2.1 Bad Deeds, Bitter Taste

The road was filled with the dimly glowing red taillights of cars. The congestion during rush hour showed no signs of easing. Instead, the number of cars swelled as if multiplying endlessly. Even when the red light turned green, the cars crawled forward only a few meters at a time.  

A few vehicles failed to make it through before the light changed again.  

Junmo glared at the newly turned red light with narrowed eyes.  

His mood was utterly miserable.  

Contrary to his certainty, he hadn’t gained anything from Park Sujin. She had firmly pressed her lips together and refused to say a word. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.  

‘You know, don’t you?’ 

That was all Park Sujin had said, as if that single sentence explained everything. She even puckered her lips and stared at Junmo with wide, round eyes. It was a look that seemed to say, ‘Why are you acting clueless when you already know?’  

Of course, he knew. That damn confidentiality and the obligation to protect a patient’s privacy.  

He had completely forgotten that Park Sujin was a stickler for principles. Once she decided to keep her mouth shut, she was like a clam—impossible to pry open.  

It was only later that he realized the question he had asked was wrong from the start. He had no choice but to admit his mistake. Instead of asking if Yoon Leeseo had come early that morning, he should have interrogated why a non-family member, an outsider, had been allowed entry at such an hour.  

Normally, he would’ve thought of that much. But this time, he cleanly gave up and walked away. Arguing would only result in a barrage of nagging.  

As he set aside his regret and exited the VIP ward, he stepped into the elevator leading to the emergency room.  

‘Hold on.’  

Just as the doors were about to close, a nurse carrying a stack of charts climbed in. She hurried aboard but didn’t press the button for her desired floor.  

Junmo, intending to press it for her, asked, 

‘Which floor?’ 

When she said she was heading to the intensive care unit, he pressed the button for that floor.  

As always, an awkward silence filled the elevator.  

‘Thank you for the fruit earlier.’ 

Breaking the silence, the nurse cautiously spoke, glancing at Junmo for a moment before opening her mouth with a careful demeanor. 

‘About what you asked Su earlier…’ 

It was an unexpected moment when his curiosity began to unravel. The “Su” she mentioned referred to Head Nurse Park Sujin. 

‘Early this morning… a woman did come by. But I’m not sure if she was Yoon Leeseo.’ 

Even after saying that, she hesitated, her demeanor suggesting that she knew something. It looked like she was caught between wanting to speak and feeling bound by the principle that she shouldn’t. 

When Junmo responded with a disinterested “Ah, I see,” she seemed to make up her mind and began speaking more freely. 

‘But… the cleaning lady who came out of that room muttered something about finding a condom in the room…’ 

Beep!  

The blaring honk of a car horn snapped Junmo out of his thoughts, and he felt a surge of irritation.  

“Such a temper.” 

He muttered.  

Glancing at the rearview mirror, he started driving again. His sour mood made harsh words slip out of his mouth naturally.  

In truth, his mind was a tangled mess of unresolved thoughts.  

No matter how much Junhyung was obsessed with women, it seemed impossible that he would do something so absurd in a hospital, especially the night before surgery. But then, that thought flipped.  

Considering Junhyung’s history of outrageous behavior, maybe he really could have done something like that.  

The condom the cleaning lady found was one thing, but…  

What about Yoon Leeseo?  

Junhyung, the condom, and Yoon Leeseo visiting the hospital early in the morning.  

When he pieced those three elements together, a vulgar image naturally came to mind. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he couldn’t shake off the thought.  

By the time he arrived at the apartment parking lot and got out of the car, his forehead felt hot, and it seemed like steam was rising from the top of his head. 

* * * 

As soon as he deactivated the door lock and stepped into the entrance, the bright sensor light poured down onto his head.  

Junmo pressed his thumb against his temple and pushed open the inner door. The warm aroma of rice and the cozy heat enveloped him entirely. In stark contrast to his mood, the rhythmic chik-chik-chik sound of the pressure cooker’s valve spinning was oddly cheerful.  

The kitchen lights were brightly lit, but Leeseo was nowhere to be seen.  

Perhaps it was for the best. If she had been there, harsh words would have likely spilled out uncontrollably.  

Entering his room, Junmo grabbed a change of clothes and headed straight to the bathroom. He stepped into the shower booth, adjusted the showerhead to cold water, and turned it on.  

Whoosh—  

The strong water pressure pounded against the top of his head. His hair stuck up in all directions, and a wave of goosebumps swept over his skin, but it lasted only a moment.  

Leaning one hand against the tiled wall, Junmo stood still for a long time.  

Even as the cold water rained down on him, the images playing over and over in his mind refused to stop. The heat simmering inside him showed no signs of dissipating.  

He knew it was all just imagination, that nothing had been confirmed, but he couldn’t help feeling furious. His reason and emotions were at odds. His rationality, crushed under the weight of his intense emotions, was powerless. 

 Knock, knock.  

The sound of someone knocking on the bathroom door broke through the noise of the water. Junmo turned off the shower.  

Knock, knock. 

 It came again.  

It had to be Leeseo. 

 “What?”  

Junmo barked toward the door, wiping the water running down his face with his palm.  

“When did you get home?”  

Leeseo’s timid voice came from beyond the door.  

“Just now.”  

His voice was laced with irritation, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk. He hoped she would just go away.  

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you?”  

“I’m not eating.”  

“But you only had a sandwich for breakfast.”  

Junmo clenched his teeth so hard they ground together.  

“Just eat on your own.”  

He muttered the words under his breath like a curse.  

Leeseo’s voice didn’t come again. There wasn’t even a hint of movement from outside. 

After pausing briefly to listen for any signs of life, Junmo roughly dried the water off his body. He grudgingly put on his clothes, but the fabric clung to his damp skin, making him feel nauseous.  

When he was alone, he could shower and wander around the house freely without a care.  

Now everything just felt inconvenient.  

As soon as he threw on his clothes and swung open the bathroom door, Leeseo was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed.  

She had been waiting for him, as if she had planned to confront him. She was wearing an apron meant for painting, and there were traces of paint on her hands, suggesting she had come straight from working on a painting in her room.  

“What are you doing?”  

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. It wasn’t out of surprise but pure disbelief.  

“Revenge tastes best when served, don’t you think?”  

Her calm, cheerful words left him speechless. She must have been referring to what had happened earlier in the morning. Her face carried a playful smile.  

Leeseo’s bare face, free of makeup, was as clear as crystal, and her eyes were so innocent they seemed to mock the chaotic thoughts that had taken over his mind.  

“So, do you feel better now?” 

Junmo ran his fingers through his damp hair and responded with a sarcastic tone.  

“A little?”  

She wrinkled her nose and smiled, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, incredulous laugh.  

The fire in his mind, which even the cold shower couldn’t extinguish, began to die down.  

At the same time, Leeseo’s demeanor felt unfamiliar to him. Normally, she would clam up and retreat whenever he raised his voice, leaving him unsure whether she was sulking or just intimidated. 

“I thought you gave up on painting?”  

“I started again.”  

“What about your knee?”  

“My knee?”  

“You hit it this morning. Isn’t it swollen?”  

“Oh, that? It’s not swollen. Just a little bruised, I think.”  

Before Junmo could say anything else, the mechanical beep-beep sound of the pressure cooker interrupted them, followed by a woman’s voice announcing that the rice was ready.  

“You heard that, didn’t you? Dinner’s ready. Come on out and eat.”  

Leeseo left the room, but Junmo remained standing there as if rooted to the spot.  

She’s not usually like this.

Junmo turned his head to glance at the door Leeseo had just exited through and then muttered, “Ugh, damn it!” He ruffled his hair roughly and scrubbed his face with both hands.  

It felt like he was under a spell.  

Like the old tales of a noble tiger in traditional robes and a gat, puffing on a pipe and exuding authority, only to be bewitched by a nine-tailed fox while crossing a mountain pass with a bundle on his back.