Chapter 08
“Grandmother, did you sleep well through the night?”
With a moist, gentle smile, a woman stepped over the threshold as if it were her own home.
Choi Mal-ja, who had already come to the entrance to greet her, couldn’t hide her delight when she saw the fruit basket in the visitor’s hands, and her face lit up with a broad smile.
“Oh my, why did you bring something like this? I told you to come empty-handed.”
“How could I? There’s a celebration in the household, after all.”
Choi Mal-ja flinched slightly at the unexpectedly pointed tone. Beneath the congratulatory words, there was a hidden sharpness.
This guest, who had arrived at Baekya House so early in the morning, was none other than Gong Se-ra—the distinguished young lady who had once been engaged in talks with Joo-heon.
Gong Se-ra.
Her grandfather had served as Minister of Justice, and her father was currently a three-term congressman—a promising political family. She was their only daughter. Her mother was also the youngest daughter of a chaebol family, enjoying wealth and status through generations.
From birth, she was a completely different breed from Ha-ryung.
If Baekya House dominated the business world in South Korea, Gong Se-ra’s family practically controlled politics.
For that reason, Choi Mal-ja had spent years trying to pair Gong Se-ra with Joo-heon.
By some stroke of fate, Gong Se-ra also took a liking to Joo-heon at first sight, and he did not object. Choi Mal-ja had been filled with hope that once the two young, beautiful people married, nothing could stand in her way.
That was until Se-ha-ryung suddenly appeared and disrupted everything.
“…Celebration, my foot.”
Choi Mal-ja forced a neutral expression but shook her head in displeasure. Just thinking about how things had gone awry made her angry.
At that moment, a soft, polite voice came from behind.
“Has a guest arrived, Grandmother?”
Ha-ryung, just arriving, saw Gong Se-ra, looking even younger and prettier than the last time she had seen her.
Two years younger than Ha-ryung, Gong Se-ra was a freshly blossomed twenty-five years old. And from the age of twenty-five, she had carried on an affair with Ha-ryung’s husband, Baek Joo-heon, for a full five years.
“Oh my, who…? Grandmother, did you call a helper?”
A malicious gaze hidden behind her smile shot toward Ha-ryung.
Even without the hissing sound, every word from Gong Se-ra’s mouth was like a venomous snake’s bite. Even now, fully aware of Ha-ryung’s presence, she provoked her deliberately.
Choi Mal-ja, realizing it was Ha-ryung standing behind her, quickly turned her head. Her glare was sharp and severe.
“You came down without being called. Why?”
“Since a guest has arrived, it’s only natural to offer my greetings.”
Ha-ryung answered softly and passed by Choi Mal-ja with light steps. She then took the fruit basket from Gong Se-ra’s hands.
“Thank you. I think we briefly greeted each other at the wedding hall yesterday, but I guess you’ve forgotten. I am Joo-heon’s wife, Se-ha-ryung.”
“…….”
Fine lines appeared on Gong Se-ra’s otherwise delicate forehead. The term “Joo-heon’s wife” flowed naturally from Ha-ryung’s lips—the title that should have been hers.
“Don’t just stand there. Sit down. I’ll serve some tea.”
Ha-ryung could see through Gong Se-ra’s thoughts but didn’t care. She found it almost amusing. Even though a bizarre, supernatural situation had transported her to the past, Gong Se-ra’s expression, boldly barging in the day after the wedding, was exactly the same as before.
There was no sense of shame or remorse. Only a strong hostility, as if she wanted to drive Ha-ryung out of the house immediately.
Gong Se-ra and Choi Mal-ja sat on the sofa with openly displeased expressions. Watching them, old memories came flooding back, just like the present moment.
Five years ago.
On the very first day of her marriage, Ha-ryung was visited by her husband’s so-called other woman.
With alluringly curled red lips, she told Ha-ryung that she and Joo-heon were lovers. Though she understood the marriage was unavoidable, the seat next to Baek Joo-heon was still hers.
Ha-ryung could only stare, frozen, as Gong Se-ra boldly declared war. She had no way of knowing this in advance. And even if she had, she knew her father’s decision would never have changed.
But the most painful part was what Choi Mal-ja said next.
“I invited her. What’s the problem? After all, Se-ra has always come and gone in my house as she pleased.”
Ha-ryung could never forget Gong Se-ra’s mocking smile at that moment. Whenever Joo-heon was away, the curl of those red lips came back to her mind. It became an unhealing scar throughout her married life.
That day, Gong Se-ra didn’t leave until Joo-heon returned home. She acted as if Baek Joo-heon had never married. She treated Ha-ryung as if she didn’t exist—more precisely, like a maid.
While sitting on the sofa, talking endlessly about things Ha-ryung didn’t know, Gong Se-ra naturally sent Ha-ryung on errands. Choi Mal-ja didn’t even pretend to stop her.
“Bring the tea I often drink. Oh, you might not know which one. It’s on the second shelf, right side—make sure the water temperature and brewing time are exact. Cold tea tastes terrible.”
“…Yes.”
“And could you tell the driver waiting outside to wait a little longer? I lost track of time chatting with Grandmother. Is it okay if I stay longer?”
“Oh, of course.”
“….”
Ha-ryung felt humiliated but could not respond. She hadn’t married into a household that disregarded her existence, but the subservient posture ingrained in her since childhood was hard to shed—especially in front of people who so naturally assumed superiority.
If they treated her as insignificant, Ha-ryung had no choice but to be insignificant.
The humiliation from Gong Se-ra’s gift didn’t end there. While drinking tea and chatting, Gong Se-ra yawned, pretending to be bored, and then made a sly request to Choi Mal-ja:
“Grandmother, may I see Joo-heon’s room?”
“Joo-heon’s room?”
“Yes. I just wanted to see if anything has been changed without my knowledge.”
“….”
Even Choi Mal-ja sneaked a glance at Ha-ryung. Gong Se-ra was openly implying she would inspect the newlywed room, and spoke as if she already knew everything about Joo-heon’s space. In front of the real wife, Ha-ryung.
Even Ha-ryung, who had endured like stone, couldn’t stop her eyes from reddening, biting her lips tightly.
“Go ahead. Nothing has been changed, so don’t worry.”
“That’s a relief. I was worried something might not suit my taste. Hoho.”
Smiling cheerfully, Gong Se-ra went up to the third floor with Choi Mal-ja and didn’t return for a long time—until Joo-heon came home.
And Ha-ryung had to watch as Gong Se-ra even took her husband’s suit.
The triumphant expression Gong Se-ra wore that day would never be forgotten. She was declaring to Ha-ryung with her entire being:
“See? I am the true owner here. I am this man’s woman.”
“Yes, you spoke well. Go quickly and make the tea to serve her.”
Before Choi Mal-ja could even order, Ha-ryung took the task upon herself. Choi Mal-ja’s expression finally softened a little.
Ha-ryung turned swiftly toward the kitchen. She didn’t want to hear Gong Se-ra’s comments about tea preferences again.
Recalling the humiliation, her small hands stiffened, knuckles whitening. She slowly opened her palm.
It’s okay. Don’t be tense. I won’t be hurt by them anymore.
Patting her shredded heart, Ha-ryung slowly brewed the tea. The calming scent of citrus filled the kitchen air.
“Here, I’ve brewed the tea. Be careful, it’s hot.”
“What is this, tangerine?”
Gong Se-ra frowned at the fresh, fruity aroma. Ha-ryung had intentionally brought something opposite to Gong Se-ra’s taste, which leaned slightly bitter.
Without saying a word, Ha-ryung placed the beautifully carved teacup in front of her. Gong Se-ra stared silently, her gaze burning for a moment.
But as she reached for the handle, her hand slipped awkwardly. The hot tea in her cup wobbled and began to spill—toward the hand Ha-ryung had not yet withdrawn.
