A child who looks like me

Jeong-o flinched.

She was captivated by the smile he had, which was just like seven years ago.

As she showed discomfort, Ji-heon quickly withdrew his hand.

The atmosphere in the restaurant became warmer.

She shouldn’t have brought up the topic of her ex-boyfriend.

She was afraid that continuing the conversation would lead to another blunder, so Jeong-o quickly shifted the subject.

“I’ve shared about myself, so now it’s your turn, Director.”

“…”

“I heard you had a car accident a few years ago.”

She cautiously opened the conversation. Ji-heon looked a bit surprised that she knew about his accident.

“It was seven years ago.”

“Were you badly hurt?”

“I was hurt quite a bit, but I’m completely healed now.”

“I heard you… lost your memory.”

That was a bold question, even for someone who was close to him.

Jeong-o felt tense, watching Ji-heon’s reaction, worried he might take offense.

As his eyes narrowed, she swallowed hard.

But for some reason, there seemed to be a hint of amusement in his gaze. It felt like he found her questioning intriguing.

“You seem to know a lot about me.”

“…I saw news articles about it.”

Under his probing gaze, Jeong-o fumbled for words.

“But my name wouldn’t have been in those articles.”

“…”

“Did you search for me out of curiosity?”

“No, it was my team leader who told me about it!”

Oh no… that was supposed to be a secret.

Jeong-o immediately scrunched her face and bowed her head. In her excitement, she had let slip something she shouldn’t have said.

With her hands clasped together and a pitiful tone, she pleaded without raising her head.

“…Please pretend you didn’t hear anything about the team leader.”

Ji-heon found her entire demeanor amusing.

After all, the car accident was his personal matter, and it was fascinating to see her show such serious interest in it. Moreover, he found it funny how she quickly got flustered when he turned the tables and questioned her.

“If I’m not careful, I might touch on something I shouldn’t.”

He felt that if he didn’t focus, he might repeat the earlier mistake.

Clenching his fist under the table, Ji-heon finally shared what she was curious about.

“I lost some memories, and my personality changed a bit.”

“…How much of your memory do you not recall?”

“Probably around three years’ worth, from when I was twenty-four to twenty-six.”

“…”

“There’s no need to look at me like that. Those memories probably weren’t useful anyway.”

He turned his head slightly, unable to bear her gaze.

He welcomed her interest, but he didn’t want her to look at him with pity. He didn’t want her sympathy.

“Most of my memories are likely from my military service, and even aside from that, my life must have been so dull that there wouldn’t be any memorable experiences to recall.”

“You don’t know that.”

Jeong-o lightly tried to downplay her concern, but she promptly countered his statement.

Her expression was serious, causing Ji-heon to fall silent.

“How do you know what’s a useless memory and what isn’t if you don’t even know what you’ve forgotten?”

It sounded almost like she was arguing.

Her reasoning was compelling enough to make Ji-heon ponder deeply.

After a long silence, she asked again.

“Have you ever tried to remember? You might have lent someone money without realizing it.”

“If I were owed money, they would have come looking for me by now.”

“But what if you were the one who lent money?”

“That’s just unavoidable. There’s no point in whining about it now.”

Whether he had borrowed money or lent it, it was all his concern. Ji-heon couldn’t understand why her face looked like she had lost money.

Before he knew it, time flew by, and it was well past seven o’clock.

“Let’s get going. If we leave now, we should get there just in time.”

Ji-heon stood up first.

As he walked away, Jeong-o felt a pang in her chest.

“He has no will to regain his memory!”

Still, she had gained some information about him.

He seemed to accept the fact that he had lost his memory without any particular emotion. He firmly believed that there wasn’t anything of significance to recall.

And she could also speculate that there likely wasn’t anyone around him trying to help him recover those memories.

Or perhaps someone was actively preventing him from remembering.

Jeong-o recalled the day she met his mother.

It was a brief encounter, but she clearly sensed that his mother harbored a strong dislike for her.

“Does she think the accident was my fault?”

Did that lead to Ji-heon trying even harder to erase his memories? To ensure he wouldn’t meet her again?

Despite the confusion swirling in her mind, Jeong-o felt a newfound determination from their conversation today.

She needed to find out more about his mother.

She would do whatever it took.

With her resolve ignited, Jeong-o exited the building.

As summer approached, the hot midday wind turned slightly cooler with the setting sun. The roses decorating the outer wall of the building couldn’t withstand the breeze and dropped their petals at Jeong-o’s feet.

She bent down absentmindedly to pick up a petal.

The vibrant red petal felt alive, reminiscent of Ye-na’s chubby little lips.

A memory of a late autumn day spent with her child surfaced.

“Mr. Jeong Ji-heon, that day Ye-na learned about the seasons at preschool.”

“Mom, this is autumn! Autumn has fallen!”

Ye-na pointed to a fallen leaf on the ground, declaring that autumn had come.

A single leaf represented the entire season of autumn.

She had been unable to share that beautiful moment with him.

There had been a time when she cried while looking at flowers blooming, forgetting the seasons.

Back then, the seasons that seemed to pass by slowly were now fleeting, like the leaf her child discovered.

Would she ever be able to share this story with him?

She heard Ji-heon descending the stairs.

Jeong-o purposely smiled.

“Mr. Jeong Ji-heon, you have to remember on your own.”

“I can’t keep pushing you. I don’t want you to think I’m intruding.”

“But if you come closer, I’ll be willing to take that step.”

“So please, don’t give up. Keep trying.”

“You can do it, Mr. Jeong Ji-heon.”

As Ji-heon finished paying and emerged from the building, Jeong-o, standing facing the wall, heard his footsteps and turned her body.

Her expression, previously blank, seemed to brighten into a refined smile. Ji-heon knew it was a practiced smile, but it was still lovely.

“Director, thank you for the meal.”

“Yes, it was good.”

Ji-heon nodded.

It had been a satisfying meal for him. He was relieved to see that she seemed to have bounced back from the previous day’s hurt and was glad she showed interest in his life.

Jeong-o took out her phone and said, “I’ll find the way to the tasting event.”

Then, she subtly added her feelings about the day.

“And Director, I hope you find your memories.”

“…”

“They can’t be useless memories. I believe they aren’t.”

Ji-heon’s eyes widened.

Comfort and encouragement had come to him in an unexpected form.

“They might be the most precious memories hidden deep within you, like a time capsule.”

“…”

“So precious that they are kept safe to avoid being harmed.”

Her voice wafted through the night air, caressing his head.

He felt a warmth rising in his eyes.

From time to time, he thought about it.

He felt there couldn’t possibly be anything valuable for someone like him, who was treated coldly by everyone. Yet still, perhaps…

“Maybe there’s something precious to me, after all.”

His mother had told him that it was an unimportant memory, that he shouldn’t be bound by the past, but still… maybe, just maybe…

“Just one might exist.”

He had only imagined it, never shared it with anyone. He never expected to hear such secretive words from someone else, especially from Lee Jeong-o.

Suddenly, her feet moved with purpose.

In that moment, she was intently focused on her phone, gauging the direction to the tasting event.

Her foot shifted sideways.

“Director, this way…”

Thud.

As she took a step, she stumbled right into his embrace.

He instinctively caught her as her head bumped against his chest.

Without realizing it, his hand cupped her face.

Even though he was holding her, it felt as if she was drawing him in. He lowered his head firmly.

He might have known this for a long time.

That someday, it would come to this.

Jeong-o had been so engrossed in finding directions on her phone that she ended up burying her head against his chest.

She felt embarrassed after offering such forward encouragement and bowed her head deeply.

Though she steadied herself quickly after he caught her, he suddenly brought her face closer.

It felt like a strong determination in his hand, as if he wanted her to look at him.

“No, no, mister! I didn’t come here to lean on you…”

Though she recognized that something was off, she felt a strange hesitation to move.

Thud, thud, thud, thud… Her heart was doing its job perfectly.

“This is ridiculous…”