Chapter 22
As Cheong-yeon tried to lightly grab the package being handed to him, he nearly lost his balance and fell over. The wrapped bundle was heavier than expected.
No, it wasn’t just heavy—it was so weighty that he wondered if it should have been transported on a cart. How many months’ worth of herbal medicine had they given him? No wonder Grandmother had earnestly insisted while seeing them off that he must take all of it without skipping any doses because it contained good medicinal ingredients.
“Why is this so heavy?”
It was astonishing that Do-heon had carried this all the way here without even a hint of labored breathing.
“Stop fooling around and just enter the passcode.”
“…Yes.”
Do-heon commanded as he effortlessly took back the package.
Ugh, how embarrassing. To show such weakness in front of someone who already thought he was frail.
Cheong-yeon bit his lower lip and entered the passcode for the building entrance. Then he unlocked the door to his apartment. Since his new place was on the first floor, it was just a few steps from the building entrance.
“You can put it down here.”
Do-heon entered the hallway and placed the package on the floor. With a heavy thud, a low vibration rippled across the floor.
“Thank you very much. Please get home safely.”
Cheong-yeon quickly said goodbye before Do-heon could have a chance to look around the apartment, as if trying to drive out an unwelcome visitor. Although it was a hint for him to leave quickly, Do-heon stood motionless by the shoe rack with no intention of moving.
“Could I have a glass of water? My throat is dry from being out of breath.”
“You don’t look out of breath at all.”
Cheong-yeon responded dryly to the flimsy excuse. Do-heon then twisted his neck from side to side and massaged one of his shoulders. And in his robotic tone, he added:
“I’m tired.”
“…”
Come on, anyone could see his face was perfectly calm. If you’re going to act, at least put some effort into it. Do you really need to drink water here when you have your own hotel-like home?
Cheong-yeon stared at him with a look of disbelief. This wasn’t like him at all. It wasn’t just his imagination—Do-heon’s behavior today was particularly strange.
But since he couldn’t be completely heartless to someone who had carried that heavy package all the way here, Cheong-yeon eventually gestured for him to come inside.
“Excuse the intrusion.”
If it’s an intrusion, you could just leave…
Swallowing the sarcasm that had risen to his throat, Cheong-yeon opened the refrigerator. It seemed all the bottled water was gone, as there was only beer overflowing and no water or other drinks in sight.
Yet it felt awkward to suddenly offer beer to his ex-husband.
Cheong-yeon glanced at Do-heon, who had entered the living room, and pondered his options. His pride wouldn’t allow him to advertise that he was living in a house that didn’t even have a bottle of water.
“I’ll make you some hot tea.”
So he decided to boil some tap water.
“That would be nice.”
Do-heon readily agreed. Fortunately, Do-heon liked tea. Luckily, Cheong-yeon had bulk-purchased tea bags during his last trip to the supermarket.
Cheong-yeon pointed to the two-person dining table as he filled the electric kettle with water from the sink.
“Sit there and wait just a moment.”
Do-heon obediently sat down at the dining table.
“Ah. I don’t have black tea. Is green tea okay?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“…”
Cheong-yeon turned on the electric kettle and waited for the water to boil. The silence that fell during this time was so uncomfortable it drove him crazy.
Pretending to be nonchalant, Cheong-yeon took out a cup and placed a green tea bag in it.
Shortly after, he poured the freshly boiled water from the kettle into the cup.
“Here you go.”
Cheong-yeon handed him the cup and immediately opened the kitchen window. He was anxious that if he stayed too close to Do-heon, his pheromones might act up unpredictably.
“Is the tea drinkable at least?”
Surprisingly, Do-heon, who was normally very particular about his preferences, drank the tea without even checking the type of tea bag.
“…”
“…”
And he said nothing.
So he won’t even say it’s good as a polite gesture. Cheong-yeon inwardly mocked his determined attitude.
“Drink quickly and leave.”
“Should I have answered that it’s drinkable?”
“Couldn’t you at least tell that little lie out of consideration for the person who served you?”
“It’s drinkable.”
“Forget it. It’s too late now.”
“Next time I find myself in a similar situation, I’ll make sure to lie.”
“How about next time you drink tea at your own home?”
“Were you always this talkative?”
“Wow, amazing. We must be on the same wavelength. I was just thinking the exact same thing about you, Director.”
Cheong-yeon glared at him, emphasizing each word. Do-heon seemed completely oblivious to the hint, not even blinking as the homeowner stared at him with fiery eyes.
He savored the tea that didn’t suit his taste with an infuriatingly refined manner.
To Cheong-yeon’s eyes, Do-heon and this apartment were like Nutella and mushrooms—a completely mismatched combination. The low ceiling, the tacky colorful wallpaper, the small space, and the dining table that looked disproportionately tiny compared to his frame.
To exaggerate, Do-heon looked like a deranged adult who had broken into a dollhouse built for children.
Cheong-yeon had been quite satisfied with the apartment, considering it spacious for the price in this area, but it felt woefully inadequate for someone of Do-heon’s size.
“There’s a cobweb on the ceiling.”
Do-heon looked up as he drank his tea. Cheong-yeon followed his gaze and confirmed the cobweb on the ceiling.
“Ah, so there is.”
Having already encountered centipedes and cockroaches several times since moving in, Cheong-yeon could easily laugh off something as minor as a cobweb and coexist with it.
“It seems dangerous.”
“The cobweb?”
“The entire place.”
Just then, the sound of a couple fighting upstairs could be heard, with thumping noises. Quite explicit curses also filtered through the walls.
Unless one lived in a detached house, noise from neighbors was unavoidable.
“There’s a ceiling, no water leaks, and the door locks properly—what’s dangerous about it?”
“It seems too flimsy to properly protect you.”
“…This is enough for me.”
“And it’s too noisy.”
“It’s a place where people live, so of course there will be sounds.”
Do-heon disliked noise. Whenever they had been alone together in their house, it had been as quiet as a graveyard, so this environment would naturally be irritating to him.
After a while, a long “Meow!” from a cat came through the window. At the same time, Do-heon placed his teacup down on the table, as if he could no longer bear the poor conditions before his eyes.
“Yoo Cheong-yeon.”
He looked at Cheong-yeon, who was leaning against the wall at a distance.
“Come back to me, even now.”
“…”
What was this about now? Cheong-yeon frowned, unable to immediately understand his sudden words.
Was he suggesting they get back together?
“What?”
“At least until you can find a proper place to live, rather than this dump.”
Ah, thankfully it wasn’t nonsense about reconciliation.
However, Do-heon’s proposal was equally unacceptable.
“I have my own place, why would I stay at someone else’s house?”
“If you were with me, at least you wouldn’t be sleeping in such a shabby place. You also wouldn’t need to wait for hours in the rain outdoors.”
“Ah…”
Was he joking again? Or was he serious?
Cheong-yeon quietly looked into his eyes. After a moment of silence and observing those stubborn black pupils, he could finally read that his words were sincere.
Is this appropriate for an ex-husband to say after going through a divorce? It was somewhat laughable. Cheong-yeon finally realized how Do-heon was seeing him.
He considered all the hardships Cheong-yeon was experiencing as unnecessary struggles endured solely because of their divorce.
The part-time jobs, his desperate attempts to restart his acting career, living in a much smaller and cheaper apartment than before.
And from Do-heon’s arrogant expression and voice, Cheong-yeon sensed it. Do-heon was confident that if given the chance, Cheong-yeon would voluntarily return to him.
Cheong-yeon felt his mouth go dry.
“I’m more comfortable here. I left that house because it was awful, why would I go back?”
“You’re saying this place, which is about to collapse, is more comfortable than our house?”
He asked, as if he couldn’t understand at all.
“The furniture is rotting.”
“What furniture is rotting? Don’t say such strange things.”
Do-heon frowned, pointing at the furniture Cheong-yeon had picked up from the street when moving in. Cheong-yeon corrected him, saying it was just old, definitely not rotting.
But then he soon felt this argument was meaningless. From Do-heon’s perspective, his former spouse was living in a place more squalid than expected, which might have aroused his sympathy, but for Cheong-yeon, it was an unwelcome kindness.
Cheong-yeon picked up the teacup from the table and emptied it into the sink.
“Anyway, please leave now. As you can see, my living conditions are too shabby to entertain guests for long.”
At that, Do-heon stood up.
“Why didn’t you negotiate property division with the lawyer?”
“…”
“I’m sure he told you to consult with him as my representative.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
