“So.”
My friend, whom I hadn’t seen in ages, set his glass down as if dumbfounded.
“Getting back together, huh?”
“…That’s how it turned out.”
Baek Sang-hyeok. The reporter who’d tipped me off that Yoo Sia was Chairman Yoo’s youngest granddaughter. He’s also my ride-or-die buddy. Over drinks, I filled him in on everything.
“If you run this as an article, I’m dead.”
“Relax, I won’t. Have I ever published anything you asked me not to?”
“Never…”
“Exactly. So trust me.”
“But this is a special case…”
“Still not running it. Better to wait for an insider tip from HR Group and then sneak out the real scoop—that’ll get way more clicks than a chaebol granddaughter’s love life.”
He had a point. News about the inner workings of a chaebol would surely out-click any blind item about a billionaire’s granddaughter.
“Anyway,” Baek poured me another drink, “why’d you turn down their money?”
“I told you—I was terrified.”
“Just scared of the money?”
“Yeah…”
“You were scared of breaking up too?”
I nodded.
He sighed in exasperation. “Come to think of it, you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
“When have I?”
“Remember in college? You thought you had a thing with that junior, so they set up a dare on your MT trip to test your nerve, and you bailed on everyone and came home alone. What a loser.”
“Dude, why bring that up?” I felt my cheeks burn.
“But you did end up dating her.”
“That’s what’s weird.”
He studied my face. “You know, you’re odd when it comes to relationships.”
“How?”
“It always feels like the roles swap. You meet women who take charge.”
“Is that so?”
Now that I thought about it, it was true. As an ex-athlete, I’m awkward at dating; my partners have always been the assertive type.
‘Yoo Sia’s like that too,’ I realized. If she hadn’t pushed things forward, this would never have happened.
“Anyway, what about work? You said you quit.”
“I don’t know.” I downed my soju. “I decided to withdraw my resignation.”
“Of course. You’re not broken up—you’re still together.”
“The question is what comes next.”
Sia kept telling me to go back to baseball or chase my dreams, but…
“How am I supposed to play again at this age?”
“Right.”
At thirty-one, it’s too late to restart a baseball career. Getting back to pro level would take at least two or three years, and then I’d be thirty-three or thirty-four. Even if players retire late, you can’t debut in your mid-thirties.
“Besides, my shoulder’s never coming back.”
Unless some magic status screen shows up or I time-slip like in dramas, reality isn’t so forgiving.
“Above all, I don’t want to be an athlete again.” Being a pro is brutal: it’s not just the games but all the endless training. Even if they offered me a spot on the first team tomorrow, I’d turn it down.
“And our relationship is in limbo.” If we were married, fine—but we’re just dating. If we break up, I’m the only one left looking foolish.
“Sounds complicated. So you needed to drink?”
“Exactly…” I sighed. “I just wanted a normal, working-class life…”
Save up, win a housing lottery, raise a happy family of four. “That was my dream…”
Now look where I am.
Still, I can’t give up on Sia. I’ve never met anyone as perfect a match, and who knows if I ever will again.
“So what do you think?” he pressed.
“I…” I thought long and hard. “I’m gutless.”
“…?”
“I want to live like a reed. Drift where the current takes me. Keep this quiet work life and just live.”
“Assistant Manager Son, have you handled the IAT Food ad contract yet?”
“It’s drafted; ready to send. Shall I?”
“Good. Hold off—Legal just asked us to pause.”
“Is there an issue?”
“They spotted something in the contract term. It’s minor; they’ll tweak it.”
“Understood. I’ll await their feedback.”
“Alright.”
As always, the office buzzed nonstop. When we finally wrapped up our tasks…
“Ugh—anyone up for a break?” Department Head Ma stretched and stood. “Coffee’s on me.”
“Yes, please!”
“Thanks!”
Everyone applauded eagerly.
“I’ll take orders,” Sia said, grabbing a Post-it and standing. “Manager Ma wants hazelnut. Deputy Manager Ji, iced latte, right? And Manager Oh?”
Back from the café, Sia passed out drinks. “Assistant Manager Son, you wanted an Americano, yes?”
“Yeah.”
As she set it down, she brushed my arm with the back of her hand. I flinched, but couldn’t deny the thrill.
I took my iced Americano and—
‘…whoa.’
I hid it under my arm. Because on the cup holder was stamped—
‘Assistant Manager Son♥’
I looked at her in surprise. She smiled warmly and sat.
Same hectic office—yet just having my girlfriend here made my chest feel soft.
‘Don’t know what the future holds, but right now…maybe this happiness is enough.’
Meanwhile, three men loitered near Planning Team 2, peeking around the corner.
It was Executive Director Yoo Ho-min, Department Chief Yoo Tae-min, and Vice President Yoo Gwang-min.
“Did you see that? She touched his arm!”
“Bro, I saw it too.”
“Damn bastard making moves in the sacred company…”
“They haven’t gone that far with Sia, right?”
“They’ve only been together a short time…”
They fumed.
“That Son Jin-seong—he’s the ex-baseball guy, right?”
“Yeah.”
They’d already dug up his history. “Played until freshman year, injured, switched to academics, then got in on grades.”
“Anything on him when he joined HR? Corruption, dirt?”
“Checked with Personnel—nothing. He ranked second in the public exam.”
“…What good is being book-smart?”
But that was wishful thinking. Planning Team 2 was the best of the four, and Son was its ace. They couldn’t fault his performance.
“Infuriating bastard!” they yelled in frustration.
“If there’s no blemish, should we just invent one?”
“Might be best…”
Before they could decide, Yoo Tae-min’s phone dinged:
[Yoo Sia: What are you three doing? Are you insane?]
“Guys, Sia’s onto us.”
“What do we do? Explain!”
“Uh, okay!”
[Yoo Tae-min: What?]
[Yoo Tae-min: Oh, this is in front of Planning Team 2.]
[Yoo Tae-min: We were just chatting after the meeting, stopped here by chance.]
[Yoo Sia: How long are you going to stand there?]
[Yoo Tae-min: We were about to move on.]
[Yoo Sia: You’ve been here ten minutes.]
[Yoo Sia: Try anything shady and I swear…]
“Disperse! Scatter!” they shouted, vanishing down the hall.
In the luxury Hannam-dong residence, after Yoo Sia and her mother left for work, the housekeepers took over. Outsiders might sneer, but they enjoyed top-tier conditions—security roles, conglomerate-level benefits, and hefty pay. They were the special forces of domestic staff.
They catered to every family need to stay in the household long-term—health, meals, environment.
“Miss Sia ate breakfast today?”
“Yes. She usually barely touches half a bowl, but lately she’s finishing the whole thing.”
“Thank goodness. After that incident, I thought something serious was wrong.”
“Me too. Who would think a sweet young lady would turn the house upside down for love?”
“Youth,” one chuckled. “Love does that.”
They laughed as they peeled garlic—fastest to hear any news but sworn to secrecy.
“Anyway, I’m relieved. She looked so drawn, but she seems better now.”
“She does, but she’s not fully recovered.”
“Why?”
“She’s been asking for dishes she usually wouldn’t.”
“Right. I made galbijjim yesterday.”
“But after breakfast this morning, she suddenly felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom.”
“Really? Yesterday, too—I thought she might be sick and considered giving her medicine, but nothing came up, so I was uneasy.”
“She vomited yesterday?”
“Today, too?”
“Wait.”
Their eyes met.
“She vomited…?”
She’d burned with love and even thrown up.
“Could it be…?” They covered their mouths.