Relieved, Yiyoung immediately regained her confidence. It was weird; she usually didn’t get upset so easily. Having worked at the ER for so long, she was used to keeping her calm, but somehow Muyeol’s words had an instant effect on her.
But then Muyeol carelessly said, “Look at you, feeling so confident. Did you even wash your face?”
She felt humiliated, as if someone had thrown water at her face. She frantically touched her face, horror slowly sinking into her as she realized she still had crust in her eyes, her hair was messy, and there were marks on her face from sleeping so deeply.
“Go wash up. I’ll check if there’s something we can eat,” Muyeol told her.
Yiyoung swept her hair back, internally cringing at her pathetic state. “Okay. I’ll be using your bathroom.”
“Do as you’d like. The room where you slept is going to be yours anyway. Let’s eat and then step out to bring your belongings.”
Annoyed, Yiyoung frowned at him, but Muyeol went on as if teaching a child. “A contractual marriage requires the agreement of both the parties. A contract comes to end the moment the needs of the parties are no longer balanced. And, who else can I trust? I need you. Because I know you won’t be swayed by money and betray me.”
“I like money, too.”
“I know. But you like to earn it on your own.”
Yiyoung felt a pang in her heart. “You trust me that much? How are you so sure I won’t betray you?”
“Are you saying that you would?”
“I asked you first. Why do you trust me so much?”
“Yoon Yiyoung, I know if you want to hurt me, you’ll do it from the front, not stab me in the back. That’s why I trust you.” Muyeol looked at her with his deep, black eyes.
She suddenly recalled what he told her last night. “I asked you because you made a promise to me, and I never had any doubt that you wouldn’t fulfill it.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that. But I guess we’ve been friends for many years, so…”
“Go wash up,” Muyeol ordered, “We need to hurry and start the moving process.”
“Won’t the marriage certificate be enough? Do I have to move in?”
“What will they gain from bothering me? Besides, I’m not that weak. According to what you said, I was born to be a fighter.”
“What would anyone gain from killing a bug? One kills it for no reason. And you’re right. You are a good fighter, but even someone like you would be completely broken once you are abandoned by the person you trust the most.”
Yiyoung scowled, but even though she didn’t like the way he talked to her, she couldn’t deny his words.
They reminded her of her father. She had trusted him, relied on him. She wondered what she had meant to her father. Even if her mother had passed away, she was still there for him. Could he just not survive the loss of his wife despite desperately wanting to get better, or did he… just not want to live? Muyeol’s words echoed in her mind again. Was this why she had kept to herself all this time… because she was afraid of not meaning anything to others? The hair on her arms stood up. She turned around, wanting to run away.
* * *
Yiyoung washed her hair and put on her wrinkled clothes again. As she walked to the dining room, Muyeol put down a pot on the dining table.
She sat down at the table. “What’s this? Did you make this?”
“We have an excellent housekeeper. She’s also a great chef. Try it.”
Yiyoung paid careful attention to the way he spoke. His tone was respectful, which surprised her. With how arrogant he usually was, she had assumed he would look down on his servants. “That’s surprising.”
“What is?”
“The way you talked about your housekeeper,” she said a little too honestly, “I thought you would treat her like nothing.”
Muyeol only curled his lip in response before lifting the lid of the pot. Instantly, the delicious smell of abalone porridge hit her nose. She put a spoonful in her mouth, and the flavor immediately overwhelmed her taste buds.
“Aren’t you going to eat with me?” she asked.
“I already ate.”
“You did? I wish I could see you eat at least once. I’m curious as to what you ate to become so tall and buff.”
“There’s an indoor gym in the house,” Muyeol explained, “You should work out, too.”
“I don’t want to. I prefer breathing exercises instead,” Yiyoung replied before focusing on the porridge. Like always, she enjoyed her meal without a care about where she was and who was around.
Muyeol hated eating with others. For him, the dining table was a place where family members shared fake smiles and unnecessary conversations. That was all it meant to him. He never ate with Madam Choi either.
Yiyoung was completely different from him. She worshipped and praised her meal; so much so that even though Muyeol wasn’t eating with her, he felt like he could taste the porridge.