CHAPTER 16
When Noeul stepped out of the bathroom, he heard the door close behind him.
A moment later, the sound of running water echoed through the apartment.
He assumed it was now Chung-Hee’s turn to shower.
By the time Chung-Hee returned, Noeul had wrapped himself in the bathrobe and was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out over the rain-soaked city.
“It seems you like the view from my apartment,” Chung-Hee remarked, breaking the silence.
“It could become a beautiful painting,” Noeul replied softly.
Chung-Hee stepped behind him and began drying his damp hair with a towel. “You really don’t know how to take care of yourself.”
Noeul said nothing.
“Have you been painting long?” Chung-Hee asked, setting the towel aside before opening the sushi box. “Come. Let’s eat.”
The smell alone sharpened Noeul’s hunger. He sat opposite Chung-Hee without hesitation. “I’ve been painting for as long as I can remember,” he answered at last.
When Chung-Hee offered him the first piece of sushi, Noeul hesitated only briefly before leaning forward to take it. Being fed still felt strange. Yet, despite everything that had happened between them, he found himself grateful for these quiet moments.
“Chung-Hee hyung…”
“Yes?”
“The money in my account…” Noeul stopped himself. He didn’t want Chung-Hee to think he was accusing him. Nor did he want to ruin the rare peace that had settled between them. “It took me a year to save it.” He lowered his eyes. “Is there… anything left?”
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Chung-Hee slowly set his glass of water on the table. “You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?” he asked quietly. “To shake me off like a burden.”
Noeul looked up, startled. “No.” His voice came out almost as a whisper. “I was saving that money for Ji-Woo.” The words became harder to say. “I wanted to leave him something… even if I wasn’t around anymore.” He forced himself to continue. “For university.”
Chung-Hee studied him for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. “The insurance you had in the U.S. didn’t cover everything,” he said evenly. “Between the hospital, surgery, and the rest of the expenses, there isn’t much left.”
It was a lie. Noeul’s savings were still there, but Chung-Hee had no intention of telling him that. As long as Noeul believed he had nothing, he would have fewer ways to leave and one more reason to depend on him.
The loss hit Noeul all at once. A year of work. Gone. How was he supposed to help Ji-Woo now? How could he ease even a fraction of the burden he believed he had left behind?
Before panic could take hold, Chung-Hee spoke again. “My company is planning to hire red teamers. With your qualifications and experience, I’d be happy to hire you.”
For the first time since entering the apartment, relief washed through Noeul.
“You could start in about six weeks, assuming the doctor approves,” he continued. “Part-time at first, then gradually move into a full-time position.” He picked up another piece of sushi. “But…”
The single word lingered between them. “But?” Noeul asked quietly.
Without a word, Chung-Hee lifted another sushi roll to his lips. Noeul leaned forward and took it. “Seventy percent of your salary will go into a savings account while you work for me. I’ll oversee it.”
The sushi suddenly lost its taste. “No.” Noeul shook his head. “That percentage is excessive. I’d be left with almost nothing. How am I supposed to live? What if something urgent comes up? What if I want a coffee… or painting supplies?” His voice tightened. “I’m not a beggar.”
The warmth left Chung-Hee’s face. “What did I tell you about speaking to me like that? Is that really the tone you want to use with me right now?”
Noeul lowered his eyes. “…I’m sorry.” He drew in several slow breaths before speaking again. “When would I be able to use the savings?” Even as he asked, he already knew the answer. If he accepted Chung-Hee’s conditions, walking away later would become far more difficult.
“I’ll oversee the savings,” Chung-Hee replied evenly. “If you need something, tell me. San will take care of it.”
“What?” He frowned. “No… why?” His confusion quickly turned to disbelief. “Why would you want that? You want to humiliate me?”
“Humiliate you?” Chung-Hee gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Is that honestly what you think?” He set his chopsticks down.
“I was the one who found you when you were a step away from death.” His voice remained calm.
“I brought you home. I opened my home to you. I washed you. I fed you.” Each sentence landed with deliberate precision.
“And now I’m offering you a well-paid job so you can help your brother.
” He nodded toward the private elevator.
“If you think that’s humiliation… you’re free to leave. ”
“That’s my offer,” Chung-Hee said at last, his voice quieter but no less firm. “There’s no room for negotiation.” He held Noeul’s gaze. “Take it… or leave it.”
Noeul walked to the window. Beyond the glass, rain blurred the lights of Seoul into streaks of color, but he barely saw them.
He wanted his freedom. That much was certain.
Yet another part of him refused to let go.
Guilt. Regret. The desperate hope that somehow, one day, he might earn forgiveness.
To Noeul, Chung-Hee was the last person who still connected him to Haneul.
The last person whose forgiveness seemed to matter. And the man who had saved his life.
He closed his eyes. “I have one condition.” When Chung-Hee didn’t interrupt, he continued. “Open an account in my name with enough money to get me through until I start working.” He turned to face him. “And forty percent goes into that account instead of thirty.”
Silence. Then Chung-Hee gave a single nod.
A short while later, Chung-Hee had changed into a dark suit and was preparing to leave for work. He looked every bit the CEO again. Composed. Immaculate. Untouchable. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement,” he said, picking up a pair of trousers. “Come here.”
Noeul stepped closer without speaking. Carefully, Chung-Hee helped him get dressed. Noeul hated how natural it was beginning to feel.
He didn’t see Chung-Hee again that day. Late that night, the quiet hum of the private elevator announced his return.
Noeul considered greeting him, but the thought faded almost as quickly as it came.
He wasn’t someone Chung-Hee particularly wanted around.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
The following morning, the apartment was empty once again. A steaming cappuccino waited on the kitchen counter. Beside it lay a bank card, his name already printed on it. Chung-Hee had kept his promise.
Noeul picked it up. The smooth piece of plastic felt strangely heavy in his hands. It wasn’t just a bank card. It was a reminder. He belonged to him.