Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 16
Chapter 16
- Reluctant Permission
“What do you mean? What do you mean I instigated him?”
Jeheon’s voice sank as heavily as his gaze.
“Exactly what I said. I told the child I turned down the Foundation, and I explained that there would be no reason to see you ever again, Gu Jeheon-ssi. But Jiwoo told me he was practicing at the kindergarten and came here instead.”
Yeonjae’s voice trembled faintly as she continued.
She still couldn’t forget how her heart had plummeted into her stomach when she found the kindergarten empty.
“He’s a child who has never caused trouble even once. A boy who only cares about his mother lied.”
“……”
“He has never told a single lie before. A child who thinks the world of his mother would never do such a thing on his own.”
“So what you’re saying is that I egged Jiwoo on to lie?”
“Yes.”
Yeonjae answered, holding back her indignation.
“Didn’t you tell him to lie, CEO Gu?”
Jeheon let out an incredulous laugh, as if struck dumb.
“Did Jiwoo tell you that I made him lie?”
“Jiwoo doesn’t even know how to lie.”
Yeonjae clenched her fists.
“What on earth did you say to him? What could you possibly have told him that made a child come all the way here behind his mother’s back?”
Jeheon, silent for a long moment, let out a hollow laugh.
The man, who had been standing frozen in place, took a step toward Yeonjae.
He stopped just a single pace away from her.
“Jeong Yeonjae, you’re making wild assumptions. No. More than that, you’re not in your right mind right now.”
“That’s right. I’m not in my right mind.”
How could she not be worked up?
“He was a good son who never gave me a moment of heartache, but everything changed after you appeared.”
Since this man showed up, her peaceful life had been shaken to its core.
The things that had been shifting little by little, ever so subtly, had hit home with undeniable clarity today because of Jiwoo’s lie.
And once that change truly sank in, it became impossible to bear.
“What mother would be in her right mind when her only son is going astray?”
“……”
“Everything is a complete mess because of you, Gu Jeheon-ssi.”
His brow furrowed deeply.
Jeheon, pressing a hand to his forehead with a bitter laugh, shifted his gaze behind Yeonjae.
His eyes, flickering briefly as if spotting something, sank into darkness.
“Fine. It’s all my fault.”
His voice carried a resigned tone.
“I rented the practice hall because they said there was nowhere to practice, and I brought in the orchestra because they said there were no teachers to look after the kids.”
“……”
“And I instigated Jiwoo, too. Are you satisfied now?”
Leaving those words behind, Jeheon walked past Yeonjae into the building.
And as he strode forward without hesitation, Jeheon caught sight of Jiwoo and stopped in his tracks.
For a fleeting second, he seemed to look the child in the eye, before disappearing inside.
The boy stood there at a loss, unable to approach Yeonjae or follow after Jeheon.
* * *
Normally, Yeonjae would have endlessly asked Jiwoo about his day on the drive back.
How his day was at the kindergarten. What classes he took, and who he played with.
On the way home, the car was always filled with the warm, gentle chatter between Yeonjae and Jiwoo.
Yet now, the inside of the car was not merely quiet—it was completely dead.
Perhaps because of that, Jiwoo kept glancing at Yeonjae through the rearview mirror as she drove, walking on eggshells.
What if Mom is really angry?
The child fidgeted with his fingers. It was a habit that surfaced whenever he was anxious.
Suddenly, the events at the practice room played back in the boy’s mind.
When Yeonjae had arrived in the middle of practice, Jiwoo’s heart had dropped.
He had no idea his mother would come all the way to the practice room.
Of course, when he lied about practicing at the kindergarten, he hadn’t imagined things would turn out like this either.
Jiwoo’s train of thought had been simple.
He wanted to play the piano, and he wanted to take part in the recital.
But Jiwoo didn’t have a piano, and the mister was like a Santa Claus who would lend him one.
If he followed the mister, he could play the piano to his heart’s content.
And he could participate in the concert, showing off a cool performance in front of his friends.
“I’m sorry, Jiwoo. I don’t think Mom can grant that wish.”
Yet Yeonjae did not welcome Jeheon.
No, in truth, it seemed Mom disliked the mister.
“It might be hard to understand, but Mom can’t leave Jiwoo in that mister’s care. The Foundation is a scary place. Mom just wants Jiwoo to live happily the way we are now. I’m sorry.”
So Jiwoo thought she was against him being with the mister.
But if he didn’t follow the mister, he wouldn’t be able to play the piano.
“You know, today… can Jiwoo and Seoha practice for the recital together?”
―You’re going to stay at the kindergarten to practice?
“Uh-huh. That’s right.”
And so, when Yeonjae asked if he was staying behind at the kindergarten to practice, he had told her yes.
Too late, he realized his mistake, but by then the call had already ended.
A lie that slipped out before he knew it.
A prick of conscience and guilt struck him, but it was quickly forgotten.
The time spent practicing with Seoha was far too sweet. He had been thoroughly intoxicated by the fact that he could play the piano as much as he wanted.
Only when Yeonjae arrived while he was completely absorbed in practice did reality belatedly crash down on Jiwoo.
Good children shouldn’t lie.
Even though he knew lying would upset Mom, it was already too late to turn back.
When an apparently furious Yeonjae stepped out of the practice hall with Jeheon, what little conscience remained pricked Jiwoo again.
‘Lying is bad. Jiwoo, let’s go to Mom and tell the truth!’
‘What are you talking about? Didn’t you see Mom’s angry face? I don’t want to get in trouble! Just keep quiet and let it pass.’
Over his conscience, the angel and devil inside Jiwoo began a tug-of-war.
At the end of the fierce tug-of-war, Jiwoo couldn’t take it anymore and set out to find Jeheon and Yeonjae.
When he came up to the lobby, he spotted a familiar back standing outside, not far away.
‘Jeong Jiwoo, what are you going out for? Are you going to tell the truth? You’re going to bawl your eyes out! Don’t go!’
‘You made the right choice! You bad devil, Jiwoo is a good boy.’
Pressing himself against the glass door while watching Jeheon and Yeonjae, Jiwoo slowly pushed the door open.
Then, step by step, he began approaching the two of them.
“Jiwoo doesn’t even know how to lie.”
That single sentence from Yeonjae, brimming with absolute trust in Jiwoo, made him flinch.
Jiwoo did lie, though.
His lips trembled, unable to part.
The two were engaged in an escalating argument. The thought that Mom and the mister were fighting because of him made his heart ache.
As he stood frozen in place, Jiwoo’s eyes met Jeheon’s.
“Fine. It’s all my fault. I instigated Jiwoo, too. Are you satisfied now?”
He couldn’t forget the disappointed expression on the mister’s face as he looked at Yeonjae before walking away.
Jiwoo, who had gone out intending to speak honestly, hadn’t been able to say a single word to Yeonjae.
Even as Yeonjae’s car turned into the alley and finished parking.
After agonizing endlessly, Jiwoo forced his lips to open.
“Mom…… you know.”
It was right as he gathered his courage to take the first step.
“Yes, Teacher.”
Yeonjae, who seemed about to turn to Jiwoo, answered an incoming call.
“Yes. I just brought Jiwoo back home. Yes, yes. I heard about the situation.”
It seemed to be a call from the teacher. Jiwoo’s lips clamped shut once more.
He sat in silence, merely fidgeting with his fingers.
“Since they’ve already started practicing, it seems difficult to refuse now……”
―……
“For now, we’ll proceed with the concert and practices as planned. However, I still intend to decline anything related to the Foundation. I just ask that there are no further ties to the Foundation.”
Her call finished, Yeonjae turned back toward Jiwoo.
“Jiwoo. Just like I told your teacher, for now, I’ll allow the practice and the concert. But nothing beyond that.”
Jiwoo nodded.
His heart, which had been in knots worrying that he might not be able to participate in the concert, eased a little.
“And about today…… let’s talk about it another day. What was it you wanted to say, Jiwoo?”
“N-No, it’s nothing.”
Because what Jiwoo was going to talk about was precisely what had happened today.
The words he had intended to confess honestly lingered on the boy’s tongue, only to fade away.
