat like lead in my mouth. After a long pause, I replied, my voice steady but firm.
“Stop it. Please, just believe me. Do you really have to dig until you find the truth?”
Hye-seon sighed over the line, her voice dropping.
—I’m your friend.
I bit my lip, at a loss.
“So, just believe me. Stop looking.”
A brief silence followed, and she spoke as if to draw a line under the conversation. I gripped the phone, struggling to shed the guilt and sadness rising in my chest, but the weight of her questions lingered.
Then, her voice returned, more subdued.
—Fine. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just… it’s unbelievable. Okay. Let’s just say you’re a single mom. I don’t care about that anyway, so just try the blind date. I told them about Han Jiho, too.
“No.”
—Why?
“I just want to sleep. And Hye-seon, congratulations again. You’re treating me.”
—Don’t worry. I’ll treat you to two meals. Finally, no more unemployment! Sigh. Okay. Get some rest.
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
Once I wake up, the cycle begins again. Perhaps because I had just turned down a date, my mind wandered—imagining what it might be like to be with someone. I closed my eyes and recalled the man who had left such a jagged impression: Choi Kang-woo, Minho’s uncle.
* * *
This morning, Han Jiho was stubborn about his clothes.
“Mom. It’s hot.”
“No, it’s not. It rained yesterday, so it’s chilly today.”
After coaxing him into an extra layer, we arrived at the kindergarten early. Looking out at the yard, still soaked from the night’s rain, I felt the sharp bite of the season. The sky had cleared, but a cold, lingering dampness seeped into the building. When I opened the door, a rush of cold air followed us inside.
I rubbed my hands together to warm them. Once the children arrived, the room needed to be toasty; I couldn’t have their delicate hands freezing. I turned on the heater, watered the window plants, and tidied up. In the corner, Han Jiho hung up his jacket and pulled out a book, settling into his routine with a maturity that always made me proud.
I moved to the windows, wiping away the condensation. I wanted to keep the cold out, but the air felt stagnant, so I cracked them open again to ventilate.
“Mom, it’s cold.”
“You said you were hot a minute ago.”
“Close the window.”
“Okay.”
As I latched the window, the children began to arrive. I walked toward the entrance to greet them, but a man heading toward the door seemed to dwarf everything in the room. It was him—Minho’s uncle.
His shoulders were broad, his frame so tall he looked like a giant among the toddlers. Under a long, charcoal-black coat, Choi Kang-woo looked like a statue. His expression was a blank, icy mask, his dark brows framing eyes that were deep but impossible to read. His features were so sharp they felt etched into his face.
The morning light changed his aura, making him seem slightly less formidable than yesterday, yet he still carried a silence that made him difficult to approach.
He gave a slight nod and set Minho down.
“Minho’s uncle, you’ve come again. Hello, Minho.”
He replied with a faint, polite smile.
“Yes. I’ll be the one coming for the next two days.”
“I see. Will you be picking him up, too?”
“No. Someone else is coming today. If you give me your number, I will send you a photo of her.”
“Oh, I see. I assume the usual person couldn’t make it?”
“Yes. She is ill.”
I couldn’t just hand a child over to a stranger, so I needed the verification. He held out his phone. It was the first time I had ever given my number to a man. Though he wasn’t technically a primary guardian, I felt a sudden, sharp self-consciousness as I took his phone with trembling fingers.
The handset was a high-end model, sleek and dark. It suited him perfectly. I typed in my number, and when the call screen flashed, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“And your name is…?”
“Yes. It’s Han Na-eun.”