Business as Usual
Monday morning.
Min-a arrived at the office a little earlier than usual.
Her eyelids felt heavy from not having slept properly all weekend.
But staying home any longer would have meant facing Min-woo’s face again.
Min-woo hadn’t said a word.
Not even in the morning.
He had prepared breakfast as usual, helped her get ready for work as usual, and smiled cautiously as usual.
That very ordinariness was the hardest to bear. It felt like it would shatter at the slightest touch.
Min-a paused for a moment in front of the glass doors of the company lobby.
Her reflection looked no different from any other day.
A neat light-pink blouse, a skirt that fell just below the knees.
Her hair lightly tied back, makeup fresh and lively.
No one would ever guess.
What had happened to her last Friday night… what she had said to Min-woo when she got home…
And the expression Min-woo had worn after hearing it.
Min-a gripped the strap of her bag tightly.
“It’s okay.”
She whispered the words, though her voice trembled slightly.
When she opened the office door, the familiar sound of keyboards and the scent of coffee greeted her.
“Good morning. Have a nice day.”
Min-a greeted everyone as normally as she could.
A few employees looked up and returned the greeting. No one gave her a strange look.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief and sat down at her desk, powering on her laptop, when the sound of familiar dress shoes approached from behind.
Click. Click.
Min-a’s fingers froze.
“Good morning. Did everyone have a good weekend?”
It was Choi Gyeong-rok.
He walked in with the same calm expression as always.
After a brief greeting to the team, he headed naturally to his own seat.
Min-a kept her eyes fixed on the monitor.
Her chest felt rigid, as though she had momentarily forgotten how to breathe.
Gyeong-rok passed right beside her desk. A faint trace of his familiar scent brushed past.
At that moment, Min-a’s shoulders flinched.
The night they had been alone. That low voice she had heard in the room.
The hand that had caressed her chest while telling her it was all right to cry, and the feeling of being filled for the very first time.
Min-a bit the inside of her lip.
“Seo Min-a-ssi.”
Her heart dropped at the sudden voice.
When she slowly lifted her head, Gyeong-rok spoke while flipping through a file.
“The client materials you were organizing last week need to be finished this morning for the out-of-office trip.”
His tone was purely professional—neither cold nor warm.
The usual Gyeong-rok.
“Yes, Team Leader.”
Min-a barely managed to answer. Gyeong-rok said nothing more and returned to his seat.
That was all.
Min-a felt a small measure of relief at his attitude, as if nothing had happened.
And then, immediately, a hollow feeling followed.
All weekend, Min-a had been falling apart.
She had fought not to cry in front of Min-woo, only allowing herself quiet sobs once she was alone in the bathroom.
Yet Gyeong-rok looked completely composed, as though nothing had occurred at all.
Min-a stared at her monitor and rested her hands on her lap.
Her fingertips were cold. It felt foolish that she had been the only one suffering.
—
The morning’s work dragged on slowly.
Even while organizing the documents, Min-a kept losing track of the content.
Her eyes moved across the pages, but nothing seemed to register in her mind.
As lunchtime approached, the office gradually emptied.
Employees left in small groups to eat.
“Aren’t you having lunch, Min-a-ssi?”
“Ah… I haven’t finished yet.”
The others looked at her with pity. If Gyeong-rok had ordered it done by morning, then it had to be done.
Lunch could wait.
Min-a stood in front of the team leader’s office holding the completed materials.
She wiped her palms once more before knocking. They were damp with sweat.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
When she opened the door, Gyeong-rok was focused on his laptop screen.
Min-a walked over as calmly as possible and placed the approval folder on his desk.
“Here are the materials you requested.”
“Good work.”
Gyeong-rok picked up the documents and immediately began scanning them.
Min-a quietly stepped back while watching him.
She could simply leave now. Finish a late lunch quickly and return—that would be the end of it.
Perfectly ordinary.
Her hand had just reached the doorknob when—
“Min-a-ssi.”
Min-a’s hand stopped. It was the same voice as before.
But to her ears, it sounded entirely different.
Not the team leader’s voice from the office, but the low voice that had made her cry on Friday night.
Min-a slowly turned around.
“Yes.”
Gyeong-rok spoke without lifting his eyes from the papers.
“You seem a little uncomfortable walking.”
Min-a’s face flushed instantly.
She wondered if answering playfully, the way she might have in private—“It’s because of you, Team Leader!”—would ease the tension.
“Are you all right? If it’s too difficult, you can take the afternoon off and go home.”
The words were clearly meant as concern—the sort a superior might offer a subordinate.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet Min-a found herself breathless at that single remark from Gyeong-rok.
He knew exactly where and how she was uncomfortable. Why her steps were slightly awkward.
Why she had avoided meeting his eyes since morning.
Knowing all of it, he still asked as if it were nothing.
“I’m fine.”
Min-a lowered her head, not wanting him to see her reddened face.
“It’s not bad enough to interfere with work.”
“I wasn’t talking about work.”
Gyeong-rok’s voice dropped. Min-a couldn’t reply.
He watched her for a moment before setting the documents down on his desk.
“Did you tell Min-woo?”
Min-a’s throat tightened. Even though she knew the office was empty during lunch, she couldn’t answer right away for fear someone might overhear.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
A short reply.
Too dry to be praise, too gentle to be an order.
At those words, Min-a’s eyes trembled.
“You organized everything well. If nothing urgent comes up this afternoon, let’s go on the out-of-office trip together.”
“Huh…? Ah… Yes…!”
Gyeong-rok closed the approval folder and handed the materials back to her.
It was difficult to adjust to how quickly he shifted from the man who had shared her night to a workplace superior.
—
The out-of-office destination was roughly thirty minutes away by car.
Min-a sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window.
The car was quiet. The radio remained off, and Gyeong-rok offered no unnecessary conversation.
After a few brief exchanges about work, only the engine and turn-signal sounds filled the space.
Min-a fiddled with the strap of her bag resting on her lap.
It was just a normal business trip, she told herself.
Except for the fact that the man beside her was the one who had broken her apart on Friday night.
.
Her phone rang inside her bag.
Min-a’s shoulders jumped. Min-woo’s name lit up the screen.
She couldn’t bring herself to answer immediately.
Her gaze went first to Gyeong-rok. He kept his eyes on the road ahead.
“Answer it. It’s fine.”
Min-a bit down on her lip and pressed the call button.
“Yeah, Oppa.”
- Min-a-ya. Is now a good time to talk?
Min-woo’s voice on the other end was cautious.
Slower than usual, every sentence tinged with hesitation.
Just hearing it made Min-a’s chest tighten.
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
- How are you feeling? Are you having a hard time?
“I’m fine. Everything’s the same as usual.”
It was a lie. Nothing was the same.
- Your voice sounds off… Want to take the afternoon off? We can go to the hospital.
“No. It’s just… I’m in the car right now.”
The moment she spoke, the traffic light turned red.
The car slowed to a stop. Min-a pretended to look out the window.
Then Gyeong-rok’s hand moved.
At first, the motion seemed perfectly natural.
As if he were simply straightening the strap of her bag on the seat, his fingertips brushed against her knee.
Min-a’s breath caught.
- Min-a-ya? What’s wrong?
“It’s nothing.”
Min-a answered quickly, her voice unsteady.
“The car just… shook a little.”
Gyeong-rok’s hand didn’t stop.
The touch that had rested on her knee slowly slid inward along her thigh.
Min-a knew she should push it away.
But Min-woo’s voice continued through the phone.
Any strange movement, any tremor in her voice, and Min-woo would notice.
At that thought, she forced her body to stay still.
Gyeong-rok continued touching her leg with an expressionless face.
As though testing how far she could endure.
His hand didn’t press deeper right away.
It lingered on her knee before moving with deliberate slowness.
There was still time to stop him.
She could push his hand away, glare at him, or simply end the call.
But on the other end of the line, she could hear Min-woo breathing.
If she acted even slightly out of place now, he would realize something was wrong.
That thought locked her body even more rigidly in place.
Gyeong-rok took her frozen silence as permission and slowly moved his hand farther.
Min-a squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again.
“Oppa… is work going okay?”
- I’m fine. I called because I was worried about you.
Min-a’s throat closed at those words.
Worry. Min-woo was worried about her.
And yet here she was, losing her voice to another man’s touch while receiving that concern.
…Are you with Gyeong-rok hyung right now?
“Mm… We’re heading out on a business trip together.”
Min-woo’s voice trembled so noticeably that she could feel it through the speaker.
Gyeong-rok’s hand slowly parted Min-a’s legs. Still, she made no sound.
“Min-a-ssi. Could you switch to speakerphone for a moment?”
The voice was anything but professional. She still wasn’t used to it.
“Y-Yes… I’ve switched it.”
“Min-woo-ya. I’m taking Min-a-ssi out on a client visit right now.”
Gyeong-rok’s tone was warm and bright, the way one might speak to a close younger brother. Min-woo’s reply was the complete opposite.
- Ah… I see.
His voice had sunk completely, nothing like the careful tone he had used with Min-a moments earlier.
“If you’re free tonight, how about dinner? The three of us.”
- Um… Ah… All right, hyung.
The call ended shortly after. A small smile appeared on Gyeong-rok’s face.