SB Ch 16

A languid sense of exhaustion washed over him, and Chae Beomjoon let out a sigh as he caught his breath. At that moment, Seo Haeyoon, who had been panting with his eyes downcast, slowly lifted his head.

Their trembling eyes met, and a pleasant tension swept over their skin.

“Should we have sex?”

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“Should we have sex?”

They both asked at the same time, and laughter burst out. His heart fluttered as if he were raising a heartworm. He couldn’t stand it. Chae Beomjoon laughed loudly and rested his head on Haeyoon’s shoulder, whom he was holding.

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“You’re heavy. Are we doing it or not?”

Seo Haeyoon grumbled as if he were sulking, his presence felt as soft as cotton candy. His voice swelled Beomjoon’s heart, and at that moment, Chae Beomjoon had a dizzying realization.

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Just like he still remembered the sunset in the garden, the silent air, and the cat’s meowing from the day he almost lost a friend at the age of ten, he felt like he would never forget this moment.

The morning sunlight pouring through the large window and the savory scent of the omelette he made with his own hands.

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The cool autumn breeze dispersing that scent and the heat of their touching bodies.

Seo Haeyoon’s soft laughter and the languid sensation emanating from him.

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All of it combined to create a sense of complete happiness.

It was the first moment of true peace he had experienced since his father’s death. He could never forget it.

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On Saturday, after spending the day with Seo Haeyoon and even giving him a blowjob before leaving, Chae Beomjoon returned home, took a bath, and went to bed early. He had plans to go to church with Soo Seonhwa on Sunday morning.

Waking up early, he exercised until he was out of breath and even used the sauna, making his face shine. He had a reason to do so.

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Next to the main church of Hansa-dong Cathedral, where he attended, there was a place called the Sacrarium. This small shop, accompanied by a sacrarium (a shop selling sacred items), had an exhibition hall displaying historic sacred items purchased with donations from wealthy parishioners.

Around the antique and sturdy glass cases displaying the sacred items, there were tables suitable for conversation. This was the social hub of the church.

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After mass, more than half of the congregation would gather in the Sacrarium to chat. Some would boast about their children, others would strategically leak information, and some would promote themselves to find a suitable match. It was a wild place, but also quite entertaining.

Anyway, Soo Seonhwa’s other children didn’t particularly enjoy going to church. Shin Kyoyeon would rather trust Yoon Heesoo’s blind picks than believe in God, and the eldest, Shin Jeong-gu, avoided church because he would only hear about dieting from Soo Seonhwa’s friends.

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As a result, accompanying Soo Seonhwa to Sunday mass was limited to Chae Beomjoon, Shin Ji-ho, and Soo Seonhwa’s famous daughter, Shin Yu-jin. Of course, since Chae Beomjoon and Shin Ji-ho were busy, most of the attendance fell to Shin Yu-jin, but today was Chae Beomjoon’s turn. Soo Seonhwa’s close friend had been boasting about her son who had returned from America, and the only one who could counter that boasting was Chae Beomjoon.

Although he didn’t have as impressive a resume as that son, Chae Beomjoon had something the other guy could never have: height, good looks, and a kind personality. Unlike that son, who would get annoyed and push away anyone who tried to link arms with him, Chae Beomjoon was the opposite. So, even though Soo Seonhwa rarely called her busy son, she had summoned Beomjoon this time.

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After finishing his workout and grooming, Beomjoon sprayed on the cologne he had been using lately, the same one Seo Haeyoon used: Meteor.

He wore a white t-shirt that slightly revealed his shoulder line and beige slacks that fell just above his ankles. Over this, he wore a modern hanbok-inspired cotton cardigan with a neat, flowing line from the neck down on both sides.

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Instead of slicking his hair back neatly, he half-tied it, letting his hair fall naturally to reveal his left forehead. Chae Beomjoon confirmed that he looked gentle enough to play the role of the kindest son in the world and then put on a rosary ring, which he hadn’t worn since the day he first met Seo Haeyoon.

After getting ready, he headed to the parking lot and made a phone call.

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“Madam, where are you? Should I come to the house?”

─ Yes, Joon. That would be great. Thanks to you, mom can go comfortably.

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Soo Seonhwa was always a grateful person. Naturally kind, she also felt a sense of atonement for her husband’s sins.

Anyway, Chae Beomjoon loved Soo Seonhwa. As a family member, a parent, and a person who guided him in the right direction.

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“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up the phone and drove the car. Even on a Sunday morning in downtown Seoul, there wasn’t much traffic. Thanks to this, he arrived at Soo Seonhwa’s house in less than 30 minutes and was able to see her.

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“Beomjoon-ah~”

With a gentle voice and a smile, Soo Seonhwa opened the passenger seat door and got into the car. Though she was nearing seventy, her natural beauty, complemented by meticulous care, made her appear to be in her fifties.

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“Seonhwa-ssi, did you sleep well?”

Anyone overhearing might think he was a flirtatious Casanova. With his eyes crinkling into a warm smile, Chae Beomjoon asked her kindly, and Soo Seonhwa’s smile widened even more. Among her six sons, she doted on Beomjoon the most, as he was far more affectionate than her own children.

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“Yes, I slept well. But why does my son’s face look so radiant today? Did something good happen?”

At the mention of something good, a familiar face flashed in his mind. Frowning slightly, Chae Beomjoon erased the thought and shook his head.

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“Good? Not really. Oh, maybe it’s because I get to rest tomorrow?”

“You’re off tomorrow?”

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On the way to the church, they exchanged lighthearted conversation. When he shared that he had recently visited the hospital due to feeling unwell, Soo Seonhwa examined him with a worried expression. Blaming her son Shin Kyoyeon for overworking him, she looked pleased as they arrived at the church, admiring how dashing Beomjoon looked.

“Lord, renew us with the grace of baptism through this holy water….”

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At the church, Chae Beomjoon attended mass for the first time in a while. Despite it seeming uncharacteristic, he had been baptized as a child and even had a Christian name.

After the hour-long mass ended, a full-fledged boasting session about their children began in the exhibition hall. Standing beside Soo Seonhwa with his charming smile and refined demeanor, Beomjoon took care of her attentively.

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“Goodness, compared to Director Chae, the representative of our family business feels like a nobody. Don’t you agree?”

“Right? Tell me, where else do you find a son like this? I’m so envious, really.”

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Though people often bragged about resumes and accomplishments, what the mothers in the group envied most was a child who looked after their parents—especially their mothers—with love and devotion.

In this gathering, there were those who had almost cut ties with their children over money or were currently in disputes over inheritance. Naturally, they envied Soo Seonhwa, who enjoyed unwavering care from her son without such concerns.

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“Some kids think sending a bit of money or a present on my birthday is enough. Do they think I endured childbirth and postpartum seaweed soup for that? By the way, what did Director Chae do for Seonhwa-unnie’s birthday last year?”

“Oh, we went on a trip to Iceland. With Vice President Shin’s family, too.”

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The “Vice President” referred to Shin Junggu, the eldest son of Shin Kyoyeon. Hearing this, one woman sighed deeply, recalling how she had spent more time cleaning up after her child’s overseas troubles than traveling with them. Her defeated expression made Soo Seonhwa smile faintly like a blooming flower.

“Instead of staying here, why don’t we head to the hotel? Let’s have afternoon tea.”

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“Shall we? Director Chae, you’re coming too, right?”

“If I don’t go, who will brew the tea for you? I’ll make it taste perfect.”

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The subtle competition ended with Soo Seonhwa emerging victorious. The others conceded, making calls to their drivers to move to a new location. Chae Beomjoon also rose to his feet.

“Come out with the ladies, Seonhwa-ssi.”

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“Alright, I will.”

The church had one significant downside: the parking situation. As a historic and expansive site, double parking was unavoidable. While a parking attendant managed the lot, he mainly ensured cars were moved or guided to prevent fender benders, as the place was teeming with sharp-tongued aristocrats and impatient nouveau riche.

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Since idling was prohibited, chauffeurs had to park and wait in the lounge, meaning there would be some delay before everyone could retrieve their cars.

Fortunately, Beomjoon had parked near the exit and didn’t need to rush. Spotting a familiar matron’s car waiting to be moved, he strolled to the smoking area nearby and lit a cigarette.

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It was then he encountered a familiar yet unpleasant face.

“Ugh!”

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Startled by a sudden voice expressing irritation, he turned to see a distinguished elderly man with a neatly handsome face standing across from the lone ashtray in the smoking area.

Ah, that elder….

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The man had dyed his hair jet black, making him almost unrecognizable compared to their first encounter, when he sported silver strands. Recognizing the face quickly during their second meeting, Beomjoon narrowed his eyes slightly, stretching his lips into a thin smile.

Previously, he had clashed with this elder over a parking issue. The man had double-parked, locked his car, and gone to mass, leaving Beomjoon struggling to move his vehicle. Fooled by the promise of a quick return, Beomjoon had even missed the window to call a cab, resulting in a canceled meeting and a scolding from his client.

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Despite the frustration, Beomjoon had maintained a smile throughout. With a mindset that “a first-class person smiles even in hardship,” he had greeted the elder warmly when he finally emerged after the next mass session, strolling leisurely.

However, instead of apologizing upon recognizing Chae Beomjoon, the old man, his face twisted with annoyance, began snapping about why Beomjoon had called him repeatedly. To top it off, while trying to back out his car, he ended up hitting the rear bumper of the vehicle in front of him, breaking its headlights.

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Watching this unfold, it was hard not to think the man might be suffering from some early signs of dementia. Worried that he might even get hit by the erratic driver, Beomjoon hesitated but eventually knocked on the car window and offered to park the vehicle himself, citing the driver’s age.

The suggestion enraged the man. His face turned red as he raised his voice, furiously yelling:
“Old? Oooooold? Do I look like some frail old man to you? Look at yourself! You look like someone who should be getting tested for menopause tomorrow! Or is your eyesight failing you already?!”

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…Thinking back, could that have been some kind of curse? Beomjoon shook his head, dismissing the absurd idea. Whatever the case, the man—whoever he was—was clearly deserving of respect as an elder. Determined to let bygones be bygones, Beomjoon straightened up and politely bowed.

“Good day, sir.”

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If only he knew the man’s title, it would have been perfect. But he didn’t. Given the white hair he’d seen last time (now dyed black), “sir” seemed like a respectful choice.

“Sir? Siiir?!” The man’s eyes bulged, and he clutched the back of his neck as he screamed. “You! Who sent you?! You’re here to drive up my blood pressure and kill me, aren’t you? WHO?! Who put you up to this?!”

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Recognizing him, the man—no, Seo Jonggil—launched into an indignant tirade. His over-the-top reaction to being called “sir” confirmed he was indeed sensitive about his age.

This made Beomjoon suddenly wonder: Did Seo Haeyoon think he looked this ridiculous when he got touchy about age? Perhaps it was time for some self-reflection. Next time, he resolved to just laugh it off gracefully.

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“I’m Seo Jonggil! Do I look like an old man to you?! What’s with all this ‘sir’ nonsense, huh?! You wanna clean your eyes out?!”

But then, just beyond the raging Seo Jonggil, a scene unfolded that seemed plucked straight out of a third-rate romance film.

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Was this a dream? Beomjoon blinked in disbelief, lowering the cigarette from his lips.

Dressed in a crisp white T-shirt, his chestnut hair slightly tousled, Seo Haeyoon was walking toward them with a radiant, glowing face. Next to him was someone who could only be described as a nameless extra.

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It was like the hero’s grand entrance in a romance movie. Beomjoon’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected sight. But then:

“Dad, why are you shouting like that?”

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The scene instantly shifted genres, transforming into a morning drama.

Dad? The word froze Beomjoon in place.

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He knew Seo Haeyoon occasionally addressed his father with affectionate “Dad, Dad” remarks, but…

Could it be?

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“Haeyoon! Just in time! This brat here keeps treating me like an old geezer! First calling me an ‘elderly driver’ last time, and now today, it’s ‘sir’! How can I not be furious?!”

Seo Jonggil’s demeanor turned triumphant as he gestured indignantly at Beomjoon, tattling to Seo Haeyoon. Meanwhile, Beomjoon stood frozen, stunned into silence.

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So, this was Seo Haeyoon’s father?

The realization hit him like a truck. No wonder the man’s face had felt oddly familiar—it bore an uncanny resemblance to Seo Haeyoon’s. Of course, that resemblance only applied when Seo Jonggil wasn’t yelling.

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“I’m a man who bowls 300 in my prime! You think I’ll sit quietly while some weakling treats me like a washed-up old man?!”

Ranting away, Seo Jonggil’s tirade barely fazed Seo Haeyoon, who calmly placed a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, Haeyoon sighed before looking over at Beomjoon.

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“Mister?”

Raising an eyebrow, Haeyoon seemed about to say something before recognition lit up his features. His expression softened, a smile spreading naturally across his face as he addressed Beomjoon with subtle delight.

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That smile was contagious, but Beomjoon resisted the urge to return it.

This wasn’t the time to be grinning.

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That man was really Seo Haeyoon’s father? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Flashes of his past conflicts with Seo Jonggil came rushing back. He clenched his teeth and forcefully buried those memories deep.

Nothing happened. Nothing at all.

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Forcing himself to believe this, Beomjoon put on a calm, pleasant smile, as if nothing was amiss.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

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“So, it turns out it’s not some fashion statement, huh?”

Haeyoon, wearing a peculiar smile, gestured toward Chae Beomjoon’s fingers. It was a subtle hint of skepticism about the purpose of the rosary ring. But it wasn’t something Beomjoon wore solely for religious reasons—it served various purposes.

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“Is that so? I even have a baptismal name, Ostiano.”

Suppressing a grin, Chae Beomjoon casually spun the ring on his index finger with his thumb. Haeyoon watched the familiar motion with interest. As the two exchanged pleasantries, the man who had frozen stiff—Seo Jonggil—finally came to his senses and spoke. His trembling voice was thick with distrust.

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“Haeyoon, my boy, don’t tell me you actually know this ruffian? You don’t, right?”

Ruffian? The hostile label made Haeyoon furrow his brows. Meeting his disapproving gaze, Beomjoon tilted his head as if genuinely puzzled, his expression one of innocent confusion.

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But to Seo Jonggil, that “innocent” face looked like the epitome of insolence. Standing behind his son, Jonggil glared daggers at Beomjoon, his mouth moving silently as if to say:

You scoundrel, what did you do to my son?!

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His expression practically screamed that if Beomjoon dared to admit, “I’ve kissed him, hugged him, and held him close,” he’d grab a knife and come charging after him.

For some reason, Beomjoon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was utterly screwed.

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“Oh, isn’t that the gentleman from last time?”

The three of them weren’t alone, after all. At the sound of a voice, Beomjoon turned his head and finally noticed the “extra” standing next to Haeyoon. It took him a moment to recognize the man from a distant memory, given how forgettable his presence was.

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“Fancy seeing you again.”

It was the man who had stepped in to mediate the argument between Seo Jonggil and Beomjoon the last time. Beomjoon vaguely recalled that he was an announcer for a regional broadcaster who commuted to Seoul on weekends in search of a suitable marriage prospect.

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For some reason, the announcer standing so close to Haeyoon was oddly irksome. Ignoring the feeling, Beomjoon gave him a slight nod in greeting.

“Hello.”

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“Hello! You’re not fighting with the president again, are you? Haha!”

“Well—”

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“Who’s fighting? That punk’s the one always picking a fight!”

Before Beomjoon could respond, Seo Jonggil’s sharp retort came flying his way. When did I ever pick a fight? Maintaining an innocent facade, Beomjoon smiled as if he had no idea what Jonggil was talking about.

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“I’m not sure what you mean, sir….”

“Sir?! And what’s that? You don’t know what I mean?! This… this sounds like dementia, doesn’t it?!”

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Perhaps unable to manage his temper, Jonggil was already worked up again. It was the announcer who calmed him down this time.

“Please, Mr. President, calm down. It’s not good for your health. Remember, you promised to play golf with me again soon.”

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“Hah, I’m only holding back because Haeyoon and Mr. Kim are here! Count yourself lucky!”

The announcer seemed to have grown quite close to Haeyoon’s father. Reflecting on their earlier encounter, it was clear that Jonggil and the announcer had been strangers before their spat in the parking lot. When did they get so chummy?

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Regardless, seeing a grown man cozying up to Haeyoon’s father was downright unseemly. Suppressing a strange sense of unease, Beomjoon maintained his steady demeanor, opting for silence in the face of baseless accusations. After all, the “judge” in this situation was too volatile to predict, and engaging seemed like a losing battle from the start.

Jonggil, noticing Beomjoon’s calm demeanor, ground his teeth and seethed.

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“Ugh, what a way to start the morning!”

“The sun’s high in the sky, Dad. What morning?” Haeyoon sighed. “Can you stop already?”

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“Stop? How can you tell your father to stop when he’s been humiliated like this?”

Seo Haeyoon wasn’t the only one showing a variety of expressions today. Jonggil himself seemed to shift between personas depending on who he was addressing. When glaring at Beomjoon, he resembled a cranky elder battling the early signs of Alzheimer’s. When talking to the announcer, he adopted a dignified air. And when looking at Haeyoon, his eyes practically dripped with doting affection.

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“I’m not budging until that punk apologizes!”

Although the announcer’s mediation seemed to be working again, Haeyoon suddenly interjected, reigniting Jonggil’s stubbornness.

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Just knowing that someone like Chae Beomjoon was acquainted with his precious son seemed to set Jonggil’s blood boiling. And when Haeyoon tried to intervene, it only made him dig in his heels even further.

“Calling me an elderly driver was ridiculous enough, but sir? Really?!”

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“Haah….”

Feeling frustrated by the obstinate attitude, Seo Haeyoon pressed his forehead as if overwhelmed. The sight of him struggling with his cantankerous father evoked pity. If he could, Beomjoon wanted to find a place in a care home for the old man. However, blood is thicker than water, and Beomjoon kept his mouth shut, worried he might get slapped if he even suggested the idea.

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Out of nowhere, a sharp glare was directed at him. Thinking it might be Seo Jonggil, Beomjoon looked up only to see Seo Haeyoon glaring at him without cause. In a firm voice, Haeyoon addressed him.

“I already know what my dad said, so don’t just stand there—explain yourself.”

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“What explanation? I don’t know anything about this.”

Haeyoon was clearly convinced that Beomjoon was involved in the matter. His disregard for Beomjoon’s silence felt deliberate. When Beomjoon shamelessly feigned ignorance, Haeyoon elongated his lips and shot him a piercing look.

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“Is this how you’re going to play it?”

“…”

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It felt unfair to be suspected even as he denied knowing anything. The accusatory glare, implying fault without context, made him feel unjustly wronged. Still, since Haeyoon seemed to have caught onto something, he realized he couldn’t stay silent.

Knowing Seo Haeyoon’s borderline paranoia, Beomjoon was sure that if he persisted in denial, Haeyoon would twist the narrative, accusing him of hiding something out of guilt.

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Damn it… He realized he had no choice but to confess to the incident.

“I think, in this case, it’s this person again,” a voice interjected.

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“Ha.”

Kim Ana, who had been standing like an extra, tried to speak up but was promptly silenced by Haeyoon’s frosty sigh. Haeyoon then alternated his gaze between Chae Beomjoon and Seo Jonggil before asking:

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“Who started it first?”

“…”

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He wasn’t asking who was at fault, but specifically who initiated the wrongdoing.

Beomjoon felt frustrated by the premature conclusion. Sure, he might have been wrong, but still…

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Regardless, Beomjoon maintained his composure. He refused to tattle like a child, pointing fingers and whining, “He started it!”

“That bastard called me an old geezer! Can you believe it, son?” Seo Jonggil, however, discarded all pretense of dignity and started fabricating an accusation.

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What? When did I ever call him that? Even if I thought it a hundred times, the words that left Beomjoon’s mouth had only ever been “elderly driver” or “senior.”

“Old geezer?”

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Unaware of the truth, Seo Haeyoon’s sharp gaze immediately turned accusing. Isn’t that a bit too much? Beomjoon, facing such a look, eventually opened his mouth.

“I never said that. Haeyoon, listen to me.”

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“Haeyoon? What? Haeyoon? How dare you use his name, you punk!”

Before Beomjoon could explain, the mention of Haeyoon’s name triggered Seo Jonggil’s fury. His blazing glare seemed to scream, Did you dare lay a hand on my son?! Beomjoon pretended not to notice and continued his explanation.

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“It happened about three months ago. I’m a devout Catholic, so—”

“Devout, my foot! I come every week and have only seen you twice!”

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“…Anyway, after Mass, I was heading to my meeting place and noticed your sedan parked in front of my car.”

“Sedan? Whose sedan? Are you calling me your father now? Who’s your dad? I never fathered a scoundrel like you! Oh Lord, how could such blasphemy occur in Your house—”

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“Dad!”

Seo Jonggil’s tirade was abruptly cut off by Haeyoon’s sharp call.

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Turning to glare at his father, Haeyoon glanced around as if to ask, “Are you really going to act like this with everyone watching?” His irritated gaze prompted Seo Jonggil to shut his mouth with a prolonged pout, adopting a faux-serious expression.

“Go on.”

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For some reason, the gesture felt supportive, warming Beomjoon’s heart. Maybe Haeyoon had grown somewhat fond of him. Perhaps he even preferred Beomjoon’s words over his father’s rants. Emboldened by such pointless thoughts, Beomjoon resumed.

“In parking lots, if someone double-parks, it’s common sense to leave the handbrake off so the attendant can move the car—”

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But as he spoke, Haeyoon tilted his head slightly at the word common sense. Are you saying my dad was being unreasonable? His expression seemed to ask. Intimidated by the implied rebuke, Beomjoon coughed and carefully rephrased.

At the mention of “common courtesy,” Seo Haeyoon tilted his head slightly, his expression sharpening as though questioning whether Chae Beomjoon was implying Seo Jonggil’s behavior was unreasonable. Beomjoon cleared his throat and pressed on, albeit more cautiously.

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“It may not always be considered common courtesy, but in a tight parking lot like that, isn’t it basic decency to ensure cars can be moved if needed? Anyway, your father…”

“Ahem!”

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“…had engaged the parking brake before going in for mass, and I wasn’t aware. So, I called him. He answered, said he’d be out shortly, so naturally, I waited. I assumed…”

“Ack!”

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“…he was attending the same service as I was. But ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, and still no sign of him. So, I called again. Once more, he assured me he’d be out shortly. So, I waited. Another forty minutes passed. By the time I realized he’d gone to a later service, my important appointment was already ruined.”

Chae Beomjoon sighed dramatically, pausing for effect. “I told myself to let it go and just wait patiently. But then, when your father finally arrived, instead of an apology, he started yelling at me. He said, and I quote, ‘What’s with all the calls? Don’t you know I’ll come out eventually?’ It hurt, Haeyoon. I waited for him and sacrificed my plans, only to be scolded like that.”

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Seo Haeyoon clicked his tongue in irritation and turned a sharp glare toward Seo Jonggil, as if silently asking, Was this really necessary? Jonggil, undeterred, bared his teeth in a grimace and glared back at Beomjoon.

“Fine, I might have forgotten to release the brake—my mistake. But think about it, Haeyoon. Everyone there is at church, right? Shouldn’t he have had the patience to wait? Calling incessantly like that shows a lack of self-control. And someone with no patience… how would they even manage to date properly?”

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“…What does this have to do with dating now?” Haeyoon furrowed his brow at the bizarre turn in conversation. Beomjoon seized the opportunity to interject.

“Haeyoon, wouldn’t anyone assume that when someone says they’ll be right out, they’ll show up within ten minutes?”

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“Why do you keep calling my son by his name so casually? What’s your name, huh?” Seo Jonggil snapped, his voice rising in accusation.

“Sir, please calm down,” Beomjoon replied cautiously.

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“I asked you a question! What’s your name?!”

The direct inquiry unnerved Beomjoon. What if either Jonggil or that smug Kim Ahna beside him recognized the name Chae Beomjoon? What if they discovered he was the CEO of DG Group? Worse, what if this information reached Seo Haeyoon, and Haeyoon—aware of Beomjoon’s position—decided to end their… unconventional arrangement?

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No. That couldn’t happen. Beomjoon cleared his throat as if to dismiss the question, focusing solely on Haeyoon. “Anyway, your father got angry and, while trying to move his car, accidentally hit the one parked in front of him.”

“Dad, how many times do I have to tell you to take the chauffeur with you on weekends?” Haeyoon chided, his frustration evident.

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“Hmph! I have two perfectly good arms and legs—why would I need a driver?” Jonggil retorted defensively.

Beomjoon felt a small surge of satisfaction at Haeyoon siding with him. He bit back a smile and resumed his story. “Seeing the accident, I grew concerned. I tapped on his window and offered to help move the car. I asked if he was a senior driver because—”

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“What did you just say?”

Beomjoon faltered. Haeyoon had snapped his head toward him, his eyes now sharp and piercing, as though Beomjoon had crossed a line.

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“Did I say something wrong?” Chae Beomjoon was about to retrace his earlier words when Seo Haeyoon spoke.

“How does my dad look like an elderly driver to you? Mister, is your eyesight bad or something?”

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The blunt tone stung a little. He’d thought Haeyoon was siding with him, but it turned out Haeyoon was simply judging things by his own standards. Feeling hurt, Chae Beomjoon pursed his lips into a long line.

“Of course, my son is right!”

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Seeing Seo Jonggil’s triumphant expression, Chae Beomjoon soon fixed Haeyoon with a curt look.

“My eyesight is 1.5 in both eyes. It’s perfectly fine. And while it doesn’t seem that way now, back then—”

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“Ahem!”

Chae Beomjoon had been about to explain that Seo Jonggil’s hair had been half-gray when the man suddenly let out a loud cough, staggering toward him as if unsteady.

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What’s with him? Beomjoon stared in surprise as Jonggil, feigning a smaller cough, discreetly stepped on his shoe.

…Is he picking a fight? Ignoring the childish gesture, Beomjoon opened his mouth to continue.

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“Back then—”

“Keheh!”

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“…Dad, do you have asthma or something?”

Just as he tried to speak again, Seo Jonggil let out another exaggerated cough. Realizing something was amiss, Beomjoon clamped his mouth shut.

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“I don’t have asthma,” Jonggil said with a weak cough. He waved a hand toward Haeyoon and subtly ran it through his jet-black hair. It wasn’t a natural motion. The way he clawed at his hair, as if trying to peel off gum, finally clued Beomjoon in.

He doesn’t want me to mention his hair had gone gray…. But if I don’t explain, it’ll sound like I just hallucinated the whole thing.

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“Go see a doctor later. Mister, what were you saying? Back then, what?”

The icy gaze Haeyoon turned on him resembled that of a judge from the underworld. Meanwhile, Jonggil stepped behind Haeyoon, his head held high, silently drawing a line across his neck with his thumb. The gesture clearly meant, Say one wrong word and you’re dead.

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No one had ever dared to threaten Chae Beomjoon like this—not even a leading enforcer from the Yonggung faction would have gotten away with it.

“What are you doing, Mister? Back then, what happened?”

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But here he was, inexplicably cowed by Seo Haeyoon’s father for no other reason than that he was Haeyoon’s father.

Beomjoon was tempted to brush it off, but the piercing glare from the old man kept him from doing so.

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“Back then….”

Dragging out the words, Beomjoon stared at Seo Jonggil. Detecting something odd, Haeyoon turned sharply to look behind him. Jonggil quickly averted his gaze, only to glare daggers at Beomjoon again as soon as Haeyoon turned back.

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“Back then….”

He didn’t want to be hated by the old man. No matter how absurd the situation, that feeling outweighed his need to prove his innocence.

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With a resigned sigh, Beomjoon closed his eyes briefly before meeting Haeyoon’s steady gaze. Haeyoon’s expectant, daring look was impossible to avoid.

“I was mistaken. He looked like he had less hair, so I assumed he was older.”

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“You… you little—”

At the mention of his hair, Seo Jonggil ground his teeth in frustration, but Haeyoon remained indifferent.

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“Less hair? Does he?”

Haeyoon turned to examine his father’s scalp. Jonggil wasn’t bald, but compared to Beomjoon, his hair did look a little sparse.

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Satisfied with the explanation, Haeyoon nodded, ignoring Jonggil’s fuming expression.

“Then both of you are at fault. Dad didn’t apologize properly for leaving the parking brake on, and Mister, you called him old without thinking. You didn’t like it when he called you ‘Mister,’ so why are you going around doing the same to others?”

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“…”

Initially, the blame was clearly 10:0 in Beomjoon’s favor. Even with his misunderstanding, the ratio should’ve been 8:2. Yet Haeyoon arbitrarily ruled it as 5:5.

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So this is what they mean by favoritism, Beomjoon thought, feeling deeply wronged as he reluctantly nodded.

“Yes, Haeyoon. You’re absolutely right….”

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It was a sullen response. Seo Haeyoon looked at Beomjoon and, as if finding him endearing, smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling. The moment Chae Beomjoon was met with that radiant smile, the hurt that had filled him melted away like snow in the sun.

Once again, a whirlwind of emotions began to stir—his heart pounding as if it might burst, dizziness washing over him. Beomjoon bit down on his lip and lowered his head, his burning cheeks finally hidden in the shadows.

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He wanted to grab the tranquilizers stashed in the glove box and swallow them down. But deep down, he knew they wouldn’t solve anything.

The emotion gnawing at Beomjoon’s heart, like a creeping illness, was expanding its reach. Now, he even wanted to make a good impression on Haeyoon’s parents. How was he supposed to deal with this overwhelming, rising desire? He couldn’t bring himself to ignore it.

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Chae Beomjoon wasn’t a fool.

He knew the reason behind the changes overtaking him. He’d tried so hard to deny it, but he was fully aware it wasn’t working.

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Hadn’t he denied it enough by now? Surely, it was enough.

This was the person who had appeared before him, a man who made Beomjoon long for belonging for the first time in his life. Someone who made him yearn for an anchor in his otherwise aimless drifting.

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A man who, in the vast gap between day and night, between holding and not holding a bow, drew him in completely, making escape impossible.

He liked Seo Haeyoon.

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Beomjoon didn’t know how deep his feelings would grow, but he didn’t want to deny his desire anymore. As Haeyoon once said, he wanted to let his heart play freely, as if pulling a bow across strings to create a deep resonance. He wondered what kind of sound would emerge when Seo Haeyoon and he came together.

At 38 years old, Chae Beomjoon finally admitted a truth he had realized far too late.

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He, too, was a person capable of holding someone in his heart.

A person capable of love.

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