11.1

“Huh? What thought?”

She had babbled so much that it was hard to figure out what point he was asking about.

“Do you think I’ll do well?”

“Ah, that. You, you’re capable, aren’t you?”

Chaeyoon had an expression that seemed to ask why he was even questioning the obvious.

“Of course. I know I am capable, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”

Seonho chuckled.

“What are you saying? As if I’ve never acknowledged you before. I’ve always acknowledged your abilities. It’s just your temper I didn’t like.”

“But after sleeping with me a few times, you’re willing to tolerate my temper now, right?”

“Here we go again.”

Seonho, who didn’t look the part, often made suggestive jokes.

Chaeyoon rolled her eyes, and Seonho laughed merrily. His laughter no longer felt unfamiliar but had become comfortably familiar. In fact, it was so pleasant to hear that she found herself wanting to hear more of it.

“When are you going to New York?”

“No, I’m going to London. Early January.”

“I thought you said you were going to New York and then London, so I guess your schedule has changed.”

“Not yet.”

“What are you doing before you go?”

“Nothing special. I’ll spend time with my parents, maybe visit Joo-eun’s house. I’ve only been gone for six months, what’s the big deal?”

“If you leave this time, you don’t know when you’ll come back. This trip is because of Joo-eun’s wedding, right?”

“I guess I’ll come back at least once a year.”

“I see.”

Suddenly, an unexpected silence fell. It was a strangely unfamiliar silence. It felt like the first silence they had experienced since they met.

It was difficult to casually mention their next meeting in this peculiar relationship that was too indecent to call friendship and devoid of love to call a romantic involvement. 

He couldn’t say, “Call me when you come back, let’s have a meal,” like a friend, nor could he say, “I’ll miss you,” like a lover. Suddenly, Chaeyoon realized the nature of their relationship.

As they searched in vain for the right words, reaching the peak of awkwardness, an attendant came to notify them it was time to board the plane.

“Let’s go.”

Contrary to the recent silence, Seonho smiled softly and casually extended his hand.

To Seonho, this gesture was natural, but for Chaeyoon, it was not. She considered ignoring it but instead took his hand and stood up.

After all, this might be the last time they would hold hands like this.

They might encounter each other somewhere as long as they live. But she couldn’t know if they would ever hold hands like this again.

Seonho began walking, holding her hand tightly.

What’s this stuffy feeling? It can’t be regret, can it?

A strange feeling tightened around her chest, but Chaeyoon quickly shook off the emotion.

Regret? That was an emotion that should never exist between them.

Their only f*ck buddies.

It’s a crude way of putting it, but that’s how she’s decided to define her relationship with him. She could remember the s*x with him, but she would not harbor any emotions towards him.

Chaeyoon resisted the urge to get sentimental by reminding herself that she wouldn’t get involved with a man from a chaebol family.

***

“Do you know the difference between insects and bugs?”

A little girl with a face darkened by the sun raised her fingers holding a dragonfly as she asked.

“Are you asking because you don’t know, or do you want to see if I know?”

Seonho asked, looking uncharacteristically free and full of life for a ten-year-old.

“It doesn’t matter which. I just wanted to talk to you.”

The little girl smiled broadly at Seonho.

“Oh my, what’s that?”

Joo-eun, dressed in a flowy lace dress, exclaimed in surprise as she asked the girl.

“A dragonfly. Want to try catching it?”

“No, it’s scary.”

Joo-eun shook her head, her face turning pale.

“Hahaha, what’s there to be scared of? It’s more afraid of you. I should let it go before its wings get damaged.”

Seonho looked at the child laughing heartily with a puzzled expression.

What was she so happy about?

“You’ve got dirt on your clothes.”

“Where?”

“On your bottom.”

Joo-eun pointed at the girl’s bottom.

“Really?”

The girl dusted the dirt off her shorts.

“You’re getting dirt on your hands.”

Joo-eun looked even more horrified.

“You can wash them off. My dad says dirt isn’t dirty. He says all life starts from this soil, and that’s why we need to protect this precious soil.”

The girl crouched down, grabbing and releasing handfuls of garden soil.

“Of course, you must wash your hands thoroughly after touching the soil, because it contains microbes and germs that can make you sick. I’ll go wash my hands.”

The girl got up and ran towards the water faucet.

“What’s her name?”

Seonho watched the girl running off and asked Joo-eun.

“Chaeyoon. Han Chaeyoon.”

“Han Chaeyoon.”

Seonho repeated the name a few times in a low voice, as if trying to memorize it.

Seonho suddenly woke up from his sleep. He had come home from work and was catching up on overdue tasks when he must have dozed off. At that time, he had dreamt of the first time he met Chaeyoon.

Seonho first met Chaeyoon when he was ten years old, in the garden of Joo-eun’s house. 

Chaeyoon, who had spent several years in England on a farm with her parents, was a truly unusual child. 

With her sun-darkened face and comfortably dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, she handled bugs and dirt with ease. 

What was truly peculiar was her constant bright smile—it seemed so joyful and out of place. Such smiles were rare to see around Seonho, where girls behaved as if sunburn would lead to a deadly disease, competing in wearing the latest fashionable clothes and accessories, spending exorbitant amounts of money yet always seeming dissatisfied and complaining.

Chaeyoon was a strange child who seemed to have come from a strange land, not England, and it was hard to look away from her, especially her vibrant eyes, which were black and sparkling.

That’s why she was bothering her. Despite trying not to notice, Seonho found his gaze constantly drawn to this vibrant child.

Seonho, who seemingly had everything, felt his own deficiencies more acutely whenever he saw Chaeyoon. He envied the vitality she exuded—a vitality he couldn’t buy or achieve through effort, something even a young Seonho understood he couldn’t possess.

Thus, he was jealous of Chaeyoon. She had something he desperately wanted but knew he could never have.

“You look very tired.”

Junsu handed Seonho a cup of herbal tea for fatigue.

“I pushed myself a little too hard.”

Seonho chuckled, his laughter coming easily as he remembered the times spent with Chaeyoon. He felt he had never been as active in his life as he was then.

“So, did you get any answers?”

Junsu asked Seonho.

“Answer? ……Ah!”

Seonho suddenly remembered the excuse he had made to attend Joo-eun’s wedding. It felt like a distant memory, though it was just a few days ago.

Seonho had been incredibly busy preparing a new project proposal. Furthermore, attending Joo-eun’s wedding was a delicate issue. It wasn’t just that there was no real need to attend; it would have been more prudent not to attend at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve to be there, it’s just that he shouldn’t have been.

Seonho, having served as a witness for Seokhyun and Joo-eun’s marriage registration and having maintained his stock holdings to act as Seokhyun’s shield, had done more than enough. But it was Chaeyoon who preoccupied his thoughts now.

“You said you might find your answers if you met Chaeyoon again.”

Seonho’s gaze wandered to the table where a gift from Chaeyoon lay. 

“Do you think I like her?”

Seonho asked out of the blue.