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Chapter 50

Silence fell.

Just as casually as she'd remarked how delicious the tteokbokki was, Si-hyun announced her resignation as if it were the most natural thing in the world and popped another piece into her mouth.

It was a strange thing to say while eating tteokbokki at a tteokbokki shop, but Si-hyun didn't seem awkward at all. As if she'd been preparing for this moment for a long time.

The shop owner, who had been watching them, was now nodding off in her chair, and from a TV in the corner, the sound of guests laughing boisterously drifted out. Everything flowed as naturally as part of everyday life—except for one person, who found the situation anything but natural.

"It's not about the pay. I know it's hard to find a job with these conditions at my experience level."

She still spoke calmly, chewing on the rice cake as if carrying on ordinary conversation with a friend over tteokbokki.

"I've been working too hard. I'm tired. I need a break."

Hae-joon didn't even blink. He sat with his arms crossed, frozen like a statue, quietly listening to her.

"Fortunately, most of the urgent tasks are already wrapped up, so there shouldn't be a big gap in work. I should probably let HR know. Should I have them post the opening right away?"

Interrupting before Hae-joon could open his mouth, Si-hyun kept talking without pause. She suddenly wondered if she'd said too much, too quickly.

"I know this isn't the right place to bring this up—eating tteokbokki and all—but I thought I'd never say it if I didn't now. I'm sorry if I caught you off guard."

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, took a sip of water, and slowly studied his expression. It was unreadable. Was he upset? Or did he not care at all? Seeing that expression, she felt more unsettled than relieved, even after finally saying it. The man who usually fired back so easily was now so silent it was unnerving.

"Why would I be,"

"......"

"caught off guard?"

His voice was clipped, low, as if her words could never affect him.

"Would a secretary quitting catch me off guard?"

"...Probably not."

Si-hyun thought of the nine people who had passed through this position before her. She'd never met them, but she often felt a vague sense of kinship with those who had endured Hae-joon's prickly nature.

To Hae-joon, she was just one of many. So his reaction made sense. She'd just worked a little longer. To him, she was just another secretary passing through.

"That's good, then."

"Good?"

"I mean..."

For a moment, she'd entertained the fleeting hope that he might tell her not to go. That he might stop her, saying she couldn't just quit. He'd even offered to make her permanent, and she'd worked hard—so maybe...

She'd worried about what to say if he did stop her. But now, hearing him speak as if her leaving was no big deal, she felt relieved. Yet, a part of her felt a little hurt. Even empty words of protest would have been nice. But he wasn't that kind of person. He said exactly what he meant—he wouldn't bother with empty words for a secretary.

"Anyway, thank you for everything."

She bowed her head and offered her thanks. She'd agonized over what last words to say to Hae-joon, and this was what she'd chosen. Until a moment ago, she'd spoken calmly, without much emotion. She'd practiced this scene alone, looking in the mirror, imagining him in front of her.

But when she said thank you, something felt different. A lump rose in her throat. Not wanting to show it, she quickly stood up.

"Since I suggested this place, I'll pay for the tteokbokki today."

---

He'd opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. The icy atmosphere was so tense that even a touch could cut, so he kept his eyes forward and drove without a word. Years of driving for Hae-joon had honed his instincts. Today, he felt that speaking carelessly could bring a scathing retort, so he kept his mouth shut and focused on driving.

"Have you ever thought about quitting?"

"Huh?"

Driver Choi thought he'd misheard. It seemed like an odd question to come from someone who'd been in a low mood all day. He tried to decipher the intent behind it, but even after all his years with Hae-joon, he couldn't figure it out.

"Is that a hard question?"

At the sharp, cutting tone, Driver Choi tensed and spoke.

"No, sir. I've never thought about it."

"Everyone must have those thoughts at least once."

Driver Choi's mind grew more confused. What kind of answer was he expecting? One wrong answer and he didn't know what would come back.

"Just be honest."

The tone suggested he'd show no mercy if he tried to scheme. When Hae-joon spoke like that, honesty was the best policy.

"I've had those thoughts, yes. But I never really planned to quit. Work can be tough sometimes, so you think about it for a moment. I think all office workers do."

Driver Choi's words dragged on—a kind of self-defense. But Hae-joon seemed lost in his own thoughts and remained silent.

"Everyone does, you say?"

"Yes... is there any office worker who doesn't?"

Yesterday, when Si-hyun said she liked tteokbokki, Hae-joon had ordered him to drive to the place. He'd quickly set the navigation and headed there. After they arrived, Si-hyun had insisted he join them, saying the food was delicious, but he'd firmly refused. The face in the rearview mirror clearly said, "Go home." Hae-joon's sharp eyes had said it all.

He'd been hungry too, but he knew better than to intrude between them—he'd have gotten indigestion. So he'd dropped them off and left right away.

Yesterday, Hae-joon hadn't seemed upset. The only thing that could have happened was eating tteokbokki with Si-hyun. So why was he like this now?

"You wouldn't say it out loud, though."

"......"

"Saying it means you really want to quit."

"Probably... that's likely, yes."

Whatever was bothering him, Driver Choi just nodded along to the exasperated tone. But who was quitting? Otherwise, Hae-joon wouldn't be talking like this. Surely not Secretary Cha? That couldn't be. There'd been no sign of it. Driver Choi dismissed the thought entirely, assuming it couldn't be her.

Hae-joon had done the same. When Si-hyun asked him what he'd think if she quit while drunk, he'd brushed it off as drunken rambling. Work could be tough—maybe it had slipped out unconsciously when she was tipsy.

He knew he was a difficult boss to work for. So he was willing to let that slide as a complaint. But seeing her say she'd quit yesterday—an option he'd never considered—had caught him completely off guard.

She'd spoken like she'd been preparing for it, throwing out one line after another. Not because of bad conditions, she was tired and wanted to rest, they could post the opening right away—faced with someone determined to leave, he couldn't find the right words.

'If you really want to, try it again. I'll actually fire you.'

'......'

'Then I can say it out loud. How I would feel if Secretary Cha quit.'

He remembered his own words. That if she mentioned quitting again, he'd actually fire her. Having said that, he couldn't now ask her not to go.

Fuck.

He nearly cursed. And he was damn curious. Why was Cha Si-hyun doing this?

'That's good, then.'

What was good? His already tangled mind grew more chaotic with her words. Just as his head was about to explode, she threw a counter-punch.

'Thank you for everything.'

As if her resignation was already a done deal, she added her thanks. Hearing that, he wondered if he'd ever felt this awful. When his uncle slowly prodded at him, anger would boil inside, but never this kind of bad feeling.

'I'll pay for the tteokbokki.'

With that, she'd stood up and paid the bill. That made him even more irritated. The audacious tone—as if their last meal together was a farewell dinner, and she'd be the one to pick up the tab.

Caught off guard by the absurdity of it all, Hae-joon couldn't find an answer.

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