Back then, what once felt merely polite and consistently kind now came off a little aggressive and cynical.
There was also a sense of indifference, as if it wouldn’t matter whether she went back or not.
“Let’s set the time from Friday night to Sunday. You can return on Monday, Miss Seo. The location will be my house.”
“On the weekend…?”
“Do you have someone you’re seeing? If so, you’d better end it.”
Seo Jeong-won hesitated with the pen in hand.
She glanced up at Kwon Tae-hee’s face as if gauging his mood, and his hunched shoulders trembled slightly.
She didn’t have any experience in that area, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to disclose such things.
While she was debating, a low voice rang out.
“You should pay extra attention to the parts in bold.”
Jeong-won’s eyes dropped.
It wasn’t hard to find the section she was referring to:
“In the event of breach of contract, Seo Jeong-won forfeits all rights to Seo Gyu-won.”
Could things get worse than they are now?
Jeong-won desperately wanted to escape the worsening situation she faced daily.
At the very least, this couldn’t be the worst option.
Even though she knew there was no better alternative, Jeong-won hesitated just before signing.
“If you’re hesitating, it means you’re making the wrong choice. Why not run away before signing?”
At his smiling suggestion, Jeong-won opened his mouth.
“On weekends… I’m busy at the greenhouse.”
“That’s a problem. It’s hard for me to make time on weekdays.”
At the cold remark, Jeong-won bit his lip and placed his hand over the documents.
His hand holding the pen trembled violently.
Why is she so scared and hesitant?
The contract would be nullified if nothing manifests within a year anyway.
“What if I manifest but… can’t get pregnant?”
“Then maybe you’re not the best choice for me.”
Ah.
The moment she heard that, Jeong-won instinctively understood.
He already had someone else who could replace him.
And yet, she couldn’t acknowledge it.
She was afraid that saying something might irritate him and make him change his mind.
“The caregiver for my brother… Actually, there isn’t one.”
Scribble, scribble—Jeong-won wrote his name neatly on each sheet, murmuring like a confession.
Kwon Tae-hee, resting his chin on the sofa armrest as he observed him, curved his lips into a silent smile.
“I’ll send a caregiver right away.”
“Thank you. And one more thing…”
“Go ahead.”
“Would it be alright if I asked one thing?”
“If my brother wakes up, could you keep all of this a secret? I’d like it if you told him I was just waiting for him this whole time, like always.”
At his plea for something with no chance of happening, Kwon Tae-hee nodded.
It wasn’t a difficult thing to promise.
Jeong-won handed over the signed documents.
He put them in an envelope without checking.
“I’ll have it notarized. We’ll meet again once it’s legally binding. Just in case you change your mind.”
“Then… I’ll be going now.”
“And what will you do today?”
“Ah… it’s late today, so probably nothing. But early tomorrow morning, I’m going to work a potato harvest.”
Kwon Tae-hee frowned.
He could barely understand buying potatoes, let alone harvesting them.
He didn’t have a reason to stop him, but he didn’t like it.
“There aren’t many young people doing it these days, so they pay well. It starts early and ends early… and I can take home the smaller leftover ones…”
The more she explained, the more pitiful she felt.
But he seemed curious, so she kept going.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Stay home. Don’t go out.”
“Why… why not?”
“Do you have any other plans lined up?”
Holding his temples, Kwon Tae-hee asked.
His mood seemed off, so Jeong-won hesitated to answer.
The day after tomorrow, she was scheduled to pick wild raspberries—a task done by hand, which paid quite well.
“If you tell me why…”
“Because your body belongs to me now.”
“Ah.”
“I need to manage it—so it suits my standards.”
Jeong-won nodded in understanding.
He didn’t want him doing manual labor.
Getting injured would be troublesome.
“Then… is it okay if I still go to the greenhouse?”
“Don’t you use your body there too?”
“Not really. I just water the plants, do some cleaning, repotting… things like that.”
“Sounds good. From now on, just tend to the greenhouse.”
With a snap of his fingers, Kwon Tae-hee continued:
“From now on, I must know everything related to you. You understand that hiding anything or taking on secret jobs is unacceptable, right?”
Since she had considered doing just that, Jeong-won quickly nodded.
Tae-hee stood first, saying she could leave now.
He said he was busy.
“If you need anything, just buy it. Use it comfortably.”
He pulled out his wallet from his inner jacket pocket and handed over a black card and a wad of cash—mixing checks and ₩50,000 bills.
As if asking why she wasn’t taking it, he moved his hand toward him again.
But Jeong-won shook his head.
“I’m really okay. Honestly.”
“You didn’t read the contract carefully.”
“What?”
“You can’t refuse anything I give you. No matter what it is.”
With that, his hand, which had awkwardly pulled away, reached out again.
His voice thanking him was weak and small.
Kwon Tae-hee looked at his pitiful figure—like a puppy caught in the rain—for a moment longer before standing up.
“I’ll prepare a car. Take it home.”
“That’s something I can’t refuse either, right?”
“Why? Do you want to refuse?”
“I just… don’t know where to draw the line—what I can and can’t accept.”
His quiet, gloomy voice scattered into the air.
Tae-hee pulled a mint candy from a small glass jar on the desk and popped it into his mouth.
“Shall we kiss now?”
His eyes, opened wide in surprise, trembled helplessly.
It was hard to tell whether the words were genuine or just meant to tease him.
His unchanging expression made it seem sincere, but she didn’t have the courage to go along with it.
More than anything, even though she had made this decision for his brother, it felt like she was betraying him.
Even though she knew the relationship between the two men was already over.
His hands, holding the money and card he had given him, trembled slightly.
Despite their soft brown color, his eyes were cold.
Standing there, unable to do anything, Seo Jeong-won’s face turned pale—beyond pale, nearly blue.
“Seo Jeong-won.”
At the single call of his name, she hesitated for a moment, then set what she was holding down on the table and stood up.
But she couldn’t take a step and instead whimpered.
“Can’t do it?”
“This is what’s written in our contract. Whatever I ask you to do, Seo Jeong-won, you have to follow through.”
His beautiful face turned cold in an instant.
He gave the order in a low voice.
“If you understand, come here.”
Leaning against the desk, Kwon Tae-hee looked directly into his trembling eyes and nodded.
Seo Jeong-won began to take small steps forward.
Finally, when she reached him, she reached out with shaking hands and grabbed the hem of his jacket.
“Raise your head.”
Along with the low voice, a scent of mint wafted over him. Inhaling the sweet and cool scent, Seo Jeong-won cautiously met his gaze.
The face she had trouble looking at was now right in front of him.
Kwon Tae-hee slowly tilted his head.
His chapped lips, rough despite their soft color, met his—softer than velvet.
He licked the cracked skin, pushing gently between his lips with his tongue, moistening them as it brushed against his front teeth.
With a wet, ticklish sound, Kwon Tae-hee’s lips pulled away.
“I’ll ask you again—still finding this difficult? Do you still think there’s anything you can refuse, Jeong-won?”
At his quiet question, Seo Jeong-won shook his head.
No, it’s not hard. I don’t think there’s anything I can refuse.
His response, finally showing understanding, made Kwon Tae-hee smile in satisfaction.
“You’ll be at the greenhouse.”
“…And at the hospital with my brother…”
Seo Jeong-won muttered as if in a daze. Kwon Tae-hee stared at him wordlessly.
Maybe she’s a slow learner.
“I’ll… be at the greenhouse.”
“Good.”
Kwon Tae-hee placed another short kiss on Seo Jeong-won’s lips, now giving the correct answer.
He pulled him into an embrace, still trembling.
Stroking his thin back slowly, he asked how she felt.
“Are you upset?”
Seo Jeong-won shook his head in response to his gentle question.
She wasn’t upset, but the guilt of having to do more intimate things with his brother’s ex-fiancé weighed heavily on him.
She pulled away from his embrace, unable to raise his head, his eyes fixed on the pin holding his tie.
A large hand gently rubbed his cheek.
His palm was still soft—like a delicate leaf.
“You cry a lot, don’t you, Jeong-won?”
Seo Jeong-won hadn’t even realized she was crying.
She didn’t respond, only quietly blinked his eyes.
This time, Kwon Tae-hee’s hand brushed his tear-stained cheek.
“I think I might start to like this—comforting the crying Seo Jeong-won.”