Between Obligation and Choice

Following the direction the chief gestured, we began walking.

He turned once, as if checking whether the executive director was following, then straightened himself and adjusted the corners of his lips that had almost twitched into a smile.

It seemed he was curious too—why the director had come along.

I was curious as well.

I had assumed he would leave right away, but staying for a meal was unexpected.

Walking beside me, the director suddenly stopped, as if remembering something.

“Chief Jeon. Secretary Song should be downstairs—could you check what the afternoon schedule looks like?”

“Yes. I’ve reserved a table at Jungang Bossam. Secretary Yoon, take care of the director.”

“Yes.”

The chief quickly turned and headed down a steep staircase in the opposite direction.

The cement steps were chipped along the edges, making each step require careful footing.

It was the kind of path that made your legs tense, worried you might slip.

Watching him descend, I felt a pang of guilt.

Maybe I should’ve gone instead.

…No.

Thinking of how he had pushed me earlier, despite knowing how hard the starting position was, maybe this was fine.

As I prepared to follow Kang and Nara ahead, the director lightly hooked his fingers around my wrist.

I froze for a moment.

It wasn’t anything that would look strange—but it still startled me.

“Secretary Yoon.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go to the company gathering?”

“You mean the lunch?”

“That. Do you want to attend?”

“I believe I’m supposed to attend.”

“I’m not asking what you’re supposed to do.

I’m asking if you want to sit there.”

He slipped his fingers into his tracksuit pocket and pulled out his phone.

So he hadn’t forgotten it earlier—

that meant sending the chief away had been intentional.

I glanced again at the staircase the chief had just descended.

Now I really felt sorry.

“Everyone will be there, so…”

“If you want to stay, stay.

If not, we’ll just go.”

“Where would we go?”

“Hmm.”

At my question, he lifted his gaze from the phone and looked off into the distance.

Following his eyes, I saw the hillside beyond the neighborhood—unfinished, where houses hadn’t yet filled the space.

“That direction is Seongbuk-dong… then Seongbuk-dong it is.”

“Then I’ll escort you there.”

“Not escort—come with me.”

At that point, he noticed people approaching from behind and gave a small nod of greeting.

The conversation ended there as we headed into the restaurant.

I couldn’t ask anything further—not with others around.

What I really wanted to ask was…

Does that mean I’m coming too?

To that house in Seongbuk-dong?

Once seated, I saw the chief entering, leaning on the shoe cabinet as he struggled to take off his shoes.

Since it was a floor-seating restaurant, everyone had to remove them.

When he finally sat beside the director, our table began eating earlier than the others.

Employees from other divisions entered quietly, clearly aware of our table.

The director had his back to them, so he might not have noticed—or perhaps he chose not to.

We each received a bowl of makgeolli poured into golden brass cups.

The director gave a short toast.

“Everyone worked hard today.

I’m glad no one got hurt and we finished early.”

“You worked the hardest, Director—we can hardly lift our heads.”

“We all worked hard. Drink.”

I raised my cup toward my lips when he spoke again.

“Secretary Yoon. Driving.”

“Oh—yes.”

Startled, I set the cup down.

I could feel the others’ gazes subtly shift toward me.

They couldn’t openly look at him, so naturally, their attention landed on me instead.

Forcing a small smile, I tried to brush it off.

He casually took a sip of his drink and continued.

“We’ll need to head somewhere soon, so Secretary Yoon will have to drive.

I’m sorry to pull him away when there’s still more to talk about.”

“Our role is to support you, Director. Please don’t say that.

Where are we going?”

The chief smoothly followed his lead, guiding the mood.

I avoided looking at Secretary Kang.

Fortunately, Kang seemed more composed this time and went along with the conversation.

About ten minutes later, the director glanced at his watch and stood.

I rose immediately as well.

“Everyone worked hard. Go home and rest.”

After exchanging farewells, I followed him out.

The entire restaurant had been reserved for company staff—it was packed.

I barely remembered putting my shoes back on.

Adjusting my slightly bent heels, I followed him outside.

The car was already waiting on the narrow road.

As Secretary Song opened the rear door, the director stepped in.

I moved toward the driver’s seat, but Song didn’t move.

We ended up facing each other awkwardly.

Just as I tried to step aside, a voice called from behind.

“Seogyeong. Where are you going?”

“To drive.”

“Get in. Song is better.”

So now I wasn’t driving.

A moment ago, he had said I would.

I hesitated—worried about coal dust staining the seat—but he didn’t seem to care.

Seated on the ivory leather, he gestured for me to join him.

No matter where I sat, it wouldn’t make much difference.

I got in beside him and closed the door.

My knees instinctively drew together, uneasy.

As the car began moving smoothly, I leaned back into the seat.

Soft classical music filled the interior, isolating us from the outside world.

“Why did you suddenly want to drive?”

“You told me to earlier.”

“That was an excuse.”

He said it so casually.

Leaning forward, he opened the refrigerator beneath the table.

Inside were neatly arranged drinks and fruit.

He took out two bottles of water, handing one to me.

By then, the car had already left the neighborhood.

“You said you’re going for a health check-up, and you still want to drink?”

“I forgot. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank someone who’s making your life difficult.”

It seemed he had found a new way to tease me.

Not knowing how to respond, I stayed silent.

I opened the bottle, took a sip, and closed it again.

As I held it, he took it from me and placed it on the table.

“Seogyeong.”

“Yes.”

“About seeing each other on weekends.”

“…Yes.”

My heart tightened suddenly.

I gripped my hands together, bracing myself.

Then warmth covered them.

His hand rested lightly over mine, fingers pressing briefly before releasing.

“Why are you listening so tensely?”

“Ah… I…”

“What were you thinking?”

His fingers traced up my wrist to my shoulder.

Then, with a touch light enough to tickle, he lifted my chin.

When our eyes met, I realized just how close he was.

Closer than I had thought.

Looking into his dark eyes, I blinked once and answered,

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“You’re still bad at lying.”

He brushed his thumb lightly against my lower lip, then suddenly let out a small laugh.

“Coal dust got on you. Let’s wash up when we get there.”

Just like that, he changed the subject—as if nothing had happened.

Through the window behind him, I could already see we were entering Seongbuk-dong.

The streets were quiet—no people, no cars, not even fallen leaves in motion.

The car glided past a long gray wall and into a spacious underground parking garage.

Inside, only a few cars were parked, spaced far apart.

As I stepped out, my eyes landed on a red sports car.

The director noticed and smiled.

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

“The color stood out.”

“They say cars look best in red, so I bought one.”

“And?”

“As you can see, it just sits there.”

He spoke of it as casually as if it were a briefcase.

But I understood.

Under the parking lights, the silhouettes of various cars—black sedans, silver SUVs—gleamed softly.

Still, that red sports car didn’t quite suit him.

As we walked past it, he ran his hand once over its hood.

“I thought you were choosing one.”

“Choosing what?”

“I told you to take one before.”

Only after we passed through the rows of cars did I understand what he meant.

That offhand remark from before, when he had dropped me home.

My answer hadn’t changed.

I shook my head lightly.