That weekend, Jae-geon skipped the promise neither of them had ever put into words and drove down to Seoan.

He needed Seo Seok-su to finish crafting the tableware he’d picked out for Not with Hwi. Since he was already there, they could also settle on the design for the dessert plates.

“I need a long oval plate. I’d like both ends to curve up, like the roof of a hanok.”

Rather than drawing up a design entirely from his own imagination, it was far more efficient to adjust the sketches as the artisan offered his input. That was precisely why he needed his grandfather.

“If every piece has to come out exactly the same, that’ll be a headache.”

“Are you saying it can’t be done?”

“I’m saying I’ll give it my best. That’s all.”

While the old craftsman narrowed his eyes in thought, Jae-geon’s mind wandered to someone else.

To that troublesome little doe who bounded around the kitchen with endless energy, only to freeze stiff whenever she found herself standing in front of him.

“…Ha.”

That morning, he’d gone out to buy breakfast.

Knowing Hae-som preferred mild, lightly seasoned food, he’d driven all the way to the outskirts of Seoul.

When he returned carrying two bowls of steaming gukbap, the only thing waiting for him was cold silence.

His gaze lingered on the faint traces Hae-som had left behind on the sheets, and he let out a dry laugh.

What’s the term people use for this again…?

Hit it and quit it?

Being on the receiving end for the first time left a bitter taste in his mouth, like biting into unripe fruit.

Honestly… she was something else.

Ridiculous.

Infuriating.

But what was he supposed to do?

The truth was, they were nothing more than sex partners.

He stood in the garden, watching the tiny footprints she’d left behind wash away beneath the rain.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

Maybe I should be the one making Hae-som restless.

Wouldn’t she try to catch his attention again, just like when she’d tied her apron strings loose on purpose?

These days, all that mattered to her was that damned sleep.

He’d started making her coffee himself after forbidding it.

He’d corrected her knife grip.

He’d left just enough room for hope.

Yet he’d never once offered to help her sleep again.

Childish as the scheme was, her body gave her away every time.

Her skin warmed like glowing charcoal.

Her eyes lost their focus.

Her breathing lost its rhythm.

Even so…

She never once asked him to let her sleep beside him again.

She only held her aching hips and endured the feverish warmth that lingered in her body.

He hadn’t been rough enough for the aftereffects of sex to last nearly a week.

Unless…

It was that time of the month.

He wasn’t interested in that, and without ever saying it aloud, they had both accepted that this week would be a break.

Even now, with both time and distance between them, Hae-som refused to leave his thoughts.

He really had been bewitched.

A dry branch scraped against the ground with a soft tap, tap, pulling him back to the present.

Watching the image of Hae-som skipping away like a young deer disappear once more, Jae-geon turned toward Seo Seok-su.

---

Jong-myeong, who had been sprawled across the daecheong like a bundle of dried radish greens, suddenly picked a fight.

“You heartless brat.. Do you even know how old your father is? This is elder abuse.”

The word heartless was the last thing someone who had scandalized the entire Seo family by becoming a monk had any business saying.

Jae-geon snorted.

Jong-myeong—

No, Seo Hyeon-cheol—

had once been a rising astronomer.

Not because his research had attracted offers from NASA.

His reputation came from his face and his silver tongue.

People joked that when it came to charming women, he was operating at NASA level.

Even after retreating to a mountain observatory to devote himself to research, he never looked bored.

He finished only the work assigned to him, then spent the rest of his days lounging in bed.

He’d been unmarried.

There had been nothing morally questionable about his lifestyle.

Then one day, one of the many women he’d casually dated appeared before him with a swollen belly.

Five months pregnant.

They married.

For a while, they built a warm, happy family together.

His aunt had been gentle and kind.

Whenever his own mother was too weak from illness, Jae-geon found comfort in her warmth instead.

Then tragedy struck without warning.

A month before Jae-geon was due to start elementary school, his mother died of cancer.

His aunt was only four days away from giving birth.

The house, once filled with anticipation over the coming baby, fell into mourning overnight.

While Hyeon-cheol silently kept vigil at the funeral, his phone rang.

It was his wife.

“Hyeon-cheol… the baby’s stopped moving. You don’t think something’s wrong, do you?”

If they hadn’t been living in the mountain dormitory beside the observatory…

Maybe things would have turned out differently.

They called an ambulance immediately.

It still took nearly two hours to reach the hospital.

The light bleeding became a torrent.

His aunt slowly lost consciousness.

By the time they finally arrived, the doctor delivered the news with a devastated expression.

Neither mother nor baby had survived.

The man had never seemed especially attached to either his wife or unborn child disappeared without a trace.

He never returned for his sister’s funeral.

Nor for his wife and child’s.

The family spent each day wondering if he’d simply gone off somewhere to die.

Jae-geon finally found him years later, while passing through before leaving for France.

After drifting from place to place, Hyeon-cheol had settled only five hundred meters from the family home.

At Hunam-sa.

He lived among the young novice monks.

One little boy, with a freshly shaved head, looked almost exactly the age his own child would have been.

“Unc…”

The word died on Jae-geon’s lips.

Hyeon-cheol was smiling.

Brighter than he’d ever smiled while chasing women.

Brighter than he’d smiled as a husband.

To Hae-som, Jong-myeong might have been a respected teacher.

But Seo Hyeon-cheol…

He was nothing more than a runaway monk and a man who had abandoned his family.

“And you’re calling someone else ungrateful?”

Jong-myeong happily stuffed himself with pancakes his ninety-year-old mother had sent through the rain, washing them down with makgeolli like a rebellious teenager.

Seeing Jae-geon frown, he waved his chopsticks before fishing a vibrating phone from his robes.

The moment he saw the caller ID, his face lit up.

Jae-geon didn’t need to guess.

Hae-som.

Or Yoo Eun-seong.

If not them…

Maybe Eun-ho.

As usual, he was right.

A familiar hoarse voice came through the phone beneath the steady patter of rain.

“Venerable, it’s Hae-som.”

“What’s wrong with your voice? Are you sick? Can’t sleep again?”

“I’ve actually been sleeping pretty well lately. I think I found something that works.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“It… just sort of happened.”

Jae-geon knew exactly what she meant.

Guilt surged up from somewhere deep in his chest, leaving a sour ache in his stomach.

Apparently the topic embarrassed Hae-som too, because she smoothly changed the subject.

“I actually called because I got my first paycheck.”

“How much is Jae-geon paying you?”

“A lot. Really a lot. I even got an incentive bonus.”

Jong-myeong narrowed his eyes in surprise.

“Nothing cures stress better than money. These days, owning plenty is practically a virtue.”

“I wanted to get you a little gift. Is there anything you need?”

She was far more generous than her salary justified.

Was I on her Santa list?

Of course not.

Jae-geon couldn’t help smiling at himself.

“You seem to have forgotten monks live in the modern world too. Forget something small—buy me something expensive. Jae-geon’s Cadillac looked pretty nice.”

He jerked his chin toward the second car parked outside the gate.

“Or maybe a Porsche Panamera?”

“If you keep asking for more, you’ll go bald. Then again, that’d save you the trouble of shaving your head, wouldn’t it?”

Their back-and-forth was effortless.

A man once famous for his womanizing couldn’t seem to get the upper hand against her.

Jong-myeong burst into booming laughter.

Hae-som’s bright laugh followed a moment later.

Both sounds lodged in Jae-geon’s chest like thorns.

“You’re squeezing blood from a stone.”

Jae-geon’s dry comment earned nothing more than a snort as Jong-myeong ended the call.

“I taught my kids to share even a single bean.”

“Some monk you are. Shaking down young people for their hard-earned money.”

“No wonder people keep calling me a fake monk.”

Jae-geon gave him a flat look at the unexpected self-awareness.

Jong-myeong merely shrugged.

“You’ve seen it yourself. Hae-som isn’t the type anyone can push around. If it’s no, it’s no.”

That stubborn streak was satisfying to watch when she shut down Yoo Jae-min’s constant flirting or ignored Yoo Eun-seong’s lingering stares.

The problem was…

Jae-geon had apparently been lumped into the same category.

Not once had she called him the way she’d called Jong-myeong.

With a quiet sigh, Jae-geon brushed his damp bangs back as raindrops splashed across his forehead.

Jong-myeong stared thoughtfully at the phone for a moment before asking,

“Has Hae-som settled in well?”

“Too well.”

“That’s just how she is. She’s always worked herself to the bone. Ever since she was little.”

Sensing another round of Please take good care of her, Jae-geon cut him off.

“Do you know Yoo Eun-seong? I heard he lived at the temple with Hae-som.”

Back then, besides the little novice girl with the shaved head, there had been two boys around the same age.

One looked so skinny he barely seemed to eat.

The other looked sturdy enough to have stolen all the first boy’s share of food.

If his guess was right, Yoo Eun-seong had been the sturdy one.

Then who had the frail one been?

…Oppa Eun-ho?

Eun-seong.

Eun-ho.

Maybe they were brothers.

They looked nothing alike, but what were the odds that two boys sharing the same generational syllable—Eun—would end up in the same temple by coincidence?

For a split second, Jong-myeong’s dark brown eyes wavered.

“I know him well. He’s Hae-som’s friend. He just finished military service and is preparing to return to the National Police University… But how do you know Eun-seong?”

“He came to our restaurant a while back.”

Jong-myeong’s face tightened.

Jae-geon was certain now.

There was something between Hae-som and Eun-seong.

“Eun-seong? Why would he…”

“He applied to be a valet.”

“At the restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh… uh…”

Listening to the flustered response, Jae-geon found himself regretting leaving the front-of-house hiring to Cha Jun-won.

Jong-myeong opened and closed his mouth like a fish before abruptly jumping to his feet, muttering something about an urgent matter at Hunam-sa.

Curiously, he never once reminded Jae-geon to look after Hae-som.

The omission left Jae-geon with an uneasy feeling he couldn’t quite explain.