A child who looks like me

I don’t know how today passed.

For Jeong-oh, it was a painful day that made her feel sick.

But despite that, the fact that it could end happily was because she had a cozy home and her precious family.

On days she finished early, she would go to Guksun’s restaurant to help with the closing, but today, Guksun had closed the restaurant early herself.

As Jeong-oh entered through the front door, her daughter came running over, as lively as a little puppy.

“Mommy!”

“Yena, my princess!”

My princess who fills the universe with beauty and cuteness!

The energy that had drained from Jeong-oh completely recharged with her daughter. She easily lifted Yena, who had run to her.

“You didn’t work late today?”

Guksun came into the living room, wiping her hands on her pants.

“No. It’s the first day, after all.”

With a kiss on Yena’s cheek, Jeong-oh answered Guksun.

I’m happy like this.

Jiheon, you can’t ruin this.

At one point, her life had been a hell, but now it had become heaven.

When she thought she’d lost love, a greater love had come into her life. The love that her daughter Yena had taught her gave her the strength to keep going.

Because of that, she couldn’t simply hate and resent Jiheon.

All she could hope for was that this heaven wouldn’t be destroyed.

Around 9 p.m., Jeong-oh spread out bedding and lay down next to Yena. It was time for children to visit the land of dreams.

Turning off the light in the room, she offered her arm as a pillow for Yena, but her energetic seven-year-old wasn’t about to fall asleep easily. Yena giggled and teased her repeatedly until, after several warnings, she finally lay still.

Blinking her eyes, Yena softly called out to her mother.

“Mom, I met another seven-year-old at the academy today.”

“You made a friend!”

“Not a friend yet. He doesn’t know anything about Go.”

“You can still be friends even if he doesn’t know Go. You could teach him, and one day he might get as good as you.”

“He cried a lot, saying he didn’t want to learn.”

“Well, maybe one day he’ll like it.”

With a cheerful voice, Jeong-oh felt happy her daughter was meeting friends. But Yena pouted as if she didn’t believe her mother’s words.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Park Dobin.”

“A boy?”

“Yeah.”

Yena’s voice grew slower.

“His mom came today too, and she came yesterday too.”

“…”

“She’ll probably come tomorrow, too.”

Pretending to be sleepy, Yena’s tone revealed her hidden feelings, which Jeong-oh could sense.

“Were you jealous of Dobin?”

“No.”

“…”

“… Just a little.”

Her heart ached when her daughter showed her true feelings.

My princess.

She wanted to do everything for her, to give her everything she could, but there were limits with only one of her.

There were times she thought it would have been nice if Yena had a father.

Unfailingly, that thought led her to Jiheon.

“Doesn’t he know I had Yena? I thought he’d at least ask.”

The moment she thought of Jiheon, a large question mark formed in her mind.

“Does he just firmly believe that I would have given up my child?”

Regardless, even if he were to find out now, if he said nonsense about taking their daughter away, she wouldn’t let it happen.

Thinking of Jiheon, she clenched her fists tightly.

But before long, she released her fist with a sigh.

What a cruel twist of fate this was.

Meeting the father of the child she’d raised in secret at work, and as a far superior boss, no less.

The man she met again after seven years still boasted a handsome face. His expression had grown colder, though.

“Did he have a lot of women?”

Of course, he must have.

He was always a man who loved women.

Before they dated—or even before their first kiss—he’d seemed like a man with no sexual desires, almost ascetic. But once they were alone, he was a different person.

In private, he was obsessive enough that it almost felt like he enjoyed tormenting her.

Whenever they spent a weekend together, he would act as though he wanted her all night long. She’d sometimes have to pretend to sleep when she grew too tired.

Day or night didn’t seem to matter to him.

Someone with such an appetite must have had countless women.

“He must have charmed so many women.”

And he must have erased someone like me in no time.

While his life flowed by smoothly, only she had been left unsettled, which filled her with sorrow.

A season that refused to leave still lingered within her heart.

“Should I quit the job after all?”

She didn’t want to let her emotions show.

But she didn’t want to be in a position of running away, either.

It was a deeply troubling night.

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

The next morning.

Jiheon visited his family’s home.

Actually, he had planned to visit yesterday and spend the night, joining his parents for breakfast, but as he wasn’t feeling well, he only came by in the morning.

But his mood hadn’t improved just because it was morning. Last night, he’d had a strange dream and had been in a daze ever since, like he’d been possessed by a ghost.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

During breakfast, his mother, Jang Yeong-mi, noticed him repeatedly massaging his shoulders and asked.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d fallen off the couch at the age of thirty-three.

“I think I just slept wrong.”

Jiheon gave a vague answer.

“Be mindful of your demeanor in front of the staff. If you appear too uncomfortable, they might misunderstand.”

His father, Jeong Jaekwang, took the opportunity to offer advice.

“Yes.”

Jiheon answered briefly.

Meals with his parents weren’t exactly comfortable. His father was a stern man who only talked about work, and his mother was overly interested in his life. The conversation might even veer toward marriage, which would only make breakfast longer, so Jiheon kept quiet.

“How is the new job? Is it manageable?”

“It’s alright. I’ve just started learning everyone’s names.”

Jiheon’s curt answer to his father’s question prompted Yeong-mi to chime in.

“Honey, it’s only been a week since Jiheon joined the new company. Oh, isn’t Eun-bi also at that company…?”

“Father, where’s my brother?”

Sensing a tedious topic approaching, Jiheon quickly turned to Jaekwang with a question.

“He suddenly had to leave on a business trip.”

“It would have been nice to eat together. I guess he’s busy.”

Yeong-mi looked a bit disappointed, but Jiheon paid it no mind. After dodging the conversation deftly, Jiheon gave Yeong-mi a polite smile when their eyes met.

The meal ended without incident.

Before heading to work, Jiheon went to his room and looked over the books he’d read as a child.

Coming to his parents’ home always left him with a peculiar feeling. His early childhood memories were quite vivid, but the fact that he had no recollection whatsoever of the three years after he turned twenty-six weighed heavily on him here.

What kind of person was I back then? What was I thinking?

Not being able to remember made him cling to it all the more.

Just as he returned a book to its shelf, the door opened, and Yeong-mi entered.

Seeing her son, her face lit up, and she approached him.

“Do you have a bit of time this morning?”

“I should be leaving for work now.”

Yeong-mi, who had been hoping for some quality time with her son, looked disappointed.

Jiheon called out to her.

“Mother.”

“Yes?”

“During those three years when I lost my memory…”

As he began, a shadow crossed Yeong-mi’s eyes.

The three years her son lost his memory — it was a topic she loathed.

“What might have happened?”

“You went to the military… other than that, everything was the same.”

She answered lightly, as if it were nothing, and Jiheon murmured to himself.

“So it was the military?”

Smiling awkwardly, she raised her hand to stroke his hair.

“If you remember nothing at all, maybe it means not to dwell on it.”

“But I feel like something must have happened.”

“…”

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Do you remember this? You used to have a red birthmark here.”

Just as her son had done during breakfast, she also steered the conversation away from a burdensome topic.

For a long time, Jiheon had a salmon-colored birthmark on his forehead shaped like a flame. It’s said that these marks typically disappear before the age of three, but his had lasted much longer, only fading around the time he entered middle school.

“Yes, I remember. I kept my bangs down to cover it.”

Jiheon responded as if it were a trivial memory.

As if lost in nostalgia, Yeong-mi continued, brushing her hand over the spot where the birthmark had been.

“I used to be able to tell what you were feeling just by looking there. That mark showed everything.”

“…”

“It was like that back then.”

For Jiheon, it was an uncomfortable memory. The idea of others seeing through his emotions was unsettling. He disliked that the birthmark would flush red when he was in a bad mood.

Unaware of his inner thoughts, Yeong-mi smiled gently and wrapped up her reminiscing.

“Don’t worry too much about the things that happened seven years ago.”

As if he’d expended all his emotions back then, he felt as though he had nothing left now.

Still, Jiheon lived his life concealing his true feelings.

“Even so, if something difficult comes up, you can talk to me, alright?”

“Yes.”

“Love you, son. You’re everything to me.”

After a loose embrace, Jiheon said goodbye and left his parents’ home.

His gaze lost its warmth as he stepped off the stage of playing the dutiful son.

Jiheon let out a stifled breath and pressed hard on the gas pedal.

Though it was a bright morning, his mind didn’t feel clear. It was like there was an indelible soot clouding it.

Whether it was because he’d dredged up the memories of seven years ago or because of last night’s dream, he couldn’t tell.

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

Meanwhile, in the pantry at Max Planning.

With hollow eyes, Jeong-oh brewed coffee.

She had only managed to fall asleep at dawn, debating whether to stay at her job or quit.

The conclusion she finally reached was to stick it out for now.

For now, she’d work hard. That was the best she could do. With a mother who had sacrificed her life for her, and a daughter who was growing fast, she couldn’t afford to falter.

Since Jiheon was an executive, she wouldn’t encounter him often. If she avoided him well, she might be able to last a few months. In the meantime, she’d prepare to switch jobs again.

Having decided on a course, she felt a bit lighter. Even her steps as she turned back with her coffee felt light.

But that feeling didn’t last long. Jeong-oh suddenly froze in her tracks.

Following Jiheon’s reappearance yesterday, another nemesis had shown up today.

The person looked at her with wide eyes and greeted her.

“Oh my, look who it is! You’re Lee Jeong-oh, right? Do you remember who I am?”

Of course, there was no way she wouldn’t remember.

She simply didn’t want to.

The friend who had caused her the most tears during her school days — why was she here…

“I’m Chae Eun-bi. Don’t you remember?”

“…Oh, yeah. …Eun-bi.”

“It’s really nice to see you, Jeong-oh! How have you been?”

We were never that close. But with Eun-bi speaking so warmly, Jeong-oh felt even more flustered.

“Oh, well, you know, so-so… Are you working at this company?”

“Yeah. I’m a copywriter.”

Eun-bi laughed as she answered Jeong-oh’s rather pointless question.

After all, it had already been ten years since high school, and since they were now meeting as colleagues, it wouldn’t make sense to bring up the past.

Besides, she couldn’t keep dwelling on things from the past, especially things that Eun-bi might have already forgotten.

Maybe I should just try to get along with her casually?

After all, it’s not like I’ll be at this company for long.

With a new resolution in mind, Jeong-oh was about to respond with a friendly tone when Eun-bi spoke up first.

“Now that I think about it, you’re the assistant manager who joined the neighboring team, right? Production Team 2?”

Eun-bi pursed her lips in a round shape, as if genuinely curious about Jeong-oh.

“Yes.”

“How many years have you been an assistant manager?”

“Just one.”

“Just one year? What have you been doing all this time?”

Just as she felt a chill run through her, Eun-bi’s rounded lips stretched into a long, twisted smile. It was an expression like a noblewoman addressing an insignificant subordinate, with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“I’m a manager, you know.”