when the phone rings novel

Baek Sa-eon raised an eyebrow.

"Someone you used to date, or someone who's your lover now—"

When the blackmailer mocked him, asking if he had some kind of jealousy disorder and why he came to such a conclusion, it felt as though he had been struck hard on the head.

A wave of discord surged in his mind. That paranoid way of thinking—always assuming someone was trying to take Hong Hee-joo away. So why—why did everything always revolve around Hong Hee-joo? And why did he feel like that was natural?

The impact Baek Sa-eon experienced now was like a building collapsing.

At that moment, Assistant Park clapped his hands and added, "We can't let that person keep joking about the fish tank anymore, sir. You should put a stop to it."

"..."

The lingering feeling that someone was meddling in the relationship between husband and wife refused to go away. What would happen if the 2 billion won the blackmailer demanded somehow ended up in Hong Hee-joo's hands? What if someone had proposed a deal to her? Then who would be responsible?

And who would be the crueler one?

The answer was obvious.

A faint expression of displeasure began to surface on the man's face.

"About the voice changer," he said coldly, issuing instructions to Assistant Park.

There was only one solution.

"See if it can be removed."

If there's a leak, you have to plug it.

"Ah—so that's why there was a smell of fishy water."

This was something 12-year-old Hee-joo had heard for the first time that required translating.

"I hate water, but having to deal with two goldfish is really annoying."

His voice was as flat as his indifferent demeanor, showing no emotion. Yet, the words he spoke as he put down his workbook carried an air of casual finality.

"Why do Chairman Hong's daughters each have their own problems?"

At that moment, her older sister, In-ah, gently nudged her with an elbow.

Hee-joo pondered whether she should translate those unfiltered words exactly as they were.

As her sister's tutor, the neighbor's grandson, Baek Sa-eon, had been chosen. While the scene was orchestrated by the adults, at least the two children, both dressed in school uniforms, appeared calm.

Baek Sa-eon showed proper respect to the adults, with impeccable attire and a composed attitude.

But as soon as it was just the children left, he revealed his true nature, propping his chin on his hand.

This seemingly mature 18-year-old boy flipped through the workbook and glanced at Hee-joo.

"You're Hong In-ah's ears, aren't you?"

His jet-black hair framed sharp features, casting shadows even when he wasn't moving. His gaze seemed capable of pulling in everything it touched. His pale skin was smoother than her sister's, and his face was excessively handsome, no matter how you looked at it.

"What use are those tofu-like ears, anyway?"

Baek Sa-eon pressed down on his ballpoint pen, a faint frown crossing his face.

"If I say something wrong, those ears would probably break instantly, wouldn't they?"

In-ah nudged her with her elbow again. Hee-joo sighed and began to write.

Although she wasn't yet fluent in sign language, ever since the accident, her sister would only rely on her, leaving them no choice but to make do without hiring someone else.

The child gripped her pencil and neatly wrote a sentence on the page.

"She wants to eat tofu."

Baek Sa-eon glanced at the notebook, then abruptly turned his head. His elegant profile, momentarily disheveled, carried a hint of distraction as he murmured, "A child translator..."

Even though his voice was low, his pronunciation was so precise that it was clearly audible.

Her sister nudged her gently again.

An 18-year-old boy, a 16-year-old girl, and a 12-year-old child.

His gaze fell on the seated Hee-joo, and In-ah instinctively wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders. For the first time, her usually aloof sister made such an affectionate gesture.

From that moment on, Baek Sa-eon carried out his tutoring with his usual impassive demeanor.

"If you mess up the calculations again, I'll pour cold water over your head."
'In-ah, you can do better! (๑•᎑•๑)!'

"If you show me your exam scores, maybe this engagement can be canceled."
'I'm really embarrassed (/∇＼)!'*

"Even that little kid isn't sleeping, so why are you dozing off?"
'I'm just so tired ( ˃⌓˂᷅ )...'

At some point, Hee-joo stopped simply translating and started mistranslating.

The tutoring sessions continued until Baek Sa-eon suddenly left the country. At the time, Hee-joo's height still didn't reach his chest.

Between the two who were slowly nearing adulthood, Hee-joo was always the one playing catch-up. The gap between them was insurmountable—not just physically, but in every way.

As time went on, even the physical distance between them grew wider.

A few days before he left:

'Why do you hate water?'

Hee-joo couldn't suppress the strange impulse and wrote the question.

Baek Sa-eon, working on a math problem, froze for a moment when he saw it.

By then, he was already a man in his twenties. He tore out a page of his solution notes and handed it to Hong In-ah.

Yet his cold whisper fell near Hee-joo's ear.

"Because every night, I dream of drowning in a river."

Ah...

After hanging up the phone, she somehow ended up falling asleep in her room. When she woke, it was already morning.

Hee-joo rose from bed as if chasing a distant dream, her mind still hazy. Though she had known Baek Sa-eon since childhood, the distance between them had always remained constant.

That older brother, always six steps ahead—the tutor who now was her distant husband. No matter how hard she tried, she could never catch up to his time. Even now, as adults, this hadn't changed.

I've always been caught between the two of them...

Her sister had seen Baek Sa-eon the day before she disappeared? The thought stirred something deep inside her, making her feel as though her place wedged between the two of them in the past hadn't ended—it was still happening.

I need to learn more about what happened to my sister.

A sudden melancholy weighed on her mood. She absently wiped the corner of her eyes, then walked toward the kitchen.

Baek Sa-eon always returned after midnight and left early in the morning, while Hee-joo would sleep early and start her day late. The inability to ever align with him, to walk side by side, filled her with a deep sense of powerlessness. The longstanding disappointment pressed on her shoulders like a persistent fatigue.

As usual, she turned on the noisy television to fill the silence of the house and opened the refrigerator door.

"Why are you changing the channel?"

"...!"

She choked on her water and spat it out. Hee-joo was so startled that she didn't even notice her pajama top getting soaked. Her mouth hung open as she stared.

The man sitting at the dining table frowned slightly.

"Still half-asleep?"

He reached for the remote and switched the channel back to the news.

Why is he here...

Perhaps because of that dream, everything about reality felt blurry.

"No need to stare. I'm working this afternoon," he said flatly, eyes fixed coldly on the news.

Baek Sa-eon's hair was still slightly damp, as if he had just finished showering. He wore loose-fitting sweatpants and a simple short-sleeved T-shirt, his hair completely covering his forehead. He leaned lazily against the chair, one arm draped over the edge, his chin resting on his hand. His side profile, with his eyes half-focused on the TV, was so striking it drew her gaze for a moment too long.

"Go eat something first," he said without looking at her, his tone indifferent.

But Baek Sa-eon himself was sipping on an Americano, his stomach clearly empty since morning.

Is his body really okay?

She could still catch a faint hospital scent clinging to him. Was he really taking proper care of himself?

Hee-joo frowned, trying to hide her concern. Just as she did, her eyes met his.

He narrowed his eyes and set down the coffee cup with a sharp clink against the glass.

"Don't drink coffee on an empty stomach."

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not giving you any. Eat first."

He gestured toward the kitchen with a nod of his chin.

"It's not that..." Hee-joo scratched her forehead awkwardly and obediently walked toward the rice cooker.

Baek Sa-eon watched her like a hawk, and as always, her clumsiness became apparent. The hardened rice was difficult to scoop out. She stood on tiptoes, struggling to scrape it from the edges when a strong smell wafted up to her nose.

"Even scooping rice is beyond Hong Hee-joo?"

He snatched the rice scoop from her hand.

"I thought, at the very least, you'd be good at feeding yourself."

Frowning slightly at the state of the rice cooker, he adeptly removed the pot and placed it in the sink. Then, he pulled out a frying pan, followed by eggs, sausages, tomatoes, and asparagus.

Strangely, the atmosphere in the kitchen was unusually calm this morning.

"This feels off..." Hee-joo pinched her own cheek. This wasn't how a normal couple would spend their morning.

The fact that Baek Sa-eon hadn't already left for work and was still here, cooking in the kitchen—it felt unsettling.

"This is like a horror movie."

In his hands, eggshells cracked with precision, sausages were sliced cleanly, and his movements carried an unusual edge. His coarse hands cut the asparagus, tossing it into the pan to roast. His strong arms pressed the lid of the blender down as he made juice.

Watching him multitask, chewing on something while cooking, Hee-joo couldn't help but feel nervous. It wasn't just cooking—it was... mesmerizing. She swallowed involuntarily.

Finally, the brunch was plated and served on a large dish.

"Finish it all," he ordered, sitting across from her with his arms crossed.

She was sure she'd choke on it.

"You've been picky about egg yolks since you were a child, so I made an omelet instead."

The golden-yellow egg slices on the plate felt as intimidating as a yellow card.

"And you don't drink milk, right?"

"..."

"Drink it."

He poured white milk into a glass and pushed it in front of her.

Was this... a new form of torture?

Hee-joo mechanically picked up her chopsticks.

"Also, I won't divorce you."

Cough, cough...!

She choked immediately.

The dry egg had barely entered her mouth when she started coughing violently. Hee-joo hurriedly grabbed the glass of milk and gulped it down in large swallows.

"I'm only worried someone might be feeding you the wrong ideas," Baek Sa-eon said, his gaze fixed on her with his characteristic indifference.

Meanwhile, Hee-joo's neck flushed red all the way to her ears as she coughed softly, trying to suppress her embarrassment. 

Baek Sa-eon raised an eyebrow.

"Someone you used to date, or someone who's your lover now—"

When the blackmailer mocked him, asking if he had some kind of jealousy disorder and why he came to such a conclusion, it felt as though he had been struck hard on the head.

A wave of discord surged in his mind. That paranoid way of thinking—always assuming someone was trying to take Hong Hee-joo away. So why—why did everything always revolve around Hong Hee-joo? And why did he feel like that was natural?

The impact Baek Sa-eon experienced now was like a building collapsing.

At that moment, Assistant Park clapped his hands and added, "We can't let that person keep joking about the fish tank anymore, sir. You should put a stop to it."

"..."

The lingering feeling that someone was meddling in the relationship between husband and wife refused to go away. What would happen if the 2 billion won the blackmailer demanded somehow ended up in Hong Hee-joo's hands? What if someone had proposed a deal to her? Then who would be responsible?

And who would be the crueler one?

The answer was obvious.

A faint expression of displeasure began to surface on the man's face.

"About the voice changer," he said coldly, issuing instructions to Assistant Park.

There was only one solution.

"See if it can be removed."

If there's a leak, you have to plug it.

"Ah—so that's why there was a smell of fishy water."

This was something 12-year-old Hee-joo had heard for the first time that required translating.

"I hate water, but having to deal with two goldfish is really annoying."

His voice was as flat as his indifferent demeanor, showing no emotion. Yet, the words he spoke as he put down his workbook carried an air of casual finality.

"Why do Chairman Hong's daughters each have their own problems?"

At that moment, her older sister, In-ah, gently nudged her with an elbow.

Hee-joo pondered whether she should translate those unfiltered words exactly as they were.

As her sister's tutor, the neighbor's grandson, Baek Sa-eon, had been chosen. While the scene was orchestrated by the adults, at least the two children, both dressed in school uniforms, appeared calm.

Baek Sa-eon showed proper respect to the adults, with impeccable attire and a composed attitude.

But as soon as it was just the children left, he revealed his true nature, propping his chin on his hand.

This seemingly mature 18-year-old boy flipped through the workbook and glanced at Hee-joo.

"You're Hong In-ah's ears, aren't you?"

His jet-black hair framed sharp features, casting shadows even when he wasn't moving. His gaze seemed capable of pulling in everything it touched. His pale skin was smoother than her sister's, and his face was excessively handsome, no matter how you looked at it.

"What use are those tofu-like ears, anyway?"

Baek Sa-eon pressed down on his ballpoint pen, a faint frown crossing his face.

"If I say something wrong, those ears would probably break instantly, wouldn't they?"

In-ah nudged her with her elbow again. Hee-joo sighed and began to write.

Although she wasn't yet fluent in sign language, ever since the accident, her sister would only rely on her, leaving them no choice but to make do without hiring someone else.

The child gripped her pencil and neatly wrote a sentence on the page.

"She wants to eat tofu."

Baek Sa-eon glanced at the notebook, then abruptly turned his head. His elegant profile, momentarily disheveled, carried a hint of distraction as he murmured, "A child translator..."

Even though his voice was low, his pronunciation was so precise that it was clearly audible.

Her sister nudged her gently again.

An 18-year-old boy, a 16-year-old girl, and a 12-year-old child.

His gaze fell on the seated Hee-joo, and In-ah instinctively wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders. For the first time, her usually aloof sister made such an affectionate gesture.

From that moment on, Baek Sa-eon carried out his tutoring with his usual impassive demeanor.

"If you mess up the calculations again, I'll pour cold water over your head."
'In-ah, you can do better! (๑•᎑•๑)!'

"If you show me your exam scores, maybe this engagement can be canceled."
'I'm really embarrassed (/∇＼)!'*

"Even that little kid isn't sleeping, so why are you dozing off?"
'I'm just so tired ( ˃⌓˂᷅ )...'

At some point, Hee-joo stopped simply translating and started mistranslating.

The tutoring sessions continued until Baek Sa-eon suddenly left the country. At the time, Hee-joo's height still didn't reach his chest.

Between the two who were slowly nearing adulthood, Hee-joo was always the one playing catch-up. The gap between them was insurmountable—not just physically, but in every way.

As time went on, even the physical distance between them grew wider.

A few days before he left:

'Why do you hate water?'

Hee-joo couldn't suppress the strange impulse and wrote the question.

Baek Sa-eon, working on a math problem, froze for a moment when he saw it.

By then, he was already a man in his twenties. He tore out a page of his solution notes and handed it to Hong In-ah.

Yet his cold whisper fell near Hee-joo's ear.

"Because every night, I dream of drowning in a river."

Ah...

After hanging up the phone, she somehow ended up falling asleep in her room. When she woke, it was already morning.

Hee-joo rose from bed as if chasing a distant dream, her mind still hazy. Though she had known Baek Sa-eon since childhood, the distance between them had always remained constant.

That older brother, always six steps ahead—the tutor who now was her distant husband. No matter how hard she tried, she could never catch up to his time. Even now, as adults, this hadn't changed.

I've always been caught between the two of them...

Her sister had seen Baek Sa-eon the day before she disappeared? The thought stirred something deep inside her, making her feel as though her place wedged between the two of them in the past hadn't ended—it was still happening.

I need to learn more about what happened to my sister.

A sudden melancholy weighed on her mood. She absently wiped the corner of her eyes, then walked toward the kitchen.

Baek Sa-eon always returned after midnight and left early in the morning, while Hee-joo would sleep early and start her day late. The inability to ever align with him, to walk side by side, filled her with a deep sense of powerlessness. The longstanding disappointment pressed on her shoulders like a persistent fatigue.

As usual, she turned on the noisy television to fill the silence of the house and opened the refrigerator door.

"Why are you changing the channel?"

"...!"

She choked on her water and spat it out. Hee-joo was so startled that she didn't even notice her pajama top getting soaked. Her mouth hung open as she stared.

The man sitting at the dining table frowned slightly.

"Still half-asleep?"

He reached for the remote and switched the channel back to the news.

Why is he here...

Perhaps because of that dream, everything about reality felt blurry.

"No need to stare. I'm working this afternoon," he said flatly, eyes fixed coldly on the news.

Baek Sa-eon's hair was still slightly damp, as if he had just finished showering. He wore loose-fitting sweatpants and a simple short-sleeved T-shirt, his hair completely covering his forehead. He leaned lazily against the chair, one arm draped over the edge, his chin resting on his hand. His side profile, with his eyes half-focused on the TV, was so striking it drew her gaze for a moment too long.

"Go eat something first," he said without looking at her, his tone indifferent.

But Baek Sa-eon himself was sipping on an Americano, his stomach clearly empty since morning.

Is his body really okay?

She could still catch a faint hospital scent clinging to him. Was he really taking proper care of himself?

Hee-joo frowned, trying to hide her concern. Just as she did, her eyes met his.

He narrowed his eyes and set down the coffee cup with a sharp clink against the glass.

"Don't drink coffee on an empty stomach."

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not giving you any. Eat first."

He gestured toward the kitchen with a nod of his chin.

"It's not that..." Hee-joo scratched her forehead awkwardly and obediently walked toward the rice cooker.

Baek Sa-eon watched her like a hawk, and as always, her clumsiness became apparent. The hardened rice was difficult to scoop out. She stood on tiptoes, struggling to scrape it from the edges when a strong smell wafted up to her nose.

"Even scooping rice is beyond Hong Hee-joo?"

He snatched the rice scoop from her hand.

"I thought, at the very least, you'd be good at feeding yourself."

Frowning slightly at the state of the rice cooker, he adeptly removed the pot and placed it in the sink. Then, he pulled out a frying pan, followed by eggs, sausages, tomatoes, and asparagus.

Strangely, the atmosphere in the kitchen was unusually calm this morning.

"This feels off..." Hee-joo pinched her own cheek. This wasn't how a normal couple would spend their morning.

The fact that Baek Sa-eon hadn't already left for work and was still here, cooking in the kitchen—it felt unsettling.

"This is like a horror movie."

In his hands, eggshells cracked with precision, sausages were sliced cleanly, and his movements carried an unusual edge. His coarse hands cut the asparagus, tossing it into the pan to roast. His strong arms pressed the lid of the blender down as he made juice.

Watching him multitask, chewing on something while cooking, Hee-joo couldn't help but feel nervous. It wasn't just cooking—it was... mesmerizing. She swallowed involuntarily.

Finally, the brunch was plated and served on a large dish.

"Finish it all," he ordered, sitting across from her with his arms crossed.

She was sure she'd choke on it.

"You've been picky about egg yolks since you were a child, so I made an omelet instead."

The golden-yellow egg slices on the plate felt as intimidating as a yellow card.

"And you don't drink milk, right?"

"..."

"Drink it."

He poured white milk into a glass and pushed it in front of her.

Was this... a new form of torture?

Hee-joo mechanically picked up her chopsticks.

"Also, I won't divorce you."

Cough, cough...!

She choked immediately.

The dry egg had barely entered her mouth when she started coughing violently. Hee-joo hurriedly grabbed the glass of milk and gulped it down in large swallows.

"I'm only worried someone might be feeding you the wrong ideas," Baek Sa-eon said, his gaze fixed on her with his characteristic indifference.

Meanwhile, Hee-joo's neck flushed red all the way to her ears as she coughed softly, trying to suppress her embarrassment.