Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 37
Chapter 37
The Only One
“That’s just how the housing market is these days. Even though this neighborhood is on the cheaper side, monthly rentals are so hard to come by lately. For a place in this condition at 1.6 million won, it’s honestly not expensive.”
“Ah… Monthly rent has really gone up a lot, hasn’t it?”
Yeonjae had just finished looking at a few listings at a real estate agency in her old neighborhood.
When she looked online, there had been some pretty decent options, but once she came in person, they were either already gone or completely different from the photos.
“That’s true, but first of all, it has three rooms. The price is bound to be completely different from a one-room studio where you lived alone!”
“I see.”
“If you want something cheaper than this, there are two-bedroom places, or options with smaller square footage.”
The real estate agent subtly gauged Yeonjae’s reaction before continuing.
“Or, if you don’t mind an older building, there are places like that too, young mom.”
“I think I’ll stop here for today. Jiwoo, shall we go?”
“Sure thing, then.”
Yeonjae took Jiwoo’s hand and stepped out of the real estate office.
The sun had still been up when they first arrived, but before she knew it, dusk was falling.
Jiwoo kept rubbing his eyes, looking worn out from tagging along with her to look at houses all afternoon.
Yeonjae lowered her gaze to check the time—it was past eight o’clock.
She had planned to just browse a few places quickly, but one turned into two, and before she realized it, more than two hours had slipped by.
Remembering that they had about an hour and a half left before their train, Yeonjae gently guided the child.
“Shall we head back to the train station first? Jiwoo, you must be really tired, right?”
“Mm. A little bit?”
She felt proud of the little boy, who didn’t whine even though he must have been exhausted.
It was just as the two of them reached the subway station.
A line of street food stalls stretched out before the station entrance.
As they walked down the alleyway, the savory aroma drifting through the air caught Jiwoo’s nose, and his head turned toward it automatically.
“Mommy. Jiwoo is hungry.”
Coming to an abrupt halt, the child pointed toward one of the food stalls.
It was a snack cart.
“Can’t we eat that before we go?”
“Tteokbokki? Shall we?”
Yeonjae was also quite hungry, having had an empty stomach all day.
With a bright smile, Jiwoo pulled Yeonjae by the hand toward the stall.
“Jiwoo, we have to stand and eat here. Will you be okay with that?”
“Yes! I’m okay!”
In no time, a plate of tteokbokki, deep-fried snacks tossed in sauce, and sundae were set before them.
A lively sparkle returned to Jiwoo’s eyes, which had looked ready to close in sleep just moments earlier.
“Whew, it’s so yummy. It’s hot!”
“You have to blow on it before eating. Let’s eat slowly.”
The red sauce smeared around the child’s mouth showed just how delicious it was to him.
Color quickly flooded back into Jiwoo’s face.
Even as Yeonjae wiped the edges of his mouth, her mind remained tangled with worry.
‘Will I really be able to find a place?’
The monthly rent in Daejeon and the monthly rent in Seoul were worlds apart.
Of course, looking for a place with two or three rooms contributed to the cost, but even so…
The gap between the cost of living in Daejeon and Seoul was massive.
A monthly rent of 1.4 to 1.6 million won.
In truth, it was not an amount Yeonjae could afford on part-time wages.
Yet she couldn’t live in a single-room studio with a growing child either.
Though she tried hard not to show it in front of Jiwoo, she couldn’t help the anxiety gnawing at her chest.
“Is Mommy’s food yummy too?”
“Yes. Mommy must have been really hungry too, it goes down so easily.”
“Hehe. I’m glad we ate.”
Yeonjae smiled warmly and brushed back the child’s hair.
Perhaps because the food was spicy, beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
“Jiwoo, are you hot?”
“Um, I think I’m a teeny bit hot.”
“Really?”
The weather wasn’t that warm, though.
After completely clearing the plates, the two stepped out of the food stall.
Now that the sun had fully set, the autumn breeze blowing in was quite brisk.
They headed down into the subway station and were walking toward the ticket gates.
“Mommy. Jiwoo needs the bathroom.”
Still holding Yeonjae’s hand, Jiwoo frantically looked around.
The restroom was not far off.
From inside the stall Jiwoo entered, the sound of retching suddenly echoed out, startling Yeonjae.
“Jiwoo?”
“Bleuuugh.”
Yeonjae threw the door open in a panic and saw the boy clinging to the toilet bowl, throwing up everything inside him.
Her eyes widened in horror.
Rushing to Jiwoo, Yeonjae dropped to her knees to check on him.
His face, which had been full of color just moments ago, had turned as pale as the white bathroom tiles.
“Jiwoo, what’s wrong?”
“Mommy, Jiwoo’s tummy… hurk.”
The food he had eaten only a short while ago came surging back up, completely undigested.
“Gaaack.”
As Yeonjae patted his back, she realized the white T-shirt he wore was drenched and clammy with cold sweat.
Only then did the image of the child sweating at the food stall flash through her mind.
It hadn’t been because the food was spicy; he had already started feeling unwell back then.
“Mommy, Jiwoo… hurts.”
Moving to the sink, she wiped the vomit from around his mouth.
Large tear drops welled up at the corners of the child’s eyes after throwing up repeatedly.
“Oh dear, the little one looks sick. Does he keep vomiting?”
“Yes. He suddenly started throwing up.”
A middle-aged woman washing her hands at the adjacent sink spoke up to Yeonjae.
“There’s an emergency room near here. They should have pediatrics, so go have him checked out. The poor boy’s face is as white as a sheet. Let me see, what was the name again? It’s that really big hospital.”
“I know where it is. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Yes, yes. Hurry and go on.”
Yeonjae already knew the hospital the woman was referring to.
She scooped Jiwoo up into her arms.
He had grown too big for her to carry comfortably now, but she had no room in her head to worry about such things.
* * *
Perhaps because the nearby emergency room was a regional emergency medical center, they had to wait for a long time even after registering.
Jiwoo kept running back and forth to the restroom, and just as Yeonjae felt on the verge of collapsing from the endless waiting, he was finally assigned a bed.
Yeonjae let out a shallow, shaky breath.
When they first arrived at the emergency room, the boy couldn’t even leave the bathroom.
Jiwoo had thrown up everything he had eaten, eventually vomiting up yellow bile.
What if it was a serious illness?
What if something went terribly wrong? Yeonjae’s heart burned with agonizing dread.
However, once the IV fluids and antiemetics were administered, Jiwoo’s cold sweats subsided, and he drifted off to sleep.
Watching the child sleeping peacefully, Yeonjae was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
Had the tteokbokki from the street stall this evening been the problem?
“…I should have just gone straight home.”
Why did she push him so hard?
A crushing wave of self-reproach crashed over her, and Yeonjae buried her face in her hands.
Once the spiral began, the thoughts tormented her relentlessly.
Raising a child on her own, every single day was a battle.
She would work her part-time shift, come home to care for her child, and finish the pile of remaining housework.
Through it all, Yeonjae never had the luxury of falling sick.
Perhaps because she was always so tense, she rarely even registered her own pain.
Yet whenever her child was sick like this, everything ground to a complete halt.
Being sick herself and watching her child suffer were entirely different matters.
Jiwoo was the one in pain, but Yeonjae, watching from beside him, felt as if she were standing right at the gates of hell.
“You went through so much because of Mommy.”
Yeonjae gently smoothed down the boy’s tangled hair.
The curtain pulled back, and a doctor stepped in to check the IV drip. About a quarter of the fluid remained in sight.
“Jiwoo has acute gastroenteritis. We’ve administered medication, and once he takes the prescribed medicine, he’ll recover quickly.”
“Ah. Yes.”
She had wondered if it might be gastroenteritis, and it seemed that was indeed the case.
“His CRP levels are slightly elevated, likely due to dehydration, so he can be discharged once the IV finishes running.”
“Thank you so much.”
The doctor adjusted the drip so the fluid would flow a little faster, said his goodbyes, and turned to leave.
Only after the doctor left did Yeonjae sink heavily into the temporary chair.
Should she just be grateful that it wasn’t anything more serious?
Yeonjae rubbed her tired face and picked up the phone lying beside her.
[23:50]
The last train had been around eleven-thirty, so there would be no trains left if she went now.
Now that she knew Jiwoo was stable, the reality of what to do next loomed dauntingly over her.
Should she take a taxi all the way back with a sick child?
Or should she try to book a room at a nearby motel?
None of the options felt right.
Just in case, Yeonjae unlocked her phone and scrolled through her contacts.
A sparse list of names. A heavy shadow fell over Yeonjae’s face as she scrolled down.
“…There’s no one.”
Even when she desperately needed help, there was no one she could reach out to.
A deep sense of loneliness seeped into her chest. With a heavy, desolate heart, Yeonjae rested her forehead against her hand.
A man’s face flashed across her mind.
Without realizing it, she had thought of Jeheon, but she quickly shook her head.
Why was she thinking of that man at a moment like this?
Yeonjae bit down hard on her lower lip.
At that very moment, the phone in her hand began to vibrate.
[CEO Gu Jeheon]
Seeing the six characters saved on the screen made Yeonjae’s heart ache with a sudden tightness.
It was almost magical how his call came through the instant she thought of him.
After hesitating for a split second, Yeonjae pressed the answer button.
—Jung Yeonjae, why aren’t you replying to my messages?
She had noticed a message from Jeheon when she first arrived at the emergency room.
She simply hadn’t had the luxury of checking it.
—Just what kind of prior engagement was it?
Why did his discontented voice over the receiver bring her such immense relief?
Little by little, heat rose to sting the rims of Yeonjae’s eyes.
“…Gu Jeheon-ssi.”
Her voice trembled unsteadily as it slipped through her parted lips.
“Could you… come here, please?”
And with that, the tears she had been desperately holding back spilled over.
