Flower Fiancé Chapter 47

What caught his eye was an old diary. Opening the glass door and pulling out the diary by its corner, Choi Moohyuk looked toward the bathroom door from which the sound of water was flowing.

He knew Ji Yeonwoo wouldn’t like it if he read it without permission, but still, he was curious about what was inside. Seeing how worn it was, it seemed like a diary he’d been keeping for quite a long time, and it occurred to him that there was a good chance it contained things about Ji Yeonwoo that Choi Moohyuk didn’t know.

Choi Moohyuk slowly opened the diary. Flipping to a random page, the entry began with the date and that day’s weather.

[ April 7, 2020, Clear ]

He hasn’t come for the second day.

Maybe that’s a relief.

Being alone is only lonely, but being with him adds pain to the loneliness.

As he read with his eyes, Choi Moohyuk’s expression gradually hardened. Without needing an explanation, he could tell who “he” referred to in the diary.

[ June 22, 2020, Rain ]

Looks like this year’s monsoon season will be brutal.

It’s already been raining for three days.

My body won’t obey me.

Lonely, sick… I want to sleep….

Isn’t there some kind of medicine that makes you forget everything when you wake up?

Most of the diary was filled with words expressing pain and loneliness. As the thin pages fluttered and turned one by one, the words that followed were enough to make anyone feel depressed and pained just by reading them.

Then, from after the monsoon season until that autumn, the dates in the diary abruptly stopped. Of course, it wasn’t a diary written every day. But considering he had written at least once a week, it seemed strange enough that he hadn’t written a single word for several months.

It wasn’t as if he’d run out of space either. Despite there being plenty of blank pages remaining, the unbroken dates ended with the entry written a few pages later as the final one.

[ November 16, 2020, Rain ]

It’s raining again today.

At this point, I clearly have ill fate with rainy days.

Today, he let me go.

I… have finally become free from this tiresome pheromone.

Yes, everything started with that damn superior omega title and pheromone.

So I won’t look for the cause of losing my pheromone, and I’ll live like this as a flawed omega.

I won’t open this diary again after this record, but the reason I’m leaving this is…

To not forgive my past self.

To remember clearly what you lost because of your foolishness, and how your life fell into an abyss worse than hell.

So that you never repeat the same mistake again.

This is all your fault for being deceived by a moment’s flutter.

Frowning, Choi Moohyuk brushed his finger over the stained spots here and there. As if they were tear stains, the round, wrinkled spots transmitted a rough texture through his fingertip as it passed over them.

“Managing Director, what are you doing?”

Just then, Ji Yeonwoo’s voice came from behind him. Startled, Choi Moohyuk closed the diary and turned around. Ji Yeonwoo, who had finished showering at some point, was standing behind Choi Moohyuk in loose shirt and pants he wore at home.

“Ah, I’m sorry for looking without permission. I was looking at the bookshelf and found this.”

Choi Moohyuk turned toward Ji Yeonwoo and showed him the diary in his hand. Ji Yeonwoo looked greatly surprised at the sight of the diary, but it was only for a moment.

“Why, of all the books, did you pick this one? It’s not exactly pleasant.”

Glancing at Choi Moohyuk with reproachful eyes, Ji Yeonwoo took the diary from his hand and put it back in its place.

“Do you remember everything written in there?”

Standing with his back to Choi Moohyuk, Ji Yeonwoo closed the glass door of the bookshelf. His hand, pressed against the glass door, lingered for a moment over where the diary was placed, then he turned around.

“Half I remember, half I don’t. I rarely wrote in it when I was in my right mind.”

Ji Yeonwoo smiled bitterly as he looked at Choi Moohyuk. Droplets of water were still falling from his not-yet-dry hair, soaking his shoulders.

Watching that sight, Choi Moohyuk took Ji Yeonwoo’s hand and led him toward the bed. Ji Yeonwoo followed as Choi Moohyuk guided him. The soft patter of their footsteps across the floor echoed through the quiet house.

Choi Moohyuk sat Ji Yeonwoo on the bed, parted his closed legs, and positioned himself between them. Picking up the towel in Ji Yeonwoo’s hand, he gently draped it over the wet hair.

“You must have had a very hard time when you lost your pheromone.”

Choi Moohyuk asked as he dried the wet hair with the towel.

“It was hard. Because my body felt so terrible.”

“In what way did it feel terrible?”

“Well, that…”

Ji Yeonwoo, about to speak, paused and closed his mouth. His reddish lips, half-hidden beneath the towel, pressed tightly together, then he tilted his head back.

“But you said you’d tell me about yourself today, Managing Director.”

The hand drying his wet hair paused.

“Even if you try to change the subject, I’m not letting it slide this time.”

Choi Moohyuk laughed silently. He could see the determination that today, he would definitely find out more about Choi Moohyuk than he would talk about himself.

“What are you so curious about?”

He asked as he removed the towel that had been drying his hair. A vitality that had never been seen before sparkled in Ji Yeonwoo’s eyes.

“Hmm, what you like, Managing Director, what you dislike, and… your past, Managing Director. Everything about you.”

Is that all you’re curious about—such trivial things? With that innocence, how did you ever run a business? Choi Moohyuk lightly pinched Ji Yeonwoo’s cheek, which was full of anticipation.

“Aren’t you going to sleep? You said you have work tomorrow.”

“You said you’d tell me what I’m curious about.”

Ji Yeonwoo grumbled as he rubbed his sore cheek.

“Choose just one. I’ll tell you the rest later.”

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, then…”

Drawing out his words as if thinking, Ji Yeonwoo met his eyes.

“Tell me something other than that earlier one.”

Choi Moohyuk’s eyes widened as he looked at Ji Yeonwoo.

“I want to know what happened at the main house.”

∞ ∞ ∞

“Were you that curious about that?”

At the gentle inquiry, Ji Yeonwoo nodded. It seemed that what he’d really been curious about, more than the things mentioned earlier, was the time when he couldn’t reach Choi Moohyuk.

“Well, it’s not hard to tell you. But it might upset you—is that okay?”

Unexpectedly, Choi Moohyuk readily agreed. Ji Yeonwoo, who had thought it would be difficult to talk about, was rather flustered as he asked back.

“Does that… include things that might upset me?”

“Depending on how you look at it.”

“…”

“Still want to hear it?”

After hesitating for a moment, Ji Yeonwoo nodded.

“Yes. I want to hear it.”

Climbing onto the bed, Choi Moohyuk leaned back against the headboard at an angle. Ji Yeonwoo pulled his pillow close beside Choi Moohyuk and lay down.

Slightly crossing his long outstretched legs, Choi Moohyuk touched Ji Yeonwoo’s damp hair as he lay pressed against his thigh and continued speaking.

“Whenever I go to the main house, I always end up arguing with the Chairman.”

“Your relationship isn’t good?”

“Yes. It’s never been good, but for the past few years, there’s been one thing the Chairman won’t bend on.”

Ji Yeonwoo’s hair rustled softly, spreading a faint scent of shampoo. Feeling as though it was just like Ji Yeonwoo’s pheromone, he recalled his private meeting with his father, Chairman Choi.

‘They say you’re seeing someone these days?’

The grains of rice going down his throat felt like grains of sand. He hadn’t particularly wanted to eat, but after calling him over and dragging him around here and there for a long time, Chairman Choi had eventually insisted he stay for dinner as well.

Just as the food felt stuck in his throat and he was about to take a spoonful of soup, Chairman Choi’s voice rang through the austere dining room, and Choi Moohyuk’s expression froze coldly.

‘Now you’re even having people investigated?’

‘Don’t belittle a father’s interest in his son.’

‘You should speak properly. It’s not interest in your son—it’s interest in the superior alpha trait, isn’t it?’

‘You know that, and yet you’re pouring that superior alpha trait into some nobody with no background?’

‘Father!’