Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Flowers Five Years Ago, Too
The two of them had spent nearly the entire night indulging in one another, as if slaking a long-held thirst.
Yeonjae had left early in the morning for the concert venue.
She had said Jiwoo would be coming straight over with Seoha’s family, so she needed to be there ahead of time.
When Jeheon offered to drive her, she shook her head, telling him to get some more rest.
Jeheon had never needed much sleep to begin with.
As soon as Yeonjae left, whatever sleep remained vanished completely, and he got ready as well.
Coming down from the second floor where the bedroom was, the stillness filling the house settled palpably against his skin.
‘The house is too big for just the two of us.’
At first, he hadn’t understood why she thought fifty pyeong was so large.
But looking around the empty house now, the weight of her words finally struck home.
Having arrived late last night and headed straight to the bedroom with Yeonjae without a chance to look around, only now did he properly take in the details of the house.
Reaching the first floor, Jeheon stopped in front of the table by the living room sofa.
A drawing filled a sheet of white sketch paper.
A large window, and in front of it, a black grand piano.
Sitting on the piano bench were three figures, their backs turned.
A man and a woman sat on either side of a small boy.
Musical notes floated all around the three of them.
Seeing the three smiling figures in the drawing brought an unbidden smile to Jeheon’s lips.
“Wonder who he takes after to draw this well.”
Even though the squiggly lines looked like crawling earthworms, Jeheon could easily tell who was who.
Had Seongjae been there to hear him, he might have shaken his head in fond exasperation.
“That Jiwoo boy is the fourth-generation sole heir of our family. An absolute treasure. Oksoo-daek, did you hear? We have a great-grandson in our family!”
“Oh my. Congratulations, Chairman! You wanted one so badly, I’m so glad for you.”
“I know, right? If only Madame Kang Jeongsuk were alive to see this, she would have been thrilled.”
Jeheon could vividly picture Jigang speaking with such familiar warmth about a child he had never even met in person.
“You shouldn’t be too good at everything. Your great-grandfather is already eyeing you.”
The corners of Jeheon’s mouth curled into an elegant arc.
Carefully placing the paper back on the table so it wouldn’t wrinkle, he stepped outside.
While the two of them prepared for the recital, Jeheon planned to stop by a flower shop to buy some flowers.
He headed toward a flower shop nearby.
It was a place a female employee in the secretarial office had found for him, saying it had excellent reviews after running in the same spot for ten years.
At the chime of the door bell as Jeheon walked in, the owner looked up from her phone.
“I’d like a bouquet, please.”
“What size would you like?”
Size?
Did bouquets come in sizes?
Jeheon seemed to ponder for a moment before speaking.
“The largest one you have.”
“The largest? That’s about a hundred stems, is that all right?”
“Yes. Please make it big and lavish.”
The owner’s eyes widened.
In truth, having never bought flowers himself, Jeheon had no sense of how much a hundred stems actually was.
He had always been on the receiving end, and whenever flowers were needed, his subordinates bought them; this was his first time visiting a florist in person.
The owner’s gaze swept over Jeheon.
Taking in his attire, neatly styled down to the vest, she gave an understanding nod.
“Ah, you’re proposing! Let’s see… I don’t have a hundred stems of just red roses, but if I include all the colored roses I have and mix in complementary flowers, I can get you an extra-large bouquet.”
Jeheon paused at the florist’s words as she surveyed the blossoms in the showcase.
“You must be nervous. Did you prepare a ring? People these days usually rent a hotel room and decorate it nicely, but a bouquet—young man, you’re quite the romantic.”
‘A proposal?’
He had already proposed yesterday.
“I don’t have a ring.”
“What? Who proposes without a ring these days? There’s a department store downtown on your way—go buy one there. Take it from an auntie who knows.”
The owner laughed, setting a large armful of flowers down on the workbench.
“When my husband proposed, he didn’t bring flowers just because I ran a flower shop, and oh, was I upset!”
“…”
“That was over thirty years ago, and I still bring it up whenever we fight! A proposal means the world to a woman! Ugh, just thinking about it makes me annoyed all over again.”
The florist grumbled in a sulky tone, as if irritated just remembering her husband.
“Will she not accept the proposal without a ring?”
“Of course not, young man! You’ll get dumped like that.”
She added firmly to Jeheon’s quiet inquiry.
Telling him to be sure to buy a ring on his way.
Was that why she hadn’t answered his proposal yesterday?
Jeheon recalled how Yeonjae had never given an answer when he asked her to marry him.
From the moment they fell asleep at dawn to when she woke in the morning and left for the concert venue, Yeonjae hadn’t mentioned the marriage proposal once.
“It won’t take long to arrange the flowers, so just wait a moment.”
As he watched the woman’s busy hands moving swiftly, an afterimage flickered across Jeheon’s mind.
Just like hers, the hands of a woman in his fleeting memory moved in a flurry.
“A bouquet? What size would you like?”
“Extra-large? That’s enormous, are you sure?”
Hands finishing up an arrangement while glancing briefly at Jeheon as he entered the florist’s shop.
The shop he had happened upon back then had been run by a young owner.
When asked what size he was looking for, Jeheon had answered just as he had now.
That he wanted the largest size.
The flickering memory gradually grew clearer, seizing hold of his mind.
“All right. I’ll make it beautiful for you by four o’clock, so please come back then. Normally, we don’t take same-day orders for extra-large sizes, but since it seems like a special day, I’ll do it for you.”
“…A special day?”
“Yes, yes. It’s an important day, isn’t it?”
The florist had smiled warmly at Jeheon.
“Well, I suppose it is an important day. She did say she really wanted to receive flowers for her recital.”
In the memory, he had looked puzzled at first, but soon curved his lips into a smile.
“A recital? Ah, so it wasn’t a proposal. Here I thought it was a proposal because of the ring.”
The florist had blinked, her eyes rounding in surprise.
Her gaze had directed toward the shopping bag in Jeheon’s hand. The distinct blue hue belonged to a luxury jewelry brand Jeheon knew all too well.
‘Please make sure to come. It’s my first recital. I want to receive flowers from you, CEO.’
‘You’re asking for a lot.’
‘Promise me. Don’t be late. I have something to tell you. Something important.’
Another fragment of memory flickered by like an afterimage.
In it, Yeonjae smiled at Jeheon, telling him she wanted to receive a bouquet.
And keeping her words in mind, he had visited a flower shop.
Jeheon’s brow furrowed tightly.
Along with the scattered memories resurfacing, a searing, wrenching headache washed over him.
* * *
After remaining inside his car for a long while, Jeheon was finally able to enter the concert hall once the headache subsided.
Though called a hall, it was a modest space with only about twenty seats.
Scanning the stage, Jeheon opened the door labeled “Waiting Room.”
Sitting on the sofa looking over sheet music, the child lifted his head, his eyes widening in surprise the moment he spotted Jeheon.
“Mister!”
The child sprang up from his seat and came pattering over to Jeheon.
In an instant, the boy wrapped himself around Jeheon’s leg.
“It hasn’t been a month yet!”
Like mother, like son.
Seeing the child say the exact same thing Yeonjae had, Jeheon chuckled softly.
“Did you come early?!”
Excitement rang through the boy’s flushed, eager voice as he asked.
Jiwoo’s face beamed so brightly that just looking at his radiant smile made Jeheon’s heart tickle.
What a wondrous little being. How could anyone be so lovely?
Jeheon used to detest children, but Jiwoo was different.
Even before knowing he was his son, this child had already carved out a place in his heart.
“I missed you, so I came.”
Jiwoo’s eyes grew as wide as saucers.
It had always been Jiwoo who expressed affection, saying he missed him and liked him. Hearing Jeheon’s confession—or what felt like one—for the very first time, the boy’s cheeks flushed crimson bit by bit.
“Son.”
Jeheon’s large hand settled gently atop Jiwoo’s head.
He stroked the child’s hair softly before slowly opening his arms to draw him into an embrace.
‘Jiwoo wonders too. About Daddy…’
The image of the boy constantly wondering about his father flickered persistently before his eyes.
The small body tucked snugly into his arms.
Had he known Jiwoo was his son, he would have held him like this long ago.
Imagining how lonely and exhausting those five years must have been for the child, Jeheon felt an ache tighten in his chest.
“I’m sorry Daddy is late.”
The tip of the child’s nose flushed as red as his blushing cheeks.
