My Husband Fell in Love - Chapter 5

During the whirlwind passage of summer and autumn, Seo Ha had completely forgotten about Lee Ji Soo. They rarely crossed paths, and she’d been far too busy preparing for the brand launch.

“It’s freezing. It was kind of cozy just yesterday.”

Seo Ha got into the car, tightly pulling her coat closed against the sudden chill that had settled overnight. It felt like just the other day she’d watched the college entrance exam news—yet winter had already arrived in full force.

“Your coat’s too thin.”

Seung Oh clicked his tongue after touching the edge of Seo Ha’s coat.

“There’s a scarf on the back seat. Put it on. You’ll get cold at lunch.”

“Thanks.”

As she reclined her seat slightly to grab the scarf, something caught her eye beneath the back seat.

“…?”

She fished it out with some difficulty—it was a macaron. A pink macaron, clearly bitten into and dropped by someone.

“Where’d this macaron come from? You know I hate stuff like this, honey.”

Seung Oh glanced at the macaron and spoke nonchalantly.

“One of our employees borrowed my car yesterday. Must’ve dropped it while eating.”

His answer felt off somehow. And upon closer inspection, she noticed a vivid red lipstick mark right next to the bite.

“You lent your car to a female employee?”

“He picked up another female colleague on his way back from an off-site visit.”

Something about it left a sour taste in her mouth—an indescribable feeling that clung stubbornly in her chest like chewed gum.

Why? Why did half a half-eaten macaron bother her so much?

Noticing Seo Ha had gone quiet, Seung Oh spoke up again.

“You know we switched fabric factories, right? I sent samples—check them when you get to work.”

“Yeah. But why the switch? The previous factory wasn’t bad.”

“It’s bigger, and I liked it better in several ways.”

She’d need to feel the samples herself to know exactly what he meant. For now, Seo Ha pushed thoughts of the macaron aside and mentally reviewed her to-do list for the day.

“Good morning, everyone!”

As Seo Ha entered the design studio with a cheerful greeting, staff members responded from all around.

“Good morning, Team Leader.”

“Good morning, Team Leader!”

Daughter of the company president or not, when Seo Ha first joined this design team, she’d been the rookie designer handling all sorts of odd jobs.

But after her designs became consecutive hits, she naturally rose to senior designer—and later, with accumulated experience, earned the title of team leader.

Still, there were always those who whispered behind her back, calling her a parachute hire or a gold spoon. Take, for example, Secretary Ryu Kyung Joon—who’d pass her in hallways with a cold expression and a dismissive nod.

She’d never actually seen or heard him gossiping herself—but she was certain he’d do exactly that if given the chance.

“Good morning, Ara. Did the samples from the new factory arrive?”

“They’re on your desk, Team Leader. I’ve also set up the resumes and portfolios of the junior designer applicants in the meeting room.”

“Thanks. I’ll check the samples and meet in thirty minutes.”

Seo Ha went to her glass-partitioned workstation and opened the fabric book. After touching, pulling, and cutting the neatly arranged samples on each page from every angle, she came to this conclusion:

“…There’s hardly any difference.”

It was marginally better, but not enough to justify the hassle of switching. Still, since it was technically a tiny bit better and the old factory had been inconvenient due to its small size, she decided to approve it.

“Alright, time for the meeting. Everyone gather in the conference room!”

She clapped twice as she stepped out into the office, and the staff hurried into the meeting room and took their seats. Seo Ha carefully examined the top resume and portfolio, then asked for her team’s opinions.

“Kim Ye Rim—she’s got talent. What do you all think?”

“She definitely has good taste.”

“She’s unique, but might be a stretch for our target market to pull off, don’t you think?”

Debate erupted over every resume—comments like “She’s good,” “She’s not,” “Too old,” “Too young,” “Not enough experience,” and so on. After reviewing one after another, Seo Ha frowned as soon as she saw the final resume.

“Lee Ji Soo?”

What’s she doing here?

“Do you know her?”

Yoon Jung asked, noticing Seo Ha’s expression.

Of course she knew her—even after checking the name and photo two or three times, it was unmistakably Lee Ji Soo: the daughter of the new cleaning aide who’d brought her bindaetteok.

Come to think of it, didn’t she say she majored in design? Of all places, she applied here.

Though it left a bad taste, it wasn’t her fault, strictly speaking. Seo Ha shook her head lightly.

“No. Share your thoughts.”

“This applicant lacks experience, Team Leader.”

Someone quickly countered.

“But her foundation is solid—very mainstream.”

“I agree. If she joins as a junior and learns, she’ll grow quickly.”

In the photo, Lee Ji Soo looked much neater and brighter than Seo Ha remembered.

The neatly pressed dress she couldn’t quite bring herself to throw away, the bindaetteok Seung Oh had devoured saying it was delicious, and Lee Ji Soo’s flushed face as she knelt on the floor—all overlaid vividly on this tidy photo.

Seo Ha pushed the resume aside and flipped through the portfolio page by page. As someone had noted, the designs were mainstream—or, less kindly, lacking in character. Regardless of personal discomfort, the portfolio itself simply didn’t impress her.

“Okay. Lee Ji Soo is rejected.”

With a firm flip of the resume, the new designer hiring meeting came to an end.

It was fortunate the portfolio wasn’t strong. If Lee Ji Soo had presented standout designs, Seo Ha would’ve added her to the shortlist without hesitation—

for Kang Yoon Company, built from the ground up by her parents, each lending a syllable of their names to form it.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Got a meeting—I need to head out. Can’t leave together tonight.]

It was a message from Seung Oh near the end of the workday. Thanks to that, Seo Ha was now stuck in the taxi-hunting rush hour.

Winter sunsets are impatient. By the time Seo Ha stepped outside, the sky was already dark, and brake lights crawled slowly through the gridlocked streets.

No matter how much she stood on tiptoe and scanned like a meerkat, she couldn’t spot a single taxi with its light on.

“Ugh, it’s so cold.”

The wind between buildings sliced ruthlessly across her cheeks. As if that weren’t enough, sleet began pelting down from the overcast sky.

“Snow always comes at times like this.”

She tightened Seung Oh’s scarf around her neck. Waiting here another hour wouldn’t bring a taxi—better to walk and take the hellish subway instead.

Today called for a puffy jacket and fur boots.

Her pretty thin coat and beige long boots from this morning now seemed foolishly impractical.

Lost in regret, she walked—and the sleet, once tolerable, turned into cold, driving rain. By the time she barely made it to the subway entrance, a sign hung plainly: “Under Construction.”

Truly, nothing was going right today.

Seo Ha dashed into the nearby bus stop to escape the worsening downpour. The tiny shelter, barely one pyeong in size, was already packed—with commuters waiting for buses and others who’d fled the rain like her.

“Excuse me—just for a moment!”

Even hunching her shoulders as much as possible, she still pressed against strangers. Her glossy cashmere coat and soft leather boots now felt like nothing but burdens.

Would the rain keep going? Should she call her mom?

As Seo Ha stared at the rain, her gaze suddenly locked onto something across the street.

“…?”

At first, she thought it was just another car of the same color. Then she realized it was the same model. Only after squinting to read the license plate did that assumption shatter.

“Lee Seung Oh?”

He’d said he had a meeting. Was it nearby? Despite her defensive thoughts, her heart raced uncontrollably—thump-thump, thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump-thump. It seemed bad feelings always struck the heart before the mind.

Seung Oh’s car sat parked with hazard lights on right in front of the chaotic subway station, ignoring the impatient honking cars behind him.

Soon, a woman ran up and got into the car as if it were the most natural thing—into the passenger seat Seo Ha had occupied that very morning.

The macaron.

That half-eaten pink macaron struck the back of Seo Ha’s head like a massive block of ice.

Her trembling fingers pulled out her phone. On the screen remained Seung Oh’s earlier unread message, still open:

[Got a meeting—I need to head out. Can’t leave together tonight.]

She tapped the call button. The dial tone started. Listening with one ear to the ringing, watching his car drive away with the other, Seo Ha moistened her pale lips with her tongue.

[Hello?]

“Yeah, honey.”

Please don’t let my voice sound too shaky.

“Where are you? It suddenly started raining. Can you come get me? I can’t get a taxi…”

Just say, “I’ll be right there. Stay put and wait.”

[I can’t come right now.]

Seung Oh replied in his usual tone, completely unchanged.

[I’m in Gyeonggi Province now. I told you I had a meeting.]

Ah. So that’s how it was.

Her scalp went cold. The unpleasant fluttering in her chest accelerated wildly.

“…Got it.”

Oddly, her voice didn’t shake at all.

Before she could even press “End,” the call disconnected—without even a token question like “How will you get home?” or “At least do you have an umbrella?”

Seo Ha stepped out into the rain—now even heavier than before. She no longer cared about her precious cashmere coat or leather boots, which absolutely mustn’t get wet. She only wanted to walk, and walk, and vanish somewhere.

How long had she walked aimlessly, drenched in winter rain colder than snow?

Suddenly, the downpour stopped. Seo Ha halted and turned back with blurry eyes.

“Why are you wandering around so pathetically? Isn’t someone like you—a golden spoon—supposed to be above this?”

Good grief. It really was the worst kind of day. Of all people, she had to run into him now.

He wore a black long coat reaching below his knees. Maybe because everything around was dark, his skin looked paler than usual, and his already unkind-looking lips appeared even redder.

His hair was neatly swept back—irritatingly so—and he held a large umbrella with a leather-gloved hand.

“That’s none of your business, Secretary Ryu.”