Don't Be His Weakness
In the meantime, one of the staff members behind the counter recognized Dayeon and called out to her.
"Jeong Dayeon, right? You're here for your wallet?"
"Ah—yes. That's right. I got a call saying it was here."
"Here you go. Check and make sure nothing's missing."
"Thank you."
As Dayeon bowed her head and straightened back up, Siheon spoke.
"Are you finished here?"
"Pardon? Oh—yes..."
"Let's go. I'll give you a ride."
Afraid she might be imposing on him, Dayeon waved her hands in refusal.
"No, you really don't have to."
"It's late. It's not safe."
She had stopped by after her shift, and outside, the night had already settled into a pitch-black dark. As Dayeon glanced awkwardly toward the window, Jiwoo chimed in as well.
"She's right. A young lady shouldn't be out alone this late. Come with us."
Dayeon's gaze shifted between the two of them. The way they stood there, still arm in arm, looked far too intimate to be called mere friendship. That closeness kept needling at her, over and over.
Am I getting in their way?
Chairman Cha had wanted to marry Teacher off, hadn't he. He'd said he didn't want to marry her—but maybe this woman would have been perfectly acceptable. She was still just a child, while that woman was so much more mature, so much more polished. And from the look of her clothes alone, she was clearly wealthy. Unlike herself.
So maybe...
The thought spiraled beyond her control, until it arrived at a wedding—Siheon and Jiwoo standing side by side at the altar. Tears pricked unbidden at her eyes, and her chest went tight and hollow all at once.
A server coming out of the kitchen with a tray didn't see Dayeon and collided with her. Before she could even react, strawberry juice from a tall glass spilled down the front of her clothes. Her checkered shirt bloomed red, the sticky liquid clinging to the fabric.
"Oh my god—I'm so sorry!"
The employee set down the tray, snatched a handful of napkins from a nearby table, and rushed over, flustered.
"It's okay. I wasn't looking either."
"Still—should I call the manager?"
"I'm really fine! Could you just tell me where the restroom is?"
She said she was fine, but the corners of her eyes kept burning. She'd already been hurting, and this was the spark that set the whole thing alight.
"I'll just—step into the restroom for a second."
Forcing a smile, Dayeon fled. She'd been on the verge of crying anyway, so maybe this was for the best. She couldn't let Teacher see her like that.
The girl in the restroom mirror looked every bit as wrecked as she'd expected. She'd wiped herself down in a hurry, but clumps of strawberry juice still clung to her shoulder and across her chest.
She was wetting her hands, rubbing at the stains, when the click of heels announced someone entering the restroom. It was Jiwoo—the woman Teacher had introduced as a friend.
Jiwoo came to stand beside her, dampened a handkerchief, and began dabbing at the stains herself.
"Are you all right?"
"Ah... yes. I'm fine."
"Dayeon, was it? You're so cute. A high schooler?"
The voice was gentle. The words inside it were not. It was the tone of someone taking her age and using it to look down on her, as if she were a child—and Dayeon couldn't find a single thing to say. She only pressed her lips together, tighter and tighter. Watching her, Jiwoo let out a short laugh.
She had no particular taste for picking fights with children. But some things were better made crystal clear. Leave even a sprout that might grow into a rival, and it would only come back to catch at her ankles.
Her gaze still fixed on the stain on Dayeon's shirt, Jiwoo spoke slowly.
"If you're Siheon's student, I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on."
"Pardon?"
Marriage talks...?
At the words that slipped from the woman's mouth, Dayeon's eyes slowly widened. Jiwoo smiled sweetly at her stunned expression and continued, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"We haven't set a date yet, but we're planning to hold the ceremony within the year."
"Ah..."
She couldn't find the words. Her mouth simply wouldn't open. Marriage talks? Marriage? Had Teacher... had a lover all this time?
Reading the tremor in Dayeon's eyes, Jiwoo smiled even more brightly.
This was easy. Almost too easy.
It felt like twisting a child's wrist. Watching Dayeon misunderstand, take the wound, and come undone exactly as she'd intended—it was almost disappointing, how simple it was.
"Siheon doesn't show it, but you know he's a busy man, don't you? That he's the kind of timber meant to lead a major corporation."
"Yes..."
"That seat looks impressive from the outside, but it isn't a comfortable one. It's dangerous, and it's lonely. That's why he has to be careful about the people around him. If he has a weakness, the ones circling him will come running like stray dogs and tear into it."
Dayeon said nothing.
"My credentials. My background. My parents. Everything else I have. Love matters, of course—but sometimes you need those other things, too."
"Why... why are you suddenly telling me all this...?"
"In case you might make things uncomfortable for Siheon. If I've misread the situation, I apologize. Take your time coming out."
Jiwoo's eyes curved into a smile as she gave Dayeon's shoulder a light pat. Then, leaving behind a look that was hard to read, she walked out of the restroom.
Marriage. Teacher already had someone he was going to marry.
Left alone, Dayeon slowly lifted her eyes to the girl in the mirror. A vacant face stared back, as if the soul had gone out of it. A cheap shirt bought in an underground shopping arcade. A face without a trace of makeup. Set against the brilliance of the woman she'd just been facing, her own reflection looked even more wretched.
Jiwoo had been right. Compared to that woman, who had everything—she had nothing at all. No credentials worth boasting about. No solid background. Not even parents who loved her and stood behind her.
Would being by his side really make me Teacher's weakness?
Dayeon stepped out of the restroom a beat after Jiwoo. Siheon, who had been leaning against the wall, pushed himself upright. Jiwoo stood beside him, and the look she fixed on Dayeon was sharp, as if pressing her for an answer.
Confirming with a glance that Dayeon's clothes had been more or less put back in order, Siheon nodded.
"Shall we go."
As he started walking, Dayeon hesitated, then parted her lips.
"Teacher."
Siheon turned, looking at her as if to ask what was wrong.
"I... just remembered something I'd forgotten."
"Something you'd forgotten? At this hour?"
A glance at the darkened world outside made her hastily invented excuse feel even thinner, but it was too late to take it back.
"You've been so kind, and I'm sorry. I'll go on ahead."
With that, Dayeon headed for the elevator that had just arrived on their floor.
"Wait—Jeong Dayeon..."
"Let her go, Siheon."
Jiwoo stopped him as he moved to catch her.
"She's probably embarrassed about the stain on her clothes. Girls her age are so sensitive, you know?"
In that span of time, Dayeon had already stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. Through the closing doors, she could see Siheon and Jiwoo saying something to each other. Watching the two of them together still hurt, but Dayeon forced the feeling down.
She had been trying not to look at it, but the truth was, she'd known all along. That she and Teacher didn't belong together.
Jiwoo had been right. The nine-year age gap was one thing—but compared to Teacher, she had nothing. Nothing at all. Especially since learning he was the heir to the Samjeong Group, she had, without quite meaning to, shrunk into herself. The distance that had already been there had only felt wider.
And now, having been told she might become his weakness, it was even harder to go near him. Wasn't he her benefactor? The debt of gratitude she owed him was far too great to let her own feelings come first.
I won't burden Teacher any more than this.
Sick at heart, Dayeon got off the elevator and started walking, following the street with no destination in mind—until something touched the top of her head, and she looked up at the sky.
Raindrops were falling, one by one, onto her face. The darkening of the sky, it seemed, had not been nightfall alone.
Hollowed out, Dayeon stared up at the sky with empty eyes. She stood there in the steadily thickening rain, trying to settle the surge in her chest, when the phone in her pocket suddenly rang. It took her a long, dazed moment to register the sound and fumble for it.