The Season of Prettiest You (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 14

Why was it like this?

The room looked exactly as it did in her memory.

The bright white-toned interior, the stylish lighting, the ten-person conference table, and the bookshelves filling the walls— was still, unmistakably, .

Why had the man who now held multiple blades pointed at her left this room untouched? She couldn’t come up with any answer. As if entranced, Yeoreum took a step forward.

Time seemed to have frozen. An indescribably tangled emotion surged through her, and she swept her hand across the table. The smooth grain of the wood slipped beneath her palm.

Shifting her gaze, she saw sticky notes and notebooks still sitting undisturbed at the end of the table. Even the hasty scribbles she’d left behind remained motionless, trapped within the confines of that memo pad.

And placed within this familiar space was one unfamiliar object—a small, round cylindrical case.

Without thinking, she reached out and picked it up. Just then—

“What do you think you’re doing?”

A cold voice sliced through from behind her. Startled, Yeoreum dropped the case. It hit the floor and split cleanly in two, spitting out a ring. The ring glinted once, then rolled away and vanished somewhere out of sight.

“Oh.”

Yeoreum stared blankly at where the ring had disappeared, then turned around to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

Taeseok said nothing.

“I’ll… I’ll pick it up.”

Yeoreum leaned down to search for the ring. It seemed to have rolled under the bookshelf—without a long stick, she’d probably need to move the shelf itself.

Good grief. Was there any bigger nuisance than this? She bent her knees and knelt, stretching her hand as far as she could toward the spot. Then Taeseok grabbed her wrist and pulled her back up.

Their eyes met.

“There’s such a thing as being shameless to a point.”

Taeseok spoke without hiding his anger.

“What right do you have to even enter this room?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You even touched someone else’s belongings.”

“I—I’m so sorry…”

“Why? Does this room still look like it belongs to you?”

It was clearly wrong to open the door without permission, but there was nothing secret or sensitive about this room. She could’ve simply left after closing the door—why was he so furious? Though his grip on her wrist felt uncomfortable, Yeoreum couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Apologizing was all she could do.

“The author’s workspace is over there.”

He finally spoke again after an hour.

Following the direction of his finger, she saw the small room that used to serve as a storage closet. Yeoreum nodded. As long as there was a desk and a chair, she didn’t care where she worked—and being separated from Taeseok felt far more comfortable than staying in the living room.

“Then I’ll head to the workspace now.”

“Wait.”

Yeoreum, who had started to rise, sat back down on the sofa.

“Author Choi Yeoreum.”

“Yes.”

“Do not touch anything in this house without permission. The only space you’re allowed to use is that small room.”

“…Yes. I’m sorry.”

Yeoreum quietly aligned her toes and stared at the pattern on her slippers as she replied. She had no idea what else she was or wasn’t allowed to look at. She could feel Taeseok’s sharp gaze boring into the top of her head.

“If you cross that line again, I won’t hold back.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Are you even thinking before you answer me?”

His voice rose. Surprised by his unexpected reaction, Yeoreum lifted her head slightly. His eyes burned into her, as if trying to swallow her whole.

“Is ‘I’m sorry’ really all you can say?”

“No, I—it’s just that I truly am sorry.”

“Do I have to get angry for you to look me in the eye?”

“…”

Yeoreum stayed silent. She was learning that when faced with questions whose intent she couldn’t decipher, silence was often better than an answer. Eventually, he let out a long sigh.

“Go ahead.”

“Yes.”

As soon as his permission came, Yeoreum stood up. After walking a few steps, she gathered her courage and turned back.

“Um… sorry, but…”

“…”

“Can I have a glass of water?”

Sunlight flooded the room, and Yeoreum stood there, shimmering faintly. In truth, she was just standing still—but to Taeseok, she seemed to glow somehow. It twisted something inside him. He felt as though his sanctuary had been violated.

This place was full of memories. Just because they’d broken up messily didn’t mean his love for her back then had changed. Whenever he’d felt down, stepping into this room had offered strangely comforting solace, so he’d left it untouched. Now, it was no longer —it had become Taeseok’s refuge.

He’d only meant to tell her to leave. But then he saw her holding the ring. He’d gotten angry in that moment, yet managed to hold it in—up to a point.

Yeoreum scrambled on the floor, frantically searching for the ring. Watching her like that made his blood boil. In the end, Taeseok couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled her up. Meeting her startled eyes, he let his anger spill out.

“Am I losing my mind?”

Honestly, it wasn’t something worth getting this furious over. Taeseok considered himself quite patient. He wasn’t the kind of immature person who couldn’t control his emotions.

‘Why did I react like that?’

Lost in thought, the silence stretched longer.

Faced with this uneasy quiet, Yeoreum just stared down at the floor. Suddenly, his anger flared again. Was it really possible to lose control of his temper this badly? Taeseok felt subtly different somehow.

Had he gripped her wrist too tightly just now?

Annoyed, he’d ended up sending her off to that tiny storage room. But then that small woman had spoken words that shook him to his core:

“Can I have a glass of water?”

It felt as though someone had smacked him right in the back of the head.

Taeseok pressed his fingers to his forehead and let out a hollow laugh. He’d been so utterly inconsiderate.

No matter how reluctantly she’d been brought here, basic hospitality was the bare minimum. Unless he’d deliberately decided to become the worst kind of ex-boyfriend, treating her this poorly was completely unacceptable.

What was a simple glass of water, anyway?

“You’re allowed to use the kitchen too.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Water. Coffee too.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve always liked coffee, right?”

He stood up, considering making her a cup himself. But Yeoreum immediately flustered, refusing emphatically, and quickly retreated into her room with just a single water glass.

Even though this spacious house was entirely his domain, Taeseok suddenly felt like he had nowhere to go.

Lunchtime arrived.

Taeseok emerged from his study holding a book and spotted Yeoreum’s eco-bag crumpled on the sofa. She must’ve forgotten to take it in with her. After a brief hesitation, he walked over and picked up the large, square, white cloth bag.

Why did she even carry something like this around? Where did all her money go?

Money was precisely the thing that pricked Taeseok’s pride the most. Even if he generously assumed she’d suddenly grown to dislike him overnight, he still couldn’t fathom why she’d gone to the CEO to demand money.

During the time they’d been together, Yeoreum had never once made him feel she needed money. Far from it—she’d always been reluctant to accept anything he wanted to give her.

“A car for my birthday? No way, oppa. I couldn’t possibly buy you something that expensive for your birthday. I only want gifts I can realistically afford to give you.”

“Earrings again? These are crazy expensive! You barely wore the last pair I gave you—only three times!”

He’d had to plead with her all day just to get her to accept a single gift.

That same girl had apparently gone to Representative Ji Hyeonjeong and walked away with 500 million won. Even now, it was hard to believe. What could she have possibly said? “I’ll keep my relationship with Seo Taeseok a secret—just deposit 500 million won”? Did she say it while narrowing her eyes defiantly?

“She must’ve said something.”

After all, the deposit record existed plainly for everyone to see.

Regardless of what Taeseok imagined, the fact remained: Yeoreum had taken the money. Concrete evidence backed this up. Though 500 million won was a modest sum to him, it was undoubtedly a huge amount from her perspective.

In the provinces, that kind of money could buy a house with plenty left over. What on earth had she done with it?

Judging by the fact she carried around a bag like this, she probably hadn’t blown it all on luxuries. Stocks? Cryptocurrency? Investments? Or maybe someone in her family had gotten sick—medical bills?

None of these theories fit. Yeoreum hadn’t grown up wealthy, but as the only child of schoolteacher parents, she’d lived a comfortably middle-class life. Her family hadn’t been so destitute that she needed to scam money.

For the first time, he became curious.

“What happened to that money?”

Until now, he’d been so buried in his own wounded feelings that he hadn’t cared—or wanted to know—what became of the money. But meeting Choi Yeoreum again kept scraping at his insides. Now, he found himself wanting to know everything.

“Should I ask that guy?”

He remembered an eccentric former classmate who’d quit a good job to become a hacker.

He’d only been at it for a year, but Taeseok recalled him boasting about having already saved up quite a bit. The guy was always obnoxiously full of himself—but for something like this, he was perfect.

Taeseok set Yeoreum’s bag back down and sat on the sofa, pressing the call button.

[Taeseok! Long time no see.]

“I need a favor.”

[Yeah. Go ahead. Anything.]

“I’m trying to track something down.”

[Got it. I’ll help.]

The immediate, straightforward reply left Taeseok momentarily speechless. Now that the other person had agreed so readily, he felt overwhelmed about where to even begin.

“Um… It’s about money. I want to know what happened to a certain sum.”

[What kind? Cash? Cryptocurrency?]

“It’s cash—deposited into a domestic bank account. Saetbyeol Bank. I even know the recipient’s personal details.”

The man on the phone burst out laughing.

[What’s this? You already know everything. Easy. Just tell me what you need me to do.]

“I want to know where that money was spent.”

[Give me a few days. I’ll trace every single won from start to finish.]

After that reassuring call ended, silence returned. Taeseok let out a low, slightly deflated laugh. Why was he being so secretive about this? His own actions struck him as utterly ridiculous.

By the way—

He checked the clock. It was well past noon.

‘Lunch.’

He hadn’t even considered it. When he’d called her here to work, he should’ve realized he’d need to handle lunch too. Faced with this awkward situation, Taeseok took a deep breath. Starting tomorrow, it’d probably be better to have her come at 1 p.m., after she’d already eaten lunch.

They weren’t on terms to share a meal together, after all.

He strode over and opened the storage room door.

He’d deliberately ignored all manners and barged in rudely—but Yeoreum was fast asleep. With no one to call him out on his rudeness, he felt oddly let down. He’d expected her to look startled, flustered, or even snap at him in protest.

‘Why is she always asleep?’

This wasn’t some five-star sleep resort.

If she was going to nap, she might as well lie flat—but instead, she was slumped awkwardly in her chair, her head tilted sideways. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, the kind of posture that would definitely give her a stiff neck.

He stepped closer, intending to gently straighten her head.

Between the unbuttoned gaps of her blouse, her slender neck and collarbone were faintly visible. His heart stirred for no reason, and he quickly tried to avert his eyes—but then he noticed a necklace.

More precisely, a pendant.

‘Could it be…?’

The moment he leaned in slightly to get a better look, Yeoreum shifted in her sleep. Taeseok jerked back a step as if caught doing something wrong. At the same time, Yeoreum opened her eyes.