Chapter 26

The absolute best part of today was the simple fact that it was Friday.

“What are your plans for today, Doc?”

Byeong-ju, the clinic’s exercise prescription specialist, threw the question over his shoulder. Having just suffered a paper cut while organizing charts, Gi-hyeon was in the middle of ruthlessly spritzing his finger with a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Ignoring the sharp sting, he carelessly shook the moisture off his hand and resumed typing on his keyboard.

“I’m going to sleep. For about eleven hours. No, make that thirteen hours.”

Today was the day Jo Yeon-oh’s business trip was officially confirmed. Had he said he was going golfing? It wasn’t a casual hobby trip, but a round of golf tied directly to corporate networking. Since Yeon-oh had mentioned heading down to the southern provinces, Gi-hyeon was guaranteed a solid, uninterrupted slumber at least until Saturday morning.

“Wow, Doc, are you a newborn or something? Why do you sleep so much?”

Gi-hyeon merely offered a faint smirk and didn’t bother replying. Muttering to himself about whether Gi-hyeon’s back ever hurt from lying down that long, Byeong-ju went back to organizing his own stack of charts.

It was a rare day where Team Leader Lim had taken a half-day off. Thanks to his absence, Friday afternoon wasn’t exactly empty, but it was profoundly peaceful. Simply not having the team leader around—a man who routinely dumped all his assigned athletes onto Gi-hyeon just so he could sit at his desk and obsess over his graduate thesis—felt like absolute freedom.

“Doc, Doc! What’s your ideal type?”

Yoo Bom, a rhythmic gymnast, hovered around the front of Gi-hyeon’s desk, giggling incessantly. Her pronunciation, ending her sentences with a drawn-out, cutesy inflection, was dripping with playful charm. One look at her face made it painfully obvious she was playing some sort of prank orchestrated by the older athletes. Without cracking a smile, Gi-hyeon gave his answer.

“Someone who can do seven hundred squats without taking a single break.”

“Ah, stop joking around!”

“I am joking. My actual ideal type is someone who can do five hundred squats. Seven hundred is just a bit too harsh.”

Delivering the punchline with the same deadpan expression proved too much for the young athlete, who completely lost her mind laughing. Only then did Gi-hyeon let a soft chuckle escape. It wasn’t even that funny, but seeing her practically on the verge of tears from laughing so hard was so perfectly suited to her age that he couldn’t help but smile.

Laughing until tears actually streamed down her face, she collapsed over his desk, wheezing as her un-tied, long hair cascaded everywhere. Using a ballpoint pen, Gi-hyeon casually nudged the young athlete’s hair out of the way just to make room to set down a file folder. All that effort to clear a space was instantly wasted, however, as Bom abruptly shot up from the desk and pressed him again.

“No, but seriously! Our coach was asking if you had a girlfriend, Doc.”

The question, asked as she wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes, caught him entirely off guard.

“Coach Nam asked?”

Snickering from the sidelines, Byeong-ju answered Bom’s question on Gi-hyeon’s behalf. As the therapist who frequently took over when the rhythmic gymnasts came in for treatment, Byeong-ju was quite familiar with her coach. There hadn’t been the slightest hint of romantic interest before, making Gi-hyeon wonder if the mischievous Bom was just making things up.

Clearly intrigued, Byeong-ju leaned in and asked her directly. “Coach Nam really asked if Dr. So had a girlfriend, Bom?”

“Yes!”

“What about me? Did she ask if I had anyone?”

“Yes. She absolutely did not.”

Byeong-ju’s expression visibly deflated at the blunt rejection. Whether his colleague was sulking or not, Gi-hyeon simply closed out the windows on his computer monitor and let out a quiet yawn.

“I already told you my ideal type. Pass the message along. Tell her I like someone who can do five hundred consecutive squats.”

“That makes zero sense!”

Bom practically shrieked in protest. Gi-hyeon yawned a second time before pinning the gymnast with a pointed look.

“Are you talking to your therapist right now because you finished all your exercises? How far did you get today? Go bring me your chart.”

“Ack! No! I’m going to finish them right now!”

With that, she scurried away in a frantic rush. It was completely absurd watching a kid who came in for ankle rehabilitation sprinting out of the office. Shaking his head with a heavy sigh, Gi-hyeon felt Byeong-ju poke him in the back, chuckling.

“You should just go on a blind date.”

“I already have someone I like.”

Wiping away a tear brought on by his yawning, Gi-hyeon gave a dismissive reply. Looking as if he wasn’t going to fall for that excuse again, Byeong-ju clicked his tongue.

“Come on, you’ve been saying you like the same person for years now. It looks completely hopeless, so you should just transfer to someone else.”

Well… Gi-hyeon wondered if there was even a point to doing that. Even if Jo Yeon-oh didn’t love him, and even if it was as entirely hopeless as Byeong-ju claimed, was there really a need to force himself to like someone else? His heart was already suffocatingly heavy; he had no desire to carve out room for another person. Since Jo Yeon-oh utterly refused to vacate the premises, Gi-hyeon’s metaphorical room was perpetually weighed down. He had long since exhausted the energy required to try and kick the bastard out. Unable to pack all that crushing lethargy into a single sentence, he opted for a much lighter deflection.

“Meeting someone new is just too annoying.”

“I guess that’s true. Once work is over, you’re too busy just trying to get some sleep at home.”

Catching the contagion, Byeong-ju opened his mouth wide in a massive yawn. Gi-hyeon nodded in agreement. Still, today was Friday—a gloriously rare day completely devoid of Jo Yeon-oh.

—Or so he had thought. He honestly had no idea how it had come to this.

“So, why exactly do I have to go?”

“Well, the thing is… Please, just go this once, Dr. So. If I go back alone, the Chairman is going to beat me to death with a golf club.”

“File for worker’s compensation, sue him, file a civil suit, and press criminal charges while you’re at it.”

“Right, well, of course I didn’t mean he would literally beat me. But he will absolutely bludgeon me with his eyes!”

Gi-hyeon strongly considered pointing out that physical assault via eye contact was scientifically impossible, but ultimately clamped his mouth shut. He genuinely felt bad for Manager Yoo. The man had driven all the way from a private golf course in Namhae County up to Seoul—on a Friday night, no less—solely because he had been handed the special-ops mission of retrieving Gi-hyeon.

“Haa…”

But Gi-hyeon had every right to sigh just as heavily. So Gi-hyeon was a salaryman just like Manager Yoo. A salaryman whose weekly stress had reached a boiling point, who had been desperately waiting for the exact moment he could completely unravel. Having planned to eat dinner and sleep like the dead, Gi-hyeon had even ordered pizza—a rare indulgence. Now, he could only curse his past self from five minutes ago who had opened the front door at the sound of the bell, foolishly assuming it was the delivery guy.

Swallowing a bitter taste, Gi-hyeon spoke with a resigned expression.

“…I ordered pizza. It should be here any minute, so let’s eat together before we head down.”

“Gasp! Thank you so much, Dr. So! Truly, from the bottom of my heart!”

Manager Yoo looked ready to drop to his knees and prostrate himself. Having known the manager for a long time, Gi-hyeon was well aware this was largely theatrical whining.

There was only one reason Jo Yeon-oh—who was currently golfing his way through Namhae—had mobilized Manager Yoo to drag Gi-hyeon down to keep him company for the weekend. So Gi-hyeon was chronically weak to the pathetic groveling of a fellow office worker. As someone in the medical service industry, Gi-hyeon found it incredibly difficult to reject Manager Yoo’s desperate pleas. So, putting up a token resistance, he was once again yielding and making the trip down.

In truth, this was practically a prophesied future. He had already suffered through Jo Yeon-oh’s phone call an hour before clocking out, listening to the bastard spout utter nonsense about coming down to Namhae. Gi-hyeon had told him to stop barking bullshit, ignored him, and hung up, but he ultimately couldn’t deny the desperate begging of the man who showed up on his doorstep.

Eventually, wearing an expression overflowing with pure irritation, Gi-hyeon forcefully shoved pizza down his throat, feeling as though he were going to suffer acute indigestion the entire ride to Namhae. As he went to pack a small overnight bag, he was told the resort had practically everything, so he only bothered to pack a few changes of clothes.

“Ah, you don’t need to pack any golf wear. The Chairman already has a rounding partner.”

Manager Yoo offered the advice casually, trying to stop Gi-hyeon from overpacking. Gi-hyeon let out a dry, cynical laugh.

I know.

He knew full well that even if he dragged himself all the way down to Namhae at this ungodly hour, he was nothing more than a human pillow. Jo Yeon-oh was absolutely not free enough to spend the entire weekend playing leisurely rounds of golf with him.

Having that harsh reality confirmed through a third party’s mouth only made the knot in his stomach twist tighter. Retreating to the kitchen to dry-swallow a digestive pill, Gi-hyeon replied in a completely deadpan tone.

“I know. Don’t worry about it, Manager Yoo. I don’t really care for golf anyway.”

Manager Yoo nodded as if to say fair enough. Dressed in a short windbreaker and jogger pants, Gi-hyeon slung his basketball duffel bag over his shoulder and stood in the entryway. Farewell, my peaceful weekend. Having stepped out first, Manager Yoo was already diving into the elevator, claiming he needed to get the car started.

Click—.

Gi-hyeon turned off the living room lights.

Bloop, bloop.

The faint sound of air bubbles rising from the distant fish tank echoed in the silence. For a brief moment, Gi-hyeon stared at the tank casting a pale, ghostly glow across the darkened living room, before stepping out without a single ounce of resentment toward the door that slammed shut behind him.

When will spring finally arrive?

They said the flowers had already bloomed down south. But Seoul remained bitterly, relentlessly cold.

***