New Normal - Chapter 32

Juwon let out a bitter laugh and stepped onto the stairs while staring at the front door.

But he came to a stop.

It felt like, just beyond that door, his cheerful mother was still laughing, his baby sibling was cooing while crawling across the floor, and his father was quietly alive and well—spreading out blueprints across the desk late at night, his drafting pencil in hand.

When would he ever be able to walk into that house again?

When would he find the courage to face a grief this overwhelming?

Unable to step inside, Juwon hesitated and finally turned around, silently questioning himself. He fiddled with the old Patek Philippe watch on his left wrist—the one he’d inherited from his father. Wearing it made him feel as if his father were still close by.

“I only ever want you to be happy.”

His aged grandfather came to mind. The frail, spotted skin on that thin face no longer resembled the Cha Heejoong of old.

“Right? It’s simple. If she doesn’t truly love you, what’s the point of dating or whatever else? Naturally, there’s no reason I’d hand that house over to someone like that either.”

He’d joked as if it were all a game—making absurd conditions for an inheritance—but his sincerity had been obvious.

“This trip to New York, don’t think I don’t know. You’re going to meet Roschstein and try to carve out a path back to the States.”

And honestly, his grandfather was right.

Juwon had been quietly planning it—if his grandfather’s health improved even a little, he would take the opportunity to leave Korea again.

Two years ago, when he returned to Korea, Roschstein had offered him a principal architect position. It hadn’t been easy to turn that down. This trip to New York was about reaffirming that connection.

“If she tells you she loves you, I’ll turn over your share of the Myeongnyun-dong house, liquidate the assets, and even give you freedom. That’s my promise.”

So yes, he’d made that bold declaration to his grandfather. But deep down, he remained conflicted.

He let out a long sigh and looked across the overgrown yard that now felt strangely barren.

He thought back to the day they moved in, how the family had taken a photo in front of the blooming lavender lilac tree in the yard.

His parents were about the age he was now. His little brother, Jung-won in his father’s arms. Himself at eight years old, standing between them, holding their hands and grinning brightly.

That image—that warm family portrait—was still tucked away in his wallet.

“……”

No. He couldn’t give up the Myeongnyun-dong house.

And come to think of it, that woman who’d recently started to mess with his emotions—he didn’t want to give her up either.

Maybe it was possible to have both.

There was no reason to hesitate.

Whether she would ever actually say the word “love”… and whether he truly wanted to hear it—that part, he wasn’t sure about. What would he even do if she did say it?

Rubbing his temples, Juwon pulled out a cigarette.

“So I just bring home any girl and it’s fine?”

“What kind of nonsense—of course it has to be someone you’re crazy about, someone you love.”

“What if I’m just acting?”

“Kid, you think I don’t know you? I raised you for over twenty years. You’re not fooling me.”

An idea flickered across his mind. His lips curled into a sly smirk.

If she was going to resist anyway… maybe it was time to actually seduce her properly.

He didn’t deliberate long. Turning on his phone, Juwon scrolled through his contacts.

He stared at the brief messages they’d exchanged. Bit his lower lip.

How should he approach her? He was the one who bailed mid-hookup, and now he was going to chase her? He needed a proper strategy.

The Kim Sooyeon project was one thing, but first he needed an opportunity to meet her outside of work.

As he mulled it over, he left the house. Climbing into his car, he was just about to start the engine and call Shin Jisoo when his screen lit up—an incoming call.

He checked the caller ID and raised an eyebrow.

[Professor Yoon Jongchan]

He’d met the man during a remodel of a neighborhood facility in Yeoksam-dong.

On the day Juwon won the Seoul Architecture Award, the professor had been more ecstatic than even Juwon himself. His calculated first impression had proven misleading; the man was eccentric and oddly warm.

Why’s he calling now?

The answer came quickly.

“It’s not about anything serious, man. There’s this public art project with A University’s Art History Department.”

Right. The professor was from A University. Could this be about the project? There had been talk of a kickoff meeting.

A sudden glint sparked in Juwon’s eyes. He picked up the call before the ringtone finished.

A tipsy voice slurred through the receiver.

­— “Hey, Director Chae~ Sorry to call so late. Are you free to talk?”

“Yes, Professor. Have you been well?”

— “Oh, I’m doing fine. Hey! Director Chae, you got the meeting schedule for our project, right?”

“Yes, I received it.”

— “Good, good. No big deal. I was just feeling excited about working with someone as talented as you, so I had a drink or two. Couldn’t help myself, ha!”

“Thanks. But don’t go overboard, sir.”

Juwon replied in a polite but lukewarm tone.

— “Hahaha. You know, earlier someone brought up that building you designed. Said it won an award. Got me thinking about you. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You mentioned that? Now I feel the pressure again.” He laughed casually, already waiting for the right moment to ask about Shin Jisoo.

— “Department head, I think you’re quite drunk. Should I call a cab for you?”

There she was.

A familiar voice drifted in through the speaker, confirming his suspicion. Juwon tapped the steering wheel with his finger, smirking.

Now then… what to do?

There was only one answer.

“Are you with others at the moment?” he asked smoothly, already pulling away from the curb.

“Huh? Oh, right. It’s just a few of us from the arts circle. Professor Kim Sooyeon from A University is here, our beloved artist Jeon Sangyoung, his manager Kim Seyoung, Kim Changjin from Visione, and… ah, Shin Jisoo from Um Museum.”

“Would it be alright if I stopped by to say hello?” Juwon cut in.

Professor Yoon seemed briefly surprised by the unusual initiative, but quickly gave him the address, thrilled.

“I’ll see you soon. It’s not far.”

Nonsense—it was quite the drive from Gangbuk to Nonhyeon. But his tone stayed relaxed.

“Traffic’s light. I’ll be there soon. Please let them know I’m coming.”

He hung up and hit the gas.

***

One hour earlier, inside a fugu restaurant at the Hakdong Park intersection.

Faint noises from beyond the sliding doors seeped into the quiet, private room. The meal had been clean and refined, and the dessert—cold cinnamon punch—was perfect for washing away any lingering fishiness in the mouth.

But no one at the table was paying attention to the cinnamon punch.

As the warm sake made its way around the table, the atmosphere grew more relaxed, even intimate. Still, each person’s head was filled with different thoughts, different agendas.

“Your work Shifting Boundaries at the International Gallery last time was incredibly impressive,” Jisoo said, her voice full of admiration as she addressed the man who was sipping tea instead of alcohol. “The installation itself was brilliant, but I was even more amazed at how you designed the flow of movement so precisely, considering how the audience would interact with the space. The entire exhibit felt like one living organism. It went beyond just visuals—it was a fully immersive experience that engaged all the senses.”

The man gave her a slight nod in response.

Jeon Sangyeong.

The man she now faced was the centerpiece among the rising artists involved in Professor Kim Sooyeon’s project. Currently one of the most buzzed-about names in the art world, he was the key figure anchoring the exhibition.

Aside from Lee Jinah—the head of global sales at Arttech—who had already left the table, the others seated here included Sangyeong’s art manager, Seyoung. Kim Changjin, the head of Hwa(Chim) Gallery and CEO of the exhibition planning company VISIONE. Professor Kim Sooyeon of A University’s Art History Department. And the department chair, Professor Yoon Jongchan.

Everyone at the table seemed to hang on Sangyeong’s every move and word.

But the man himself looked thoroughly bored with the whole scene. With a flat, unreadable expression, he set down his cup.

Dressed in a gray t-shirt under a black blazer, Sangyeong straightened his posture. As he rolled his shoulders back, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his chest.