Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 8
It was Jiwoo’s homeroom teacher.
“Yes, Teacher. I was just about to head over. Is something the matter?”
Was the child fretting as he waited for her? A faint smile touched Yeonjae’s lips just as she started the engine.
―Jiwoo’s mother. It’s just that… I think you need to come right away.
Yeonjae froze at the voice coming through the speaker.
―Um… do you know the Guil Foundation? Someone from there came looking for Jiwoo. He says he wants to meet with you.
Even after the call ended, Yeonjae’s hands trembled.
Hearing those three syllables with her own ears made it feel as though her entire world was being shaken to its core.
―He says he’s CEO Gu Jeheon.
A name she never imagined she would hear again.
Yeonjae’s heart began to pound erratically.
Hardly knowing how she had managed to drive there, she arrived at the kindergarten and rushed inside.
The counseling room in the distance gradually drew nearer.
As she closed the distance, cheerful chatter drifted through the counseling room door. It was Jiwoo’s voice.
And the low voice that answered every now and then was maddeningly familiar.
It was long past time to forget. Yet that low melody was unforgettable.
Bypassing the principal, who recognized Yeonjae and tried to speak to her, she swung the door open.
As the door opened, the little boy directly ahead recognized Yeonjae and waved.
“Mom!”
“Jiwoo-ya!”
The wave of relief upon spotting Jiwoo was fleeting.
Yeonjae’s gaze slipped past the child, drifting to a man standing with his back turned.
A dark navy suit draped sharply from broad shoulders.
Along with his immaculately styled hair, the man standing with his back turned moved slowly.
Upon facing Yeonjae, the corners of his mouth curved upward, forming a smile.
Watching her with an expression that made it impossible to tell whether it was a sneer or a smile, his lips parted.
“It’s been a while.”
Under a gaze that locked onto hers with relentless intensity, Yeonjae squeezed her eyes shut.
Countless thoughts had tangled in her mind on the drive over.
Why, of all the foundation’s many employees, did it have to be him, Gu Jeheon?
Did he find out about the child? Was that why he came?
‘Or could his memories have…?’
Her heart clenched tightly, and Yeonjae squeezed her clasped hands.
“Jung Yeonjae.”
Yeonjae opened her eyes at the three syllables etched into her ears.
Her vision cleared gradually, bringing the man’s face into sharp focus.
The Jeheon standing before her was not a bit different from the man who had appeared in her dreams day after day.
He was still aloof, beautiful, and brilliant.
Unlike her, whose entire world was trembling, whose heart felt ready to burst, who felt like bursting into tears just looking at him.
Jeheon stared at Yeonjae without once looking away.
As the silence stretched between them, a heavy stillness settled over the counseling room.
“Oh my, do you two know each other?”
The homeroom teacher standing beside Jiwoo stepped toward Yeonjae.
“Mother. He says Jiwoo plays the piano exceptionally well. Honestly, I think so too, and our piano teacher said the same. Besides, Guil is such a famous institution.”
“…….”
“The foundation has a clean reputation, and a famous pianist runs it directly. If it’s Jiwoo, he’ll definitely thrive there.”
The teacher continued in an excited voice, as if the Guil Foundation were some magical pair of wings.
Yeonjae, however, barely held onto her composure at the words ‘Guil Foundation.’
The past she had momentarily forgotten, intoxicated by the reunion, abruptly surfaced.
“And Jiwoo loves playing the piano. If you two are acquainted, why not—”
“I have no intention of doing so, Teacher. Jiwoo-ya, stand up. Let’s go home.”
Yeonjae walked over to Jiwoo sitting across the table and took his hand to lead him up.
If his memories of her had truly returned…
And if he had found out about the child, he would not have come to the kindergarten like this.
He would have come as Gu Jeheon, not as the CEO of the Guil Foundation.
‘Do you even know the child next to you is your son?’
Yeonjae swallowed the words rising to the tip of her throat.
Of course he wouldn’t know.
Yet not knowing was a fault in itself. Jeheon-ssi had forgotten what should never have been forgotten.
“I find it very unpleasant that you came looking for us out of the blue like this. We don’t know each other well.”
“…….”
“Jiwoo-ya, get up.”
Yeonjae pulled on Jiwoo’s hand once more.
The child’s small hand gripped the shoulder strap of his kindergarten bag.
Jiwoo remained stubbornly planted in his seat, his face full of reluctance.
She knew very well how much the child wanted to play the piano.
Yet she had no intention of teaching him the piano. Sending him to the foundation was even more out of the question.
“Jung Jiwoo.”
Just as she used a stern tone toward the child—
A soft scoff of laughter echoed from the side.
“And here I thought we were quite well acquainted.”
Yeonjae turned her head at the voice that followed.
Jeheon, who had been sitting quietly, uncrossed his arms.
Leaning forward from where he had been reclining back, his gaze locked steadily with Yeonjae’s.
The corners of his lips curled upward as he looked at her.
“Pianist Jung Yeonjae.”
Yeonjae flinched at the word ‘pianist.’
As if just as surprised, Jiwoo squirmed in her grasp.
Turning her eyes down, she saw the boy looking up at her with eyes as wide as fists.
Her memories as a pianist. That was a past buried deep in her mind when she left the foundation.
A painful memory not even worth reminiscing about.
So it was something she should never have to drag back up, nor hear of again.
“The one and only disciple of the master, Pyo Myunghee.”
At the voice dredging up the past she had barely managed to forget, Yeonjae froze where she stood.
“Mother, you were a pianist? I heard you played piano, but…”
“…….”
“Pyo Myunghee is a world-renowned pianist. To think you were her disciple! So that’s why Jiwoo takes after you and has such a gift for piano!”
Clueless about the underlying circumstances, the homeroom teacher clapped her hands in admiration.
Among everyone present, Yeonjae was the only one frozen stiff.
“She was the pride of our foundation. Ah, Jung Yeonjae-ssi was affiliated with the Guil Foundation, you see.”
Hearing talk of the foundation spill from his lips at last, Yeonjae clenched her fists.
A hollow sense of desolation washed over her.
He was such an overbearing man. She felt foolish for having hoped, even for a moment, that his memory might have returned.
“Please… stop.”
Despite her warning to stop, the man did not avert his eyes.
His refusal to back down was palpable.
“Teacher, we’ll be taking our leave now. Jiwoo-ya, say goodbye.”
Refusing to waste any more emotional energy, she moved to leave the counseling room.
“You’re being too harsh on someone who came all the way from Seoul.”
Yeonjae turned around at the voice echoing in her ears once more.
“Especially when it’s our first time seeing each other in five years.”
Yeonjae glared at Jeheon with sharp, narrowed eyes.
“Which is why I’m asking for a moment of your time. Jiwoo’s mother.”
He phrased his request for a conversation politely, but it was nothing short of a silent threat.
A veiled question asking if she was really fine with continuing the conversation right here.
He signaled with his eyes, gesturing past Yeonjae.
Her gaze followed his line of sight.
The homeroom teacher watching the situation with intrigued eyes.
And the moment she saw Jiwoo looking utterly confused, Yeonjae had no choice but to let go of his hand.
She bit down hard on her lower lip.
Then, she finally knelt down to meet Jiwoo at eye level.
“Jiwoo, could you wait here for just a moment? Mom has something to talk about.”
“Okay. I’ll stay here with the teacher!”
Nodding vigorously, Jiwoo answered brightly and went back to sit in his seat.
“Don’t fight with the mister, okay?”
Hearing the word ‘mister’ come from Jiwoo’s lips pierced deep into Yeonjae’s heart.
“Of course. I’ll just talk to him quickly and come right back.”
Ruffling Jiwoo’s hair gently with a smile, Yeonjae turned around.
And she walked over to where Jeheon stood.
As she drew closer, a storm of emotions surged within her.
Finally, she came to a halt before him.
Yeonjae looked up at him with eyes steeped in deep resentment, then brushed past him and stepped out of the counseling room.
“……Let’s go.”
Her voice was as cold and sunken as her gaze.
