Chapter 2 – Twenty-eight (Part 2)

The guy Dowook pointed to was dancing wildly with two women clinging to his sides.

“That guy’s driver was waiting in the basement, got the call, and came right up, so I ended up second. You went to law school. As someone who studied law, judge fairly.”

“…….”

“We made a bet. We wouldn’t tell anyone where we were and see who could get someone to find us the fastest. But that guy called his driver, who brought him straight here. He won the bet that way. Do you think that’s fair?”

Dowook’s gaze was arrogant, expecting her agreement.

“Then you should have called your driver.”

Junhee coldly replied, standing up. Dowook’s hand naturally fell from her shoulder.

“Ah, so I was stupid?”

Still soaked in alcohol, Choi Dowook continued to spout nonsense.

Junhee sighed. The noise and smell of alcohol made her head throb. She grabbed her bag, which was carelessly placed on the sofa, and slung it over her shoulder.

“Get up.”

Before long, Dowook, with a cigarette in his mouth, looked up at Junhee blankly. Junhee continued as if to reason with him.

“We should go home.”

“You talk as if you’re going to take me home.”

“Yes, I’ll take you home. Get up.”

“Politely, Woo Junhee.”

Dowook took the cigarette out from between his fingers.

“Say, ‘Please let me take you home’ more politely, and I’ll go.”

A faint smile lingered at the corners of his lips as he spoke. Junhee looked at it for a while before speaking calmly.

“…Please let me take you home.”

She did as he wished, but Dowook said nothing. He twirled the cigarette holder between his fingers.

Time passed in silence. Despite the surrounding noise, Junhee suddenly felt as if she were trapped in a confined space. Dowook’s persistent gaze gave her that feeling.

It was when the light illuminating Dowook’s face changed colors about ten times.

“Then you should get up.”

Dowook crushed the cigarette in his hand. He dropped the crumbled pieces to the floor and surprisingly got up without resistance. However, his body swayed forward. Junhee quickly grabbed his shoulder to steady him. It had been a long time since Dowook was this drunk. 

How much had he drunk?

At that moment, the men dancing on the stage held onto Dowook regretfully.

They told him to stay longer. They said the night had just begun, and they had planned to go to the third and fourth rounds together. They blocked Junhee’s path, saying there was a more glamorous course prepared for him in a high hotel room above this club.

Junhee’s gaze toward them was icy.

“Wow, are you really Choi Dowook’s wife? Your eyes are scary. Don’t be like that. You, the second place, should stay and have more fun too. I’ll treat you well.”

When the man reached out to grab Junhee’s arm, Dowook twisted the man’s wrist. The man immediately groaned in pain.

“Hey, Choi Dowook, you son of a… It hurts. Damn, it hurts…!”

“I’m tired. Take me away quickly.”

Dowook twisted the man’s wrist and pushed him away, then leaned heavily on Junhee’s shoulder. His body was excessively hot, probably from the alcohol.

With Dowook’s large body leaning on her, Junhee cautiously moved forward. Leading a drunken Choi Dowook through a crowd of half-conscious people was harder than she thought. Whenever she stumbled under Dowook’s weight, he got annoyed.

You’re giving me a headache. Walk straight. You’re so slow.

His childhood temperament resurfaced. Junhee silently endured his complaints.

Finally, they made it outside. The guards nearby approached and supported Dowook. One guard asked Junhee if she was okay. She must have looked quite strained supporting Dowook. Junhee smiled indifferently and said she was fine. She took out her phone to call Dowook’s driver. If she couldn’t reach him, she would have to call a taxi.

At that moment, the club’s old door creaked open again. The man who had been sitting next to Dowook came out with a woman clinging to his side. They whispered sweet nothings to each other, their bodies pressed tightly together.

By coincidence, their eyes met with Junhee’s. The man looked between Junhee and Dowook and then smirked as if he understood.

From beyond the open door, murmured voices floated out.

Who is that woman?

Don’t you know? She’s the one who’s always cleaning up after Choi Dowook.

Choi Dowook calls her out whenever he’s bored to play with her.

I heard she grew up sponsored by the Taesan Foundation. I thought they were dating, but I guess not.

Ah, so she’s like Choi Dowook’s servant.

Servant? That’s such an old-fashioned word. Isn’t she more like Choi Dowook’s personal toy?

Amid the laughter, the phone signal chimed. It was from Dowook’s driver, saying he was on his way. Junhee looked away from her phone to ask the guards to move Dowook to the lobby.

Dowook was staring at her. His disheveled hair, downcast eyes, a few buttons undone on his shirt, and a loose tie.

His gaze seemed to urge Junhee to say something. Junhee avoided his eyes.

“The driver said he’s here. If you take that, you can go straight home—”

Before she could finish, Dowook pushed the two guards aside and walked past Junhee with long strides. He opened the door behind her in one swift motion. There was a dull thud. When she turned around, she saw a man lying at Dowook’s feet beyond the open door.

“This crazy bastard…!”

It was the same voice that had called Junhee a toy.

As the man tried to get up, Dowook grabbed him by the collar and punched him again. He whispered something into the man’s ear that Junhee couldn’t hear.

The man’s face twisted in agony. He looked ready to charge at Dowook but, for some reason, didn’t. He just glared at Dowook with furious eyes.

Until Dowook shook off his hands and turned back to Junhee.

The man never got up. The door closed. From beyond the door, there was the sound of a fist hitting the floor. Over that noise, Junhee imagined hearing the sigh of Dowook’s mother, Song Yeong-joo.

Dowook leaned his forehead against Junhee’s shoulder, looking tired. His hair, brushing against her shoulder, was soft. It felt like a fierce, large dog rubbing its fur against her. The sensation was pleasant yet somehow threatening, causing her to tense up instinctively.

“…I’ll tell Chief Yoon everything about tonight.”

“I’m so scared.”

“Just so you know.”

“Yes, I know very well. So when are you taking me home?”

“Go by yourself.”

Suddenly irritated, she pushed him back toward the guards.

“No. I’m scared.”

As soon as she pushed him away, Dowook pulled her back, saying something ridiculous. He buried his face in her shoulder again and lazily rubbed his eyes. The sight was somehow amusing, but her laughter was short, and her sigh was long.

If Song Yeong-joo found out about this, how much more would she be troubled? How much more would Chief Yoon have to work to clean up this mess?

Dowook, with his forehead against her shoulder, turned his head. His eyes, staring at her intently, were unusually dark.

“Smile.”

Suddenly, he commanded.

“You should smile.”

He demanded it with a cold, frightening expression, not smiling himself.

“Smile like you’re happy.”

The demand was unpleasant, but she complied.

What should I be happy about? 

She swallowed the words. 

That I get to take you home tonight? That you punched the man who insulted me? But who made me like this in the first place?

She swallowed all those words.

After all, Dowook was out of his mind right now. To calm down Choi Dowook in this state, she had to do as he said.

Junhee lifted the corners of her mouth. A picture-perfect smile spread across her face for a moment.

***

Even in the car, he caused a scene.

At first, he said to take him to Heejeongwon, which was close to Jangchung-dong. Almost there, he changed his mind and wanted to go to his apartment. When they arrived, he said he preferred Heejeongwon and had the car turn around.

Annoying, annoying, annoying. 

Junhee muttered beside him, and Dowook, as if understanding like a ghost, suddenly laughed, saying it sounded like song lyrics. He still had his face buried in Junhee’s shoulder. Even when she tried to push him toward the seatback, he persistently pressed his forehead against her.

His breath seeped into her neck. It was hot and humid.

She lowered the window a bit. The spring night breeze blew in. She worried he might make a fuss and demand the window be closed again, but fortunately, he said nothing. His alcohol-laden breath still enveloped her neck.

The cool night of April tempered the heat of his breath. His hair, fluttering in the night breeze, tickled her neck. But she couldn’t scratch it because he wouldn’t lift his head. She endured it desperately.

“I want to eat strawberries.”

Suddenly, Dowook said. She thought it was drunken nonsense and didn’t reply. He repeated,

“I said I want to eat strawberries.”

“Buy them yourself.”

“Feed me.”

Crazy bastard.

She shouldn’t have replied. She looked out the window, ignoring him. Fortunately, he didn’t say anything more. She heard his lazy, rhythmic breathing on her neck. He seemed to have fallen asleep again.