The moment Ji-woo walked into the hotel, her eyes were drawn to the extravagant wreaths hanging everywhere. The loose hold she had on Seo Tae-joon’s arm tightened into a tense grip.
A short sigh escaped her lips. She had a simple plan: show her face to Chairman Lim and then disappear.
Ji-woo was acutely uncomfortable in her outfit. Her stockings were tight, the fine mesh tickling her legs with every step. She felt a desperate urge to bend her knees, to stretch, to do anything to relieve the constant friction. To top it all off, the square neckline of her dress left her collarbones exposed.
She felt like a stranger in her own skin, teetering on high heels that forced a slow pace and showed off the curve of her calves.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, his gaze lowered to her as he escorted her through the crowd.
Ji-woo was momentarily distracted by how different he looked. Though his hair was casually styled, it was brushed to reveal a sliver of his forehead, lending him an air of maturity. His leisurely demeanor was so unnervingly steady.
The thought left her flustered, her gaze darting about without a place to land.
She took a moment before answering. “Not nervous. Just a little uncomfortable.”
Her eyes traveled over his face, from his eyes to the bridge of his nose. The proportions were perfect. Her attention drifted to his sensual lips and the sharp line of his jaw. He belonged in a place like this.
“Are you Ji-woo?” Jo Kyung-chun, the director of D hospital, examined her from head to toe, his eyes widening in a crude appraisal.
Her half-tied hair swayed with her movements. With her pale skin and delicate features, she was a striking sight. Director Jo couldn't seem to look away. The rich green of her dress set off her slender frame and smooth skin.
“Wow,” he breathed. “Hwang Jo-yoon will be surprised!”
“Excuse me,” Ji-woo said coolly, stepping past him.
For a long time, she had used her clothing and even her scent as a kind of armor, a way to keep people at a distance. They were her thorns, and they usually worked.
Of course, there were exceptions, like Hwang Jo-yoon.
She had always been confident that her life would be different from her parents’. Love and emotion had no place in it. Loneliness was her salvation.
“Ji-woo, are you not feeling well? Should we leave?” Seo Tae-joon’s hand closed tightly around hers.
She felt suffocated and immediately pulled her hand away.
“No, I’m not leaving.” I won’t retreat a single step.
She swallowed down the nausea rising in her throat and forced her attention to the laughing, mingling crowds.
“Director!” A woman with long, waving arms approached them. She had a stunning figure, showcased by a black see-through dress that clung to her curves.
“Um, who are you?”
Ji-woo blinked. For a hospital director not to recognize someone at a social gathering like this was a serious faux pas.
“I’m Joo Dong-mi!”
“Ah!” Ji-woo exclaimed before she could stop herself. Joo Dong-mi was completely transformed from the woman she’d seen in a big, oversized coat with no makeup.
“Hi.”
“Wow! I never imagined meeting you here!” Tall and slender, with flowing short hair and elegant makeup, Joo Dong-mi had a sophisticated, urban air about her. Ji-woo watched as she smoothly passed her empty champagne flute to a server, a gesture of someone completely at ease in such a setting.
Ji-woo found herself wondering if she had been mistaken before. Could it be that this version of Joo Dong-mi, this chic, carnivorous beauty, was more real than the plain-looking woman from the emergency room?
As if she could read her thoughts, Joo Dong-mi gave a knowing blink. “My uncle is the guest of honor tonight,” she remarked.
“Chairman Lim?”
Joo Dong-mi smiled and nodded. A slow, heavy smile spread across her lips as her eyes landed on the finely dressed Seo Tae-joon. Ji-woo felt her throat tighten.
“You said you’d tell me your name when we met again,” Joo Dong-mi said, tilting her head with confidence.
Seo Tae-joon remained silent. His eyes were fixed on Ji-woo, his expression unreadable.
Noticing his unwavering gaze, Joo Dong-mi swiftly changed her target. “Could I speak with your employee alone?” she asked, clearly dismissing Ji-woo.
Ji-woo was about to step back, trying to force a smile to hide her stiffening expression, when Seo Tae-joon whispered in her ear, “You’re not paying attention.”
Amid the beautiful, clamorous noise of the party, his soft voice struck her like a thunderclap.
“You will behave like a married woman. Ji-woo, there will be no forgiveness for your mistakes this time,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Her chin lifted, and the feeling of suffocation intensified. To her dismay, she could feel the sharp lines of her collarbones standing out. Before she knew it, her heels were carrying her away, a brisk retreat from Joo Dong-mi, from the champagne and the dresses, from the lights, and from Seo Tae-joon.
She didn’t stop until the chilly night air enveloped her.
Ji-woo sighed in relief. It was less suffocating out here, a little better.
She walked aimlessly through the garden, where rows of perfectly round trees, manicured to a human sense of ‘nice,’ stood in silent rows.
Ji-woo suppressed the thoughts that weighed on her heart and, out of habit, began to assess the trees’ health.
“Ji-woo.”
Her back went rigid at the sound of the old voice. There was only one person it could be.
Frowning, she turned. As expected, Hwang Jo-yoon was glaring at her, a large gauze patch on his forehead and another on his nose, leaning on a crutch. His expression went blank for a moment as he took in her dress.
“What are you wearing?”
Even seeing him in such a pathetic state, she felt nothing. If anything, the bruised eye suited him.
If she felt pity for anything, it was for the trees, each wrapped in thousands of tiny light bulbs. The decorations would ruin their growth, slowly drying out their bark and causing the leaves to brown.
“Are you just going to ignore me now?”
His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “The least you could do is say sorry!”
“Why should I?” Hwang Jo-yoon limped closer, pointing a finger at her as if aiming a dart. “Your husband isn’t normal.”
“Neither are you,” Ji-woo responded dryly.
“What?”
“Do you think it’s normal for an educated person to rub his cheek against someone else’s window?”
A flush crept up Hwang Jo-yoon’s neck, and his glare intensified.