Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I tried to convince myself with the same mantra. If I were Miss Yena, I would be flustered by this sudden change in atmosphere, but I am Buyeon. As if I was brought back to reality, I became less flustered.

I smiled at him and said, “So you know you’re handsome.”

He blinked at my composed attitude, then laughed. “Yena, now I see you’re not someone to be underestimated. Got it. That was refreshing.”

He was as quick-witted as ever. He even noticed that I wanted to change the subject.

“So, where are we going now?” I asked.

“To see the autumn leaves. They say you must see them in the fall.”

“Autumn leaves?”

“Do you know Hwadamsup* They say the autumn leaves there are breathtaking.”

“Where is that?”

“Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province. It was hard to make a reservation. It sold out in a minute.”

*Hwadamsup autumn leaves.

I was puzzled. “How did you know today would work out when you made the reservation?”

“I planned to go alone if I couldn’t take you. At the time of the reservation, I thought it would be nice to go with you.”

“So you’re really lucky today?”

“Yes.”

I laughed. Perhaps because of this pleasant atmosphere, I was suddenly giddy. It had been exactly ten years since I had gone out for fun.

“Can I open the window?”

“It’s warm today. I’ll open it for you.”

He opened the window, and a cool breeze eagerly swept inside, ruffling my hair. I stretched my hand out, feeling the freedom slip through my fingers, tingling.

I am free now. Even though my body is Namgung Yena’s, I feel fortunate to be alive.

As I leaned out a little further, the wind brushed my cheek. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. And at that moment, Jang Doha said,

“Scream if you want.”

He turned to me and gave me a relaxed smile. “Screaming helps relieve stress.”

“Can I really?”

“Who’s here besides us?”

His words gave me a surge of confidence. Regardless of the cars behind us or the fact that we were on the road, I took a deep breath and let my voice out.

“Yaaaaa! Yaaaaaah!”

The sound of my scream quickly dispersed into the air. Instead, a coolness filled my heart. I felt relaxation seeping into my hard, tense mind, making me feel a little softer. I smiled at him, and the expression on his face when he saw my smile was a bit strange. As I rolled up the windows, feeling relieved and a bit conscious, he spoke.

“Keep smiling like that. You used to smile a lot, but this smile looks different. It’s beautiful.”

I was taken aback. Had I really smiled? Thinking about it, when I was with him, I laughed and smiled more than I ever did before.

How long had it been since I last smiled like this? Before marriage, I used to smile often, but over the years, all joy had drained away. I lived in constant fear, controlling and suppressing my emotions to avoid sudden outbursts of violence.

Now, sitting here, I felt a wave of gratitude toward him rather than embarrassment.

“Thank you for bringing me out.”

“Come out often. There are many places you haven’t been to because of work.”

My heart felt warm and cozy. Despite the congested road, my mind was clear.

We arrived at Hwadamsup and barely managed to find a parking spot. Stepping out of the car, I was struck by the breathtaking view.

“It’s amazing.”

Not only were the autumn leaves impressive, but the sheer number of people was also striking. It had been a long time since I had been in such a crowded place.

“Wait a moment.”

He popped open the trunk and pulled out a pair of sneakers. “Try these on. I bought them by estimate, so I’m not sure if they’ll fit.”

I blushed slightly. “Are these for me?”

“Yeah, just in case. Give them a try.”

I slipped off my heels and eased into the sneakers. They fit like they were made for me. A satisfied smile spread across his face.

“They fit well. Are they comfortable?”

“Very comfortable.”

“Hold on a second. Let me tie the laces better.”

This nearly six-foot-three man knelt before me and carefully retied the laces. It was an unexpectedly romantic gesture. Passersby glanced at us with envious eyes, causing my face to flush.

He finally stood up, flashing me a bright but coy smile. He then took off his gray scarf and gently wrapped it around my neck.

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s cold in the mountains.”

My cheeks warmed inexplicably. This was the first time anyone had treated me like this. He smiled as he draped the scarf around my neck.

“Let’s go.”

He was dressed in a gray turtleneck sweater and a slightly darker gray overcoat, looking even taller. In my sneakers instead of heels, I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

“You’re really tall.”

“I was even offered a spot on the basketball team.”

Basketball? That suited him.

“Did you join the team?”

“No. Instead, I got into street basketball. Do you know 3-on-3 street basketball?”

“Yes.”

I used to watch it all the time when I studied abroad.

“I think it suits you.”

“Joining the team meant I would have cut my study hours, so I played it as a hobby. I didn’t want to devote myself to basketball entirely.”

We walked slowly, chatting along the way. Conversations with him were always enjoyable. He paused at the ticket booth.

“Just a moment.”

He bought something and came back over, beaming with a big smile.

“Looks like we’re in luck. I got tickets for the monorail.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a ride that takes you up. It would be tiring for you to walk all the way, and they say the monorail is a must.”

“Who says so?”

“I did some research. I was excited just thinking about coming here with you.”

He said such corny things so earnestly. Maybe it was his pure-hearted nature. We waited our turn and boarded the white monorail. He positioned me by the window and stood behind me protectively. In his large presence, I felt safe. My heart fluttered a bit. The monorail started moving, and a subtle fragrance wafted from him. It was the same scent I noticed at the hospital, soothing and calming. He marveled at the view.

He said such cheesy things with such sincerity. Maybe it was his pure-hearted nature. We patiently waited our turn and boarded the white monorail. He then guided me to a window seat and stood protectively behind me.

I felt secure, wrapped in his tall presence. I discreetly placed my hand over my chest, where my heart was pounding faintly. As the monorail started moving, I could smell a subtle fragrance waft from him—the same soothing scent I noticed at the hospital.

As the monorail went deeper, little by little. I was suddenly caught by the marvelous view.

“Wow, this is just beautiful.”

From above, Hwadamsup was stunning. The unfolding display of autumn foliage especially captivated me, and I murmured, “It looks just like Central Park.”

“The leaves are beautiful there, too, but I think this is even more spectacular. South Korea has so many beautiful places.”

Miss Yena and I attended different schools. I went to NYU, and technically, I was Jang Doha’s senior. But to avoid any misunderstandings, I intentionally refrained from discussing school.

Right now, I was too caught up in enjoying my first taste of freedom in Hwadamsup, and I was likely to slip up.

As we got off the monorail, he said, “It takes about 90 minutes to see everything here. Let me know if your feet hurt, and we’ll head back.”

I nodded. Even if my feet hurt, I was determined to see everything. We walked slowly. While my spirit felt like it could wander endlessly here, Miss Yena’s body was weary.

After about 20 minutes, I began to pant. My legs felt heavy, my heart gasped for air, and sweat beaded on my forehead.

“Huff… huff…”

Seeing me struggle, he grew anxious. “Let’s go back.”

“No. I want to see everything. We can go slowly.”

This felt like the first real test of Miss Yena’s physical endurance. I wasn’t exactly in great shape myself, but her body was in terrible condition. How had she managed this long?

Of course. I suddenly remembered her Lou Gehrig’s disease and smiled sadly. ‘You’ve endured well with this body. From now on, I’ll make sure you’re healthy.’

We took frequent breaks. It felt like I was gasping for every bit of air I could muster. Initially, he insisted we turn back, but as my determination solidified, he silently stayed by my side.

“Hold on,” he said.

Using his arm for support, I walked slowly. At some point, he had taken my coat and was holding it. We walked a few steps, paused, and walked again. That’s how we made it to the top of Hwadamsup.

I looked down at the forest, the autumn leaves now held more meaning than just their beauty. For me, they symbolized a sense of accomplishment, as if I had completed my first mission. I sensed his gaze on me.

“Yena, I’m impressed.”

“Yes?”

“To be honest, I thought you’d ask to go back halfway.”

“This felt like a challenge I couldn’t back down from. I wouldn’t have made it without you, President Jang. Thank you.”

I raised my head and looked at him. The wind blew, tousling his hair and mine. It was a strange sensation. The feeling of having accomplished something with him made me feel more connected, and my trust in him had grown. I offered my hand to shake, and he took it, grinning as he asked.

“We’ve gotten a bit closer, haven’t we?”

I smiled sincerely. My chest was warm. “Yes, I think so,” I agreed.

—

As we left Hwadamsup, we gave up on finding a nearby restaurant; there were just too many people. He started searching on his phone.

“Let’s just eat anywhere we find on the way,” I suggested.

He shook his head. “This is our first date. We can’t just eat anywhere.”

At that moment, I realized we needed to have a serious conversation.

“President Jang.”

“You should only call me that at work. If you call me President Jang in front of my family, they’ll get suspicious.”

He was right, but I addressed him anyway.

“President Jang, I need to talk to you about something.”

At my gentle tone, he put down his phone and looked at me. “I’m ready. Go ahead.”

“The MK Chairman tried to marry me off to the Prosecutor General’s son.”

“Is that why you said you were dating me?”

“Yes. And you said I was your girlfriend. So I thought this could be mutually beneficial…”

He looked at me with a strange, unreadable expression. It was the first time I’d received such a look from a man, but I wasn’t too naive to understand what it meant. I blinked, flustered, as he spoke calmly. His voice was deeper than before.

“I like you, Yena.”

It was a simple yet heartfelt confession. For a moment, my heart wavered, but then I was brought back to 10 years ago—I had heard something similar back then, too. My ex-husband had confessed in the same way.

“I don’t trust men’s confessions. I’m sorry.”

The words came out of my mouth reflexively. I shouldn’t have been nervous. I was expecting this. But my voice couldn’t help but tremble, and I didn’t know why.