Chapter 10
Yeoreul’s eyes widened.
“There’s a sewing room?”
Inhye had gone out, so Yeoreul had simply stopped a passing employee on the staircase to ask if there happened to be a sewing machine in the house. She never expected to hear that there was an entire sewing room.
Following the employee, Yeoreul stepped inside.
The room was bright, spacious, and pleasant. Several staff members were busy working, and they all stood politely to greet her with warm smiles. Yeoreul bowed back.
Her first thought was that she shouldn’t work here.
If she used this workspace, she felt as though she would only bring discomfort into a place where everyone worked comfortably.
“Is there… perhaps another place with a sewing machine?”
At her cautious question, the employee thought for a moment.
“There is one place… but it’s practically just a storage room, so I’m not sure you’d want to use it.”
Yeoreul’s eyes lit up.
“Could I take a look?”
The employee led the way. Carrying a bundle of fabric and her toolbox, Yeoreul followed behind.
They left the mansion, crossed the wide lawn, and stopped in front of a storage building tucked away behind the estate. The employee unlocked the door with a key.
Creak.
The inside came into view.
It was surprisingly well organized.
There was a large worktable perfect for drafting patterns, surrounded by tools used for making clothes.
There was also an iron and ironing board, dress forms, and several different sewing machines.
It seemed to function as a backup sewing room rather than an ordinary storage shed, and thankfully it wasn’t cluttered with miscellaneous junk.
“It has quite a lot in it. No one really uses this place.”
“No… I think it’s cozy.”
Like someone moving into a new home, Yeoreul eagerly looked around every corner.
“The sewing machine is a good one, too.”
“Everything here has been sitting unused for a long time, so I’m honestly not sure what condition it’s in.”
The employee smiled awkwardly.
“Would it be alright if I used this place? I’ll speak to Director Ahan myself.”
Calming her excitement, Yeoreul spoke steadily.
“Then I’ll clean it up for you right away.”
“No, it’s okay. Please go back to your work.”
“But you don’t have to—”
“I want to do it myself.”
Her voice was quiet but firm.
“From beginning to end.”
Whenever it came to her craft, Yeoreul’s timid personality disappeared completely.
Seeing the determination in her eyes, the employee simply smiled kindly instead of arguing.
A little later, they returned with a broom, mop, and other cleaning supplies.
“If you need anything, just call us.”
“Thank you.”
After the employee left, Yeoreul looked around the room, carefully assessing the place that would become her workspace.
She threw open every window and the door to let fresh air inside.
Unused items were pushed neatly into one corner. She gathered scattered spools of thread and swept the dusty floor.
Her movements were quick and efficient.
Before long, the storage room began to feel like a real workshop.
“It’s clean.”
Having a space she could truly call her own filled Yeoreul with happiness.
Today, her goal was simply to get acquainted with the sewing machine.
As she wondered what to make, she remembered the employee who had kindly shown her the room. Earlier, she had noticed that the employee’s shopping tote looked quite worn.
With an idea in mind, she immediately got to work.
Opening her toolbox, she threaded the machine and adjusted all the settings.
She tore a piece of unbleached cotton fabric with a rip and quickly made a practice eco bag.
Having grown up beside her grandmother, who ran a clothing repair shop, something like this required no detailed pattern.
Draw with tailor’s chalk.
Cut.
Sew.
Turn it inside out.
Done.
“Hmm… This should work.”
She cut beautiful fabric, reinforced both the outer fabric and lining with interfacing, and began sewing.
Using tighter stitches than usual so it could carry heavier loads, she carefully completed the bag.
Completely absorbed in her work, she didn’t even realize lunchtime had arrived.
Thankfully, one of the employees quietly brought her a meal without needing to be asked.
She had spent the entire day in her new workshop.
Before she noticed, the evening sun had turned golden outside the windows.
“Ah… Finished.”
Stretching her arms beside the sewing machine, Yeoreul admired her completed work.
Several eco bags with different patterns were neatly lined up beside a flower-shaped pin cushion.
Though her body was exhausted, her heart was full.
She hoped everyone would like them.
After giving each bag a careful final press with the iron, she cleaned the table and swept the floor.
“See you tomorrow.”
Smiling at the workspace that now felt like her own, she locked the door.
When she walked into the backyard, she saw several employees gathered together during what appeared to be their break.
She stopped.
Making the bags had been easy.
Giving them away was much harder.
Before she could even approach them, worries filled her mind.
What if they whisper about me?
Just then, one of the employees noticed her.
“Do you need something?”
“Ah… well…”
Fidgeting with her feet, Yeoreul slowly revealed the eco bags she had been hiding behind her back.
“Oh! Did you make these yourself?”
She shyly nodded.
“You’ve all helped me so much… and I wanted to thank you. They’re small gifts, but…”
“You’re incredibly fast.”
The employee’s eyes doubled in size after inspecting the perfectly sewn bag.
“Your craftsmanship is amazing. Thank you so much. It’s beautiful.”
The others quickly gathered around.
“You made all these in one day? No… half a day? That’s impossible!”
“I-I… I’ve made a lot of them before…”
Unused to compliments, Yeoreul mumbled so quietly that hardly anyone heard her.
The employees happily picked out different designs according to their own tastes.
“I’ll make even nicer ones for you next time.”
Seeing how genuinely delighted they were made Yeoreul just as happy.
Led by their warm hospitality, she ended up sharing seasonal fruit with several of them.
This place had become…
more comfortable.
Rather than feeling awkward and out of place, it now felt warm.
Almost like home.
* * *
It was late in the evening.
Between their two bedrooms, Ahan sat alone on the long sofa in the hallway.
Yeoreul’s heart dropped.
The relaxed happiness that had filled her all day disappeared instantly.
Thump.
Thump.
Her pulse raced uncontrollably.
Instinctively, she turned and hid behind the corner at the end of the hallway.
How should I greet him?
Welcome back?
What are you doing?
You came home early.
Have you had dinner?
“Is there something you need?”
Startled, Yeoreul looked up.
One of the employees who had just climbed the stairs was staring at her with a puzzled expression.
“Oh… no.”
The employee smiled politely, bowed, and walked away.
After letting out a quiet sigh, Yeoreul gathered her courage.
She decided she should first tell Ahan about the workshop.
Hearing approaching footsteps, Ahan turned.
Their eyes met.
“Welcome back.”
Yeoreul immediately lowered her head in greeting.
Ahan set aside the tablet he had been holding and silently walked toward her.
He stopped directly in front of her.
“I wanted to ask you something…”
After quietly studying her face, Ahan withdrew the hand that had been inside his jacket pocket.
His hand suddenly rising into her view made Yeoreul flinch.
She instinctively shrank back.
Without reacting to her fear, Ahan simply took out a handkerchief and gently wiped a streak of dust from her cheek.
His expression never changed.
As he carefully finished wiping her face, his gaze settled on her eyes.
“Where have you been?”
Feeling her face grow warm, Yeoreul rubbed the cheek where the soft handkerchief had just been.
“Actually… that’s what I wanted to tell you.”
“The storage room?”
The simple question eased her tension slightly.
Apparently Inhye had already reported it.
“So… may I continue using it?”
Ahan gave a short nod.
“Use it.”
A bright smile blossomed across Yeoreul’s face.
“Really? Thank you!”
Ahan quietly observed how much brighter she looked than she had that morning.
“Do you want me to move you somewhere better?”
“N-No. I like that place.”
He simply nodded, saying nothing more.
With nothing left to say, Yeoreul nervously fiddled with her hands.
“…Have you eaten dinner?”
“What about you?”
“I have.”
“So have I.”
Turning toward his room, Ahan tilted his chin.
It was a silent invitation to follow him.
He picked up the tablet he’d left on the sofa.
Still dazed, Yeoreul glanced toward her own bedroom before reluctantly following him.
Oddly enough, the calmness Ahan naturally carried only made her feel more uncomfortable.
Being alone with him already felt awkward.
It wasn’t that she disliked Ahan.
Rather…
Whenever she was with him, she never knew how to act.
She hated this unfamiliar, unstable feeling inside herself.
But it was too late to turn back.
She had already stepped into Ahan’s room.
Her mouth fell open.
The room was far larger than she had expected.
Unlike her own bedroom, decorated in soft, light colors, his room was furnished in darker tones that gave it a calm, intellectual atmosphere.
Beneath a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling stood a large bed against one wall.
In front of it sat a sofa and coffee table.
A mahogany console stood nearby.
Although most of his books were apparently kept in another study, a neatly arranged clock and documents rested on the desk.
Near the window that would surely fill with morning sunlight was a tea table with matching chairs.
Now, however, darkness stretched beyond the windows behind the long sofa.
The room felt like something out of a richly bound foreign novel.
It suited him perfectly.
Everything was spotless.
It was so immaculate that Yeoreul felt afraid to touch anything, as though even the slightest disturbance would ruin its perfection.
“Sit.”
Ahan gestured toward the sofa.
“O-Okay.”
The two of them sat down.
Ahan casually draped his jacket over the armrest.
Yeoreul accidentally caught sight of his muscular forearm beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeve.
Like someone caught stealing a glance, she quickly looked away and clenched the fabric of her own clothes.
“You came home early.”
Ahan remained silent.
He simply watched her.
His eyes…
Those quiet, unreadable eyes that somehow made people feel both unfamiliar and uneasy.
At least she had learned one thing.
Ahan always left gaps in conversations.
As though he had grown up never knowing what complete love looked like, there was no trace of emotional warmth or empathy in either his expression or the way he spoke.
