As Jung-jae responded seriously, pushing back against Assistant Manager Choi, the entire TF team held their breath, eyes locked on the tense exchange. Seol-ah couldn’t shake her unease, still replaying Jung-jae’s drunken call from the night before in her mind. Even though they no longer had personal ties, relationships weren’t something you could cut cleanly, like slicing a radish with a knife. No matter how much she wanted to sever things, the remnants of their three-year relationship lingered everywhere.

“Alright, since you think making copies is so trivial, let me ask you—have you ever done this ‘trivial’ task properly?” 

“!” 

Jung-jae was caught off guard, momentarily speechless. 

“Have you ever considered how important these documents are that you’re so quick to dismiss as trivial? Do you understand that everything at LJ Electronics depends on these so-called trivial documents?”

Choi’s voice held a sharp edge, cutting through the silence like a blade.

“That’s not what I meant…”

Jung-jae tried to clarify, but Choi didn’t let up.

“Is that so? Then explain what you meant, because I heard it exactly as you said. Let’s ask the team. Did anyone here understand Jung-jae’s words differently than I did?”

The room remained heavy with silence, each team member avoiding eye contact. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over them, leaving a chilling sense of discomfort. No one dared to speak up, the tension thick in the air.

Seeing no response, Choi delivered his final blow.

“Lee Jung-jae, if you can’t even manage something as ‘trivial’ as making copies, I suggest you start writing your resignation letter. If you can’t do that, how can you be expected to do anything else properly? Don’t you agree?” He sat back, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not interested in wasting my valuable efforts training someone who shows no signs of improvement.”

Jung-jae, feeling the full weight of Choi’s words, glanced over at Seol-ah. She met his gaze, but the moment their eyes locked, she quickly turned away, unable to hold it. What hurt Jung-jae the most wasn’t Choi’s harsh remarks; it was the humiliation of being belittled in front of Seol-ah.

“I’ll hand in my resignation.”

Jung-jae said firmly, his voice steady. The rest of the team sighed inwardly, understanding the unspoken rule among new hires: if you couldn’t endure Choi’s brutal criticism, your time at the company was over before it even began. Jung-jae’s departure felt like another testament to this unwritten law.

Seol-ah watched as Jung-jae stormed out of the office, her head shaking slightly as she tried to push away the lingering emotions and refocus on her work. Just then, her phone, sitting on the desk, began to vibrate, snapping her out of her thoughts.

When Seol-ah saw Lee Jung-jae on the caller ID, she irritably declined the call.

Bzzz, bzzz!

Her phone buzzed again. Knowing Jung-jae’s persistence, she let out a long, exasperated sigh and stepped out of the office, phone in hand.

As she walked toward a secluded spot, she caught sight of Jung-jae standing there, waiting. Annoyed, she canceled the call and approached him.

“What now?”

She already had a sense that something was off when he called drunk the previous night, but it wasn’t her responsibility to figure it out. No matter what trouble Jung-jae was in, he didn’t have the right to involve her anymore.

“Seol-ah, what am I going to do?”

“What do you mean ‘what are you going to do’? And why were you calling me in the middle of the night, drunk?”

“Did you ever think I might’ve had a reason for it?”

“Why should I care? Do you have short-term memory loss? Or maybe early-onset dementia? Or do you just think I’m a joke?” Seol-ah’s voice grew colder. “Why are you bringing your problems to me? What’s the point of keeping your wife around if you’re just going to drag me into this? Don’t ever drag me into this again, got it?”

Seol-ah turned to walk away, but Jae quickly reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Seol-ah, wait.”

“Let me go,” Seol-ah hissed, her eyes darting around nervously. “What if someone sees us?”

“Seol-ah, I was wrong. I really messed up. I didn’t realize how amazing you were. I must’ve been out of my mind.”

“Cut the crap.”

Seol-ah spat, her voice like a knife. Jung-jae bowed his head, accepting the harshness of her words, knowing he deserved every bit of it.

Seol-ah slapped Jung-jae’s hand off her arm, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

“Let me make this clear: your problems aren’t mine. Talk to your wife about them, understood?”

Just as she was about to turn away, Jung-jae’s voice broke through, desperate and unsteady.

“I might be getting a divorce.”

“What?”

Seol-ah stopped in her tracks, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion.

“Seol-ran left me.”

Jung-jae admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She wants a divorce.”

This revelation was a shock, but Seol-ah quickly pushed down her surprise and responded coldly. 

“And what does that have to do with me? Instead of causing a scene here, why don’t you go and beg your wife to take you back?”

She shot back, shaking her head in frustration. She turned to leave again, but Jung-jae grabbed her arm once more.

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday—no breakfast, no dinner. I drank on an empty stomach, and now I feel like my insides are burning. I miss that yellowtail soup you used to make.”

Jung-jae said, his voice breaking slightly. Seol-ah stared at him, her face contorting with shock and incredulity.

“Are you seriously asking me to make you hangover soup right now?” Seo-a’s voice was sharp with disbelief. “If that’s what you meant, you’ve hit a new low—even for you.”

“No, I just wanted to say how much I missed the meals you used to make for me. Since getting married, I haven’t had a single meal from my wife—not even a slice of bread with jam. I keep thinking about the meals you prepared with so much care… It makes me want to cry.”

Jung-jae said, looking at Seol-ah with an expression full of regret, almost pleading for sympathy.

“Oh, so you thought I’d say, ‘Thank you for realizing it now, I appreciate it,’ huh?”

Seol-ah snapped, her voice rising in anger. She roughly slapped Jung-jae’s hand off her arm and turned away. But Jung-jae wasn’t ready to give up. He reached for her arm again, only to be met with Seol-ah’s sudden kick to his legs, sending him stumbling down in pain.

“Do you know why people say, ‘Appreciate what you have while you have it’?”

Seol-ah asked, glaring down at Jung-jae. Rubbing his aching legs, Jung-jae looked up at her, confused.

“It’s for people like you.”

She snapped before walking away without a second glance, leaving Jung-jae to swallow his pain and exhale a deep, regretful sigh from the depths of his soul.

From a distance, Hwi-gang had been watching the scene unfold, and now he approached Seol-ah as if he’d just stepped off the elevator.

“Oh?”

“Oh? Is that all you have to say when you see your boyfriend? You should be running into my arms.”

Seol-ah shot him a sharp look.

“You do know the difference between work and personal life, don’t you, Director? We’re at the office, after all.”

“I’m holding back my urges because of that,” Hwi-gang replied with a grin.

“What urges?”

“The urge to kiss you.”

Seol-ah, worried someone might overhear, quickly glanced around and pinched his side.

“Keep it low,” she whispered, covering his mouth to muffle the sound of his yelp.

But Hwi-gang, ever the playful one, stuck out his tongue and licked her palm, causing her to pull her hand back in surprise.

“Hey! I can’t believe you!”

Seol-ah shot Hwi-gang a sideways glance, but he was all smiles, clearly enjoying himself as he asked, “Why are you over here? Did you meet someone?”