It wasn’t meant to be romantic. I just wanted to leave something memorable for him, the same way Kwon Yido had done for me. I would be waiting for him in this wide house, so I hoped he might think of me, too.

“......”

But he soon blinked slowly, face gone blank. With his eyes lowered, he stared quietly at the perfume bottle in his hand and parted his lips.

“That’s... a big problem.”

A big problem? I didn’t ask. The words had flowed out like breath, striking directly into my ears.

“Then I won’t be able to work.”

“......”

Sometimes, I think he’s just absurdly shy. To say something like that with a face that looks like he’s never told a joke in his life. Whether he sensed my thoughts or not, he raised one corner of his mouth and said:

“I’ll be back soon.”

After Kwon Yido left, the house felt three times emptier than usual. Every space seemed needlessly wide, and the morning passed so slowly it felt tedious. As always, I picked up a book and headed to the greenhouse, but it only felt more hollow because even Lee Taeseong, my usual companion, stood there zoning out.

“...My salary went up.”

Like someone possessed, Lee Taeseong uttered just that one line. I was about to ask why, but then I remembered the reason and shut my mouth. No need to say out loud that it was in exchange for benefits.

As an appetizer before lunch, they served chilled sea urchin and squid. It was a bit tangy, but not bad for whetting the appetite. The flat-grilled shrimp pancake and lightly seasoned beef tartare—all of it matched my tastes exactly.

As soon as I finished eating, I went back to my room and passed the time aimlessly. I glanced at the car key on the table and thought I should return it when Kwon Yido came back. Unless I brought it up first, he would never mention it.

“One week, huh...”

Sitting quietly on the sofa, I stared into space. A week without him. Long if long, short if short. Even the shadow-like staff wouldn’t bother me during this free period.

“Just bring me one document.”

There was clearly something I had to do. A command without any real plan, but I had no choice in the matter. It wasn’t about whether I’d do it or not—only how.

It wasn’t guilt I felt. Pathetically enough, my feelings for Kwon Yido weren’t that deep yet. Even if we had shared desperate kisses and whispery words. And to be clear, Kwon Yido probably didn’t feel that strongly about me either.

“...Why did you have to be gone now, of all times.”

If there’s a god of timing, he must have a cruel sense of humor. Or maybe he just enjoys tormenting me.

I rose slowly from the sofa and tiptoed to the door. I was the only one in this room, yet I felt like I had to be cautious from here on out. Because I was heading to the second-floor study—the place he had told me never to enter.

If someone asked why, I’d just say it was instinct. The place he works, the one place he had specifically warned me about. Important documents are usually stored in such locations. Of course, I hoped the meticulous Kwon Yido wouldn’t leave anything behind in a house with a stranger of a fiancé.

“......”

I passed silently through the hallway, not sensing a single soul, until I reached the study at the far end. My heart pounded faster than I had imagined. The carpet muffled my footsteps, but it felt like my heartbeat alone could give me away.

When I reached the study, I stared at the familiar wooden door and rubbed my cold fingertips. I couldn’t tell whether the uneasy feeling in my gut came from what I was about to do—or something else.

Cautiously, I placed my hand on the doorknob. My hand was cold from tension, so even the usually chilly metal felt lukewarm now. I was sweating so much that I nearly slipped off the handle.

I swallowed dryly and tightened my grip on the knob. Slowly, very slowly, I turned it downward. And just as I was about to open the door with a bit of resolve—

“......”

Click. The handle stopped midway. It wouldn’t turn further, let alone open. Like something was locking it in place.

I let out a breath I’d been holding and chuckled weakly.

The study was already locked.

***

There are definitely things in this world that can’t be accomplished through effort alone. No matter how desperately you want something, if the circumstances don’t support it, it’s meaningless. There are countless examples, so I don’t need to explain further.

So when I found the study locked, my first emotion was relief. Then futility. And lastly—disappointment. I didn’t even know what I was disappointed about, but it wasn’t because I couldn’t get the document.

I had tried, but I hadn’t found anything.

I didn’t know where it was.

Better to be a foolish, incompetent son than offer a stolen excuse. Father probably already knew there wasn’t much I could do. If Kwon Yido didn’t trust me, what the hell was I supposed to do?

—Were you asleep?

The next morning, Kwon Yido called. It was still early, which meant it was probably around 6 p.m. in the U.S. I had taken two sleeping pills and still hadn’t slept, just tossed and turned all night.

“No... I was awake.”

Ah. I should’ve cleared my throat before answering. I didn’t realize how embarrassing my rough voice would sound.

“Did you arrive safely?”

—I got here fine... but I can’t tell if you’re awake or just never slept.

“......”

I froze mid-motion, trying to sit up in bed. He’s always overly perceptive—he picks up on things he doesn’t even need to know. While I pressed my throbbing temples, his calm voice continued.

—Are your insomnia symptoms still bad?

“No, last night was just...”

I was about to say it was just a bad night. That I usually sleep fine. But then I realized something odd and stopped. I had never mentioned my insomnia here, and he’d never seen my sleeping pills. So how did he know?

“...I didn’t sleep well because you weren’t here.”

Instead of questioning it, I chose to deflect gently. It wasn’t the right time to dig into it. He seemed fine with my answer, because his voice softened.

—You can sleep in my room if you want. Whatever makes you comfortable.

“Yeah, well...”

I couldn’t say no—not even as a polite lie. Because as soon as he said it, I genuinely felt tempted.

“Anyway, why did you call?”

I got up and pulled back the curtains. The garden in the bluish dawn looked oddly magical. Sitting on the window frame, I opened the window, and the cool morning air seeped in.

—It’s nothing much. I left something behind, so my secretary will stop by this afternoon. If it’s okay, could you pass it to him?

“If it’s a document...”

Speak of the devil... My spine stiffened. He sounded as normal as ever with his precise enunciation, but I sat up straight instantly.

—There should be a laptop on the table in my room. Just pull out the USB plugged into it and give that to him.

“The USB?”

Strange, for someone so meticulous, to forget something. Especially when traveling overseas for over ten hours. If he’s sending a secretary, does that mean he traveled alone?

—Yes, the USB. If it’s okay, could you check now?

I closed the window again. My stomach felt unsettled, and my heartbeat erratic. When I didn’t respond, he added calmly:

—Don’t hang up.

“...I didn’t.”

I forced my voice to sound neutral. He wasn’t asking because he knew anything, so there was no reason to be this tense. Obviously, the file he was talking about wasn’t the one I was after.

Phone still to my ear, I walked through the hall toward his room. No sound came from the other end, and I was so nervous I even worried he’d hear my breathing. When I reached the door, I habitually raised my hand to knock—then sheepishly lowered it.

—Did you eat breakfast?

Click. As the door opened, he casually asked. I took in the rush of pheromones and answered slowly. “Not yet. What about you?” His soft voice responded.

—I’ll be eating soon.

“Don’t skip meals, okay?”

What did he say earlier... Something about sleeping in his room, wasn’t it? Maybe it’d be better to shamelessly take him up on that than keep popping useless sleeping pills. His pheromones alone made my eyelids droop.

—Did you find it?

“Yes, it’s the black USB, right?”

A Seonho-branded laptop sat on the table. The USB beside it must’ve been the one. I pulled it out and casually glanced at the pile of papers next to it.

“I’ll give it to your secretary la—”

Click. My lips snapped shut. I was about to say I’d give it to him later. But my throat clenched up, and a weight pressed down on my chest like a stone. My solar plexus felt crushed.

—Sorry to bother you so early...

I couldn’t hear what he said after that. My ears rang faintly with tinnitus. He thanked me and hung up. I took a deep breath, holding the now-silent phone.

***

I don’t know how much time passed. I fled his room in a daze and shut myself in again. If the staff hadn’t called me for breakfast, I might’ve stayed there until lunch.

Even after breakfast, my stomach churned. I didn’t feel like going to the greenhouse. Couldn’t focus on any of my books. I just sat in the room, letting time trickle by, endlessly.

Kwon Yido’s secretary came only after I’d finished lunch. I had forced down food, and it felt like it was stuck in my throat. I kept quiet about it, not wanting it to reach Kwon Yido. I was secretly groaning in my room.

“I’m here on behalf of the Executive Director.”

The secretary looked to be in his thirties. He wore thin glasses and reminded me faintly of Mr. Kim. When I handed him the USB, he looked surprised and asked:

“...Are you feeling unwell?”

For a moment, I panicked and forced a smile. I’d tried to act normal, but maybe I looked worse than I thought.

“No, I just didn’t sleep well. I’m fine.”

When I smiled naturally, the secretary nodded and bowed politely before leaving. Straight to the point. The kind of man who lived that phrase.

“...Haah.”

I pressed my hand against my stomach and went upstairs. I still didn’t feel like going outside, and the heaviness only got worse. If I could just sleep. But the damned insomnia still tormented me.

The room at the far end of the second floor. Inconvenient to reach, but perfect for a private space.

Click. I closed the door behind me. I hadn’t been here long, but already it felt like “my room.” I’d never felt this cozy—not in my childhood bedroom, not in the officetel I’d lived in since twenty.

Even so, the nausea wouldn’t go away. Probably because Kwon Yido’s words kept replaying in my head.

“I’ll bring you a gift when I return.”

I walked toward the small table. A soft white sofa sat to the right, separate from the bed. Similar to Kwon Yido’s room, but not quite. I sat in the one-seater and stared at the table.

“What do you want?”

“......”

If I told him what I really wanted, how would he respond? After helping me through a heat cycle and even kissing me, how much more could he give?

“I can give you more than you think, Jung Sejin.”

Carefully, I picked up the documents on the table. Pages filled with English and programming terms I couldn’t understand. Diagrams and technical explanations—though I didn’t know the words, I could guess their meaning.

“...There’s no way I could give this to Father.”

It was what he wanted. A report tied to Seonho Electronics’ upcoming smartphone—specifically, information about the security system. Something he expected Kwon Yido to hand over.

I wasn’t an expert, so I didn’t know the document’s full value. But I knew taking it would count as a gesture. And I could picture Father’s face, looking at me with pride for once.

“Now that’s my son.”

“......”

What was I thinking, taking this out of Kwon Yido’s room? My body moved before my brain did. I justified it with the fact he wouldn’t be home for days. My chest throbbed painfully, but I pretended not to notice and closed my eyes.

It was theft. If Kwon Yido found out, he could kick me out of this house on the spot. He could annul the engagement, demand damages. Once he returned, I was bound to get caught.

“It’s a long shot anyway. Might as well just say something.”

My hand trembled as I held the file. Afraid it would wrinkle, I carefully set it back on the table. The faint crease near the Seonho Group logo in the corner caught my eye.

Better to return it before it’s too late. Maybe the document meant nothing to Father. No point stirring up trouble for nothing. Better to walk away empty-handed.

“Useless bastard...”

My stomach twisted with pain. The look in his eyes never changed, even after all these years. It had branded my skin like a scar. The floor felt like it surged up and swallowed me whole, strangling my throat.

“He’s just going to throw you away.”

I didn’t want to be abandoned. Whether by Father—or by Kwon Yido. I didn’t want to feel that same cliff-edge desperation again, like when I wandered barefoot in the snow.

“You can only trust family.”

But the family I knew had never looked like this. The shelter I’d always longed for was turning out to be harder to grasp than I’d thought.

“......”

I felt like vomiting. Maybe it was the forced meal. If I let myself relax, the nausea surged up. Maybe if I purged once, I’d feel better. But my body refused to move.

“Jung Sejin.”

Would’ve been better if he hadn’t left anything behind. Like the locked study—he should’ve hidden it somewhere I’d never find it.

I knew I was directing my blame in the wrong direction. But I couldn’t think straight. My thoughts spiraled in loops, far too emotional even by my standards.

I shouldn’t eat dinner. If I ate anything now, it’d wreck my insides for real. If Kwon Yido called, I’d just say I went to bed early.

I placed the stolen file back on the table, chewed down a few sleeping pills, and crawled into bed. I pulled the blanket over my head and curled up—like I used to when I was little. Thankfully, since I’d been up all night, sleep came sooner than usual.

That night, I had the most horrible nightmare in a long time.

Kwon Yido, cold-faced, slapped me across the cheek with the same eyes as my father.