Back at the office, Ju Heon changed clothes and sank into his chair, unable to hide his exhaustion. He picked up a file and tried to get to work, but none of the words on the pages registered. Realizing he couldn’t concentrate, he leaned back and closed his eyes, intending to rest for a moment.
But sleep refused to come.
Instead, his irritation only continued to build. As the minutes passed, the crease between his brows grew deeper.
“Stress…? That’s unbelievable.”
Even with his eyes closed, fragments of thought kept circling through his mind until he finally opened them again. Yet even then, Eun Woo’s soft, almost inaudible voice lingered in his ears.
Stress.
Of course, Ju Heon wasn’t an idiot. He knew perfectly well that not everyone liked the way he spoke.
His demanding nature, his coldness, the way he relentlessly pressed people until he got the answer he wanted, the impatient look he gave them until they delivered a perfect result…
He was well aware that he possessed more than enough qualities to make other people uncomfortable. He was perfectly capable of assessing himself objectively.
And yet, no one had ever dared to tell him outright that his behavior made them feel stressed.
More accurately, perhaps he’d never even considered that it might.
Because he simply didn’t care.
Ju Heon had never paid much attention to how other people felt about his words or actions. As far as he was concerned, their feelings were their problem, not his. There was no reason for him to worry about them or accommodate them.
Ju Heon always drove his projects to success. Whether it was client satisfaction or the level of completion, the results were invariably flawless. As a result, no one dared question or challenge his decisions.
He naturally regarded whatever discomfort arose along the way as an unavoidable part of achieving success.
Work-related stress was simply one of the necessary steps toward perfection. Both Ju Heon, who made the demands, and the employees who carried them out had to endure it. That was simply part of the job.
Because he’d always considered it a given, he’d never bothered to pay attention to the stress it caused.
By his logic, if something was inevitable, then it shouldn’t be considered pressure in the first place.
Which was why this was the first time in his life someone had looked him in the eye and said that his behavior was stressing them out.
And, ridiculously enough, it had all started over a hamburger.
“It’s not like I’m doing this for any other reason. I’m only concerned about his health, and he calls that stressful? He’s so young, yet he argues about everything… What else did he say?”
Ju Heon’s brow furrowed deeper as he tried to reconstruct his conversation with Eun Woo.
“Isn’t it only natural for you to make a decision and simply inform me of it?”
Those were the words Eun Woo had uttered while squeezing his lips together and closing his eyes as though he’d been hurt.
….“I know you’re doing it because you’re worried about the baby. But you make unilateral decisions and announcements so often… I mean, even later on, after the baby is born. When you’re raising a child, wouldn’t it be better for their mental health to grow up in a natural environment where they can make their own judgments, rather than one where everything is controlled and they’re constantly being told what’s good and what’s bad?”
——“…Baek Eun Woo. We’re talking about a hamburger. You’ve taken this way too far. I don’t know where you read all that, but when it comes to raising my child, I’ll decide what’s best. Please know your place.”
…..“I only remembered it because I read it in a book. I’m sorry if it upset you. But right now, the baby is inside me, so I’m the one who needs to eat what I want. I should be allowed to prioritize the food I actually want to eat. I won’t eat anything unhealthy, so you don’t have to worry.”
Ju Heon remembered the way he’d simply stared at Eun Woo after that, momentarily stunned as the younger man walked away.
His eyes had still been filled with uncertainty and fear, so how had he managed to speak so clearly?
If he was going to say everything he was thinking, then he shouldn’t have looked like that.
It almost felt like he was deliberately provoking Ju Heon.
“…Why have I been wasting this much time thinking about something so trivial?”
Ju Heon glanced at the clock and realized he’d been lost in his thoughts for quite some time.
At the company—especially in this office—he had never thought about anything unrelated to work.
Apparently, Eun Woo’s comment about being stressed had affected him far more than he’d expected.
Just as he was about to return to work, there was a knock at the door.
“Director, you have a meeting with the Chairman and the other executives in thirty minutes.”
“All right. Make sure all the materials are prepared.”
It was an ordinary scheduling update, no different from any other day. Ju Heon listened with an impassive expression, but just as his secretary was about to leave, something occurred to him.
“By the way, have you ever heard of a hospital called Gaon Medical? The Gaon Medical Center in Gangnam.”
Ju Heon still remembered the name printed on the business card the man who had been with Eun Woo had handed over.
Judging by the fact that he’d never heard of the hospital, it probably wasn’t particularly well known.
“I’m sorry, Director. I’ve never heard of it. There are so many hospitals around Gangnam Station.”
“That’s true. There are hospitals in practically every building. Unless there’s something particularly notable about one, it’s normal not to know it.”
“Is there something you’d like to know about the hospital?”
Although she knew nothing about the hospital herself, the secretary immediately understood why Ju Heon had brought it up.
“Investigate it. Find out who the director is, how many doctors and staff they have, where the director and doctors are from, and where they graduated. There should be someone there named Kang Gyu Min. I want a detailed background check on him. As quickly as possible.”
“Yes, Director. Understood.”
As his secretary immediately acknowledged the order, Ju Heon thought again of Kang Gyu Min—the man who had been standing beside Eun Woo.
If Gyu Min hadn’t been with Eun Woo, Ju Heon wouldn’t have spared him a second glance.
But Eun Woo had looked deeply uncomfortable while standing beside him. Ju Heon had noticed it from several steps away. Surely the man standing right next to him couldn’t have failed to notice.
There was arrogance hidden beneath that gentle smile and mild voice.
No wonder Eun Woo had seemed uncomfortable. Gyu Min must have been looking down on him from some imagined position of superiority all along.
Ju Heon remembered the conversation he’d overheard between Eun Woo and the owner of the café—the family whose home Eun Woo had once depended on when he was in a difficult situation.
Whatever their relationship had been, it was clearly complicated.
That same family name kept coming up, and for some reason, it grated on Ju Heon’s nerves.
Regardless of what their relationship had been, the fact that the person carrying his child was being treated that way pricked at his pride in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
Putting his irritation aside, there was another matter that concerned him.
If Baek Eun Woo continued to interact with those people and became emotionally unsettled, his health would inevitably suffer.
Baek Eun Woo needed to remain healthy. He couldn’t afford to be troubled by anything.
“…Does our hospital regularly host gatherings for doctors?”
“I don’t know the hospital’s schedule in detail, but as far as I’m aware, most major academic conferences and professional training programs are held at Chaseong Hospital.”
Even though he knew his secretary couldn’t possibly know every detail about the hospital, Ju Heon had asked anyway. She answered with what she knew.
“I see… I didn’t realize doctors from local hospitals gathered there as well.”
“Regardless of the size of the hospital, those are professional conferences, so quite a large number of practicing physicians attend.”
“I need the schedule for those gatherings.”
“I’ll have to check, but most of them are scheduled through next year. Would you like me to report the exact dates and times?”
Ju Heon considered it for a moment before answering.
“No. Today, put me in contact with whoever is in charge of the hospital. I’ll call them myself.”
Perhaps the gatherings should be moved elsewhere.
The events that had already been scheduled at short notice couldn’t be changed immediately, but at the very least, until Baek Eun Woo gave birth and his health stabilized, it would be better to eliminate all doctor gatherings at Chaseong.
Baek Eun Woo was carrying a child and needed to remain in the best possible condition to ensure a healthy pregnancy and delivery.
If Kang Gyu Min was a source of anxiety for him, Ju Heon would remove that source at its root.
If he was a thorn in Eun Woo’s side, Ju Heon would pull it out for him.
He would make sure that man could never get close to Eun Woo again.
………..
[Have you eaten yet? Are you eating properly? You haven’t been skipping meals, have you?]
As usual, Cha Ju Heon’s message checking on my meals arrived right on schedule.
He always texted at roughly the same time every day, asking what I’d eaten and how my day had gone, as though it were simply another part of his job.
A duty too important to neglect.
What time did I go to bed? When did I wake up? Had I slept well? How was the quality of my sleep?
He asked about everything in meticulous detail.
Naturally, I always answered honestly.
After all, this was the job I’d signed a contract to do.
It wasn’t surveillance. It wasn’t a matter of whether his concern was annoying or not.
It was business.
We had signed a contract, and both sides were obligated to fulfill their responsibilities. My current life was simply an extension of that contract, so I did my best to sleep well and eat more nutritious food.
It was just that sometimes, the way he unilaterally announced what I was supposed to do made me feel a little pressured.
Like our minor argument over the hamburger the other day.
His approach was always the same: make a decision, then announce it.
Everything was determined according to his own standards, and then presented to me as though there were no room for discussion.
Perhaps because he had always been in a position of authority, he considered that behavior perfectly normal.
I found it incredibly frustrating.
Even if our relationship was based on a contract, it still felt like he was crossing a line.
I’d once assumed that he was simply a spoiled heir who had been pampered and protected his entire life.
Now, however, I knew that his controlling behavior was rooted in his obsessive cleanliness and compulsive tendencies.
Ever since meeting Cha Ju Heon, I’d taken the opportunity to read up on his condition so I could avoid doing anything that might upset him.
I’d learned that obsessive cleanliness was often accompanied by compulsive behaviors. People with those tendencies could have extremely rigid standards that they felt compelled to follow.
As a result, their behavior could involve imposing those standards on others, along with excessive nagging and demands.
That kind of strong-willed personality could easily cause friction with the people around them.
But thanks to Cha Ju Heon’s position as the director of a conglomerate, he’d probably never had to deal with much of that friction himself.
I could understand why someone who had always occupied the higher position in every relationship would have difficulty understanding why his behavior bothered other people.
At the same time, though, the thought of having to put up with his personality until I gave birth made the future seem incredibly bleak.
But what could I do?
This was the path I’d chosen.
And thanks to this contract, I had also gained a number of things that made my life considerably easier.
Besides, I couldn’t deny that Cha Ju Heon was taking care of me in his own way.
[I’m coming with you to your part-time performance tonight.]
Like this.
I stared at the message on my phone.
I wondered what it was like for other surrogate mothers.
They probably couldn’t have interactions like this at all. The basic rule of surrogacy was that the surrogate and the intended parents were not supposed to maintain contact.
Meetings were generally prohibited to prevent emotional attachment or psychological complications that might arise from seeing one another.
But my situation was different.
I wasn’t simply carrying a child made from the genes of a couple, or of someone else’s wife.
Under this contract, my genes were being combined directly with Cha Ju Heon’s to create a child who carried his blood.
In that sense, our situation was unique.
Our relationship and circumstances were completely different from those of ordinary surrogacy arrangements, so naturally, things were more complicated.
But there was nothing I could do about that.
It was a little inconvenient, but this was the choice I’d made.
All I could do now was navigate my relationship with Cha Ju Heon as carefully and wisely as possible.