TTD Chapter 14

“Why did you take my sketchbook?”

The first time Heeju saw Iseok that day was at dawn, just before sunrise.

True to her adaptable nature, she had fallen asleep early the night before, as if she had never spent hours tossing and turning. She woke in the dim pre-dawn light, and since she was already up, she decided to warm up a glass of milk in the kitchen.

That was when she ran into him.

Dressed in a black robe, his damp hair suggested he had just stepped out of the shower.

“Oh… When did you get home?”

“Around one.”

“…Did you work out?”

“The gym is in the basement, so it shouldn’t have been too loud. Right?”

“That’s not what I was asking… It’s almost time for you to leave again.”

He had barely come home a few hours ago, yet he had already finished a workout. And he looked impeccable—so much so that Heeju briefly wondered if this was how people were supposed to function.

But that couldn’t be right.

Even someone who sleeps very little still needs a minimum amount of rest each day.

His lifestyle was less about diligence and more about self-destruction, a thought she barely managed to swallow back.

And then, without hesitation, he brought her cup to his lips.

“Milk, huh.”

He pulled away just as quickly, as if confirming that warm milk wasn’t to his taste.

“You should have tea instead. I’m not sure what kinds we have, since I’m still getting used to where everything is, but if you—”

“Why’d you pick up something I threw away? It wouldn’t even sell for much.”

His tone was light, teasing, as he raised an eyebrow.

“…You’re pretty good at drawing.”

“Is that so?”

Heeju’s gaze turned contemplative. After a brief pause, she told him to wait and disappeared into her room.

By the time she returned with the sketchbook, he was already gone.

Instead of going upstairs to his room, she sat quietly on the sofa, waiting for him to come back.

It didn’t take long.

Iseok came down the stairs, tightening his tie—dressed for work, as always.

Heeju watched him in silence.

If you want the crown, you have to bear its weight.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Without a word, she followed him out into the garden.

He pulled out a cigarette, sliding it between his fingers, then turned back to glance at her trailing behind him.

“…What?”

“You just remind me of a dog I know.”

“A dog?”

She blinked, realizing what he meant, and frowned.

“Have you ever owned one?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“When I was a kid.”

She fell silent, watching as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

The thick smoke curling into the air looked suffocating enough to make her grimace, but the man inhaling it remained utterly unfazed.

“Did you cry last night?”

“What…?”

“You were sobbing, calling for your dad.”

When she woke up, the stubborn dryness clinging to the rims of her eyes—was it just residue, or the remnants of dried tears?

Had she cried hard enough to leave marks?

If she had, then maybe her father had appeared in her dreams.

It wouldn’t be unusual.

Her father often visited her in dreams, especially when she was sick.

“What’s so great about smoking like that?”

Embarrassed that he might have heard her crying for her father like a child, Heeju quickly changed the subject.

“If you overdraw on your health now, you’ll regret it when you’re older. Imagine working yourself to death and never even getting to spend the money you earned—that’d be such a waste…”

She trailed off, mumbling.

Iseok, standing behind a veil of cigarette smoke, smiled as he looked at her.

“Enough circling around the topic. Let’s hear it—why exactly are you here, sending your husband off like this?”

It seemed he would be leaving soon.

Realizing that he had only paused for a smoke out of consideration, Heeju hesitated before carefully speaking.

“This… this is me, right?”

If he was surprised by her question, he didn’t show it.

“It seemed too good to be tossed away as just a doodle… so I kept one, just in case. But if it bothers you—”

Before she could finish, Iseok turned toward her fully and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You can just look and see for yourself.”

His gaze slowly traced her face, inch by inch, under the morning light.

“Like this.”

The lopsided smile tugging at his lips felt almost like a disguise.

Flustered, Heeju averted her gaze.

She stared at the garden’s green grass for no reason, taking a slow, deep breath.

Then, glancing down at the sketchbook in her hands, she asked, “Can I keep this?”

She didn’t know why she was so desperate to have it.

Didn’t know why she had picked it up as if hypnotized.

The whole thing was strange.

The thought of someone sketching a single face, hundreds—no, thousands of times, was both unsettling and… romantic.

…Romantic?

The word startled her.

Had she been spending so much time with this strange man that she was starting to think like him?

“If you don’t want it, we can just throw it away together.”

But it wasn’t the kind of drawing one could discard so easily.

There wasn’t a single careless stroke.

Yet here it was, stacked in bundles, waiting to be thrown out.

Why?

Why go through the trouble of drawing them, only to heartlessly toss them aside?

Somehow, she had the feeling that once they were all gone, he would never draw another portrait again.

And she had no idea why that thought made her feel regretful.

But the feeling urged her forward.

Someone should keep at least one, shouldn’t they?

If the artist himself wanted to get rid of them, then at the very least—the subject of the portrait should—

“Why don’t you just ask me to draw you one?”

With a flick of his fingers, he crushed his cigarette underfoot, responding with an amused chuckle.

“…What?”

“If you’re willing to help, I do have something I’d like to draw.”

Iseok’s voice dragged at the end, his gaze sweeping lazily over her figure.

“A nude.”

It was Heeju’s turn to freeze in shock.

Meanwhile, the man who had casually dropped such a bombshell remained as calm as a drifting cloud.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. And once I have, I just can’t help but want to put it on paper.”

A smirk played at his lips.

“Look at you. Those eyes again—you’re amused.”

She knew he had no filter, but she still had no idea how to respond to this.

She was about to react when, suddenly, he reached out, pulling her close.

His lips pressed lightly against her forehead, scattering the stray hairs there.

“Anyway, thanks for seeing me off.”

The soft winter breeze carried his scent as he stepped past the front gate.

Was that a conversation, or had she just been completely derailed?

Heeju raised a hand to her forehead, watching in a daze as his sedan disappeared down the road.

And that was when she realized how bizarre her life had become.

I’m living side by side with a man whose every move is utterly unpredictable.

Her gaze wavered, as did her heart.

Her emotions were no longer following the plan.

Her center—little by little—was shifting.

***

Ryu Jitaek had chosen to spend his final years not in Seoul, but in Jeongseon—a place that held a special meaning for him.

He thought of his late wife.

She had been his childhood friend.

His hometown companion, his lover, and his life partner.

The daughter of a prominent local family and a passionate young man had come together and built a life with all their might.

His wife used to say, “Once we’ve tended to our fields well, let’s return to Jeongseon to spend the last of our days where we first began.”

But that quiet, heartfelt promise was never fulfilled.

She had left before him, and he alone remained in this aging body.

Holding onto her hand, he had stubbornly insisted, “Once you recover, we’ll go down together.” That had become his deepest regret.

They say the person you loved most comes to greet you at the moment of death.

If he could see her again, even in the afterlife…

Jitaek wondered what he should say first if he met her again.

He pondered, but all that came to mind were apologies—each with a different reason.

Still, he wanted to stroke her face once more.

Just once more…

“Father, the wind is cold. They’ll be here soon enough.”

His aged eyes, clouded with longing, finally shifted away from the window overlooking the path below.

A warm blanket was draped over his shoulders.

Even as he shook his head to reassure his son, Jonghyuk, that he was fine, Jitaek kept glancing toward the road.

Seungwook, his son who had passed first, had resembled his wife the most.

Then came his grandson, Iseok.

Within Iseok, his wife, his son, and even his beloved daughter-in-law all coexisted.

Hearing that the grandson he missed so dearly was on his way here with his wife, Jitaek had been unable to take his eyes off the door all day.

For once, the body that had felt unbearably heavy moved as if it were weightless.

“If you’re worried, shall I try calling them?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I must have been making too much of a fuss.

E-mi-ya.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Bring me a glass of water.”

Patting Jonghyuk’s hand resting on his shoulder, Jitaek reluctantly turned away.

“Taegyeol should be here soon as well.”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a while… three years now. That boy. Always so busy with something or other.

Ah, and this time, Assemblyman Jo’s daughter, Yerin, will be coming along to formally greet us as well.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s about time they got married, don’t you think?

What do you think, Father? From what I see, our families have a deep connection, and the Jo family has a long-standing history. I believe it’s a good match, but you…”

Jonghyuk trailed off.

The old man’s gaze had drifted away, lost in thought.

“When did Iseok say he was leaving?”

The faint smile that had remained on Jonghyuk’s lips stiffened.

His expression darkened.