“Ignore it.”

Careless, weightless words drifted through the air, as though a storm had just swept past. Blood trickled down the man’s hand as he spoke them.

He tells me to ignore it, yet he himself is so shaken he doesn’t even realize he’s hurt. Her voice, once shrunk to a miserable whisper, rose now with sharp disappointment.

“Why should I ignore it?”

“Because it’s fine to.”

His words were rough, but what Ji‑won said was never wrong.

Amidst the scandal sweeping through the industry, only Seong Hae-som would bear the brunt of it. Even if none of this had happened, Ji‑won would have stepped forward to fan the flames of rumor anyway.

As for her deliberately sparking that fire—Jae-geon would have no choice but to watch it unfold. Ji‑won’s influence was immense; he would never voluntarily take on harm he could avoid.

It only made sense that a powerless, inexperienced rookie would take all the damage. Cruelly, it did.

But what stung most, what felt like the deepest betrayal, was Jae-geon—who had known exactly how this would end, yet said nothing.

Was all the time we shared, all the nights we spent together, worth so little to you?

Hae-som coldly pulled her hand away as he reached for her again.

“You brought me here just to show me this, didn’t you?”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“Then why did you bring me?”

It wasn’t really his fault. She’d acted on foolish anxiety, driven by a fear of seeing Jae-geon and Ji‑won together—something that hurt more than having her pride trampled. It was a reckless choice, all her own.

Everything was her fault. If she’d never come here, she would never have had to endure this humiliation.

She wasn’t so much hurt by his cutting words as she was suddenly, wide awake.

What am I even doing here?

“Let’s go upstairs first. We’ll talk there.”

“No.”

A glint of tears shone in her dark eyes as she looked at him—raw, bare hurt.

“I think… I lost my mind for a moment. I haven’t slept properly, and my judgment’s gone blurry. I had no right to set my heart on you, Chef.”

A deep crease formed between his handsome brows.

“I can’t keep clinging to you forever. But you’ve been so kind, so caring… I suppose I let myself believe things that weren’t true. This internship will be over soon anyway.”

“…….”

“Lying to my parents all this time… only today have I realized how foolish I’ve been.”

Tears welled in eyes she’d held open with sheer will. Her nose stung, her chest ached—but she did not look away from him.

“I’m the only one who gets hurt here. Just like always.”

“I’m not a fool—you think I’d stand by and watch that happen? Huh?”

“But you did!”

The moment a tear fell, he pulled her into his arms. His broad shoulders, always steady and strong, wrapped around her like a noose. Hae-som gasped for breath, sobbing against him.

“I never thought you’d be this stubborn, even after I brought Chef here. I’m sorry.”

He patted her back gently, but she could not calm down.

After a long while, when she’d almost run out of breath crying, Hae-som pushed him away with all her strength. She stood up from the sofa, and he stared at her, stunned.

Steeling her trembling heart, she bowed stiffly, as if nothing was wrong.

“No matter what the reason was… I never should have acted this way with you. I’m sorry.”

She tried to look composed, but her hands shook as she grabbed nothing at all—she’d forgotten her bag—and hurried out.

“Song Hae-som!”

She’d barely made it past the bar and out the lobby when he caught her arm. He spun her around, pulling her flush against his chest.

There was no space between them. Through his shirt, she felt his heart hammering—faster than it ever had when they were together.

He was terrified. She had no idea why.

His arms wrapped tight around her, and blood still seeped from his wound. It looked deep.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Does that matter right now?”

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m asking—does that matter? You’re the one who’s hurting.”

Hae-som bit back a bitter smile.

“Why does it matter?”

His crossed arms slowly loosened, turning her to face him fully.

“Why do you think I did it?”

“…….”

“After everything I’ve done for you—why do you think I did it?”

His face was wrecked with pain, yet still so handsome. Her heart raced despite herself.

She hated how easily she was swept along by him. Hae-som stepped back. He took two steps forward. And then—

“I… I like you.”

It sounded like nothing more than a cheap line from a smooth talker.

---

Hae-som turned away and hailed a taxi, driving off into the night. Left behind, Jae-geon was led by Chef Jean back to his quarters and forced to sit on the sofa.

Decades in the kitchen had seen him every kind of injury. Without flinching, Jean cleaned and bandaged the cut, then clicked his tongue sharply to snap Jae-geon out of his daze.

“It’s not bad enough for the hospital—so stop acting like a child.”

But Jae-geon’s gaze was fixed not on his hand, but on the things Hae-som had left behind: her backpack strung with keychains, Chef Jean’s cookbook, her wallet, and her phone.

How did she expect to get home with no money at all?

He burned with the urge to run after her—but knew she would not welcome it. She was already hurt enough.

“I’m the only one who gets hurt here. Just like always.”

He never meant for her to get hurt. As long as Chef Jean was there, Cha Ji‑won would never dare lay a hand on her. He only wanted her to see for herself what her relationship with Ji‑won really was.

That it was nothing like what they had—nothing in depth, nothing in meaning.

He’d gambled, and lost. Badly.

He had no idea where to start fixing this. Staying here, using his injury as an excuse, was only to ask Jean for advice—and to find out what Ji‑won had really been up to.

Jean sat flipping through his cookbook, now marked with a label: [☆Hae-som☆]. He let out quiet sounds of wonder, chuckling at the new recipes she’d added in messy, earnest handwriting.

And there was so much more to be proud of: her sharp first impression, how she’d stumbled through the main kitchen, the way she’d thrown herself into tasting day and night.

He wanted to say all of it—but the words died in his throat.

Chef Jean spoke for him instead.

“She reminds me of you, when you were young. No—maybe even more stubborn. You never had this hunger to learn. All you ever did was talk back to me.”

He gave a faint, knowing smile.

“To think someone barely twenty‑odd could be so talented. I only saw her as sweet and quiet at first—but once she started working, she was quick, sharp, and steady with her hands. Even among the best chefs in the industry, she stood out.”

From the kitchen, the dining room was always in view—and vice versa. Jean had been watching her all through service.

And he’d seen everything.

“You wouldn’t have brought her here for nothing. Am I right to think you want her on my team?”

That… had been part of it. He’d hoped that once she was ready, Jean would take her on properly.

But now that he’d lost her, the thought made him sick. He wanted to keep her close, to hold onto her however he could—even if it meant being overbearing. He was terrified of losing the nights they’d shared, of losing her entirely.

Her phone lay silent in his hands. No way to reach her, no idea where she’d gone. He shook—not from pain, but panic.

Jean watched him quietly, then said:

“She told everyone we’ve been together for years. Miss Cha, I mean.”

The sudden change of topic almost felt like a relief. Jae-geon just looked at him, waiting.

Jean smiled faintly.

“I ignored her messages at first. I had no time for rumors about my students. But she flew all the way to America just to see me. How could I say no to that?”

Jae-geon turned Hae‑som’s phone over in his hands.

“When was that?”

“Not long ago. Early summer, maybe a month or two.”

That lined up exactly with when Ji‑won had been hounding her nonstop. Yet on her phone, all he found was passion for cooking.

He smiled sadly at the note she’d set as her lock screen:

[Develop burdock recipe – dessert is still the tricky part ㅠㅇㅜ]

[List ingredients that go well with burdock. Must check if garnish is needed!]

[Get Chef Jean’s autograph. Maybe a selfie too!!!♡]

While Ji‑won played games with her feelings, Hae-som had given herself fully to her work. She’d struggled so hard with the fig dish—how far would she go this time with burdock, a notoriously difficult ingredient? Would she lose heart?

He could have suggested something easier, he thought.

Jean went on.

“How could I turn down a girl in tears, asking for help? Especially when she said she’s like a sister to Jun‑hee.”

“…….”

“But seeing you two just now… I realized I was played. I think I understand why you’re fighting. If you want, I’ll cancel the shoot right now. I’ll pay whatever penalty.”

Cutting ties with Ji‑won would bring its own problems—but he could not stand by and let this happen.

Sponsors could be renegotiated, replaced… and there was always Jinwoorim as a backup.

Jae-geon grabbed his jacket and stood up.

“Leaving?”

“If she asks, please take a photo with her. And sign her book.”

“…What?”

Leaving his old mentor staring after him, Jae-geon stepped out into the pouring rain. It felt like a bad omen—but he didn’t care.

He would learn soon enough that it was nothing but his own pride.