Chapter 21

‘What do you want to be when you grow up, my daughter?’

‘I want to be like Mom!’

‘Really? What kind of person is Mom?’

‘Hmm, someone who smiles brightly like sunlight. Someone who understands my heart, and… she’s pretty!’

‘Wow. Hearing that from you makes me feel like I have the whole world.’

‘Then you’re rich now, Mom. Hehe. But what about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?’

‘Hmm… I guess I’m already grown up, but I still have dreams I want to achieve.’

‘What kind of dreams?’

‘I want to be someone who can read people’s hearts. If someone’s heart is hurting, I want to comfort them. That’s why I study so hard every day.’

‘Wow, that’s amazing. I want to be like you too, Mom.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah!’

‘Then I’ll look forward to it.’

‘Okay!’

* * *

Sunwoo held a freshly brewed cup of coffee and gazed out the window.

From his office, he could see the entire courtyard.

The trees, their leaves beautifully tinged with autumn colors, painted a lovely scene, but his eyes lingered on only one spot.

On one person sitting endlessly on a bench.

She had been there before his lecture began, and even after it ended, she hadn’t moved an inch.

The sky had already grown dim, but Ayeon sat there, lost in thought, unaware of time passing.

That morning, after finishing a meeting, Sunwoo had returned to his office with a cup of coffee.

Through the window, he had seen Ayeon rushing somewhere.

Her face had been so pale it worried him.

Worried enough that he’d set his untouched coffee aside and gone after her.

After a tense drive, he found her at a café.

She met someone there, and when she came out after a long while, her face looked as if she could collapse at any moment.

And then she finally did, collapsing to the ground.

Watching her silently bear that pain had been harder than he expected.

So he didn’t hesitate and reached out his hand to her.

Even as he tried to hide the ache he felt just from seeing her tear-reddened eyes.

But she didn’t take his hand.

That was just like her.

“Ha.”

He sighed quietly and lifted his gaze again toward the courtyard.

The trees around her were swaying restlessly.

As evening deepened, the wind had begun to pick up.

Sunwoo placed the cup back on the windowsill.

Apparently, he wasn’t meant to drink coffee today.

Worried she might catch a cold, he grabbed a jacket and left the office.

A few steps later, he passed by Professor Yoon Sang-gi’s old research lab.

His eyes lingered coldly on the nameplate.

It had been Sunwoo’s suggestion to clear out the office.

He’d argued that Korea University was the only school still keeping a retired honorary professor’s lab.

He had proposed that they keep it one final semester out of respect, then remove it completely without a trace.

Fortunately, the department had accepted the idea, and no one had objected when he suggested that Ayeon help organize it.

If she made up her mind, it would give her the perfect environment to focus on her writing.

If only she decided to do it.

Everything was going according to plan, but still, Sunwoo couldn’t shake the thought.

Had it really been right to encourage her to write that book?

His face grew serious as he quickened his steps.

When he finally reached the courtyard, Ayeon was gone.

He froze, scanning the area frantically.

“Where did she go?”

Feeling hollow, his footsteps carried him out of the Social Sciences building.

* * *

Ayeon had stood up from the courtyard bench after noticing something.

“Western Art Department Student Exhibition”

The poster announced a permanent display of works produced during the first semester, listing the participating students’ names.

One name caught her eye.

“Han Nayul.”

Almost without realizing it, she began walking toward the Fine Arts building, as if pulled by some invisible force.

It was a fair distance from the Social Sciences building, and it took some time to get there.

As she walked, her heart began pounding unpleasantly.

She could always tell what kind of person Jooheon was from his paintings.

His free, untamed soul always shone through them.

She wasn’t certain whether the Han Nayul on that poster was the same woman connected to Jooheon.

Assistant Manager Joo had mentioned the name, but it could have been someone else with the same one.

Even so, she couldn’t suppress her curiosity.

She wanted to see what kind of work this student, Han Nayul, had created.

As the Fine Arts building came into view, Ayeon’s heart began to pound harder.

She took one more step forward and then froze.

Someone was coming out of the building.

The student who had been late to her liberal arts class was Han Nayul.

Ayeon stopped and watched her.

Her brown hair was streaked with highlights, her features sharp and striking, her face exuding a mix of defiance and sophistication. It was unmistakably her.

Under the glow of a streetlight, the Tiffany limited-edition bracelet around her wrist sparkled.

Her face was bright as she ran toward someone.

She was the one running, yet it was Ayeon’s heartbeat that sped up.

Ayeon’s brows knit together as her gaze followed Nayul.

Because of the man standing before her.

Even from a distance, she knew exactly who he was.

The man who had sworn to look only at her for the rest of his life.

The man who now smiled at another woman.

Her husband.

The one person she had believed to be her only ally in the world.

…Yoon Jooheon.

“Ha…”

Her heart stopped for a moment. She staggered, clutching her chest, but couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Jooheon took Nayul’s hand and led her somewhere.

Soon, they got into his car.

Every movement between them was natural.

As if this wasn’t the first time.

Ayeon was stunned.

“No… how could you…”

He had told her he’d be home early today.

And she was the one who had told him she might be late.

Was that why?

Had that given him the freedom to linger?

But still, how could he… here, at Korea University where she worked?

She let out a hollow, bitter laugh, her brows twisting.

When the two finally got into the car, it didn’t move right away.

Ayeon stepped to the side and peered in through the window.

And there it was, what she had imagined so many times, now laid bare before her eyes.

At a moment she never expected.

A strangled sound threatened to escape her lips, and she covered her mouth with both hands, turning away.

She couldn’t bear to look any longer at the sight of their faces so close together.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard the sound of the car driving away.

The noise grated against her ears, and she clamped her hands over them.

How could this be.

How could you do this to me.

What is this…

She had suspected it, she had even been sure of it, but seeing it with her own eyes sent a shock through her body she could never have imagined.

And strangely, she didn’t cry.

Maybe because her emotions had already gone beyond betrayal.

Maybe because the affection she had once felt as his wife had long since cooled.

Her feelings for him had never been passionate love, not really. They were closer to duty, an obligation to a marriage.

And perhaps gratitude, for the man who had once loved her so deeply.

She had believed that was enough to count as love between husband and wife.

But at this moment, as all trust in Jooheon shattered, she finally realized.

Yoon Jooheon, you never truly loved me.

You never cherished me in any way.

After seeing you share warmth with another woman, I can never treat you the same again.

And I don’t need to.

As the sound of the car faded away, she stood there blankly, staring at the Fine Arts building before walking slowly toward it.

When she reached the first floor, she stepped into the exhibition hall.

She looked between the paintings and the names of their artists, until she stopped in front of one.

It was an oil painting of a pine tree standing tall beyond a wooden window frame, with the rising sun glowing behind it.

She had never seen this piece before, but nothing about it felt unfamiliar.

The scenery, the bold brushstrokes.

Everything was just like Jooheon’s paintings.

Staring blankly at it, Ayeon let out a faint, incredulous laugh.

Maybe she had expected to see something like this.

But facing it in reality was more shocking than she imagined.

And the shock didn’t stop there.