Lies That Taste Like Ash
After the storm of passion subsided, we straightened our clothes and exchanged idle chatter.
“It’s surprising, though. I never thought someone like you, Samchon, would do something like this.”
Unlike me, who felt utterly drained and had no desire to speak, Min-a looked positively radiant, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“I just… after fighting with you, I couldn’t stop missing you. It was unbearable.”
Lie.
“Really? You mean it?”
“I do. You kept popping into my head. I wanted to see you so badly.”
Lie. Lie.
“The moment I saw you, my emotions surged and I just couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
Not a single hesitation. Not even a flicker of guilt on my face. I spun those lies with perfect composure right in front of Min-a. Something crude that barely deserved to be called a conscience twitched uncomfortably in the corner of my chest.
Pathetic.
In truth, all I’d wanted was to vent my frustration. Yet even that had left me unsatisfied, still stewing in misery. A pathetic fool who couldn’t do a single thing right.
Pathetic. Pathetic.
Well, what did you expect from a worthless bastard like me?
I couldn’t even manage a proper release of anger, nor could I tell a convincing lie to my own woman. I wanted to bury my face in my hands and run, but I couldn’t even do that.
No. I wouldn’t.
Because I don’t even have the courage to do that. I just keep it all bottled up inside.
“See… look, Oppa. I really came so hard.”
“That’s good to hear.”
I couldn’t meet her bright, loving eyes. Instead, I stared at the ground, pretending to feel awkward as I looked away.
“Last time at the company… you seemed so embarrassed that I felt a little guilty. But this time it was completely different. I actually liked how forceful you were. It felt new and exciting.”
“Whether it was then or now, both were wrong, you know.”
“The feeling’s different, though. That sense that you were so turned on because of me that you couldn’t help but take me.”
When I pinched her cheek, she beamed up at me with a playful smile.
“We should head back inside. People will be arriving soon.”
Seeing that smile made me reluctant to drag the conversation out any further, so I quickly tried to end it.
“You only have me, right? Don’t you?”
“Yeah. So let’s go back. Fix your expression. The CEO was worried.”
“Why would Dad be worried?”
“He probably noticed we were fighting and called us in to make us reconcile. He even fed us eel to wish us well moving forward.”
“So that’s why the two of you left? Then it was worth it. I’ll have to make sure you eat plenty of eel from now on, Oppa.”
“That sounds weird. You’re basically saying I’m usually not up to par.”
When the two of us returned to the office together, the atmosphere brightened in an instant. For the time being, the others wouldn’t have to worry so much about Min-a. Until now, no one had known the real reason behind her constant irritability, so they’d all been walking on eggshells.
This should be enough.
Not wanting anyone to glimpse the discomfort in my heart, I quickly sat down at my desk. There was still a mountain of work waiting. Today was going to be another brutally long day. I let out a quiet sigh that no one else could hear and placed my hands on the keyboard.
I’m so tired.
The commute home felt endless. Just once, even for a single day, I wished I could walk through the door with light steps. Not always complaining about exhaustion. Not always clutching my head from stress.
“You’re home?”
“Mm.”
“You’re a bit late. Did you eat dinner?”
“There was a lot of work. I grabbed something quick in between.”
“How can our family’s breadwinner eat like that? Look at you—your face is so thin.”
The moment I opened the door, my niece greeted me warmly. She took my bag, set it down, and stroked my cheek with concern. Her hand was gentle. Her voice, full of care, was warm.
This… can’t go on.
Strangely, just hearing her voice made the suffocating pressure in my chest and the worries weighing on my heart feel utterly insignificant. Even though I knew this was wrong, I kept leaning on her emotionally. I knew it wasn’t the behavior of a proper adult. I knew that she, of all people, was the one struggling the most, yet I kept doing it anyway.
“Didn’t you have a mock exam today?”
“I just took it casually. It’s not the real Suneung, so whatever.”
“Still. This is the most important time for those. It helps you gauge where you stand.”
“Don’t worry too much. I can handle it.”
“I know you’re smart, Yerin… but your uncle should at least…”
“Play the role of a concerned parent?”
“I should at least know what schools you’re aiming for. What you’re capable of getting into.”
“I don’t really have anywhere specific I want to go yet. Maybe I’ll just go to your school, Samchon. You’d be my senior.”
“What were your scores?”
“Here. I compared answers with my friends. You should be able to tell from this.”
I sat on the sofa, and Yerin nestled close beside me like she belonged there. As I took the memo and looked it over, she rested her head on my lap and idly swung her legs.
We used to sit at a comfortable distance—not too close, not too far.
Has the distance between us shrunk that much?
It was nice that she felt so familiar with me… but as uncle and niece, we still needed to maintain an appropriate boundary. The same gap we used to have. Not too close. Not too far. Close enough to care for each other without becoming a burden, without becoming overly intimate.
“See? Not bad, right?”
“Yeah… you did well. With scores like these, where could you get in? It’s been so long since I took the Suneung that I can’t really tell anymore. Maybe I should ask Min-a.”
“Why her?”
Suddenly, Yerin snatched the memo from my hands. The look in her eyes as she stared up at me was fierce.
“No, I just meant she took it more recently than I did, so she’d know better.”
“Oh please. She’s not even a retaker. How would a college graduate remember? It’s been ages.”
“Then… should I ask your homeroom teacher?”
“He wouldn’t know either. I don’t get how someone that clueless ended up as a senior-year homeroom teacher. I’ll handle it myself.”
“Handle it yourself? Do you have any idea how important the Suneung is?”
I had to figure everything out on my own. Our family wasn’t well-off enough for private tutors or cram schools. Whether it was studying or applying to colleges, I always had to rack my brain. While my busy mother worked, I’d scour university websites and submit applications. I wandered in circles trying to find schools that matched my grades. Because I knew that pain, I didn’t want Yerin to go through the same thing. At the very least, when it came time to write her applications—at the very least, when she was struggling—I wanted to be there to offer even a single word of advice.
“You’re busy too, Samchon. I can manage.”
“No matter how busy I am, I can make time to talk about your college plans. The regular admissions applications are due right after the mock exams.”
“Yeah… I guess around then.”
“There’s no ‘around then.’ Look. You say you’ll handle it, but when the time comes, you’re already struggling.”
“For college… there’ll be somewhere I can go. If not, Samchon will take care of me, right?”
“What?”
Yerin flopped back down onto my lap again.
“You’ll take care of me, right? Or are you going to kick me out?”
“No, that’s not— I mean, of course not, but…”
I couldn’t quite grasp what she was really trying to say, so I didn’t know how to respond.
“Or I could live with you and work part-time. If I find something I really want to study later, I can go to college then. It’s not that big a deal whether you start a year early or a year late.”
She rested her head on my lap again and swung her legs up and down. Her pale feet waved distractingly in front of my eyes.
“If Samchon gets married… and says I have to leave… I’ll go. So don’t worry too much. When that time comes, I’ll take care of myself.”
Because she was covering my face with the memo, I couldn’t see her expression. But her trembling voice—those faltering words that sounded like they might vanish at any moment—conveyed her feelings perfectly.
Don’t abandon me. I have no one but you.
“Are you going to keep acting like a brat?”
When I took the memo away, Yerin turned her head to the side. She curled up on my lap, hiding her face and concealing her expression. I spoke each word with deliberate emphasis.
“You little idiot. Who said anything about kicking you out? Even if you try to move out later, I’ll tie you up and drag you back. Where do you think you’re going? The world is dangerous these days. A young woman living alone? No way.”
“Tch. Then what about Sungmo?”
Just like that, she switched from calling her “that woman” to “Sungmo.” She really did whatever she felt like.
“Well… she’s different. Honestly, if she said she wanted to live alone, the CEO would’ve welcomed it with open arms. He was always inviting me over to his place.”
“Wow. Then why don’t you go live with her, Samchon?”
“We’re… well, our parents approved of us.”
“Then you can’t just break up so easily now.”
“Break up? We… we have to make it work. From now on.”
Just get married. Somehow. She was the best woman I could possibly meet. The one who loved me the most. A woman so far above my station that I could never dare to reach for her. So I just had to make it work. No matter what happened, I absolutely had to.
“What if I told you to break up with her?”
“Huh?”
Yerin rustled around and sat up straight again.
“If I told you to break up with her, what would you do? Samchon.”
She had clearly been crying. Her voice had definitely been shaking. Yet strangely, her eyes were completely dry, not a single tear in sight.