New Normal - Chapter 49

Shin Jisoo rested her chin on her hand and slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again.

[Chae Juwon: A last-minute work dinner came up. It’s kind of important, so I can’t skip it. I think I’ll be late.]

She replied that she’d wait after reading the message much later, then nodded off with her head hanging low. After dozing off briefly and waking up, she sat at the dining table without moving for a long while.

The doenjang stew and rolled omelet were already cold and hardened. A strange silence had settled over the table.

Who would’ve thought she’d set a dinner table while waiting for someone? And that someone being Chae Juwon. Feeling frustrated, she picked up her phone again. Two missed calls and one short text.

[Chae Juwon: I might be really late. Let’s just meet next time.]

Jisoo sighed and rested her head back on the table. She stared quietly at her phone, then closed her eyes.

At the director’s office earlier today, she’d basically been a potted plant.

The moment she saw Jin Jung-eun and Im Dana’s faces, her mind went blank. The director, who’d frozen mid-step when he saw her, gave her a small gesture and then acted like she wasn’t even there.

She realized in that moment—the whole thing had been Jin Jung-eun’s way of flexing her power. A petty warning.

When their eyes met, Jung-eun’s lips curled slightly into a smile, fully composed from head to toe. Like she was enjoying the look of confusion rising on Jisoo’s face.

Then, in a showy little scene, Director Joo Wonkyung and the mother-daughter duo stood in front of Jisoo at the door, chatting happily like she wasn’t even there.

“Dana, it’s so good to see you again. After graduation, I heard you took a position at the university, so I figured you weren’t even thinking about the museum.”

Director Joo’s voice was so sweet it bordered on sickly—like a tone Jisoo had never heard from her before.

So this is the voice she uses when she’s trying to keep up appearances in her personal life. Jisoo clung to that thought and endured it.

“Unnie, I was surprised too. I didn’t think Dana would ever be interested in the museum. I always thought teaching suited her better.”

Jung-eun casually continued, completely ignoring Jisoo.

Next to her, her daughter—no, Im Dana, daughter of her and Jisoo’s father—acted like this was her playground. She was bright, relaxed, even playful, as if she was born to sit in that seat.

“I still don’t care much for museums. They’re boring. Honestly, I only came because Auntie—oops, I mean, the Director—invited me so persistently.”

“Haha, well, I didn’t expect much either. Of course, it’d be great if you joined us here, but a talented girl like you should play in a bigger pond.”

Her tone was polite, but to Jisoo, every word felt like mockery laced with condescension.

“By the way, Director, I’m so excited about the new museum project. It has to be a landmark for Jeju! Who’s doing the architecture? The Seoul branch had that Pritzker winner, right?”

“Hmm, Fredman? Yeah, we talked to him. But my husband said we should keep it simple this time. We blew way too much money on the Seoul building. He wants something more local-feeling for Jeju. But Korean firms are doing really well these days. We’ll open the bids soon.”

“You have to invite me to the opening when it’s done.”

The three of them laughed and complimented each other as if they were the only ones in the room. Jisoo felt increasingly out of place, like she was invisible. Like her presence was nothing but air.

But she couldn’t say anything. She could only watch as the three of them chatted cheerfully like she didn’t exist. Her chest felt tight.

More than anything, it hit her just how completely she had been excluded. She couldn’t even leave the room. She just stared blankly into space—until her phone buzzed again.

[Chae Juwon: Did you go to the hospital? I didn’t hear from you and got worried. You okay?]

Her vision blurred instantly. A rush of heat swelled in her chest. She gripped the phone tightly in both hands, trying to hide the way her emotions flared, and took a deep breath.

“Oh my, sweetheart. What are you doing over there?”

Director Joo’s eyes briefly glanced her way.

“While you’re there, run an errand for me. Bring more chocolates—the ones from Austria.”

As she continued barking out orders, Im Dana turned her head toward Jisoo. Instinctively, Jisoo flinched. Dana widened her eyes and let out a short laugh, then quickly turned away.

That laugh. That easy smile—at strangers, at people who clearly disliked her, it didn’t matter. Those pure, innocent eyes pretending to know nothing. It seemed cheerful, but to Jisoo, it was cunning. Cold.

She’d thought facing Jin Jung-eun and Im Dana would somehow empower her. Like she’d be fueled by anger and come out stronger. But she crumbled instead. Her stomach churned. The nausea lingered all day until she finally made up an excuse and left work early.

She quietly opened her eyes and slowly scrolled up through the messages.

[Shin Jisoo: It’s nothing big.]
[Shin Jisoo: I just… want to see you.]

She hated how weak and needy she sounded. But she needed comfort. And, of all people, he was the one who reached out.

She kept trying to justify why she’d messaged him so impulsively.

With a gloomy face, she reread their texts. The ones he sent after their call.

[Chae Juwon: 357919]
[Chae Juwon: Forgot my door code.]
[Chae Juwon: I think I’ll finish work by 7, but I might be late. Just go in first.]

She stared blankly at the screen.

A man casually giving her his house code and telling her to go in first and wait for dinner. And her, feeling oddly flattered by that. Laughable, really. Cooking dinner in an empty house like she was trying to earn his affection in return.

What the hell am I doing?

Why am I trying so hard to win this man over? I mean, we’re dating. Isn’t this kind of normal? But still—how long have we even been together? Isn’t this a bit pathetic?

The doubts only made her feel smaller.

She checked the time. 11:40 p.m. If he still wasn’t here, he probably wouldn’t be back before dawn.

So that’s it for today.

Somewhere, she’d heard that food and s3x were the easiest ways to handle a man. Maybe that’s why she’d blurted out that she’d cook. Even when he didn’t seem particularly interested.

Truth was, he didn’t seem like someone who needed warmth or comfort, not like she did.

He’d been weirdly distant when she mentioned it was her first time, and even when she said she’d cook for him, his response had been lukewarm at best.

Her dull gaze drifted to the now-cold food. It ached, somehow.

Chae Juwon, in many ways, wasn’t an easy person.

With a soft sigh, she grabbed her bag.

Growl.

Her empty stomach complained. She ran a hand over her shrunken belly. Guess I’ll just go home and cook some ramen, she thought weakly, and began clearing the table.

Beep. The door lock clicked, and the front door suddenly opened. She quickly made her way to the entryway—and saw the tip of a shoe slip in through the crack.

What the—

Frowning, she looked closer.

It was Chae Juwon. And he was clearly wasted.

His shirt was wrinkled and partly unbuttoned, some kind of fabric awkwardly poking out of his pocket. His face was flushed, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Ugh… I’m so drunk.”

He blew out a puff of air, swiping his bangs out of his face. Barely taking off his shoes, he stumbled inside. He tried to balance himself with one hand on the wall, but missed. His voice slurred, his tongue slightly twisted with alcohol, his eyes aimlessly drifting around the room.

Jisoo instinctively took a deep breath. The alcohol stung her nose. And suddenly, something felt off.

This wasn’t the composed, put-together Chae Juwon she knew. This was something else. Her heart twisted with confusion.

He didn’t even notice her until much later.

“Oh?”

His eyes widened, then his face slowly lit up with a delayed smile. His lips curved upward.

“Shin Jisoo. You’re still here?”