An Aching Little Finger

To Chairman Lee Chanmo, Lee Jayeong was an aching little finger — the one part of him that hurt.

Twenty years ago, he had let his youngest son go. Lee Mingyu.

Everyone else had endured, and so he had assumed the youngest would endure as well. It was the stress of being crushed under the weight of the company. Lee Mingyu left the world with nothing but an apology.

Mingyu's wife — Jayeong's mother — had been a woman from an ordinary family, nothing more. All through the marriage the contempt of the royal family never once let up, and even Lee Chanmo himself had looked on her with displeasure. Worse, the grandchild they had finally been given was not a son, but a daughter. While Lee Jayeong was growing up, Chairman Lee Chanmo never so much as glanced her way.

The son died. The daughter-in-law walked out of the house. Only Lee Jayeong was left behind, stranded.

She smiled, bright and oblivious, not even knowing her father was dead and her mother had gone. Looking at that smile, Chairman Lee Chanmo felt something he had never felt in his life. Guilt. It seemed to him that all of it was his doing.

Not once had he ever believed a choice of his was wrong. If he had, he never would have climbed this high. Only one moment. That single moment was the one in which even Chairman Lee Chanmo understood he had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chosen wrong.

From then on, he lived favoring Lee Jayeong above every other member of the family.

Even so, any man who meant to set foot in the house of Jinseong Group could not be just anyone. You never knew. How was he to be sure it wasn't some man sweet-talking innocent Jayeong, with his eye on the group's assets?

Chairman Lee Chanmo summoned Chief Lee alone.

"Yes, Chairman."

"How long has it been since I asked you to look after Jayeong?"

"Five years, sir."

"Five years... Then you ought to know Jayeong better than anyone."

"I do."

"So. This man Lee Jayeong is said to like. Who is he?"

"......"

"You'd do well not to try any careless lies. The one who pays you isn't Jayeong. It's me."

"He was a male employee on the same team, but I don't believe it's anything you need to concern yourself with, Chairman. He resigned not long ago."

"A man from the same team... Not the blood of some other group, is he?"

"That's right. He's from an ordinary family."

Chief Lee deliberately did not elaborate on Ju Jinyeong. If the Chairman learned that the man the young lady loved was a divorcé, there was no telling what measures he might take — even against the young lady herself.

"I hardly know what to say. Absurd."

"You needn't worry too much, sir."

"If it looks as though she means to stay tangled up with that man, you report it to me at once. Better to cut it off before the feelings run too deep."

"I will, sir."

Chief Lee cherished Lee Jayeong every bit as much as the Chairman did.

Not this time. If the young lady is happy, then that's enough.

Twitch. Twitch.

Lee Jayeong couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from climbing.

It was the first time since his resignation that he was seeing her off the clock.

"Are you really that happy?"

"Ahem... Who said I was happy?"

For someone meant to run a company, she was hopeless at hiding her face. Every word she spoke, the whole of her showed straight through.

She's flustered.

"It's been ages. Come on — cheers."

He had expected her to name some stately old steakhouse again, the kind where they carved the meat at the table. The place Lee Jayeong had called him out to was nothing of the sort. It was an ordinary beer pub.

One whole fried chicken. Two drafts.

So even a chaebol granddaughter liked this sort of thing. Maybe he really had been looking at her through tinted glasses all this time. Then again, he could make tens of millions and he still wouldn't be able to give up chicken.

One toast, and more than half the beer in Jayeong's glass was gone.

......Thanos?

"Did something happen?"

"Don't even ask. Just the other day, would you believe it, my grandfather—"

Lee Jayeong started, then caught herself. Grandfather. Did she mean the chairman of Jinseong Group?

"Never mind. There was just... a thing."

"Sometimes getting it off your chest is a comfort all by itself."

"Sorry?"

"When the rumor first went around the company that I was the man in the affair... it was really hard. Standing there making excuses felt like it would only look pathetic, so I never really cleared my name. What made it hard wasn't the rumor about me. It was that when I wanted to speak, there was no one there to listen."

Wasn't the royal family a stage of appearances too? They had to keep the formalities in place at all times, and to meet the expectations hung on them they must have lived pushing themselves every single day. The life he had lived and the life she had lived weren't even on the same difficulty setting.

Wouldn't it be good if she had even one person she could talk to freely? And besides, he wasn't part of Jinseong Group anymore.

Something welled up. In no time at all, tears stood in Lee Jayeong's eyes.

The youngest was the youngest. With a heart that soft, how was she supposed to run a company? It had nothing to do with him, and still, in his own way, he worried. She felt like a child set down at the edge of a river.

"Actually, there's something I've never told anyone. Not until now."

She hadn't said it. He already knew.

"But if it's you, Assistant Manager, I think I can trust you with it. In exchange, no matter what it is, you absolutely cannot be surprised. Agreed?"

"Of course."

The last time her true heart had been audible to him, he had already been shocked as far as a person could be shocked. There was nothing left.

She let the silence hang a moment. Then Lee Jayeong tipped back the rest of her beer and drained it.

And then, again.

"...The truth is, I'm not an ordinary employee."

"You don't say."

"I'm the youngest granddaughter of Jinseong Group. I'm only here for a little while, getting hands-on experience before I go into management."

"I see."

......

A moment later.

"Okay, not being surprised is one thing, but this is a little too calm, isn't it?"

"You're the one who said not to be surprised no matter what."

"I know, but still. The youngest granddaughter of Jinseong Group is sitting right in front of you..."

"What's in front of me isn't the youngest granddaughter of Jinseong Group. It's Lee Jayeong, who used to be my junior at the company. Isn't it?"

"What?"

"......Assistant Manager."

He made a quiet vow. From now on, whomever he looked at, he would look without tinted glasses.

Beer glasses stacked slowly across the table. While they drank, Jayeong told him how she had grown up — all of it, nothing left out.

I didn't know her parents were gone. How hard must it have been, finding her footing inside Jinseong Group with no mother or father at all.

Someone had once said it. Life is a comedy when you look from far away, and a tragedy up close.

So Jayeong's life isn't so different from ours after all.

She poured her heart out for a long while, and when she was finished her face was clear, unburdened.

"Haa— it really feels like a chest that's been stopped up for decades just opened all at once."

"Then I'm glad."

He hadn't really done anything. Lee Jayeong had talked, and he had only listened. Sometimes merely listening was comfort enough.

"Assistant Manager. Do you know how much fun I'm having today?"

"Haha. I'm having fun too, actually."

"But... you've resigned now. Isn't it strange to keep calling you Assistant Manager?"

"...Then what were you planning to call me?"

"Hmm... Oppa?"

Oppa. It was a word he hadn't heard in a long time. He'd only ever heard it back when he first started dating Lee Somin. A few months in, forget oppa — blunt, casual speech had become the default.

"Oh my. Assistant Manager, your ears turned red."

"...They did not."

"They did too. They're red. Oppa!"

"Don't call me oppa."

"Oh my, red again. I think your ears are about to explode."

"Oh, come on!"

"Hahaha! Okay, okay. I'll stop teasing."

Right around the time the drink was really taking hold.

"Let's do round two! Round two!"

Lee Jayeong said it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a voice bright with excitement.

Once they parted tonight, who knew when he would see her again. And drinking with her, he had been enjoying himself more than he'd expected.

"All right. Let's."

"Yes!"

They were just about to head out for the second round when his phone buzzed.

Why is Noona calling now?

A bad feeling crawled up the back of his neck. He answered.

He hung up and called a taxi at once.

"Is something wrong?"

Lee Jayeong said it beside him, eyes gone round.

"...It's my mother. They said she collapsed out of nowhere and they're taking her to the hospital. Let's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do round two another time. I'm sorry."

"Oh — then wait, just a second..."

He never even managed a proper goodbye. The taxi arrived, and he got in.

Lee Jayeong stared after the cab Ju Jinyeong had climbed into and left in.

"Jinseong Severance..."

His head was nothing but his mother.

We shouldn't have only gotten ourselves checked. We should have taken our parents too.

Every terrible possibility started crowding in at once.

What if it's an illness money can't treat, even if I have the money?

There was a passage in a book he used to read.

He was suddenly, coldly afraid that a day like that had come.

The more he thought about it, the less strange it seemed that his mother would collapse. Of all the houses she could have married into, it had been a conservative one, and she had worn herself raw looking after his grandparents. Through all of that, to raise him and his sister, she had never turned down dawn shifts at a restaurant. She had gone out every single day.

And recently there had been his brother-in-law's accident, and then the news of his divorce. The shock to her had been no small thing. Day after day she had sniffled and wiped at her tears.

He reached the hospital carrying all of that dread.

"...Mom?"

"Aigoo. Why'd you go and tell Jinyeong about something this minor."

She had come to, thank God. His mother sat propped against the pillows, her face drawn and haggard.

"What, were you afraid your mom had up and died over a little thing like this?"

She forced a smile, terrified her son might worry.

"What happened? Are you all right now?"

"I'm fine. The doctor said I've been under so much stress lately my digestion's gone off. Short on essential nutrients, blacked out for a minute, something like that..."

He pulled his mother into his arms with everything he had.

"Mom."

He hadn't held her like this since the day he enlisted, and time felt cruel. When had she grown so thin? The mother who, when he was small, had seemed able to hold back every storm in the world — all that remained of her now was a slender woman with a child's frame.

"Can't breathe. What's this child doing, pulling stunts he never pulls. But, son..."

"Yeah?"

"The lady who came in with you. Is she your girlfriend?"

...?

The woman who came with me?

His mother must have grown so frail she was seeing things. Something welled up. Just as the tears he had barely been holding back were about to break—

"Haha. Hello, ma'am."

Huh......?

Now even he was hearing things. Was frailty contagious?

"I'm Lee Jayeong, Assistant Manager Ju's junior from work. It's a pleasure to meet you. We were together, and I was so worried I followed him. If that was rude of me, I'm sorry."

...Lee Jayeong?

He turned his head with all the speed of a wind-up clock.

And there behind him, Lee Jayeong stood rooted to the spot.

Ah—

It was startling enough that she had followed him all the way here. What came flooding in after was shame. She had watched every second of him falling apart.