Chapter 4.7

It was both an ordinary day and yet not so ordinary.

Jeong-hyeok’s phone sat squarely in the middle of his desk. Normally, he would keep it tucked away in the inner pocket of his suit.

Tap-tap-tap-tap—

His fingers, typing on the keyboard, repeatedly hit the ‘Backspace’ key. Though the phone was merely placed on his desk, and nothing else had changed, he found himself making typos today. His attention kept drifting toward the phone.

Brrrrrr—

At that moment, the phone on the desk vibrated loudly. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.

His leisurely gaze shifted to a business card neatly placed next to the phone. The number on the screen matched the one on the card—the furniture store manager’s number.

The business card had been brought back by Chief Cheon, who had been sent to the furniture store. Since Chief Cheon wouldn’t have shared Jeong-hyeok’s phone number with the manager, it was highly likely that the call had been made by Kim Eun-sol.

In short, it was the call he had been waiting for.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He didn’t answer. The phone rang persistently for a while before stopping, only to start ringing again moments later.

For some reason, the vibration seemed faster this time. He could vividly picture Eun-sol growing more anxious on the other end.

Leaning back comfortably in his chair, he waited.

This morning, on his way to work, the radio played “Andante Cantabile.” The radio host had enthusiastically described it as a piece that evoked the fresh mood of spring, but it hadn’t left much of an impression on him.

Compared to that, the rhythmic noise of the phone vibrating against the desk was oddly pleasant to his ears.

Suddenly, he grew curious. 

How many times would Kim Eun-sol call?

‘Two times? Six times? Or even more?’

As if it were a gamble involving a large sum of money, he tried hard to guess the exact number.

In the past, he could have confidently bet on two calls from Kim Eun-sol.

‘But as for the current Kim Eun-sol… well….’

This time, it wasn’t so easy to predict.

‘Even if she calls 30 times, it wouldn’t be strange. And if she only calls once and doesn’t call again, that wouldn’t be strange either.’

He idly tapped his fingers on the trackpad, moving the mouse cursor aimlessly across the monitor screen.

These days, Kim Eun-sol was still within a broadly predictable range of behavior. But that was it—she was merely within that range. He couldn’t figure out the unpredictable actions that occurred within that range.

The buzzing phone stopped ringing. The screen flashed, notifying him of five missed calls.

Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. Only then did he slowly extend his hand to answer the call.

“…Yes.”

Before he could even finish his response, Eun-sol’s voice burst out.

-This isn’t what we talked about! You know I wasn’t saying we should replace the bed with a smaller one, but that we should add another one…!

Once again, he found himself marveling at the technological prowess of the country. Her frustrated breathing, tinged with anger, was transmitted perfectly through the speaker.

“You wanted to bring in a smaller bed, and I just wanted to remove the bigger bed. What’s the problem? It’s perfectly fair.”

Her request from the night before in the bedroom had been both endearing and audacious. It was the first time she had actively demanded something.

Did she really need a phone that badly? 

He had pondered this while slowly loosening his tie.

That afternoon, the driver’s report had been somewhat unexpected. Eun-sol, who had gone to the hospital for knee treatment, had reportedly requested a vitamin IV drip.

Given that Eun-sol had never shown much interest in her health, he found it suspicious. There might be some connection between the sudden request for a vitamin IV drip and her need for a phone.

Could she have used the IV drip as an excuse to go out and get a phone?

It would have been very simple to grab her arm and check for any marks left by the IV needle, but he decided against it.

He didn’t know what she was scheming, but having some sort of plan wasn’t a bad look on her.

It was as if, once one scheme disappeared, she would busily fill the void with another.

Though her schemes often provoked his anger, they were still far better than the lethargic version of Kim Eun-sol.

For that reason, he had briefly considered returning her phone. After all, he had retrieved the phone she had handed over to a high school student during her so-called runaway attempt.

But he soon dismissed the thought. The benefits of giving it back were too insignificant.

There was also a childish desire to see a little more of the stubborn side of Kim Eun-sol.

Above all, one word that had slipped from Eun-sol’s lips had left his thoughts unsettled.

“It’s my personal life. I don’t see why I have to report everything to you, even if we are married.”

He should have been angry, but ridiculously, he wasn’t.

The phrase “even if we are married,” spoken by Eun-sol, tickled his ears in an oddly embarrassing way.

Retracing the feelings from the previous night, Jeong-hyeok refocused on the phone conversation with Eun-sol.

-It’s not fair at all. What kind of logic is this?!

When he remained silent, her urgency grew, and she was the first to suggest terms for negotiation.

-I’ll give up on the small bed, so just tell the staff here to leave the large bed as it is.

A faint smile crept onto his lips.

But what could I do, Sol-ah? It was already too late.

“…I’m busy, so let’s hang up.”

-Wait, Jeong-hyeok!

Click—he ended the call without hesitation.

‘Sol-ah. You shouldn’t have said that.’

Sharing a bed with me makes you uncomfortable?

If she truly knew who was enduring the real torment of sharing a bed, she wouldn’t have dared to say such a thing.

He glanced at the clock. It was still only 3 p.m. There was a long time left until he could leave work.

Eun-sol stood in the middle of the bedroom, like a traveler lost in the desert.

In the end, she had lost the large bed. The empty space felt desolate.

Soon, the staff arrived, carrying mops and cleaning tools. They were there to clean the spot left vacant by the bed’s removal.

“Oh, ma’am. There’s a lot of dust here. Why don’t you stay in another room? We’ll call you back once we’re done.”

The staff member’s voice brought her back to her senses.

She left the bedroom and, eventually, the mansion altogether. Wandering aimlessly, she found herself at the residents’ center, Aritaum.

Today, the inside of Aritaum was quiet as usual.

“Hey, Noona. You’re here? I thought today might be the day you’d come.”

On the second floor of the unmanned café, Hae-seong was already there. As far as she knew, the only residents who regularly used this place were Hae-seong and herself.

“Hi, Hae-seong. I need a cold coffee today.”

Her body felt like it was constantly overheating. She ordered an iced Americano from the robot barista.

“Ha…!”

The drink felt cool while she sipped it, but it did nothing to cool her down inside.

More than anything, caffeine was no help in her agitated state. The blood coursing through her veins sped up, and her heart pounded loudly.

Hae-seong, sitting across from her, rambled on about something, but she couldn’t focus.

Her mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of Kwon Jeong-hyeok and the bed situation.

She truly couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.

‘Does he seriously mean for both of us to sleep on that tiny bed?’

“Oh, that’s ridiculous!”

Overwhelmed again, she accidentally spoke out loud.

“What’s ridiculous? What are you even thinking about by yourself?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Hey, Hae-seong, do you happen to have any sleeping pills?”

“What? Why do you suddenly need sleeping pills?”

“If you have some, just give me one—or however many you’ve got. I feel like I need to sleep deeply for a while.”

Pretending to be asleep wasn’t going to work anymore. She had to truly sleep like the dead.

“Sleeping pills? Do I look like someone who’d have those? I’m the kind of person who worries about sleeping too well.”

“Yeah, I was just saying.”

“If you can’t sleep, alcohol is the best remedy.”

“Alcohol? You sound like you’ve lived two lives already. You’re way too young to be saying things like that.”

Hae-seong grinned widely.

“I just picked it up from others. Actually, I’m preparing for the practical exam for a bartender’s license. That’s why I’ve been working on developing a cocktail lately—it’s a variation of the trendy highball.”

“Highball? What’s that?”

She thought it sounded like the name of a snack or a chocolate ball.

“Ugh. Noona, what do you even know? Then again, when you said you didn’t even have a phone, I figured it all out.”

Hae-seong clicked his tongue as if he found her hopeless.

For a moment, Kwon Jeong-hyeok came to mind. That expression of treating her like a child—Jeong-hyeok often made the same face. But it felt entirely different. When Jeong-hyeok did it, it sparked rebellion in her, but when Hae-seong did it, it was just endearing.