In the Diary of the Girlfriend I Trusted
Right after I sent the message, a 'read' mark appeared next to it. Choi Seori had seen it immediately, just like always.
And then... silence. Nothing happened. No reply came. A minute passed since I hit send. The subway kept rumbling along and pulled into the next station. Doors opened and closed as people shuffled in and out. But all the noise around me just felt muffled, distant.
Three minutes. Every time the screen dimmed, I tapped it back on. Still no reply from Seori sunbae.
Five minutes. She definitely read it. Right away. Normally, Seori sunbae would've responded instantly. Even during work, my messages were her top priority. Like she was always holding her phone, waiting for me. But now? Silence. For over five minutes.
She's rattled. Has to be. Caught off guard by the unexpected question, she couldn't reply. Which meant—
That message I just sent—The guys meeting without the girls must've been boring—was probably a slip-up, sent by mistake. I should've played dumb, but some human error kicked in.
The company phone in my hand suddenly felt impossibly heavy. The latest flagship model. The one Seori sunbae had forced on me for "security reasons."
Was she seriously monitoring me with this? Watching my every move?
Thinking back, there were too many weird things. She always knew exactly where I was, what I was doing. Hitting me up at the perfect moments. Like she had my schedule and movements mapped out.
Seven minutes. Still no reply. But knowing Seori sunbae up to now, she was definitely staring at her phone. Just not answering.
I need to hear this. Whatever the truth is, I have to know. Can't let it slide.
A long silence later, her reply finally came.
Cheon Deokyong? Called Seori sunbae personally?
Were they close enough for that? No way. Sure, Seori sunbae, me, and Cheon Deokyong were all university alumni. But that was it. Seori sunbae never had private chats with anyone but me.
They probably don't even have each other's numbers saved. Neither of them.
Maybe Seori sunbae dug up his contact somehow. From the university admin office? On a holiday? Not impossible. Through a friend of a friend... six degrees of separation or whatever. But...
It felt like the last puzzle piece was missing. Her excuse wasn't totally illogical. Cheon Deokyong calling, passing on the girls bailing—it checked out on paper. But the timing was too perfect. The message hitting right as I boarded the subway, like she'd known from the start. And that long pause before replying...
Time to craft a lie.
Play along for now. Push too hard without proof, and she'll just deny it. Make things awkward, put her on guard.
Is she really spying on me, or am I paranoid? Need to watch closer.
My fingers danced over the screen. Casual, like nothing was off.
Familiar words. Our daily back-and-forth. Everything seemed the same. Except one thing—how I saw her now was forever changed.
Weekday afternoon, two o'clock. When most of the world was at work, we were lounging.
The luxury of a day off.
Seori sunbae and I sat on the living room sofa, each in our own world. I scrolled a webnovel on my tablet; she typed furiously on her laptop balanced on her knees.
Taking PTO and still can't let work go.
The weight of the CEO crown? Or just her workaholic nature? Either way, tragic.
Well, if she weren't a work-addicted genius, she wouldn't be running a unicorn company at her age.
Even on days off, she couldn't fully unplug. "Lighter tasks" counted as rest for her.
But at home, she was different. No crisp suit—just a comfy T-shirt and denim jeans. Hair down, loose.
If she weren't spying on me, she'd be perfect.
...That's what I thought, but hard evidence of surveillance? Zero so far. Maybe it wasn't that. Maybe I was overthinking.
Lost in paranoid what-ifs, I barely followed the webnovel—just skimming words on autopilot.
Beeeep-beeeep-beeeep—!
Seori sunbae's company phone shrilled. Her face shifted instantly. The soft look she saved for me vanished, replaced by the cold, sharp CEO mask.
"Choi Seori speaking."
Her voice dropped an octave, husky and low.
"What? The main server's down?"
I paused my reading, watching. Deep furrows creased her brow. That meant furious.
"Cause? DDoS? Internal glitch?"
Couldn't hear the other side, but her expression screamed crisis.
"What the hell's the server team doing? Switch to backup yet?"
She shot to her feet. Laptop nearly slid off the sofa but caught on a cushion.
"No, I need to go there myself. Data center in twenty."
She turned to me post-call, face a mix of sorry and stressed.
"Sorry, Minseo. You heard—gotta head to the data center now."
"It's fine. Want me to come?"
"Nah, I got it. Main server's totally crashed. Cause unknown. First time since launch."
She bolted for the entryway. No time for makeup or hair. Grabbing heels from the closet, still muttering—simulating responses in her head, probably.
"Back soon. Two, three hours tops. Text if I'm late."
"Drive safe."
The door slammed shut behind her. House went dead quiet. From two people to one.
I sank back onto the sofa. And there it was—
Seori sunbae's personal laptop. Left behind in her rush, right on the cushion.
This... is my chance.
Maybe inside: proof she was spying on me.
I reached for it. Screen saver still off—lucky. Desktop showed her recent files: work PPT, financials, and...
HMS_Analysis.docx
"......"
HMS. Han Minseo. This body's name.
I double-clicked without hesitation. No dice—password prompt popped up.
"Hah, figures."
Of course she'd lock something personal.
Hands on keys, I tried everything: her birthday, mine, Core Systems founding, my hire date, initials... all fails.
"Fuck— no, calm down, stay cool."
Bit back the curse, pulled hands away, closed eyes. Think like her.
File named HMS_Analysis? Obvious—my initials. Password's gotta tie us together.
Biggest thing between her and Han Minseo? Racked my brain. Amid memory fragments, one scene blazed clear: empty computer lab at dawn. Her collapsing from overwork. Her body, so light.
No way... that?
Eyes open. Trembling fingers typed the date from that memory.
Password accepted. Finally.