* * *
Junyoung, back to his usual confident self, handed the contract to Seojin.
Without any visible reaction, Seojin scanned the new clauses before signing the bottom line with decisive strokes.
“Your turn.”
Junyoung took back the pen and contract, signing his name next to “Party A.”
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if they should get the contract notarized but dismissed the idea, not wanting to risk drawing more attention to the matter.
Instead, he securely pocketed the completed contract.
“I’m keeping this.”
“Do as you like.”
Junyoung’s grin widened at Seojin’s indifferent response, and he carefully folded the contract.
Watching Seojin gather the scattered documents and medical records, Junyoung noted the sigh of relief Seojin let out, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
Now, the next step was to schedule Jinseo’s pheromone treatments.
Feeling the urgency, Seojin spoke up.
“Like I said, the treatments need to be weekly. The center recommended sticking to a consistent schedule, so let’s decide on a specific day.”
“Oh, you mean like every Monday or Tuesday?”
Junyoung nodded arrogantly as if he understood, then hesitated.
Even if it was only once a week, it was still a hassle to carve out time.
However, if this treatment concluded, Yoo Seojin promised to disappear quietly, so Junyoung had to uphold his end of the deal.
Weekdays were a bit tricky, but giving up his weekend time was even worse.
After mulling it over for a while—just as Seojin’s patience was about to run out—Junyoung finally spoke.
“Thursday works best. You can come to my place.”
“Your place? Where is it?”
“Here. The top floor of this building.”
The reason Junyoung had chosen this café as their meeting spot in the first place was its proximity to his home.
It was on the first floor of his residential complex, making it extremely convenient.
Realizing this, Seojin sighed inwardly and nodded.
“If I pick up Jinseo after work and come here, I might be late. Is that okay with you?”
“Not really? I mean, I might have plans now and then, but I’ll go out of my way to adjust for you.”
Junyoung acted excessively self-important, as if being listed as the principal party in the contract made him some sort of king.
Suppressing his irritation, Seojin bit his lip and stifled a laugh.
He emptied the remaining ice in his cup into his mouth, crunching on it as if it were Junyoung himself, which oddly improved his mood.
“Oh, by the way.”
Seojin had been about to ask for Junyoung’s exact address when the latter suddenly interjected, as though he’d just remembered something.
“How’d you get my number? Did you dig into my life or something?”
“I asked Hyunho, and he gave it to me.”
“Hyunho? You mean Lee Hyunho? That idiot just gave away my number like that?”
Lee Hyunho, a college friend of Junyoung’s and someone he still met occasionally, was also the person he had teamed up with for that infamous group project.
After graduating, Junyoung had changed his number while cutting off some old contacts, but Hyunho had stayed in the loop.
So Seojin had asked Hyunho for Junyoung’s number?
That probably meant he also knew about the child.
A sudden wave of unease swept over Junyoung, prompting him to blurt out.
“You didn’t tell Hyunho everything, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. I just asked for your number. Don’t scold him later—he was just doing me a favor.”
“Don’t act all virtuous, Yoo Seojin. It doesn’t suit you.”
“When did I ever—ugh, whatever.”
Seojin considered whether he should try to fix Junyoung’s twisted way of thinking, then immediately dismissed the idea.
Why should he bother?
Shaking his head, he gave up.
Junyoung scowled at Seojin’s sigh and retrieved the neatly folded contract.
The gesture seemed like a prelude to leaving, so Seojin instinctively grabbed Junyoung’s wrist and hastily asked for the address.
“Just tell me your address.”
“Let go of my hand.”
Junyoung, not bothering to hide his discomfort, shook Seojin off without hesitation.
Embarrassed, Seojin rubbed his freed hand on his thigh under the table.
Not that I enjoy touching you either, thought Seojin, silently grumbling as Junyoung pulled out his phone.
While Junyoung was distracted, Seojin allowed his displeasure to show on his face for a moment.
“I sent you a text. Make sure to call before you come.”
Before Junyoung even finished speaking, a notification popped up on Seojin’s phone.
[633 Eonju-ro, Sunrise Nonhyeon, Building 102, Unit 3901]
While Seojin scanned the unfamiliar address, Junyoung stood up swiftly.
Without offering a farewell or a promise to meet again, he vanished as though afraid Seojin might stop him.
Seojin alternated between staring at his empty cup and Junyoung’s vacant seat before letting out a deep sigh.
Despite the ups and downs, relief washed over him now that he had achieved his goal.
“Seojin, it’s time for lunch!”
Seojin, engrossed in work, snapped back to reality at the sound of someone calling his name.
Turning around, he saw Assistant Manager Jung smiling warmly at him.
Glancing at the clock on his monitor, Seojin realized it was already lunchtime.
It felt good to have focused so intensely on work for the first time in a while.
As Jung watched Seojin grab his phone and stand up, he chuckled before leading the way.
Following behind, Seojin noticed the office was already deserted, with everyone else having left for lunch.
“You seem in a good mood today, Seojin.”
Arriving last at the elevator, Seojin awkwardly touched his face at Team Leader Lee’s remark.
“…Do I?”
“All the worry and stress are gone from your face.”
Worry and stress, huh?
Since last Saturday, he’d been feeling a bit lighter, so it made sense others would notice the change.
Thinking back to all the fretting he’d done, Seojin felt a bit self-conscious.
The elevator arrived on the 7th floor, pausing their conversation briefly.
Once inside, Team Leader Lee resumed.
“How’s the kid doing? Feeling better?”
“Not completely, but we’ve found a treatment, so it looks like he’ll be okay soon.”
“Really? That’s great news. No wonder you look happier.”
“…Thank you.”
Reassured by Team Leader Lee’s genuine smile, Seojin returned it as he pressed the B1 and close buttons.
Hearing the exchange, other teammates offered congratulatory comments, knowing how much Seojin had worried about his child.
There had been emergencies—rushed calls from daycare, frantic trips to the ER, and tearful demands for his presence from his sick child.
Despite the chaos, Seojin had persevered because he needed this job to provide for Jinseo.
Some had questioned why a Korea University graduate hadn’t aimed for a bigger company, but for Seojin, working here was already a blessing.
The midsized company’s strong benefits made it an excellent fit for raising Jinseo.
After bowing to thank his colleagues, Seojin checked his phone.
Sure enough, there was a message from Jinseo’s daycare teacher:
[Teacher: Jinseo had a great morning today—did well in gymnastics and drawing! His temperature is 36.6°C, so no worries. I’ll check again this afternoon and update you!]
The busy preparations for the May workshop left him no time to check.
Thankfully, today Jinseo seemed to be in good condition.
After sending a reply to the teacher to express his gratitude, Seojin finally caught his breath and headed to the cafeteria with his teammates.
Without hesitation, he chose a Korean meal with seolleongtang (ox bone soup) as the main dish and stood in line.
While waiting, he adjusted his grip on his phone.
There was something else he needed to take care of apart from replying to Jinseo’s teacher.
[I think I’ll get to your place a little after 8. Is that okay?]
Today was Jinseo’s first pheromone treatment.
Seojin had remembered Junyoung’s reminder to contact him beforehand and quickly calculated the time needed before sending the message.
Even if he left work promptly at 6, stopping by the kindergarten meant it would take about two hours to get to Junyoung’s place.
While he personally didn’t mind, he was worried that Jinseo might feel exhausted.
Still, the treatment couldn’t be skipped.
Swiping his employee ID and picking up his tray and utensils, Seojin considered whether taking a taxi from the kindergarten to Junyoung’s house might be a better idea.
Although, given the traffic at that hour, it probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.
“Seojin, over here!”
After collecting his heavy tray of seolleongtang, Seojin spotted Assistant Manager Jung calling out to him.
Heading in that direction, he found his teammates gathered, having managed to secure a table despite the growing crowd in the cafeteria.
Once Seojin settled in, the lively chatter over their meal began.
Even as he quietly ate, Seojin kept checking his phone intermittently, but there was no reply from Junyoung by the time they finished eating and left the cafeteria.
* * *
