Not My Mother
“What happened the other day… was a mistake. It really… shouldn’t have happened.”
She tried to speak as calmly and emotionlessly as possible, but even she could feel her voice trembling slightly toward the end of each sentence.
Tae-seok simply watched her in silence.
Instead of answering, he seemed to be listening to everything through his gaze alone. That quiet stare only made Eun-jung more uneasy, so she gripped her own hands tighter without realizing it.
“I must have made a mistake too. I’m truly sorry. But we’re both adults… Let’s make sure something like that never happens again. You… understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”
Even as she spoke, Eun-jung felt that these words weren’t really meant to persuade Tae-seok—they were more like a vow she kept repeating to herself.
A brief silence fell between them. Short, yet awkwardly drawn out.
“Why? Why can’t it happen again?”
Eun-jung couldn’t find the words. The question was so simple that she didn’t know where to begin explaining.
“…What do you mean, why…? You’re… Hye-young’s son, and…”
She managed to open her mouth, but the rest of the sentence refused to follow naturally.
“There’s also a big age gap between us…”
The reasons that had been circling in her mind seemed to lose all strength the moment she tried to voice them.
“That doesn’t matter.”
His voice held neither hesitation nor uncertainty.
Eun-jung’s gaze wavered for an instant.
“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? You’re like a son to me. I really thought of you that way.”
She tried to sound firmer, but she couldn’t quite manage it. After all, she knew better than anyone how she had reacted to the very man she had once seen as a son.
Tae-seok didn’t look away. Instead, he took a step closer and met her eyes more clearly as he continued.
“I’m not a child… and I’m not someone you need to take care of.”
He paused for a moment, then added in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
“I’m definitely not your son. And the person you saw as a son… already slept with you.”
The moment those words left his mouth, something inside Eun-jung’s chest quietly sank. The last excuse she had been clinging to crumbled far too easily, leaving only emptiness behind.
After another short silence, Tae-seok spoke again.
“Eun-jung, do you have any plans tonight?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, she tilted her head.
“Huh? What are you talking about all of a sudden? I don’t have any plans.”
“You didn’t go anywhere either…”
Eun-jung looked at him in confusion.
“Then why did you dress up so nicely?”
“Huh? No, that’s…”
“This isn’t your usual style. Did you want to look pretty for me?”
“That’s not it!!!”
Her face flushed as she strongly denied it, feeling as though her true feelings had been exposed.
“What would you even do if I looked pretty to you?”
“What on earth are you saying? Are you even listening to me?”
Tae-seok shook his head slowly as he watched her.
“I thought you felt the same way I did. That’s what I sensed. But if I was wrong, and you really think we shouldn’t… then I’ll respect that.”
There was no desperation in his tone, no attempt to persuade or hold on. He simply sounded resigned, as if he would accept whatever she decided.
Eun-jung’s eyes trembled.
Tae-seok paused again, then added quietly without averting his gaze.
“It’s not like I was planning to do anything on my own anyway.”
The words sounded light, yet they carried a strangely hollow feeling—the same emptiness that had clung to him lately, the listless way he had been living without stepping outside or showing any motivation.
“If you don’t want it… I’m fine ending things here.”
He continued slowly.
“Right now, I don’t need anything anyway.”
It could have sounded cold, but it was closer to the attitude of someone who had lost all drive—someone for whom having something or not made no difference. It was the quiet resignation of a person who had long kept the world at arm’s length.
The moment his words ended, something inside Eun-jung sank once more. She felt relief, but also a pang of sympathy for Tae-seok. And beneath that, an unexpected sense of loss she wasn’t supposed to feel.
She had wanted him to draw the line first, yet when he accepted it so easily, she felt as though she had lost something instead.
Eun-jung slowly clenched her hands on her knees, then released them again, powerless.
“…Fine. Let’s do that. That’s how it should be. Thank you for understanding, Tae-seok.”
She nodded slightly as she spoke, but the hollow feeling in her chest refused to fade even after the words left her mouth.
She hesitated for a moment, then stood up as if there was nothing left to say.
Yeah… This is how it ends. This is right.
She walked toward the door.
Eun-jung’s hand stopped on the doorknob.
Unlike the firm resolution she had just voiced, the simple act of turning the handle and walking out suddenly felt impossible.
She tried to put strength into her fingers, but they wouldn’t obey.
She simply stood there.
Facing the door, her back turned to him, unable to say a word.
The room was silent.
“…Why are you still standing there?”
Tae-seok’s voice came from behind.
Eun-jung didn’t answer. Or rather, she couldn’t. If she opened her mouth, she felt the fragile thing she was barely holding onto would collapse completely.
Tae-seok walked toward her.
Eun-jung’s feet remained rooted to the spot.
Even when she tried to grip the doorknob, her fingers refused to move the way she wanted.
“…You’re right. Why am I doing this…”
She whispered, so softly it was almost inaudible, as if asking herself.
Her hand slowly slipped off the doorknob.
Then, with painfully slow movements, she turned halfway around, still hesitating.
In that moment, she clearly felt Tae-seok’s presence right behind her. He was too close.
The warmth and breath reaching her back stirred her senses sharply.
“Was it… really a mistake earlier?”
It was a careful question, but it struck at the heart of the matter—a question she couldn’t answer.
Eun-jung’s breath caught for a second, then resumed unevenly.
“Yes. So let’s just… stop this.”
She barely managed to force the words out, but even they lacked the strength to convince herself.
“For me… it wasn’t.”
At that single, calm statement, Eun-jung’s body visibly trembled. It felt as though he had touched her heart directly.
He slowly raised his hand and gently covered hers.
From the moment his fingertips touched her, that familiar sensation began to seep back in—the same strange feeling that had undone her body only hours earlier.
But this time, it didn’t end there. The touch brought back vivid memories of when she had been in his arms, and everything that had followed.
“Tae-seok…”
Her voice was low and trembling.
Tae-seok took one more step closer. They were now near enough that their breaths naturally mingled.
Eun-jung’s gaze wavered. She tried to turn her head away, but couldn’t quite manage it and stopped halfway.
“…We shouldn’t do this… I… really didn’t come here for this…”
The words slipped out weakly.
“No… It’s fine.”
His voice was low and quiet.
“And… it wasn’t a mistake for you either, was it?”
Eun-jung’s eyes trembled again at those words.
“Tae-seok… Even so, nothing changes. We’re… really not supposed to be like this.”
“I don’t care about that. And deep down… you want it too.”
Eun-jung couldn’t answer for a moment. If she opened her mouth, something would break.
“You can’t always have what you want.”
She forced the words out, but even she didn’t sound convinced.
“That’s true. But…”
Tae-seok took a quiet breath, as if choosing his next words carefully, then looked straight at her.
“…I don’t see any reason why we should hold back what we both want right now.”
He didn’t say anything more.
Instead, he slowly leaned in. The movement was so deliberate and unhurried that she had plenty of time to pull away.
No… If we do this again…
A final warning rang in her mind.
“You can still avoid it.”
But Eun-jung didn’t turn away from his lips.
Instead, she slowly closed her eyes.
In that instant, his warm, soft lips gently settled over hers.
