Ch#57
57. To Buy Snacks
The idea of giving a boyfriend a card to buy snacks was quite refreshing. Kang-woo knew that women he dated always wanted luxury items. Hearing her offer this made him chuckle inwardly. Kang-woo laughed at Na-eun's words.
"Anyway, we decided not to overthink complicated stuff. So don't keep assigning meaning to everything. I'm fine."
This woman was so tough. Maybe even tougher than him. But that worried him. She was so independent that she might leave him without a second thought. Choi Kang-woo, fretting over being dumped by a woman... He realized it and found it absurd.
As Na-eun neared the annex, she held out her hand to Kang-woo.
"Give me that bag. I need to rush to the bathroom."
Na-eun grabbed the bag from Kang-woo and hurried inside without looking back.
Left standing alone outside, Kang-woo was dumbfounded.
"Am I going crazy? Am I really Choi Kang-woo?"
Entering the house, Kang-woo went straight up to the second floor and looked in the mirror.
Perfectly styled hair, impeccable suit, sharp jawline.
"I look like Choi Kang-woo from every angle, so why does that woman act like this?"
But that's why he liked her. She wasn't clinging or demanding anything.
Coming out of the bathroom, Na-eun thought for a moment. She hadn't shown it to Kang-woo, but she was shocked hearing her sister had visited. She spaced out even during the kids' dinner, only vaguely hearing their chatter across the table.
Na-eun had lost her appetite and just sipped some soy milk. Then Lee Yeo-sa glanced at her while doing dishes and spoke up.
"Teacher, are you feeling unwell today?"
Na-eun snapped to attention and looked at Lee Yeo-sa. The worried eyes made her feel a bit embarrassed.
"Ah, sorry. I was just thinking about something."
Na-eun forced a smile.
Lee Yeo-sa dried her hands, cleared the table, and asked again.
"I called you several times with no response. Are you okay?"
Na-eun thought briefly, lowered her head, then looked up and asked.
"Yeo-sa, do you have many siblings?"
Lee Yeo-sa sighed shortly and moved the dishes from the table.
"Don't even ask. Five siblings. As the eldest, I helped Mom with housework early on and supported my younger siblings while working at a factory."
Lee Yeo-sa's eyes grew distant, reminiscing.
Na-eun nodded with a small smile at her words.
"Then you must have great sibling bonds."
Lee Yeo-sa stopped washing dishes, turned to Na-eun, and gave a wry smile.
"What are you talking about? After all that help, they grew up acting like they did it all themselves. I still get along with one younger sibling who respects and thanks me a lot."
Lee Yeo-sa resumed cleaning, but her voice trembled slightly.
"No matter how close siblings are, they should appreciate kindness and apologize for wrongs. But they don't know that basic stuff. My brothers ask what I've ever done for them. Dad passed early, we struggled together, yet sons think they deserve more automatically."
Na-eun lowered her head listening. Emotions she'd bottled up stirred at Lee Yeo-sa's words.
"When Mom passed, they all wanted everything for themselves. But law doesn't work that way, right?"
Lee Yeo-sa wiped her hands vigorously, excited, then paused awkwardly.
"Ah, I talked too much."
Lee Yeo-sa coughed embarrassedly. Na-eun shook her head with a smile.
"It's fine. Hearing your story makes me think. Lots of families like that. Siblings have different personalities and loyalties. The biggest difference is spending priorities."
Lee Yeo-sa clapped her hands.
"Exactly. Selfish spenders versus those who consider others—the gap is huge."
Na-eun stood and said.
"Right. I need to go teach the kids letters."
"Aigoo, they're growing so fast, learning Hangul. Ji-ho knows quite a few letters. Min-ho doesn't talk much, but seems very smart."
"Yeah, I think so too."
After Lee Yeo-sa finished cleaning and left, Na-eun ignored Ha-young's repeated calls. She decided to firmly talk to her next time at home. Who wants to see someone lose their job? But what if she shows up anyway?
Just imagining Ha-young next to Kang-woo made her stomach churn. She'd tried not to feel possessive over Choi Kang-woo, but picturing another woman beside him crushed her heart—especially if it was Ha-young.
Na-eun felt herself shrinking. Stroking her neck weakly, she felt the necklace. Kang-woo's gift seemed to guard her heart. She hoped it meant the same to him.
A few days later, Na-eun stood in front of Korea University Hospital. It was Min-ho's counseling appointment. The calm lobby held people waiting with their own stories.
Na-eun took Min-ho's small hand and went to the fifth floor, where Professor Kim Yun-jeong's office was. The pediatric psychiatry area was crowded. Seeing kids holding guardians' hands hurt her heart. So many emotionally troubled children—it was sad. Ultimately, adults' faults. Na-eun smiled at Min-ho amid her thoughts. He clung tightly, tense in the new place.
"Why another hospital?"
"Today we meet someone new."
Min-ho pursed his lips.
"Min-ho, I'm here. The counselor listens to everything about Min-ho."
"Don't have to listen."
"But talking will make your heart feel better. Speaking clears the mind."
"Teacher too?"
"Of course. Saying what's inside clears it right out."
Min-ho's eyes widened.
"Heart clears out?"
"Yeah. Like fizzy soda?"
"Heart clears."
"Right? Talking might feel like drinking soda."
But Min-ho seemed skeptical. Soon, Min-ho's name was called from Professor Kim Yun-jeong's office.
"Child Choi Min-ho."
Na-eun held Min-ho's hand and approached the nurse.
"Are you Min-ho's mother?"
"No, just guardian."
They entered cautiously. Professor Kim Yun-jeong greeted them with a soft smile. Toys and art supplies were neatly on the desk.
"Welcome. Hi, Min-ho?"
Min-ho bowed silently despite the friendly greeting. Professor Kim ignored it and said to Na-eun.
"Have a seat. First session, so let's talk about Min-ho. Are you his mother?"
"No, live-in tutor."
"I see. I'll review your questionnaire."
She glanced at the papers and said.
"Teacher, tell me about Min-ho's usual behavior and moments of change."
Na-eun took a deep breath and spoke calmly.
"Min-ho's very bright. But he only speaks in front of me or my son Ji-ho, rarely with adults. Especially tense around Dad or other adults, shrinking and refusing to talk."
Professor Kim nodded, noting it.
"I see. Min-ho might avoid speaking in certain situations due to ingrained emotional states or anxiety. Any notable expressions or behaviors when it happens?"
Na-eun thought and replied.
"Yes. He often pinches his hands or fiddles with his wrists. Face pales, body curls up."
Professor Kim's eyes deepened. Na-eun's heart raced watching her think, worrying it might be worse than she thought.
