Na-Eun shook her head and offered a bitter smile.
“You’ve broken up properly, then. What’s the problem?”
Na-Young smiled, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “That’s exactly why I need a new man.”
Na-Eun clasped her hands, feigning absurdity. “Am I your personal dating agency? Why are you showing up at my workplace at this hour to talk about this?”
Ignoring the jab, Na-Young flicked her fingers with an air of entitlement. “Just set up a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?” Na-Eun’s irritation began to simmer.
Na-Young leaned in, whispering, “The child you’re teaching. You can at least call his guardian when you’re with him, right? Let me sit in. Just for a quick introduction.”
Na-Eun shook her head firmly. “Unni, you already greeted him. Remember the amusement park? Besides, the representative already knows who you are.”
Na-Young pouted. “Then give me his contact information.”
Na-Eun clicked her tongue, turning away. “Why on earth would I give you his number? I don’t even have it, for heaven’s sake. What, do you want me to give you his mother’s number instead?”
Na-Young’s face contorted as if she’d been struck. “Are you insane? You want me to call and say, ‘I’m planning to seduce your son’?”
Na-Eun sighed, exhausted. “Right. So, I’m going inside. Don’t clutter my morning with this nonsense.”
Na-Young crossed her arms, clearly offended. “Honestly, you have no heart.”
Na-Eun didn’t even flinch. “I don’t care what happens to you. And you don’t care what happens to me and Han Jiho, do you?”
Na-Young blinked, momentarily flustered. “What?”
Na-Eun’s voice was calm, though laced with a deep, cynical disappointment. “Have you ever even checked on me? You didn’t come over once when I told you I was moving.”
Na-Young opened her mouth to protest, but Na-Eun cut her off. “It just means you aren’t interested.”
Unable to find a retort, Na-Young clamped her mouth shut. She shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “Fine. Why would an aunt be expected to care that much about her niece, anyway?”
Na-Eun nodded, accepting the cold reality. “You’re right. That’s why I don’t expect anything.”
Na-Young glared, but Na-Eun remained icy. “So, no matter how desperate you are for a man, have some dignity. You want me to tell the guardian of a child I teach, ‘How about you date my sister?’”
Na-Eun gestured toward Na-Young’s car with a dismissive wave. “Go back. With your looks and that bright red sports car, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else. Suit yourself.”
Na-Young opened her mouth to retort, but seeing the steel in Na-Eun’s gaze, she swallowed her words and turned away, sulking.
As Na-Eun walked inside, her fingertips trembled. The thought of bringing this up to Choi Kang-Woo was mortifying—it was something she could never bear to say. *Honestly,* she muttered to herself, *she’s my sister, but her standards are as persistent as her ego.*
Then, she caught her own reflection in the glass. If she thought Choi Kang-Woo was out of Na-Young’s league, what did that make her? She was just a kindergarten teacher, a Live-in Tutor, a woman with a child to look after. Did she even have the right to look at someone like him?
Na-Eun shook her head, forcing the thought away. “I don’t want anything. I’m not pursuing him with an agenda.”
But then, what was this? Was she simply indulging in the fantasy of their dynamic? She reflected on their relationship. It felt like a countdown—like she was supposed to be preparing for an exit, ensuring they parted ways before she grew too attached, before she was hurt beyond repair.
* * *
When Choi Kang-Woo’s phone rang, he paused his work to check the screen. It was his mother, Choi Kyung-Hye. He picked up slowly, his voice dropping into a professional register.
“Yes. What is it?”
Choi Kyung-Hye responded with a sigh of dissatisfaction. “Honestly, must there always be a ‘reason’ whenever I call my son? Isn’t it normal for a mother to call just because? Every time I ring, all you ask is what is wrong.”
Choi Kang-Woo chuckled, looking out at the city skyline. Despite the familiar nagging, his tone remained level. “I’m not busy right now. I can talk. Tell me.”
Choi Kyung-Hye settled into a corner of her gallery, the silent, curated art surrounding her. “Come to the Main Building for dinner tonight. Your brother is stopping by.”
Choi Kang-Woo leaned forward, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Hyung is coming to the house?”
A brief silence hung in the air before Choi Kyung-Hye replied, her voice heavy with implication. “You don’t look too surprised. So, you already knew.”
Choi Kang-Woo prepared his answer carefully. “He’s in Korea for business, so naturally, I met with him.”
His hand, which had been resting on a stack of documents, stilled. He waited for his mother’s reaction.
“How could you?” Choi Kyung-Hye sounded as if she were burning with frustration. “You knew he was in Seoul, yet you didn’t tell me a word.”
Choi Kang-Woo sighed, his voice as objective as if he were discussing a corporate merger. “That’s Hyung’s decision to make, not mine. If he hasn’t come home yet, there must be a reason. It’s a relief he’s coming at all.”
His mother fell silent, then pivoted to her next point. “So, let’s have a meal together. Minho and everyone else, too.”
“Understood.”
Choi Kyung-Hye hesitated, then carefully brought up the next topic. “Dear, by the way… that teacher, Han Na-Eun…”
At the sound of her name, Choi Kang-Woo’s heart gave a sudden, sharp thump. His fingers tightened around the phone. It was almost laughable how the mere mention of her name could steady his pulse.
Curious, yet desperate to mask his true feelings, he asked calmly, “What about Han Na-Eun?”
“Should we have her join us for dinner? I thought if she were there, perhaps Minho would be more inclined to speak. It’s been a while since he’s seen his father, after all.”
“Wouldn’t that be a difficult environment for her? Mother and Father will be there, and it’s the first time she’d be meeting Hyung. I think it would be better for her to greet them separately after the meal.”
Choi Kyung-Hye considered this for a moment. “Is that right? I suppose so. Minho won’t refuse to speak just because his father is there, will he?”
“No.”
Choi Kang-Woo had no intention of throwing Na-Eun into an uncomfortable den of family politics. He wanted to protect her peace, however he could.
* * *
That evening. Minho and Han Jiho, who usually ate early, received word that they should skip their usual meal. Minho was to dine at the Main Building. Na-Eun felt a pang of worry—the boy would be famished by the time the adults finally finished their own dinner.
“The child must be hungry. Minho, you have to go to the Main Building to eat with your grandparents today. So, shall we have a little snack for now?”
Minho’s face fell. He looked up at Na-Eun, his lower lip trembling. His gaze darted away, his expression turning melancholic. He gripped the hem of her skirt and refused to let go.
“What about Teacher?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, eyes shining with the threat of tears.
Na-Eun felt her heart ache, but she forced a bright smile, desperate to soothe his anxiety. “Teacher will be right here with Han Jiho, waiting for you, Minho.”
Minho bowed his head, his hand still anchored to her clothes. Na-Eun stroked his hair, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful.
“Can’t I go with you?”
To his whispered plea, Na-Eun replied with gentle resolve, “We’ve been together all day, and it’s not far at all. Go say hello to your grandmother and have a good meal, Minho.”
Seeing that he was still uneasy, she flashed him her widest, most reassuring smile. “In return, I’ll have that strawberry cream cake you love so much waiting right here for you.”