“Two things?”
Choi Kang-woo asked, searching for what Han Na-eun meant. Na-eun smiled and spoke softly.
“Yes. A trusted employee betrayed you, which is a betrayal of the company. That must be upsetting. And I imagine it’s just as draining to demote someone—like discarding a person you’ve been using.”
I don’t know how this woman sees right through my heart like this.
“The company runs on people, doesn’t it? But when work becomes the center, people start feeling like mere parts. Especially when I’m issuing personnel transfers, I sometimes feel that way.”
At Choi Kang-woo’s admission, Na-eun buried her face in his chest.
“I like that you’re aware of such things. Everyone says that business is just business, and profit justifies everything. But the fact that you recognize the human cost makes you a good manager.”
“That is an incredibly comforting thing to hear.”
Choi Kang-woo hugged her with gratitude and affection.
“Get some sleep. I don’t even know what time it is.”
“Can I sleep here?”
“Go upstairs before the kids wake up.”
Choi Kang-woo laughed at her instruction.
“Yes, I understand.”
Both drifted into sleep. They found rest easily, sated by the intense intimacy they had shared only moments before. Even in his slumber, Choi Kang-woo kept a tight grip on Na-eun’s hand.
* * *
The next day, Na-eun woke up before Choi Kang-woo. It was her usual hour. As soon as she stirred, he woke as well.
“It’s time for me to go up, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t this about your usual waking time?”
“It’s about thirty minutes early, but since I usually wake up around now, it’s fine.”
Choi Kang-woo kissed her cheek as she sat up.
“You look even prettier in the morning.”
“No way. My hair is a mess.”
“In my eyes, you’re perfect.”
Choi Kang-woo grinned. The morning was a battlefield from the start. Dressing two kids, feeding them, and getting them to Myeongseong Kindergarten was no easy task, not to mention making it to work on time. By the time Na-eun arrived at the kindergarten, she was completely frazzled.
That was when she noticed an unfamiliar car parked outside. The teachers’ cars were usually few and modest, but this one was a vivid, striking red.
“That’s new. Did a parent arrive this early?”
As Na-eun held Jiho’s hand and headed for the entrance, Han Na-young stepped out of the vehicle. Her appearance, emerging from the sleek, shining car, was as glamorous as if she were stepping onto a set. She smiled at Na-eun and waved.
“Na-eun-ah.”
Na-eun glanced at the car, then back at her sister.
“Sister, did you change your car?”
Han Na-young smiled leisurely and nodded.
“I change them often. Do you think celebrities can drive the same car every day?”
At that moment, Jiho spotted Han Na-young and greeted her politely.
“Hello, Auntie.”
Han Na-young looked at Jiho with a pleased gaze.
“Our Jiho has grown so much. We saw each other last time, didn’t we? At the amusement park.”
Jiho nodded.
“Yes.”
Na-eun looked down at Jiho gently.
“Jiho, go in first. Take off your jacket, hang it up, and play with the blocks.”
Jiho nodded, greeted Han Na-young once more, and disappeared inside. As soon as he was gone, Na-eun turned to her sister with suspicious eyes.
“Did you come to talk about Jiho? What, are you planning to take him and raise him yourself?”
Han Na-young frowned and waved her hands dismissively.
“Didn’t I tell you not to start that? Jiho has been your child since you put him on your family register.”
Na-eun furrowed her brows, her wariness rising. She couldn’t easily lower her guard when Han Na-young’s presence always felt like it had an ulterior motive. Yet, she felt a quiet, secret relief at the confirmation. As the boy grew, she lived in constant fear that Han Na-young would one day claim him as her biological son. Knowing the woman had no such intention was a weight off her shoulders.
“Why are you here? It’s so early.”
Han Na-young sighed and lifted her chin.
“You don’t take my calls. You don’t answer Mom’s, either. I figured you’d be at work, so I came.”
Na-eun crossed her arms and looked away.
“I didn’t answer because we don’t have much to discuss. Even if I ask for money, you never give me any.”
Han Na-young scoffed and reached into her bag, pulling out her wallet.
“I’ll give you some money.”
She opened it, fingers hovering over the cash. Na-eun stared at her, trying to decipher the hidden intent.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re offering money out of the blue. What do you really want to talk about?”
Han Na-young hesitated, then slowly closed her wallet with a faint, tight smile.
“About your CEO.”
Na-eun shook her head, laughing as if the notion were absurd.
“My CEO? My boss is the kindergarten director.”
Han Na-young ignored her, pushing ahead.
“Not that. You know the CEO of our company quite well, don’t you?”
The intent behind her words was no longer hidden. Her gaze sharpened, attempting to pierce right through Na-eun.
Na-eun froze, her heart hammering against her ribs like a bird in a cage. She swallowed hard, the tension in her throat making it difficult to breathe.
“He’s not even a parent of a student I teach. How well could I possibly know an uncle like him?”
She tried to remain calm, but her voice wavered at the end. Han Na-young tilted her head, a leisurely, knowing smile on her lips.
“Is it not ‘close’ if you go to an amusement park together?”
The question was a trap, a test. Na-eun forced a laugh.
“Do you only work with people you’re close to, sister? You work with clients, too. He’s a guardian of a child in my class. There was no one else available that day, so he came along. That’s all.”
Na-eun tried to sound confident, but her breath hitched under Han Na-young’s scrutinizing stare.
“Is that so? To me, it looked like you were quite intimate.”
Na-eun felt exposed, her internal defenses crumbling. She avoided Han Na-young’s eyes, even though she could feel them burning into her. Han Na-young remembered seeing the four of them from afar—they had looked so much like a family that no one would have doubted it for a second.
Na-eun finally turned to look at her, her voice sharp with accusation.
“Did you come all the way here just to verify how close the company CEO and I are?”
Han Na-young laughed, radiating an arrogant ease.
“That’s right. And to ask for a favor.”
Na-eun furrowed her brows.
“A favor? How could I possibly help you? I’m just a poor kindergarten teacher.”
Han Na-young shrugged as if it were nothing.
“I was in a relationship with one of our directors.”
Na-eun’s eyes widened. She pressed her lips shut before asking cautiously, “You say ‘was,’ so you’ve broken up? Was he a man you intended to marry? Did you get hurt?”
Han Na-young shook her head, her face an unreadable mask.
“That man is married. I couldn’t have married him anyway.”
Na-eun was so dumbfounded her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t fathom the casual detachment in her sister’s tone.
“If you’re in a relationship with a married man, you shouldn’t be. Isn’t this a moral issue?”
Han Na-young shrugged, her dismissive expression making it clear she didn’t see the problem. A cold wave of disappointment washed over Na-eun. Then, Han Na-young glared at her, annoyed.
“What era are you living in, with that kind of mindset?”
Na-eun sighed, shaking her head.
“Regardless of the era, you have to respect the promises you make to others. A man with a family should be devoted to them.”
Han Na-young waved her hand and turned away.
“Whatever. Forget it. I didn’t come here to listen to that old-fashioned nonsense.”