Chapter 11.3

As soon as he left, Moonkyeong opened her eyes. He was right. Compared to his childhood, her life wasn’t so bad. Although she lived a controlled life, she had never lived in fear of death.

She wondered, 

Did he see his own life through me? 

In the fragile girl, he must have seen the wounded boy he once was. Each time, he must have dreamed. 

The thought made her realize how much he wanted to grant her freedom. It was a life both young Seojun and young Min Bora had desperately longed for.

“I was going to plead with him.” 

She murmured with a weak smile.

On the day she was discharged, Moonkyeong called Seojun. She planned to hold on a little longer and somehow break his resolve. Even if she understood his lifelong dream, parting like this didn’t make sense. 

She canceled her ticket to Canada and handled her housing arrangements through a local contact. The exorbitant cancellation fees and penalties left her bank account empty. She thought it was better. Now that she had nowhere to turn, she decided to shamelessly rely on Seojun for everything. Let him tease her for being brazen. That was her specialty anyway. She pressed the call button.

“When do you get off work?”

He sounded slightly flustered by the sudden call.

• Is something wrong?”-

“No, I just wanted to see you. What time do you finish?”

• Around seven.

“Perfect. That’s not long. Let’s have dinner and watch a movie.”

• …..

“You’ll come pick me up, right? I look stunning now that I’m out of my hospital gown.”

His soft laughter over the phone filled her chest with warmth. Even the faint chuckle mixed with his breathing delighted her. Twirling her hair with her fingers, she thought about how she would never hear his voice again unless one of them called the other. He had promised:

[’ll never eavesdrop on you again.]

She knew he would keep that promise to the end, and she also knew he was probably thinking of ways to push her away even now. Before he could reject her coldly, she quickly ended the call. As soon as she hung up, embarrassment washed over her, coloring her cheeks red. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the slight tremor in her voice when she’d said she looked stunning.

At 7 p.m. sharp, he arrived with perfect punctuality and picked her up. As she got into the passenger seat, she smiled slyly.

“Your subordinates must have a hard time.”

“Why?”

“That’s a secret.”

People said he resembled the late Chairman in how he never wasted time and bulldozed through anything he set his mind to. Sometimes, she wished he would live a little more loosely.

Moonkyeong turned on the radio. Classical music played, and even in that moment, she was acutely aware of Seojun’s gaze fixed solely on her.

“Why do you keep staring at me?”

“I’m checking if you look pretty or not now that you’re out of the hospital gown.”

“……”

As he pressed the accelerator, his gaze shifted toward the window.

“You’re pretty.”

His sudden compliment left Moonkyeong flustered. She fiddled with her earrings, which were far flashier than usual. She had dressed up, wearing a light pink dress and letting her long hair fall freely, all to catch his attention. But now, she felt shy. 

She had decided not to hide her feelings anymore, but she worried it might be too obvious.

“Did you pick a movie?”

At Seojun’s question, Moonkyeong turned her head.

“No. Can’t we decide when we get there?”

“It’s dinner time, so there might not be good seats left. Is this your first time at a theater?”

“…Yes.”

Of course. Seojun chuckled and called Chief Secretary Yoon. He requested a romantic comedy, something Moonkyeong would like, around 8:30 p.m., and reserved two seats. Since the call was on speakerphone, Moonkyeong could hear Yoon’s response.

• Executive Director, for the romance movie starting at 8:25, only the front-row seats are available. The next showing is at 10:55.

“What about other movies?”

• They’re similar. Should I contact the theater directly?

“No, it’s fine. Reserve the front-row seats.”

Seojun ended the call and teased Moonkyeong by repeatedly rubbing his neck, pretending it was already stiff from the idea of sitting in the front row. She glared at him, but his hands finally returned to their proper place.

“From now on, just tell me what you want to do. Don’t cause trouble.”

“I didn’t think we needed a reservation.”

Pouting, she stuck out her lips, and Seojun gently patted the top of her head.

“Okay, who said anything?”

“Ugh, after teasing me so much.”

“I wasn’t teasing.”

“Then what was it?”

“Let’s call it damage control.”

This man! 

Once again, he ruffled her hair, and despite, she smiled. 

The idea of the two of them going on dates during a divorce lawsuit would shock anyone if it became public. But public opinion didn’t matter to them. Whether people took photos or assumed she was another mistress, it was irrelevant. Moonkyeong had no intention of leaving his side. 

She wanted to protect this love. She decided to be a little braver.

The two had dinner near the theater. When Seojun suggested sushi, Moonkyeong firmly refused and insisted on going to a restaurant he liked. He chose a tonkatsu place and calmly ordered a cheese tonkatsu and sushi set. Moonkyeong burst into laughter, her smile as radiant as ever, and Seojun, captivated by her, couldn’t hide his own excitement.

At the theater, she clung to him with playful demands.

“Buy me popcorn.”

“Pick one.”

“Hmm, caramel popcorn! And a soda set, too.”

“If you eat too many sweets, you’ll have to brush your teeth thoroughly later.”

“I know that.”

“Just checking.”

As he tried to suppress a laugh, Seojun glanced at her briefly. Watching him place the order at the counter, Moonkyeong shook her head silently. He seemed to enjoy teasing her endlessly. 

Fine, let’s see who gives up first.

Determined, she trotted over and stuck close to him again. 

When the lights dimmed in the theater, she boldly grabbed his hand. Seojun, who had been eating popcorn, playfully flicked her forehead.

“Take it easy, Seo Moonkyeong.”

“Ow.”

He tried to soothe her, and they ended up holding hands until the movie ended. 

From that day on, Moonkyeong met Seojun every day. They went to amusement parks, bookstores, and took nightly walks under the vibrant cherry blossoms of April. Every night, Seojun drove her home to her place in Samseong-dong. Like any other couple, he seemed to be sad when the date ended, but he never came inside the house.

Meanwhile, their divorce proceedings moved forward smoothly. At the second mediation, they finalized their divorce with an agreement, as Seojun had promised, to pay her 20 billion won in alimony. 

The day after filing their divorce papers, the media covered the story extensively. Headlines declared the divorce of Leehan Group’s likely successor, Kim Seojun, and retired ballerina Seo Moonkyeong. Malicious reports flooded in, blaming his infidelity for the failure of their marriage.

Ironically, on the day the news broke, Moonkyeong and Seojun were in Gangwon Province. She watched him from a distance as he brewed coffee over a campfire, her hand resting on her chest. 

No matter how hard she tried, he never changed. She had underestimated Kim Seojun. He was an impenetrable fortress. The kinder he was to her, the sadder she felt. 

The closer she got to him, the closer he seemed to move toward their inevitable separation. His kindness was a clear sign that their parting was near.

Without a word, she sat beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Hmm, the coffee smells nice. Did you know our story made the news today?”

“Yeah.”

“People are criticizing you a lot. They’re even cheering me on, saying I should’ve taken more money.”

“Should I give you more?”

Moonkyeong lifted her head from his shoulder and shook it. She had also heard that National Assembly Member Lee Hankyu of the Yurim Party was gaining significant support lately. While volunteering with Hyesook during the day, Moonkyeong couldn’t help but notice how worried the other volunteers were, though Hyesook herself seemed unbothered.

“National Assembly Member Jeon Taepyeong’s approval ratings have dropped a lot lately. Is that okay?”

“They’ll bounce back soon. Don’t worry.”

“I’m also worried that I might’ve caused a rift between you two.”

Seojun gently cupped her cheek. His warm gaze reassured her, and she nodded.

The flames crackled and burned brightly but couldn’t defy time. Slowly, they dimmed and turned to ash, scattering.

She had intended to rekindle the remaining embers, but Seojun returned to the tent with a document in hand.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Inside were the flight tickets Moonkyeong had canceled, along with a contract for a house several times larger than the one she had originally planned to rent. There was more—a new bankbook and card in her name, something she had never owned before.

Seojun drained the last drop of his now-cold coffee.

“The officetel in Samseong-dong has been sold. You’ll need to move your things out by next week.”

“Seojun!”

“I’ll deposit the money from the house sale into your account. Enjoy your life—do whatever you want. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

Moonkyeong’s eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, determined not to cry this time.

“I’m fine with just 20 billion won.”

“You’re planning to give that to someone else, aren’t you?”

“……”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know? I don’t need to eavesdrop to figure out what you’re thinking, Seo Moonkyeong. It’s obvious.”

“……”

“Good girl Seo Moonkyeong, it’s bedtime now. Let’s go in.”

He patted her shoulder a couple of times before standing up. After checking the tent one more time, he pushed her inside and went to sleep in the car himself.

Somewhere, a warm breeze reignited the flames they had extinguished. Amid the black ashes, a faint ember clung to life, slowly flickering back to life. 

Neither Moonkyeong nor Seojun realized this—at least, not tonight.