Chapter 52
“……”
Cheong-yeon couldn’t have possibly imagined that Do-heon would demand sex in exchange for sponsorship. Despite sex being, as he said, a basic condition for sponsorship.
Though his thinking had been excessively naive, Cheong-yeon had valid reasons for that assumption.
After all, their bedroom experiences had always been barren.
“You don’t even like it much. Having sex with me.”
Cheong-yeon, pushing past his embarrassment, reminded Do-heon of the truth as he knew it.
“When did I ever say I didn’t like it?”
“You never said it directly. But from the first time we did it, your response was… well…”
As he spoke, the humiliating memory of that day naturally surfaced.
The day he first revealed his raw heat cycle symptoms to Do-heon. And the painful, infrequent encounters that followed.
Cheong-yeon trailed off, hanging his head low. Though the restaurant tables were spaced far enough apart that no one could overhear their conversation, he couldn’t help feeling diminished.
“You seem to be under some misunderstanding. I wanted to embrace you while in a perfectly rational state—I never said I disliked sleeping with you.”
Do-heon corrected the facts in a level tone. Cheong-yeon’s back stiffened; he’d never discussed their intimate relationship with him before.
“For someone who doesn’t dislike it, we didn’t exactly do it often.”
“Should I have held down someone who cried from pain every time and satisfied my desires every night?”
“……”
“I don’t have such filthy tastes.”
Hearing this, Cheong-yeon was at a loss for words, recognizing the logic in Do-heon’s statement. At the same time, he felt confused.
This was something he was learning for the first time, three years into their marriage. He had naturally assumed Do-heon disliked it. Or more precisely, Cheong-yeon had always felt that Do-heon simply took no pleasure in having sex with him.
“You’re not just messing with me, are you?”
“Not at all.”
Having a truth he’d believed without question suddenly denied left Cheong-yeon considerably shocked. Not knowing how to react, he simply crumpled the innocent napkin resting on his lap.
Do-heon swirled his glass before taking a sip of wine, waiting for Cheong-yeon’s response. Though Do-heon had been the one to propose the sponsorship and the decision rested with Cheong-yeon, somehow Do-heon remained infinitely more composed.
Until Do-heon demanded sex as payment for the sponsorship, Cheong-yeon had been quite inclined to accept the offer. But now…
“You don’t need to decide right away. I’ll give you until next week to think about it.”
Do-heon added when Cheong-yeon’s silence stretched on. Only then did Cheong-yeon release the napkin he’d been gripping and speak.
“Honestly, I don’t understand.”
After such a simple divorce, now that they’ve become strangers, he suddenly wants to sponsor me? Says he wants to spend time with me? And with physical relations as a condition, no less.
He was in a position where he could find sexual partners whenever he desired. Cheong-yeon still couldn’t grasp why it had to be him specifically, and the confusion was frustrating.
“Could it be…”
Cheong-yeon swallowed dryly as he looked directly at him. A thought that had been lingering in his mind was painfully circling his mouth.
“Could it be that you like me?”
When Cheong-yeon finally voiced the question he’d been harboring, Do-heon raised an eyebrow as if he’d heard something strange.
That expression already felt like an answer, making Cheong-yeon shake his head and avert his gaze.
“No, please forget I asked that. I’m just… this situation is so confusing…”
“Why would you ask that? I’ve never not cared for you.”
Do-heon’s response made Cheong-yeon freeze.
“If you ask me now whether I like you, I don’t know how to answer.”
After a brief silence, Do-heon continued quietly. And for several seconds, Cheong-yeon stared at him, forgetting even to breathe.
Never not cared for you.
Recalling the words he’d just uttered, Cheong-yeon felt his heart sink.
But from Cheong-yeon’s experience, Do-heon’s definition of “caring” was closer to a strong person’s sense of responsibility to protect the weak. It was completely different from the romantic feelings Cheong-yeon had harbored for him.
Despite understanding the clear difference, Cheong-yeon’s chest ached at Do-heon’s affectionate words. He suddenly realized he hadn’t completely excised his feelings for Do-heon, as if trying to cut them all away with a knife.
And he became afraid that in a moment of carelessness, he might lose his heart to him again.
“Director, excuse me for interrupting. Just a moment…”
As his thoughts were becoming tangled from the impact of Do-heon’s casual words, his assistant appeared from somewhere.
The assistant approached Do-heon without making a sound and whispered something in his ear. Do-heon nodded briefly with an expressionless face, then immediately stood up.
Cheong-yeon’s head tilted up, following his movement.
“I need to go now.”
“You’re leaving right now?”
Are you kidding? We haven’t even finished talking.
When Cheong-yeon opened his mouth in disbelief, Do-heon stepped away from the table.
“Something came up at the company that I need to attend to.”
He glanced down at Cheong-yeon, who was looking up with wide eyes.
“Think about your answer until next week.”
After adjusting his slightly disheveled clothes, he delivered his message like an announcement and left the restaurant.
“Wait a second…”
Cheong-yeon stared bewilderedly at his retreating back as he exited with his assistant. When they were no longer visible, he turned his head resignedly to look at the food on the table.
The empty seat across from him and the cold food. The familiar scene wasn’t particularly surprising. This had happened often during their marriage too.
People really don’t change. Cheong-yeon picked up his fork again with self-mockery.
Normally, he would have lost his appetite and ended his meal after Do-heon left so abruptly in the middle of dinner, as if Cheong-yeon were nothing. But now he knew well that only he would suffer if he let himself be swayed by Do-heon’s consistent indifference.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling irritated by his lack of consideration for the person he was with. Of course, he didn’t despise him as much as before. He wasn’t even hurt anymore.
“Could I have more wine, please?”
Undeterred by being left alone, Cheong-yeon ate his steak accompanied by the wine newly poured by the staff. And he seriously pondered the conversation with Do-heon and the conditions he had laid out.
*
Cheong-yeon left the restaurant as calmly as if nothing had happened that day.
It was quite late by the time he returned home.
Because everything had happened so suddenly, it didn’t feel real.
But as soon as he stood in front of the furniture that Do-heon had asked if it was rotten, the reality of his situation suddenly began to sink in.
A sponsorship offer that even some celebrities receive. But from his ex-husband?
Throughout their brief dinner, Do-heon had acted as if he was confident Cheong-yeon would accept his proposal, but honestly, Cheong-yeon wasn’t sure he could accept the opportunity Do-heon had extended like some act of charity.
Theoretically, isn’t it practically the same as selling his body?
‘We’re exchanging what each of us wants. Like a kind of transaction.’
Do-heon had spoken as if it were a very simple matter. Or perhaps for him, it really was nothing special. He was a businessman who strictly distinguished between profit and loss, a materialist. This would just be one of the many contracts he signed every day.
“Should I have cursed him out?”
Cheong-yeon muttered after gulping down cold water from the refrigerator.
It was an incredibly rude proposal that wouldn’t have been strange if he had flipped the table, but truly oddly, in that moment, his offer wasn’t just unpleasant.
“This still isn’t right.”
Cheong-yeon concluded after much contemplation. It was a bizarre proposal that would be difficult to accept no matter how he looked at it, now that everything was over.
Cheong-yeon recalled the time when he genuinely liked him. Each day by his side had felt like a dream and was filled with happiness, but paradoxically, it was equally painful.
I can’t get more entangled with him. The more I do, the more I’ll end up hurt.
So this is where it stops. Even if his acting career is being pushed to the edge of a cliff.
Cheong-yeon resolved to clearly express his refusal when they meet next week.
*
The next day.
Arriving at the company, Cheong-yeon entered the CEO’s office with familiarity and sat on the sofa. Having frequented this place recently due to various incidents, it now felt as comfortable as his own home.
“I’m going to refuse.”
Cheong-yeon told Manager Kim Kyung-seop as soon as he sat down. Even if he didn’t know the details, Manager Kim would have some idea of what Do-heon had said to him yesterday.
“Ah, y-yes. Right.”
“……”
“Then… did you completely settle that conversation yesterday?”
“We agreed to meet next week so I could tell him definitively.”
Manager Kim sighed deeply and glanced sideways at Cheong-yeon.
“Alright. If that’s what you say, then that’s how it is.”
“……”
“……”
The two remained silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.
Manager Kim was inwardly disappointed by his firm stance. Though he tried to appear indifferent, actions like stroking his jawline or swallowing sighs gave Cheong-yeon a vague idea of how he felt.
Even so, Cheong-yeon didn’t want to blame him. After all, he too had been shaken by Do-heon’s words.
‘I can not only take you where you want to go, but if you wish, I can place you at the very top.’
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t excited by those words, filled with confidence to the point of arrogance. The pinnacle that he had never dared to imagine. Cheong-yeon knew better than anyone that Moon Do-heon was a man who could pull him up to those heights.
“Ah, is the mood too heavy? Sigh. Your decision is what matters most, so you did well.”
“Did you call me here just to ask me about this?”
Cheong-yeon tilted his head, wondering why Manager Kim had called him to the office when they could have easily communicated this over the phone.
Only then did Manager Kim snap his fingers as if suddenly remembering something. He got up and began rummaging through a drawer in the corner of the office.
“I didn’t call you just for that. Some scripts have come in. I wanted you to come and review them.”
He pulled out several thick scripts wrapped in brown envelopes and placed them on the table. Four of them, in fact. A look of puzzlement crossed Cheong-yeon’s eyes.
Scripts came in at a time like this? At this point when he was struggling to get even a minor role with no lines?
How on earth.
“Are you saying all of these came in for me?”
Cheong-yeon hurriedly opened the envelopes and checked the scripts.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
