Chapter 28: I’ll Wait

During the meeting, Director Lee was at the front giving various reminders.

Everyone paid close attention to the director’s words.

“We’ve got a lot of stories to cover today, so let’s be extra mindful while preparing the broadcast.”

There were so many major reports that day, and the director’s message dragged on longer than usual.

Looking down at the densely packed script of news reports, it was easy to understand why.

“Let’s wrap up the meeting.”

With that closing remark, the news item meeting came to an end.

The director quickly left the room, apparently headed to a tight schedule.

Ugh, the workload’s insane.

Only after watching him walk out did the team finally stretch and let out their pent-up sighs.

“Good work, everyone.”

“Thanks for the hard work.”

Senior Yeong-Joon also stood and started organizing his things.

“Senior, thanks for letting me borrow your pen.”

“You can use it anytime you need one.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got plenty back at the office.”

He finally accepted the pen I handed back and left the conference room.

“Alright then. I’ve got to head to the editing room—see you later.”

“Yup, see you.”

But something bugged me.

I always kept my pen clipped inside my planner, and now it was gone.

“Where did my pen go?”

It was a special pen. I couldn’t afford to lose it.

“I left it at my desk—maybe someone threw it out?”

Worried that it might truly be missing, I got up.

I needed to check for sure.

As soon as I stepped into the Programming Department office, I flinched at the stares that clung to me.

The tension and distrust in those glances hadn’t changed.

Why is the office so empty?

The space felt especially deserted, and the few juniors who remained shot me wary looks.

I set down the documents and meeting notes I was carrying and looked around.

Wondering if it had fallen while I was moving my bag, I pulled out my planner and began checking every corner.

But the pen was nowhere to be found.

I really can’t lose that…

Just then, the office door swung open, and a group came straight toward me.

In one junior’s hands was a whole cake.

“Senior, it’s a bit late, but congratulations on your return.”

“And congrats on your anchor appointment.”

“Oh… Uh, thanks.”

They walked up to me and held out a cake with lit candles.

At a glance, it looked like a cheerful surprise celebration, but the rest of the office watched on with sour expressions.

“Blow out the candles—they’re going to melt.”

Ugh.

The dense mango mousse scent hit me like a wave, and I barely kept from gagging.

I forced myself not to react to the nausea as the cake, topped with melting candles, was pushed toward me.

The juniors holding it didn’t look happy at all. It was obvious they had been told to do this.

Who put them up to this…?

And of all things—a mango cake.

Mango made me dizzy and nauseated. It was a fruit I never ate.

“The director said we had to make sure to do this. Even if it’s a little awkward, please accept it.”

Why would the director go out of his way for this? With the way everyone had been treating me lately, this was only going to make things worse. The stares on me were tinged with even more resentment.

“We heard mango cake was your favorite, so we had it custom-made.”

“Mine? Who said that?”

Me, liking mango?

I couldn’t hide the frown forming on my face as I made eye contact with Seo-Rin, who emerged from the group.

She stepped up beside the junior holding the cake and flashed an impossibly bright smile.

“Unnie, you’re a total mango addict. That’s why we went out of our way to get this.”

Others around her nodded along with her words.

Her smile slowly faded, and she fixed me with a chilling stare only I could see.

“You’ll eat it with us, right?”

While everyone else was busy, I snuck off to the bathroom and threw up.

The more I thought about it, the more stunned I was.

Seo-Rin had deliberately given me a mango cake, knowing I couldn’t stomach it.

So petty.

I wiped the moisture from my lips with a tissue.

Just then, the bathroom door slammed open and Seo-Rin entered.

“Unnie, wasn’t the cake good? We bought it from a really popular bakery.”

She approached the sink and washed her hands, smiling sweetly at me through the mirror.

“How childish. You know I can’t eat mango.”

“Childish? Do you know how hard it was for me to get that cake?”

Her tone tightened at my accusation. She turned around and walked toward me with her heels clicking sharply.

The corners of her lips curled into a sneer.

“Can’t you appreciate the thought that I picked something you would like?”

Given how Seo-Rin was known to be close with me, she probably did it to maintain her public image.

Her act was so absurd, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

My sudden laugh wiped the smile off her face instantly.

“I was just thinking, this must be exhausting for you. Buying gifts for me at Ji-Han’s request, getting a congratulatory cake for me… No wonder your emotions are all twisted up.”

The moment his name—Ji-Han—came out of my mouth, Seo-Rin’s face flushed red.

I stepped closer, watching her force a bitter smile.

“Oh, and you know this, right? That Seo Ji-Han once handed me a marriage registration form?”

Her eyebrows, already drawn tight, knotted further at the word “marriage.”

She always did react sharply to those three syllables.

“So what? You two broke off the engagement anyway.”

She spat the words, her face twisted with irritation.

“Yeah, we did. But it’s not that easy to dissolve ties between families. Ji-Han won’t let me go so easily.”

Out of everyone, Seo-Rin had probably been the happiest to hear about our breakup.

She was likely calculating in her head already—how can I take her place?

“He’ll marry someone similar to me, even if it’s not me.”

That was a direct jab—but not at you. Her expression shifted.

The blush faded from her face, leaving behind a pale, ashen tone.

Of course, she must have thought his side would become hers the moment I was out of the picture.

Feeding into that fantasy, I pressed on.

“Do you get what I’m saying?”

“…”

“You might get his affection, but you’ll never truly have him.”

I dropped the line just to twist the knife.

“What do you know?! Oppa said he wants to be with me!”

She clung to those sugar-coated words Ji-Han had fed her.

Gone was the composed Seo-Rin—she now yelled, voice sharp and brittle.

Her tightly clenched jaw was oddly satisfying to see.

“If that were true, you’d be the anchor, not me.”

“…Ha. What are you talking about?”

“Ji-Han’s the heir to Hojin Group. If he really wanted to, you’d have gotten the position instead of me.”

I wanted her to cling to that man even more desperately. So if she was hesitating about anything—don’t. Go all in.

“Oppa would never leave me.”

Though her face had drained of color, her eyes still burned with conviction.

As if she had something to lean on—some guarantee.

“If thinking that makes you feel better, then go ahead.”

Her hand trembled as she gripped the hem of her dress.

I gave her a sidelong glance and finished coldly, “Don’t try too hard. Just enjoy it while it lasts.”

With that, I turned and walked away.

—

After that, Seo-Rin didn’t return to the office before the broadcast started.

Imagining her seething somewhere else made me feel surprisingly satisfied.

I’d nearly forgotten about the mango cake.

As the broadcast approached, I completed my final movement check and sat in my chair.

A staff member came by to adjust the mic on my collar.

I was reviewing the cue sheet, prepping for the show, when a message popped up on my phone, sitting on the chair beside me.

[There’s a strange item in my house. – Jae-Ha]

A strange item? Why tell me?

I tilted my head, unsure what he meant.

Another message followed shortly after.

[Are you sure you didn’t forget anything? – Jae-Ha]

[I don’t think so?]

I couldn’t recall leaving anything behind, so I responded briefly.

And besides, I couldn’t be the only one who’d ever been to that huge house.

[Surely I’m not the only one who’s been to your place, Jae-Ha.]

Just as I was about to put my phone down, another message came in—a photo.

“Ah!”

I jumped to my feet without thinking.

“Oh—no, I’m fine. Please carry on.”

I waved off the startled staff, awkwardly sitting back down.

In the photo, I instantly recognized something familiar—he was holding my fountain pen.

That’s mine!

The engraved name Yoon stood out in clear lettering.

It was the pen my grandfather had given me when I passed the anchor audition.

I nearly dropped my cue sheet.

Why is my pen at his place?

[Coincidentally, there’s only one Ms. Yoon who’s been in and out of my house. – Jae-Ha]

How did it end up there?

I didn’t hesitate—I called him right away.

—“See? It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His voice over the phone was laced with amusement.

“Why do you have that? I’ve been looking for it all day!”

—“I found it wedged in the couch today. I think you left it that night.”

He must’ve meant the night he invited me for dinner.

I did leave my bag on the couch. Maybe it fell out of my planner then.

Whatever the reason, I was just relieved it wasn’t lost.

“Sigh… That pen means a lot to me.”

All day, I hadn’t been able to focus at work. That pen was irreplaceable—there was no other like it.

“Well, I’m just glad it’s not lost. Are you home now? I’ll swing by after the news to get it.”

—“I’m home, yeah. When does your show end?”

I glanced at the clock—10:50 p.m.

Finishing the broadcast and packing up would take time. I’d probably be late.

“After 11. If it’s too late, I’ll come by your office tomorrow during the day.”

—“It’s fine. Come to the station’s outdoor parking lot after you’re done.”

The station parking lot?

Didn’t he say he was already home?

Before I could ask, he added, I’ll wait.