Episode 3
As soon as Se-hee arrived home, she yanked off her skirt and flung it to the floor. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it in big gulps. Only after the cold water slid down her throat and into her stomach did she finally feel a bit of relief.
Ugh. That’s better.
An unfamiliar outfit for a blind date she hadn’t even planned on attending. A substitute for someone else. And any misstep she made would reflect on A-jeong.
Her skirt had torn, and even when the blind date partner arrived, she had to just sit there. And she stayed seated even when he left. He probably thought she was incredibly rude. Thinking about how A-jeong would end up taking the blame made her feel awful.
On top of that, she caused a scene at someone else’s table.
Ugh… So embarrassing. Her grip on the water bottle tightened.
She wasn’t even there for the guy, and yet she chatted with him, made expressions she never usually did… and her skirt tore on top of all that. And she had to explain it to him.
“You’re back, Se-hee? Why do you look so down?”
A-jeong came out of the bathroom and walked over to Se-hee, who was half-crushing the water bottle in her hand. Her face was full of concern. She must have sensed the date had gone badly—after all, you need at least three meetings before people stop asking when the next date is.
Then A-jeong’s eyes landed on the skirt tossed on the floor, and she gasped. The tear ran all the way from the back slit to the zipper.
“Oh? What happened to that skirt? It looks like it got drawn and quartered! What happened out there?”
“My hips happened. I’m gonna shower.”
“Sure, sure. You didn’t eat dinner, right? I’ll get something ready for you.”
Se-hee chuckled lightly and went into the bathroom.
When she came out of the shower, a savory smell greeted her—A-jeong’s one and only dish: pasta.
“For you, I sacrificed my precious labor. You get it, right? So eat up!”
A-jeong tried to gauge her mood and laid on the charm. When Se-hee just silently ate, A-jeong narrowed her eyes and spoke.
“Spill it, Eun Se-hee.”
After a bite of pasta and a swallow, Se-hee recounted everything that had happened at the hotel, sparing no detail. A-jeong had to know.
“Walking through a luxury hotel lobby wrapped in a blanket was so humiliating. Everyone stared. Of all days, it was crowded too. People whispered, and one couple even giggled at me out loud…”
Of course people stared—she was wrapped in a blanket, from the waist down. Everyone had their own ideas about what that meant.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve thought about your hips and butt.”
A-jeong burst into laughter. Se-hee twirled her pasta with a fork and blew on it.
“Are my hips that big?”
“You’re slim but curvy—that’s a good thing.”
“I’ve probably lost touch from wearing only pants lately.”
“But how do you even sit at the wrong table? That’s hilarious. And then talking to that guy? Saying he should go on the blind date instead? AHAHA. That’s mortifying.”
“Yah!”
A-jeong banged on the table, still laughing. It was annoying, but even Se-hee had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
“I just asked to switch seats and he got all stiff about it. What a tightwad.”
“Remember what the fortune teller said? That your destined one would appear this year. Maybe he’s one of them?”
That guy’s words echoed in her mind.
‘Haven’t we met before?’
Where? It did feel that way…
With a face like his, it’d be hard to forget. So what was it? Did she just want to think they’d met because he was good-looking? Se-hee wound too much pasta on her fork, too much to even fit in her mouth.
“I don’t believe in fate. Especially not fortune telling. They all say the same thing—‘he’ll show up this year’ or ‘next year.’”
“You never know.”
“You remember, right? When I was 20, I went to that famous fortune teller. They said I came from a happy home.”
What kind of happy home sends their 9-year-old daughter to an orphanage?
Just thinking about it made her throat dry.
Clink.
She set her fork down harder than necessary and drank some water.
“I told you back then—the fortune teller never said it was your past. They just said you have a happy home. Could’ve meant the future.”
Se-hee shook her head.
Bzzz.
A text lit up her phone screen. Her one and only family—Dad. Not by blood, but the most precious person in her life. She put down her water glass and answered the call.
“Hey, Dad.” —You doing okay, sweetheart? “Of course. You? Did you eat? You’re not skipping meals just because you’re alone, right?” —I eat just fine. Don’t worry. “You’re the adult, but you keep making me worry like I’m your mom.”
She could picture it already: dinner for him was probably just something simple he scarfed down. To him, a feast was sharing a standard meal with someone else. He was always alone.
Heh heh… His warm laugh came through the phone.
A-jeong leaned in close, curious about the man’s voice.
—How’s work?
Realizing it was her dad, A-jeong took the phone and tapped the speaker button.
“Great, of course.” —You remember your mom’s memorial is coming up, right? Will you come? “…If I can. Work’s been hectic.”
Mom. A woman frozen in Se-hee’s memory at age ten. All she could recall was her beautiful face—but even that didn’t smile. Now, even that memory had faded. Strangely enough, the parent she wanted to forget was the one she remembered most vividly.
—Come if you can. I just want to see your face. “I’ll try. Lots of work though. How’s your work, Dad?” —Great. You know your dad’s got skills. “Of course. I know you’re the best!”
Her dad, Eun Geon-yeong, was an architect—head of a small architecture firm. She’d heard he used to work for a big company up until 17 years ago. She’d asked before, but he’d avoided the topic. So she stopped asking.
—That chrysanthemum you planted? It bloomed beautifully in the yard. “I knew it would. That spot was perfect.”
Their home had a tiny, scruffy yard with just a single big tree. But after Se-hee came, her dad had renovated the old house himself and landscaped the yard too—for his wife and stepdaughter.
What used to look like a yard for drying red peppers slowly began to resemble something closer to a real garden. Eventually, to Se-hee, it felt like Versailles.
She still remembered it clearly—the vivid red and yellow flowers, green trees, sparkling pebbles, and the tiny swing made just for her. It was beautiful.
But the time they spent together as three was far too short—not even two full seasons.
—If you come, I’ll cook up a chicken stew with native breed.
At the mention of chicken, A-jeong leaned in.
“Daddy~ You’ll make it for me too if I come, right?” —Of course! I’ll load it up with ginseng for you, A-jeong. “Hohoho~ Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll send her down safely.”
Where she got all that cuteness, Se-hee didn’t know. She couldn’t do that stuff.
She’d grown up with her dad, and most of her time had been around men at work sites. Her dad was caring, but not as meticulous as a mom might be.
So as a girl, she’d had to grow up alone—in every sense. Even in sadness.
“Okay, Dad. I’m hanging up.” —Alright, sweetheart.
After she ended the call, A-jeong brought up the chicken stew again while munching on pasta, and the topic shifted.
“Are you skipping the high school reunion again?” “Yeah.” “Too bad. It’d be fun to go together.” “Too busy.” “Still…”
Se-hee didn’t respond.
Because of her dad’s work, they’d moved around a lot. As soon as she made friends, rumors would spread or she’d have to transfer again.
When she was honest about her past, the gossip would worsen, and she’d get bullied. The cycle repeated no matter the school. The older she got, the crueler the teasing became—and all of it became deep wounds.
Eventually, “friend” became a word she had to be wary of—except for A-jeong.
‘Hey, why’s your last name different from your dad’s? My mom said your dad’s last name is Eun. But you’re Lee.’ ‘……’ ‘So you don’t even have a mom, huh?’ ‘…No. I have a dad. He’s my one and only dad.’ ‘Liar. Then why’s your last name different? Liar!’
Her biological father…
All he ever did was drink and sleep. When he was awake, he beat her mother.
Her mother couldn’t take it anymore and fled with Se-hee to her grandmother’s house while the man was off cheating. But he stormed in, demanding alimony instead of paying child support, and trashed the place.
The next day, after wrecking their only tin table, her mother sent her to an orphanage, saying she’d be back soon—and disappeared.
She waited every day.
Her mom finally returned after meeting the man who became Se-hee’s new dad. It was late, but still okay—because she smiled.
Her mother wanted to start a new family. But legally, she was still married. Her father refused to divorce her. She filed for divorce, but before the verdict, she passed away. Still legally his wife.
Her brief happiness ended in a matter of months.
So Se-hee couldn’t change her last name. She needed her legal guardian’s consent—and that monster never gave it. Even while living with her new dad, she had to keep the old name until adulthood. The first thing she did after becoming an adult was change her name and surname.
“All done.”
Se-hee went to her room and turned on her laptop. An email had arrived—from a Canadian grad school. She’d been accepted.
Hoo.
She let out a long sigh—then her phone rang.
“Yes, Director.” —Team Lead Eun, sorry to call so late. Can you talk? “Yes, I can. Are you still at the office?” —Yep. I wanted to tell you: Ilryu Construction’s competitive presentation got moved to Monday. “Really? That’s huge!”
She closed the grad school email.
—Right? They contacted us late, must be urgent. The competing firms are in a frenzy. I meant to call earlier but got caught up prepping everything. “So this means I’m coming in tomorrow, right?” —Bingo! We’re going with the draft design you created.
To be continued…
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