At the End of That Memory Chapter 39

I turned 14 around the time I started middle school, five years after my father adopted me.

Upon entering the school, my status as Chairman Jung Chulho’s adopted child preceded me, leading to widespread recognition among both students and teachers responsible for me. However, the attention wasn’t solely due to my affiliation with a chaebol family.

“He’s a dominant Omega.”

Nationwide, the Alpha to Omega ratio stands at roughly 3%. Most were recessive, with only a 3% minority being dominant. Being a rare and distinctive individual, it was natural for others to regard me with curiosity.

“He’s certainly not like everyone else.”

I stood out from the crowd. That statement came my way three times daily, without exaggeration. Whether it was during my freshman representative speech, at the start of the semester when I assumed the temporary class president role, or when my initial midterm grades were disclosed.

“I envy that; I wish I had a special trait too.”

All my efforts ended up being attributed to possessing a unique trait. It wasn’t an unjustified observation. Scientifically, it was established that my genes surpassed Beta’s in terms of distinct attributes. However, the issue arose as the expectations and standards placed upon me became as stringent as those assessments.

When I excelled, I was labeled as an Omega, but if I erred, I faced criticism for not possessing an extraordinary trait. In reality, I was just like any other person, with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Yet, others would react with astonishment, as if I were an extraterrestrial.

“What’s exceptional about him anyway?”

Certainly, I was aware back then that some kids were casting unwelcoming glances my way. While there wasn’t outright bullying, there were occasional moments of minor resentment. Ultimately, it all seemed like a transient conflict that would fade away in due course.

“He doesn’t need to stress about his future career.”

Even as I progressed into high school, the labels of ‘Haesin Financial Group’ and ‘Dominant Omega’ remained attached to me like persistent tags. My future university and career were predetermined by public assumptions. Without a moment to contemplate my own career path, I found myself unwittingly following the trail my father had already laid out.

Despite their jealousy, the future ahead wasn’t as picturesque as they imagined. The role my father had carved out for me merely served as a base for Haeshin’s success. My thoughts and decisions held no sway in that sphere.

When I turned 29, I wed Kwon Yido. The only future aspiration I dared to discuss was my childhood dream of becoming a perfumer.

Yet, I never harbored any expectation of obtaining even that goal.

“…A perfume workshop?”

A few days had passed since the inauguration. It was a typical morning when Kwon Yido, sharing breakfast with me, unexpectedly posed a question. “Would you be interested in attending a perfume workshop?”

“Yes, you mentioned wanting to experiment with perfume-making.”

He responded in a relaxed manner, glancing over at me. Even that day, he was impeccably dressed, his hair slicked back neatly. The formal straight tie might have seemed rigid, but it exuded a sense of seriousness.

“Oh, that time…”

Furrowing my brows, I reminisced about the day I had a conversation with Kwon Yido. It was during our drive in the car he had purchased for me, while we were admiring the night view of the Han River.

“Is there something you want to do, Jung Sejin?”

He inquired about my desires, and when I requested a week to consider, he proposed the idea of trying perfume-making. Although I remained silent, he likely sensed my interest.

“There’s a skilled perfumer who conducts something akin to a tutorial at a perfume workshop. If you’re open to it, it might be enjoyable to explore for the experience.”

Was it an invitation or a suggestion? It didn’t seem like an offhand remark. Well, considering his track record, he hadn’t made any unfulfilled promises up to that point.

“What bad plans are you brewing…”

Laughter bubbled up involuntarily. The thoughtfulness he exhibited brought back his earlier mention of wanting to win my favor. When I initially arrived at our home, he expressed a desire for something from me. Perhaps it was akin to the request to ‘take his side.’

“Sounds intriguing.”

With a faint smile, Kwon Yido’s demeanor turned nuanced. He set aside his chopsticks and lowered his gaze slightly.

“This is the first time Jung Sejin hasn’t opposed my proposal with words.”

“…”

Had I consistently declined his suggestions before? No, it was unavoidable. Kwon Yido’s proposals often came with an unwelcome weight. It felt like if I accepted everything, my plate would be too full to digest properly.

“…I suppose it was an area that caught my interest.”

“Yes, I believe it’s fortunate.”

He lightened his tone as if making a jest before adding a gentle comment.

“If you feel inclined, you could go today. However, upon your return, the Team Leader will accompany you.”

Was it necessary to go with Lee Taeseong? I perceived it as excessive caution, yet I gave a slight nod.

“It’s not surveillance, it’s ensuring your safety.”

“…”

My brow furrowed slightly. This time, it appeared he wasn’t joking.

“…It was a slip of the tongue back then.”

“Well, I don’t put much faith in such remarks.”

The words seemed unusually drawn out. I couldn’t believe he still recalled when I asked for CCTV if he intended to surveil me. As I bashfully averted my gaze, I heard his distinctive, gentle voice.

“Regardless, don’t feel obliged; just give it a chance. Since it’s for the public, the explanation will be thorough, and it might be enjoyable in its own right.”

“Ah…”

It was an immensely appealing proposition, but numerous hurdles stood in the way. It wasn’t a matter of pity or regret for me; rather, I seemed hesitant when he set the stage for me.

“Could I take a day to consider it?”

It wasn’t a concern to dwell on for an extended period. The proposal intrigued me, and since it isn’t a tangible matter, handling it isn’t challenging. As he pointed out, I wasn’t confined, so traveling lightly wouldn’t be an issue, right?

“Sure. You requested a week before, and now it’s just about one day.”

Thankfully, Kwon Yido agreed without hesitation. It appeared he had anticipated my acceptance. We carried on with our meal, avoiding the subject until we were done eating.

Once the meal was over, I walked to the front door to bid Kwon Yido farewell. Just as he was about to leave, he glanced at his wristwatch and murmured softly. Then, turning to me, he uttered these words.

“Hyeyul is coming next week.”

“Ah, if it’s Hyeyul…”

It was a name I knew well. The name belonged to the art museum under the Seonho Foundation and the daughter of Kwon Yikyung, Kwon Yido’s elder sister. She was among the rare female Alphas and the one who grappled with a steak the size of my face during the engagement day.

“Will Kwon Yido’s nephew be visiting?”

Though she was young, I didn’t dare disregard her authority. Hence, I used a respectful term, which prompted a light chuckle from Kwon Yido, finding my approach amusing.

“You can simply call her Hyeyul. She usually visits the gallery once a month, so it’s that time again.”

The painting Kwon Yido referred to was likely the creation of a renowned artist he frequently acquired. These artworks were valued at several billion won, and it seemed more like an investment strategy than a specific hobby. Since paintings are tax-exempt items, my father would occasionally purchase them without necessarily knowing their details.

“Does Hyeyul have a fondness for paintings?”

“Perhaps it’s because she takes after her father; she has a keen eye for these things.”

Kwon Hyeyul’s father, Shin Daewoong, served as the director of the Hyeyul Art Museum under the Seonho Foundation. I’ve heard that he graduated from an art school himself and possesses exceptional artistic skills. It was rumored that he fell for his spouse, Kwon Yikyung, while viewing an exhibition together.

“I suppose you have a good relationship with your family, given their monthly visits to see you.”

“Well… usually?”

“Usually.” It was a term that didn’t quite suit Kwon Yido. I recalled the casual way he referred to them as ‘brother-in-law’ on the engagement day. Unlike Kwon Yijung, the rest of the family members seemed to have a positive relationship, as public perception suggested.

“Jung Sejin, there’s no need to worry. You can proceed as usual, so don’t feel pressured. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t even have to greet them.”

“No… It’s not to that extent.”

I was grateful for the thoughtfulness, yet I recognized it wouldn’t be courteous. Despite our engagement being discreet, I couldn’t feign ignorance toward guests visiting our home.

“Will they arrive while you’re at work?”

“I believe so…”

“I hope Hyeyul enjoys the greenhouse as well.”

I offered a soft smile as I glanced at him. I had no plans to leave a 7-year-old child alone in this expansive house. The staff would be present, but as an adult, I felt a basic responsibility to be there.

“…Yes, you mentioned enjoying time with kids.”

Kwon Yido erupted into laughter, his lips gently curling as if he couldn’t help it.

“I’ll ask for a favor when Hyeyul visits. She won’t be a bother.”

The dignity of Kwon Hyeyul was evident to me, especially on the engagement day. Throughout that lengthy event, she didn’t complain even once. Though I didn’t know much, it seemed she must have had a rather disciplined upbringing.

“Will you be working late again today?”

Now it was truly time for Kwon Yido to head to work. He took the bag from the staff and wore a slightly apologetic expression, his brow furrowing.

“Please don’t wait for me to eat. I’ll be working late this entire week.”

Even after the founding ceremony concluded, Kwon Yido’s hectic routine remained unchanged. The only improvement was his return to having breakfast with me. He would slip back home unnoticed after leaving from work, appearing downstairs impeccably dressed as soon as the sun rose.

“Take care.”

I glanced at the ring on his left hand and bid him farewell warmly. Kwon Yido extended his hand slightly toward me, lightly touched the area around my cheek, and then departed. There was a hint of regret in his expression, but apart from that, there was no sense of familial closeness.

“I’ll be back.”

No matter how many times I witnessed Kwon Yido departing from the house, I never grew accustomed to it. What remained strange was the sudden pang I felt the moment he turned away from me. The profound silence that enveloped the space once the door closed.

“…”

Out of habit, I twiddled with the ring on my finger—the engagement ring I started wearing again before the imprint faded. It left a faint mark on me, yet upon closer inspection, it seemed nothing lingered on Kwon Yido. Perhaps because he wore a ring at home but went out empty-handed.

“…I’m still unsure of what to feel.”

He evidently held affection for me, yet I sensed a subtle boundary between us. We had reached our limits in some aspects, but when it came to taking concrete steps, he hesitated. Our engagement remained a clandestine affair, and it didn’t appear that he aimed to conceal it from me either. Despite asserting he didn’t confine me, his inclination toward excessive protection persisted.

His excessive protectiveness was particularly apparent on the day he confronted Kwon Yijung.

“A warning sign was placed during cleaning.”

According to Lee Taeseong, the bathroom where the incident occurred seemed to have been designated for that purpose originally. The moment Kwon Yijung and I entered, the staff obstructed the entry and prevented Lee Taeseong from joining. When I heard that Kwon Yido had been contacted numerous times by him, I couldn’t help but commend his discernment.

“Great. It must have been challenging to reach your superior.”

“No, in fact, the Director even provided me with his personal number for emergencies.”

This instance only reinforced why I labeled Kwon Yido’s actions as overprotective. How could an emergency arise in a gathering of familiar individuals? Although something perilous occurred, it would have caught everyone off guard.

“…What happened to the staff who blocked your way?”

Rather than inquiring about Kwon Yijung’s actions, I was more curious about the staff’s conduct. It was an instinctive thought, based on my belief that Kwon Yido wouldn’t overlook their actions.

As expected, Lee Taeseong replied with an unchanged expression.

“They were all dismissed.”

“… ”

Sympathy… or was it? It wasn’t that kind of sentiment. Something significant could have happened to me, and I didn’t want to fret over those who aided him. I simply perceived him as a resolute individual, and my thoughts became tangled.

“Ha.”

I let out a light sigh and turned away. Well, what significance does all this hold? If it were a problem that could be resolved through deep contemplation, it wouldn’t have been a concern to begin with. It was all in the past, and perhaps it was alright to just let it be as it was until now.

I just hoped that this peace would not be broken.

* * *

Despite the warming days, the greenhouse maintained a consistent temperature. I’d worried about its use in the summer, but now it seemed it might actually be more comfortable here then. When did I begin envisioning my future in this place? The realization of that fact was a bit surprising.

“Are you referring to the perfume workshop?”

“Yes, if I attend, you’ll need to accompany me for security.”

Today, the staff had prepared rose flower tea—a visually enticing beverage with its bright red hue. The reddish petals floated gracefully, offering a pleasant visual experience. Lee Taeseong appeared to be savoring the tea, enjoying its aroma, without any objection.

“Does that imply I have a choice?”

When I mentioned the perfume workshop to Lee Taeseong, he appeared puzzled. I grinned and teasingly shrugged.

“Of course, you don’t actually have a choice, but I asked as a courtesy.”

He had an expression that made me wonder if such people existed. Discovering we were the same age made me feel more at ease with Lee Taeseong, which was significant, although he wasn’t initially an uncomfortable person.

“Well… I’m also curious about your thoughts.”

“If it’s an opinion…”

I toyed with my teacup, feeling the gentle warmth spreading from my fingertips. The air carried the fragrance of flowers, particularly the strong scent of roses, which seemed perfectly fitting.

“That… I don’t think perfume-making suits me.”

“… Yes?”

I widened my eyes, an expression that puzzled me completely.

“Is it necessary for something to suit you?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

His words trailed off at the end. What was he hesitating about? As I said, suitability wasn’t a requirement. I wasn’t aiming for something grand; I simply wanted a light experience.

“Actually… You seem well-suited for the activity.”

Lee Taeseong’s voice still quivered slightly. He glanced between me and the teacup, a frown on his face.

“Shouldn’t the phrase ‘doesn’t suit me’ apply to me and this teacup?”

“…”

I chuckled inadvertently. Lee Taeseong, who asked that question, held the teacup in a way that resembled a pot lid. Though our hand sizes were similar, it felt notably different from Kwon Yido’s.

“Being in the greenhouse doesn’t confine me; going out isn’t a big deal. I actually prefer the freedom to move around. It’d be better if the Director opts for the comfortable choice.”

It was a straightforward response. I took a sip of tea and glanced at the cover of the book I had set aside. It was a French novel, but its density made it challenging to read in one go. I reckon I might reach the final chapter if I continued reading until today.

“…Let’s give it a try then, shall we?”