Chapter Text
Ahn Jeong-won stares at his mother in abject disbelief.
“Eomma, you assigned me a what?”
It has barely been a day since his abrupt homecoming from Italy, and yet he hasn’t even had a chance to properly digest the sudden twist of events. His gaze falls on the newspaper laid out on his desk— his father’s desk—and a lump forms in his throat.
YULJE CHAIRMAN MURDERED—HOSPITAL IN DANGER?
Underneath the large, bold letters of the newspaper headline is a photo of the late Chairman Ahn Byeong-woo. He was a picture of health, wearing that warm, familiar smile Jeong-won was so used to seeing on his father’s face. Jeong-won can’t bring himself to read the full report just yet, but the gist of it he’d gathered from the phone call with his distraught mother: The late Chairman, Jeong-won’s father, was dead. The police suspect foul play and were on a man-hunt for the murderer.
His death shocked the entire hospital. The circumstances of it rocked the nation. And Jeong-won was forced to board the next plane to Seoul, his journey to priesthood coming to an abrupt end.
“A bodyguard,” Jung Rosa replies in a crisp, stern voice. Her face shows no sign of worry or agitation; she doesn’t look like the widowed wife of a man who had been found with a bullet to his head on his office desk.
“I heard you, eomma,” Jeong-won retorts, trying to keep his voice even because it’s not like it is just the two of them in this supposed ‘business meeting’. Ju Jong-su, the CEO of a Security Firm and a long-time friend of his mother’s, joins them today in an office Jeong-won had taken on as his own. The authorities had cordoned off his father’s office for the meantime while they carried on with the investigation. “What I want to understand is why. ”
“Maknae-ah, your father was m-murdered in this very hospital.” Jeong-won detected the quiver in her voice, momentarily breaking Jung Rosa’s facade. But quickly, as though nothing untoward had occurred, she schools her features into a placid, stern expression that somehow irks Jeong-won. “This is for your own safety,” Jung Rosa asserts, crossing her arms obstinately.
“Eomma, do you think I’m a child? I can take care of myself just fine.”
“Jeongwon-ah, your mother trusts you completely,” Ju Jong-su says to him in assurance, speaking for the first time since he arrived. “But these are extraordinary circumstances. The situation is more dire than you think. Your father’s murderer managed to sneak past security with a gun in hand. Who knows what else he’s capable of doing?”
“Then we tighten security! Increase the number of guards, put up more security cameras.”
“Easier said than done. I understand your concerns, Jeongwon-ah. But this is a hospital. Practically anyone can come and go within the premises. Security was already pretty tight when…”
His mother chokes back a sob. Fear and anguish floods her face, which seems to have aged significantly in the past few hours since her husband’s death.
In an instant, shame fills Jeong-won. He may have lost his father, but Rosa lost a husband. And under such horrifying circumstances, too. The extent of her pain and grief must be excruciating; not only that, the threat extended to her son, her beloved maknae. Her only remaining son, it seems, as the rest of her offspring had long since abandoned her for the Church.
Jeong-won heaves a resigned sigh. “Alright,” he concedes, albeit with much reluctance. “So, where’s my bodyguard? When can I meet him?”
Jong-su clears his throat. “You can come in now,” he announces loudly to the person supposedly behind the door.
When it opens, Jeong-won’s breath hitches. In a fraction of a second, a flood of memories come barreling into him.
Thin, slender arms enclosed around his much larger frame… two pairs of feet stumbling through the hallways of his parent’s house… With a strength that did not quite match her petite figure, she kicked open the door to his bedroom… Suddenly, he missed a step and stumbled face-down on the mattress, dragging her along with him…
His alcohol-addled brain registered a grunt of pain… Then, the strong hands that carried his inebriated body pushed him so that he was lying on his back… He coughed and then half-opened his eyes…
He saw her opening her mouth to speak, just as Jeong-won reached out a sluggish hand to touch her cheek; the words came out muffled and all he could do was focus on the pair of toffee-colored eyes gazing back at him earnestly…
They are as brilliant as the ones from his memories. Except this time, the mass of flesh, limbs, and breath that crossed the threshold of his office isn’t simply a figment of his nostalgic imagination. This is the closest he has gotten to her ever since that night she disappeared from his life forever.
And yet, they have never felt so distant.
“Jeongwon-ah, this is Agent Jang Gyeo-ul,” Jong-su introduces after the newcomer, Agent Jang Gyeo-ul, freed her piercing gaze from Jeong-won and bowed respectfully to everyone in the meeting room. “She will be your bodyguard. Agent Jang, this is Ahn Jeong-won, the new Chairman of Yulje Foundation.”
“Annyeonghasaeyo.”
Having recovered from the initial shock, Rosa expels a sharp breath of surprise.
“Omo, Jang Gyeo-ul, is that really you?” Excitedly, she rushes forward to envelope the newcomer in a tight embrace. “Goodness, it’s been years since I last saw you! Jeongwon-ah, what are you doing? Come greet—” Her elation, however, falters as she catches sight of the storm brewing in her son’s eyes.
Still, Jeong-won wills himself to ignore the dull ache in his chest. It would not do for him to be held hostage by memories. Not now, at least. He needs to assuage his mother’s fears so she could mourn properly. His father hadn't been dead for 24 hours and yet Jung Rosa had put arranging his funeral and securing Jeong-won’s Chairmanship above anything else.
“Annyeonghasaeyo,” Jeong-won greets his ‘bodyguard’ with a tight-lipped smile.
Agent Jang stares wordlessly at the hand he offers, her face stoic and impassive as she shakes it. “Pleasure to meet you, Ahn Jeongwon-ssi.”
Tension blankets the room, so thick that a single breath could cut through it.
Jong-su is baffled; he expected Jeong-won’s opposition but the cold reception came as a surprise. He thought assigning Jeong-won’s childhood best friend as his bodyguard would make him less hostile to the idea. Jong-su had not banked on the evidently painful history between the two.
Jong-su nods solemnly at Rosa, before directing a grave look at her youngest son. “Jeongwon-ah, Agent Jang will be with you at all times while the police carry on with the investigation of your father’s death.” An awkward pause ensues. “To clarify, this means Agent Jang will be staying at your place for the meantime. This is all temporary, of course,” he adds hastily. “Let’s hope we get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”
Jeong-won makes no reply. He locks eyes with Agent Jang, and he feels his stomach flip. But her face betrays no semblance of emotion.
“You needn’t worry,” Jong-su adds reassuringly, mistaking Jeong-won’s silence for skepticism. “Agent Jang graduated from Korea Military Academy, and was a Major in the army before she left two years ago and joined my security firm. I trained her myself. She is one of my best, most promising agents.”
I know, Jeong-won longed to say; at least, the part where Jang Gyeo-ul went to the Korea Military Academy without so much as a goodbye to him. But he holds himself back.
Tears well up in Rosa’s eyes. With trembling fingers, she covers Agent Jang’s hands with her own. A lone tear betrays the calm, composed facade she fought hard to maintain. “You’ve grown so well, Gyeoul-ah. I know it’s been years… but you and Jeong-won were such good friends when the both of you were younger.” Her voice catches in her throat, but she continues, “Please keep him safe.”
“Eomma,” Jeong-won starts to protest, but then Agent Jang cuts him off. Gently squeezing Rosa’s hands, she says in the soft, tender voice that sounded as if it were exhumed from the deepest recesses of his memories, “Don’t worry, eommoni. I’ll do my best.”
It is a safe, evidently scripted answer. But it seems good enough for Jung Rosa; she nods and then extricates her hands from Agent Jang’s. She didn’t look much, even harmless next to Jeong-won’s tall, broad-shouldered figure. Yet if Jong-su trusted Agent Jang, then she would, too.
Jong-su paces. “Jeongwon-ah, I’ll be frank with you. We—that is to say, I and the police investigators handling this case—have reason to believe that the murderer is right in this hospital.”
Rosa’s face turns white as a sheet.
Bile rises to Jeong-won’s throat. Could it be that his father was betrayed by someone he trusted?
He struggles to keep his voice steady when he replies, “Whom do you suspect, samchon?”
“I can’t say yet. Everything is just conjecture at this point. Nobody knows if Chairman Ahn was killed for political or personal reasons. But it seems plausible that, as the new chairman of the hospital board, there’s likely a target on your back, Jeongwon-ah.”
Instinctively, Rosa reaches for Jong-su’s hand, seeking comfort as he voiced out the dread she had shoved at the back of her mind the moment she found out Byeong-woo’s death had not been of natural causes.
“If the murderer is after the chairmanship and is inside the hospital,” Jeong-won muses out loud, “does that mean he’s going to be watching me closely?”
Looking grim, Jong-su nods slowly. “I also have other reasons for assigning Jang Gyeo-ul to this case. Aside, of course, from being one of my most reliable agents. People generally don’t expect a woman to fulfill the role of bodyguard, and I believe we can work that to our advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
A flash of hesitation flits across Jong-su’s face as he contemplates the next half of his spiel.
“In this world, two people can stick to a man’s side without arousing suspicion—a bodyguard and a girlfriend.” Jong-su exhales a deep breath, sparing a nervous glance at Jeong-won and Agent Jang. “I propose to make Jang Gyeo-ul both.”
Silence.
Jeong-won’s brows are knitted together as he cocks his head to the side. “Are you saying…?” Then, the sheer ludicrousness of the idea elicits a low chuckle from his mouth. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not actually suggesting that… Agent Jang and I pretend to date.” He laughs a little louder this time. But the amusement abruptly wanes. “Aren’t you?”
Almost desperately, he turns to his mother. “Eomma, you can’t be supportive of this, are you?”
“Maknae-ah…”
“You don’t have to pretend all the time,” Jong-su clarifies delicately. “Just when you’re in public. Of course, Agent Jang’s priority is still your protection. Whoever the murderer is, he won’t suspect that the woman you’ll always be seen with is your bodyguard and not your girlfriend.”
“This is a ridiculous idea!” Jeong-won exclaims in protest, leaping to his feet. “Look, samchon. I literally just left the seminary and became Chairman overnight. When word of our… relationship gets out, it will be a scandal!”
“Let me worry about that, Jeongwon-ah,” Rosa is quick to assure him. “If it means keeping this family safe, a little scandal won’t hurt.”
His heart pounds in his chest. He can’t believe the sudden plot twist. Here he is, a seminarian-turned-businessman overnight with the friend who had abandoned him all those years ago as his bodyguard.
Seething, Jeong-won feels the dull ache from earlier growing into a quiet rage. He needs to get away from this madness. Maybe, if he pinches himself hard enough, he would wake up in the quiet of his seminary bedroom and find out that all of this was just some twisted, terrible dream.
Without sparing so much as a glance at Agent Jang, Jong-su, or his mother, Jeong-won turns on his heel and sullenly walks out the door.
The delicious smell of kimchi jjigae wafts through the hallway of the floor where Jeong-won’s unit is located. Jang Gyeo-ul feels her stomach rumbling as she raises a trembling finger to press on the doorbell.
Keep it together, Jang Gyeo-ul.
After Jeong-won stormed out of Yulje Hospital, Jung Rosa pulled her aside and apologized for her son’s rudeness. His behavior toward Gyeo-ul confused her; hadn’t they been such good friends in the past? Jeong-won’s mother looked exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes indicating that she hadn’t gotten any sleep lately. Gyeo-ul quickly gives her assurance that Jeong-won’s behavior didn’t affect her in the slightest. He’s in a lot of stress, she reasons. His father had just died and, in an instant, he was uprooted from the life he had built for himself.
God knows that’s the life he’d been dreaming of forever. Thankfully, Gyeo-ul manages to catch herself before any damage could be done. Jung Rosa-nim had enough on her plate—she didn’t need the unpleasant reasons behind Jeong-won and Gyeo-ul’s rift on top of everything else.
Gyeo-ul promises to do her job well; regardless of his feelings toward their arrangement, Yulje’s new Chairman was safe in Agent Jang’s hands.
She refuses to let their tumultuous history get in the way of Jeong-won’s safety. He has every right to feel hurt. His resentment toward her is justified. The moment she walked away and never looked back, Gyeo-ul had forfeited the title of best friend. She had lost his trust; she understands that, but that doesn’t mean she would simply stand by and do nothing while a faceless murderer plotted his demise.
There’s a knot between Jeong-won’s eyebrows when he swings the door open.
“Come in,” he tells her brusquely, before turning his back on her.
Palms sweating, Gyeo-ul follows him to the kitchen. She takes in her surroundings. For the son of a chaebol, Jeong-won’s apartment is fairly modest in size and furnishing. The walls are all white and what little furniture he has are in neutral tones. No pictures on the walls, she notes with a frown, remembering that Jeong-won’s hobby was photography, before she remembers that he had just flown in from Italy. He probably hasn’t had time to settle in.
His home lacked warmth and color, much like their present relationship. If one could even call it a relationship.
Gyeo-ul hopes the police investigation finished soon. If there’s one thing she remembers with clarity, it is that Ahn Jeong-won could be as petty as a ten-year-old. He held on to grudges really well. And if their forced cohabitation would drag on for longer than expected, Gyeo-ul fears the two of them may end up killing each other. That is, if the murderer didn’t get to them first.
“We don’t have to talk. I understand that you must still be angry with me. You don’t have to think of me as a friend, Jeongwon-ah. I can just be your bodyguard.”
Clenching his teeth, Jeong-won turns his body to face her. In his tiny, cramped kitchen apartment, there is little distance separating him from Gyeo-ul.
But despite the proximity, Gyeo-ul feels a thousand miles away.
“Angry with you?” Jeong-won sneers. Clad in a flowery apron with one hand brandishing a gochujang -stained ladle, he hardly looks intimidating, but Gyeo-ul recoils. “What reason could I possibly have to be angry with you?”
Her eyes sting with tears. She averts her gaze, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“I’m sorry I left—”
“No, you’re not,” he interrupts in a clipped tone. “If you truly felt sorry for me, you wouldn’t have waited 20 years before coming back. You wouldn’t have waited until my father died before you apologized for abandoning me.”
“Then allow me to rephrase.” Her tear-filled gaze locks with his and she juts out her chin resolutely. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. That’s my biggest regret in life. And I will regret hurting you until the day I die.” She exhales a shaky breath. “But I’m here now, Jeongwon-ah. I’m willing to let the past stay in the past. And I swear to you, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
“If what you said is true, that you’re willing to ‘let the past stay in the past’, then tell me this, Jang Gyeo-ul: Why did you leave? Why did you choose to stay in the past in the first place?”
At that moment, she is overcome with the desire to tell him the truth, if only so he could trust her once more. But the answer ties itself in knots on her tongue.
How could she tell him? No scenario wherein her mission to protect him would not be compromised by the hard, painful truth.
She would never be able to take back the last twenty years. But she can at least serve penance by keeping him out of harm’s way. It’s the least she could do.
Even if it cost Gyeo-ul her life.
“Well?”
He was lying next to her, his heavy breaths filled with the pungent odor of tequila… His arms held her close, as if she were something precious and important… She longed to stay in that embrace, longed to be held by him in this way until the hairs on their heads turned silver…
With all the strength she could muster, she pushed him so that he laid on his back… He coughed out a noise that sounded halfway between a grunt and a giggle… Unbridled happiness had always been her favorite look on him…
Sluggishly, her inebriated friend lifted a hand to her cheek… Before she even knew what was happening, the words tumbled out of her lips … She could barely hear herself against the wild, deafening sound of her own heart…
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Her words sound cold, foreign even to her own ears. Gyeo-ul feels as if the retort and the voice belonged to somebody other than herself. “I left because I went to Korea Military Academy. And if I recall correctly, you were going to Seoul National University. We were both going to drift apart eventually. I was doing us a favor.”
She makes the mistake of looking into his soulful eyes, so deep she could drown in the dismay and resentment whirling inside them.
Jeong-won searches her eyes for a hint— any hint —of deception. But however bright they are, they have always been difficult to read. Unlike him, Gyeo-ul had the uncanny ability to hide her emotions well; it made her a fine soldier and an excellent bodyguard. Jeong-won has no doubt any criminal would have a difficult job of getting past her.
Finding none, however, he sighs. “Then, don’t make that promise, Jang Gyeo-ul. How can I trust you when you say you’ll stay by my side and keep me safe… when you already broke that promise 20 years ago?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply and turns his back on her once more. He turns off the stove. The kitchen apartment becomes filled with the rich, tangy aroma of kimchi jjigae .
“Let’s eat. Kimchi jjigae is your favorite, isn’t it?” Jeong-won sits directly across from her without making eye contact. So close and yet so far away. He pushes a bowl full of the jjigae towards her, muttering, “We’ll need to build up our strength if we’re going to pretend we’re something other than complete strangers to each other.”