Ch 43

“My baby, seriously, what should I do with you?”

At Ideun’s words, spoken with a smile, Ji-an’s ears turned bright red.

“I can dry my own hair.”

Though he had shouted in protest, his voice was much quieter as he sheepishly lowered the towel draped over his head.

“Alright.”

Even though he knew Ideun had sat down across from him, still smiling, Ji-an couldn’t bring himself to lift his head.

“Uh… you see…”

Uncharacteristically, his words were preceded by hesitant sounds—uh, um, hmm—that made it hard to express himself.

“Food.”

After finally gathering the courage to speak, Ji-an found himself chewing the rice in his mouth instead. If he just finished eating, he would say it. That was his resolution. But when he swallowed, he found himself hesitating over the side dish on his spoon. So he ate the side dish first, only for it to be too salty, making him take another bite of rice. This cycle repeated, and before he knew it, his meal was steadily disappearing.

“What is it you want to say?”

As Ji-an focused on chewing, he suddenly found Ideun watching him intently. Reflexively, he swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth and reached for water. He had been fine until now, but the moment he tried to speak, his heart started pounding.

“I…”

Once again, he hesitated.

“I’m leaving this house.”

Fearing he might lose his chance if he stalled any longer, he forced the words out all at once.

“Yeah? When?”

“I’m looking for a place.”

“Let’s go check them out together.”

Ji-an had braced himself for rejection—for Ideun to tell him no, to say he couldn’t leave—but instead, Ideun simply continued eating, his tone as calm as ever.

“We need to check how far it is from work, if the place is in good condition, if there are any issues with the property, and whether the contract is fair.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected response, Ji-an hesitated, and Ideun continued speaking.

He had always handled these things on his own. He had never run into any problems before. Most importantly, he was moving away to distance himself from Ideun—going to look at apartments together would only mean revealing his new address to him.

“I can do it alone.”

“Of course you can. But sometimes, relying on someone else isn’t a bad thing.”

Ji-an knew he couldn’t win against Ideun’s logic. Accepting help was easier, more convenient, more reassuring. But that only applied to people who didn’t understand the consequences.

If he got used to leaning on someone, to being helped, to taking the easier path, what would happen when he was left alone? He would feel lonely, like a fool. And every time he reminded himself that he had to leave Ideun, it felt like his chest was being torn apart.

“I’m quitting the company too. I listened to the project briefing yesterday, and it’s beyond my abilities. I have no experience, no relevant education, and too many shortcomings. I’m thinking of enrolling in a training program and studying more. It might not align with your standards, but I’m not in a situation where I urgently need to work. I figure I could take a year off to focus on learning.”

Once he started talking, the words spilled out effortlessly.

“Like you said, I get sick easily, and I’m not in great shape. I should take care of my health. And if I try job hunting later and it doesn’t work out, maybe I could move somewhere with nice scenery and fresh air and open a small café or something.”

All the while, Ji-an avoided looking at Ideun.

“Sure. That works too. We can take our time looking into it. And if we can’t find a place you like, you could always get a piece of land from the old man. He’s greedy—he only keeps the prime spots.”

“…What?”

“What else do you want to do?”

“I…”

“Since you’re quitting anyway, no need to go in today. I’ll print out a resignation form—fill it out now, and I’ll take care of it on my way to work. Have you spoken to a realtor yet? Found any good listings? If not, I know someone I can contact.”

“Wait, Ideun—”

“Coffee?”

There was no place for Ideun in his plans. This was something Ji-an had to handle on his own.

But before he could say that, Ideun had already gotten up. Instead, Ji-an simply gave a small nod. Fine, he would go along with it for now. He could make arrangements separately, quietly. He had plenty of time since he was leaving the company.

It was cowardly, but this way, he might be able to avoid running into Haneul. He could get everything sorted as quickly as possible and, when the time came, simply tell Haneul that he was leaving and wouldn’t be coming back. That he was sorry for making things difficult.

“Ideun.”

Still unable to meet Ideun’s gaze properly, Ji-an finally lifted his head and called his name. As expected, Ideun had been watching him the whole time. When their eyes met, Ji-an gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

And… I’m sorry. Because even at the very end, he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell Ideun the truth.

“I told you, I’ll take care of it.”

After finishing his meal, Ji-an filled out his resignation and began preparing to leave. Just as he was about to step out, Ideun stopped him, prompting Ji-an to lift his chin slightly.

“I’m not the kind of person who runs away from responsibility.”

If he submitted his resignation without even showing his face, what kind of rumors would that spark?

The rumor surrounding CEO Choi, who had briefly stepped out and disappeared during last night’s drinking gathering, had to be put to rest at all costs.

“So, you’re really going?”

“This is clearly my fault. This is all because of you!”

Wearing a backpack and putting on his shoes, Ji-an muttered sulkily as he passed by Ideun, who was still standing in the entryway. He had passed the interview but had said he wouldn’t go. But then came that absurd talk about compensation, and now things had ended up like this. Thinking about it, there had been no need for compensation in the first place. After all, the person he had mistaken for a companion had been Ideun.

This man was a complete liar who toyed with people!

As Ji-an recalled the part he hadn’t properly processed due to the chaos, the corners of his eyes sharpened. This was all—every last bit of it—because of Choi Ideun.

Why did his pheromones have to go wild and make him seek a rut partner? If not for that, he would never have met him. They would have lived their lives separately, never crossing paths… His grandmother had gone to every length possible to save her only grandchild, and that’s how things had ended up like this.

With his personality, it was unlikely that he had agreed to a rut partner so easily. He probably would have just taken sleeping pills and passed out instead. Even now, he must still believe that he had spent years in self-imposed confinement, relying on sedatives to cope with his pheromone imbalance.

Ji-an thought of Baek Sanghoon, who had frantically searched for him. No matter how much he ran, cursed, or struggled, that merciless man had always found him and pushed him back into Ideun’s bedroom.

He had even offered to return the money, to repay every bit of his aunt’s surgery expenses for the rest of his life. But instead of letting him go, the amount of money only increased. And it was all because of his secondary gender.

A scentless, recessive omega. To completely deceive Ideun, he had to erase all traces of pheromones. He had to ensure Ideun never noticed… That’s why he must have been the most suitable person.

Those damn pheromones had tangled everything. By his logic, Ideun was clearly the perpetrator. But he couldn’t bring himself to fully resent him because Ideun had been unaware of what had happened while he slept.

If only he could hate him endlessly, how easy it would be.

And maybe, just maybe, the only reason he had developed feelings for Ideun was because of pheromones. Because his body had been conditioned to respond to Ideun’s scent… This useless body of his—unable to function properly—was an omega.

If it had just ended there, he might have been able to move on. But why did they have to meet again in France?!

As a rush of emotions overwhelmed him, tears welled up in Ji-an’s eyes, and he abruptly turned his body.

“I said don’t touch me. It’s just dust in my eyes.”

“Seo Ji-an.”

“Don’t call my name. I suddenly don’t want to see you. This is all your fault. So don’t stop me no matter what I do. Don’t tell me not to do anything. I’m taking the subway to work. Don’t follow me. I’m going to do whatever I want. I’m allowed to. But you’re not. I can, but you can’t. Got it?”

Still facing away from Ideun, Ji-an didn’t hide his frustration and shouted before storming out into the hallway. Without looking back, he strode quickly toward the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, he stepped inside and immediately pressed the close button.

Only when the elevator doors had shut completely and he had pressed the button for the basement floor did Ji-an realize—there were no footsteps following him.

With his head lowered, he let out a long sigh and roughly wiped his face with his hands.

“Idiot. He really didn’t come.”

The commute from home to work was just two subway stops. By the time he arrived, Ji-an’s face had returned to its usual expression. His eyes and the tip of his nose were slightly red, but he could easily blame it on the cold.

At 2 PM, the start of his scheduled shift, Ji-an entered the design office and handed his resignation letter to the team leader with his head bowed. As his colleagues looked at him in shock, he awkwardly greeted them before stepping out. He felt relieved to learn that Haneul had stepped away for an errand.

Walking sluggishly down the hallway toward the elevator, Ji-an’s footsteps gradually slowed.

It wasn’t as if he had deliberately peeked through the slightly open conference room door.

Inside, two people stood facing each other—one in a bright yellow top, the other dressed in black.

“No, it’s just, Secretary Baek…”

Hearing that common yet uncommon title made Ji-an stop in his tracks.

And the person in the yellow top—was Haneul.

“So, do you work here?”

The voice of someone Ji-an neither wanted to recall nor remember.

“I’m just an intern.”

Listening to Haneul’s cheerful voice, Ji-an’s gaze moved sluggishly. His fingertips trembled. He hadn’t even noticed that the soft skin inside his mouth had split from being bitten too hard.

When he saw the man in black—head to toe—Ji-an staggered.

His breath hitched, and his body swayed. He barely avoided collapsing outright by flailing his arm and catching himself against the wall.

His vision blurred, and his stomach churned. Ji-an instinctively covered his mouth with his hand before quickly leaving the scene.

“But Secretary Baek, how do you know Ji-an? He’s my college classmate. We’re both interns in the design team now.”

“He was the guardian of a patient who received medical sponsorship from the chairman.”

“You even remember things like that? Secretary Baek, is there anything you don’t know? So, you’ll grant my request, right?”

“…That is beyond my authority.”

“You know my grandmother best, Secretary Baek. My dad prepared something for her, and we need to deliver our New Year’s greetings. Please, just let me meet her briefly when she has time.”

“We’ll see.”

Haneul, having maintained a bright expression, adjusted his expression slightly at Baek’s continued formality and rigid attitude.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave, Mr. Noh Haneul.”

Unlike before, Baek’s tone carried a certain sternness.

Haneul stepped a little closer to him.

“There was something on your jacket…”

He whispered quickly, barely loud enough for Baek to hear, before brushing off a speck of dust from the hem of Baek’s black blazer. Then, he left the conference room first.

Alone in the room,Chief  Baek’s lips curved into a lopsided smirk.

A rare sight—an unmistakable sneer—had surfaced on his face.

After stepping out for a brief moment, he had returned to find quite the amusing situation unfolding.

“I’ll invite you for a meal soon. Please make sure to accept. That’s not a difficult request, is it? If you come, I’ll gift you an account.”

That nonsense about dust on his jacket had just been an excuse.

What he had truly wanted to say was that.