A Child Who Resembles Me [EN]: Chapter 11

After being gently chided by my friend Seung-gyu,

Ji-heon found himself standing before the elevator trash can once more.

The paper bag containing the item he’d discarded was still there, untouched.

He reached in and retrieved the box from the bag.

A card was attached. He opened it.

– Thank you for the invitation. I will learn a lot and become a wonderful person. Enjoy the cookies!

His brow furrowed as he deciphered the awkwardly written words. He considered discarding the card as well but ultimately slipped it into his pocket. Back in his office, Ji-heon opened the box to inspect its contents.

Inside were brown cookies studded with various nuts. Their appearance was as unappealing as he’d anticipated.

Nevertheless, Ji-heon picked up a cookie without hesitation and tore open the plastic wrapper.

He placed the cookie in his mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately.

The taste wasn’t unpleasant.

He typically declined food gifts, but he’d accepted this one out of politeness. Knowing he wouldn’t see the children and their caretaker from the orphanage again, he’d discarded it without a second thought.

Discarding gifts was a common occurrence, and it never bothered him. Until *she* appeared.

“How could you throw that away?”

It wasn’t just that she’d spoken informally [using a less honorific speech level].

Somehow, her tone, her intonation, her very timbre, seemed to convey more than simple resentment.

And the sincerity he saw in her trembling eyes.

It was as if she were demanding, ‘Why are you living like this?’

How could a mere employee dare to confront a company executive so boldly?

If she had an ulterior motive, she was remarkably cunning; if it was pure sincerity, she was incredibly audacious.

Later that afternoon,

Ji-heon encountered Jeong-oh again in the break room.

She approached him urgently, firing off a question before he could speak.

“…Do you know who I am?”

“I know.”

“…”

“Copywriter Lee Jeong-oh.”

“…Is there anything else besides that?”

He couldn’t quite grasp her meaning.

It sounded like a reprimand for grabbing the wrist of a woman he barely knew, or perhaps a veiled accusation about something he’d overlooked.

Neither possibility appealed to him. Ji-heon disliked being manipulated by anyone.

More than anything, he didn’t want to reveal that his composure was gradually crumbling.

“Is there anything else I *need* to know?”

“…”

“Rather than that, I’d like to discuss what happened this morning.”

He decided to seize control of the conversation before she could utter anything more perplexing.

*You questioned how I could throw it away. So, I picked it up.*

But then, a large tear escaped her eye.

She’s crying? Why?

Ji-heon, who had been prepared to deliver a cutting retort, found himself at a loss.

What on earth is the problem *now*?

He frowned, mentally retracing his steps.

He suddenly felt uneasy about Seung-gyu having taken her away.

Did Seung-gyu frighten her?

He’d assumed Park Seung-gyu would handle the situation with tact, but it seemed he’d been harsher than expected.

It was something Seung-gyu had done to protect him, but he didn’t feel entirely comfortable about it.

But aside from that, he thought the woman was pretty. For the first time.

The woman was crying. And that vulnerable state stirred something within him.

He wanted to watch her cry like this for hours in a confined space, in his office with the door firmly closed.

But was it *just* tears that he wanted to see?

“Oppa [term for older brother used by females; also used to address male friends or romantic interests], you were here?”

At that moment, a voice echoed from the break room entrance. It was Chae Eun-bi.

Ji-heon quickly lowered the hand he had unconsciously raised toward Jeong-oh.

Jeong-oh also seemed flustered, hastily wiping away her tears. Nevertheless, her eyes remained red.

Was she very upset? He should have asked.

“Oppa. Didn’t I tell you? Lee Jeong-oh is my friend. A high school classmate.”

While he was feeling awkward, Eun-bi grabbed his arm.

“Jeong-oh, what’s wrong?”

“Ah, no, I just came to see some books.”

Jeong-oh answered, stiffly turning her head away.

Ji-heon knew it was an excuse.

“What books?”

“Books to reference for liquor advertisements.”

“Oh my, Jeong-oh, let’s speak casually when it’s just us. You’re not doing this on purpose to make me uncomfortable, are you?”

“Ah, no. No. I’ll go now.”

She answered Eun-bi’s question vaguely and hurried away, as if fleeing from something.

After Jeong-oh left, Ji-heon and Eun-bi were left alone, their arms separating as well.

An uncomfortable question lingered for Eun-bi.

What on earth was *that*? It seemed like there was some history there.

Lee Jeong-oh was blushing in front of Ji-heon, and Ji-heon was frozen.

“Oppa, what’s wrong? Did Lee Jeong-oh say something to you?”

As expected, Ji-heon didn’t answer. He never gave her the answers she wanted.

Eun-bi was used to not getting hurt by these things.

“I’m just saying this in case, but don’t trust Lee Jeong-oh too much. She’s not someone you can trust with anything.”

His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

“Back in high school, she secretly touched my cosmetics. Then she acted like she didn’t do it. All my friends knew, but she kept denying it, so it was a bit scary.”

“…”

“I think she’s fixed her habits a lot now, but anyway, Oppa, be careful.”

He showed no reaction. He simply lowered his gaze and stared at the ring on her left ring finger.

She had been bragging to people that it was a ring he had given her. Ji-heon, of course, was unaware of this.

Feeling unnecessarily uneasy, Eun-bi hid her left hand behind her back.

Nevertheless, his intense gaze didn’t waver.

There were times when she felt chilled by his gaze, which seemed to overwhelm his opponent, and yet, his expression remained devoid of emotion.

But today.

“You too. Chae Eun-bi.”

“…”

“Don’t cross the line.”

It seemed like something more was brewing beneath the surface.

Eun-bi also felt a surge of emotion.

After Ji-heon left, Eun-bi stood there for a long time.

‘We’re just pretending to date because we don’t want those annoying people to bother us.’

Four years ago, rumors about Eun-bi and Ji-heon’s relationship had begun to circulate among their acquaintances. Using that as an opportunity, Eun-bi proposed a nominal relationship to Ji-heon, and he accepted. It was likely an attempt to escape the unwanted attention of those around them.

In any case, their interests aligned well, and the arrangement had continued smoothly until now.

At the company, Eun-bi also capitalized on her relationship with Ji-heon. She boasted about receiving all kinds of affection from him, wore a pretty ring and implied that Ji-heon had bought it for her, and even browsed wedding gifts as if she were about to get married.

She had been enjoying herself immensely, but then Ji-heon unexpectedly joined Max Planning as an executive.

At first, she was terrified of being exposed as a fraud. But Ji-heon, surprisingly, remained silent.

She couldn’t tell if he was feigning ignorance or if he genuinely didn’t know. However, as always, Ji-heon remained indifferent to her.

Truly just a nominal, fake lover.

Nevertheless, Eun-bi was playing her part perfectly. She called Mrs. Jang Young-mi twice a week, flattering her and cultivating her favor. Young-mi already considered Eun-bi as her future daughter-in-law.

Thus, Eun-bi’s expectations had solidified into a certainty.

Although she and Ji-heon were currently in an awkward phase, she was certain that one day she would become his wife.

The certainty that he would be hers.

Jeong Ji-heon was the man who would elevate her status the most.

There were rumors, but upon closer inspection, his relationships with women were so nonexistent that people were left speechless. Whatever his personal quirks, Jeong Ji-heon would likely remain single. Therefore, she was the only one who could become his wife.

Like today, she just needed to chase away those pesky gnats like Lee Jeong-oh.

Ji-heon remained oblivious to Eun-bi’s machinations.

* * * * * * * * *

Evening arrived.

Jeong-oh sat at her desk, reviewing the materials for her assigned project.

She was participating in a competitive presentation, so she was stuck working overtime starting today. Sitting still only amplified her thoughts.

Jeong Ji-heon and Chae Eun-bi. To think she would see those two together.

Unaware of their connection, she had almost revealed everything about Yena to Ji-heon.

Even if it wasn’t amnesia, seven years was ample time for the world to change.

Hoo…

Drrrrr.

Her phone vibrated, interrupting her sigh. It was a call from her mother, Lee Guk-soon.

She realized, belatedly, that she hadn’t called home while working late.

She had been so shaken by encountering Ji-heon and Eun-bi in the same space that she had been completely distracted.

Jeong-oh rose from her seat and quickly answered the phone.

“Hello.”

[Are you working late?]

“Yeah. Where’s Yena?”

[She’s been whining about wanting ice cream, so I told her I’d buy her some after dinner, and she said she hates Grandma.]

“Pfft.”

Imagining her daughter’s expression brought comfort to her troubled heart.

[Are you happy? Your granddaughter hates her grandma?]

“Mom, you’re laughing too.”

[Have you eaten?]

“Yeah. You don’t have to worry about my meals.”

“Well, okay,” Guk-soon said with a soft laugh.

[Oh, and that hair clip was at the restaurant. I found it.]

“Huh? What hair clip?”

[The purple one that’s round and long. The one with the jewel at the end. The one you were looking for.]

“When?”

[It must have been about a year ago.]

“Why are you telling me about it now, after a year? I would have forgotten it by now.”

[You might forget, but how could I forget when you talked about it so much?]

“…Did I?”

[You looked for it so hard back then, how could you forget it?]

“I guess it wasn’t that important.”

[If you’re not going to wear it, that’s fine. I’ll have to wear it.]

While the mother was thinking about her daughter, the daughter was preoccupied with another man.

The forgotten hair clip became a metaphor for her life.

Was Lee Jeong-oh like that hair clip to Jeong Ji-heon?

Lost without even realizing it was gone, and never sought after again. Like a useless memory?

Not just a year, but someone from seven years ago.

*I should have forgotten you too. I was sad that I couldn’t.*

Past love is like broken glass. It’s already useless, but it sparkles unnecessarily.

Even knowing that the glass shards will hurt me, I keep reaching out. Foolishly.

That’s why I keep getting sadder.

The mother, sensing her silent daughter was busy, ended the call.

[Are you going to be late tonight?]

“No. Not too late. It’s the first day of the presentation.”

[Okay. Don’t work too hard and work in a cool place. It’s very hot today.]

“Yeah. Don’t worry.”

Jeong-oh hung up the phone cheerfully.

The meeting would start soon.

Eun-bi beckoned to Jeong-oh, who was about to head to the conference room.

“Ms. Lee Jeong-oh.”

Since they were in the same division and their teams were adjacent, she would likely encounter Chae Eun-bi frequently in the future. Collaborations like this were common.

If she intended to continue working at this company, she needed to overcome her discomfort.

Jeong-oh steeled herself and approached Eun-bi.

“Ms. Lee Jeong-oh, you’re attending the competitive presentation meeting as well, correct?”

“Yes, Manager.”

“Could you take these to the conference room?”

Eun-bi indicated three laptops. They weren’t particularly heavy, even combined, but they appeared to be personal devices.

“They’re needed for the meeting.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Jeong-oh nodded and picked up the three laptops. They were indeed lightweight. She turned to leave for the conference room, but Eun-bi called out to her again.

“Ms. Lee Jeong-oh.”

“Yes.”

“Is something bothering you?”

“Pardon? No.”

“But your expression seems a bit off.”

*My expression?* Jeong-oh blinked.

“You’re not upset that I asked you to do something, are you?”

“Not at all.”

Jeong-oh shook her head firmly.

She genuinely wasn’t bothered?

But Eun-bi’s expression clouded over.

“Ms. Lee Jeong-oh, if you become flustered and agitated over trivial matters, it could create friction.”

Jeong-oh was taken aback by Eun-bi’s scolding tone.

*What’s so significant about carrying laptops? I’m truly fine.*

Rather, Eun-bi’s comment made her feel as though she was being reprimanded for an unwarranted outburst. She felt embarrassed and wronged.

Finally, Eun-bi sighed dramatically and retrieved the laptops from Jeong-oh’s grasp.

“I’ll carry these myself. Cheer up.”

Her voice was gentle, devoid of any harshness.

The eyes of those nearby turned cold as they witnessed Eun-bi’s seemingly angelic response.