when the phone rings novel
She gazed up at him unblinkingly, countless words on the tip of her tongue—questions, emotions, and things she longed to express. Yet, at this moment, all she could do was lightly tug on his suit jacket.
"I stopped by before work to check on you."
His response, as if reading her unspoken thoughts, was eerily precise. It seemed he had deciphered the confusion behind her gesture.
Hee-joo could only scratch her ear absentmindedly as she lay on the bed, while the man slowly met her gaze.
"How does someone who once had so much to say suddenly become silent?"
"..."
"Weren't you good at singing before?"
"...!"
Though his tone wasn't particularly kind, every word struck a chord deep within her.
"I think I know why. It's because of Hong In-ya's ear injury, isn't it?"
"...!"
"You must have felt wronged."
His voice, low and steady, carried none of the sharpness she had expected. Instead, it was calm and piercing, as if cutting through her carefully built walls.
He gently brushed aside her messy hair, and Hee-joo fought back the sting in her eyes, willing herself not to cry.
"It's fine. This is okay too," he said, the corners of his lips lifting into a faint, enigmatic smile.
"There's more than one way for a husband and wife to communicate."
Unnoticed by either of them, dawn quietly arrived, casting its pale light over the room.
The day passed quickly. Her mother and Chairman Hong hadn't even called to ask about her injuries.
As she stared out the window, lost in thought, her sister suddenly came to mind.
Sister...
Since the accident during their childhood, Hee-joo had grown closer to Hong In-ya. Though her sister had initially been wary of her sudden appearance as a stepsibling, the accident had changed everything.
From that point on, the cautious and guarded In-ya allowed only Hee-joo, her fellow survivor of the car crash, into her inner circle. The once-proud heiress of a wealthy family became a protective older sister to her unassuming stepsibling.
Why did you disappear, Sister...?
She had once chalked it up to her sister's mercurial nature and rebellion, but now it seemed more mysterious.
In the long stretches of solitude, her mind wandered endlessly.
Sister...
They hadn't been particularly close, but their lives had been deeply intertwined, inseparably connected.
What was I thinking when you disappeared?
As her thoughts spiraled deeper, Hee-joo gently shook her head, trying to dispel the growing unease.
She glanced at the clock—it was time to make the call.
"Don't call me again."
His warning echoed in her mind, but she didn't care. It was just a phone call—what could he possibly do?
Beep, beep.
The ringtone sounded, and the dullness in her eyes was replaced by a sudden spark of alertness.
Though the person on the other end was a threat, ironically, her only means of communication was with him—Baek Sa-eon.
Click. The call connected.
"Hello?"
Whoosh—
"Hello?"
Whoosh—
Immediately, the unexpected background noise made her tense. But aside from the sound of rushing water, there was nothing else.
...
Hee-joo eventually pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the screen—the call duration was progressing as normal. Frowning, she brought the phone back to her ear, and a sudden chill crept over her.
—Huff... mm...
A muffled groan, suppressed between clenched teeth.
What was that? Had she misheard?
"Hello? Hello?"
—...Uh. Shibal...
"...!"
Her hand went weak, and a sharp jolt of discomfort pricked her ears.
What... was going on?
Hee-joo barely managed to grab the phone before it slipped out of her grasp. Even through the receiver, she could feel the heat seeping into her ear.
"What are you... doing right now?"
Her heart pounded as a sudden premonition flashed through her mind.
Thump, thump, thump—
Unidentifiable sounds of friction filtered through, mingled with the sound of cascading shower water, low masculine groans, and... something that sounded like smacks or impacts.
—Mm... hah...
"Baek Sa-eon, what are you doing right now?!"
—I told you.
The voice squeezed out between his teeth was heated, and she didn't need to see him to imagine the tension in his clenched jaw.
"—Don't call me."
"What...!"
"—Hmph... you'll regret it."
The low, heavy groans interspersed with soft chuckles only grew hotter, as if climbing a staircase of intensity. The unseen became all the more vivid in her imagination.
Hee-joo's face turned pale as she abruptly sat up in bed.
"Whatever you're doing, stop it right now...!"
"—Say a little more."
"What?"
"—Before I push in, say something, anything."
"...!"
The rough, hurried tone of his voice was terrifying. She swallowed hard.
"I have something to say. We need to talk seriously...!" she stammered, trying to form coherent sentences, but her words were abruptly cut off.
"—Open your mouth wider."
"What, what?"
"—I said, open your mouth wider."
She had questions about her sister, about the Blue House spokesperson. There was so much to address. Her mind spun in chaos, as if swept by a typhoon.
"—So I can push it all the way in."
"...!"
Shame coursed through her, making her hand tremble.
"—406, you're shaking so much."
The wet, rhythmic sound of friction quickened, and his heated breaths poured into her ears like molten iron.
"Crazy..." she muttered.
"—Weren't you so bold back then?"
"..."
"—Try being bold again this time. Take a deep breath."
The faint, humid sound of panting intensified, and Hee-joo felt the heat rising within her. It was as if she were being suffocated, her breath suppressed, her earlobes and the corners of her eyes flushed crimson.
"—When someone gives you advice, you should listen carefully."
"..."
"—Thanks to a disobedient 406, hmph... it's been a long time since I felt this excited."
"...!"
"—Not even in front of my wife."
The sound of his grinding teeth, mixed with something akin to a primal struggle, filled the line.
"—As a husband, I really am inadequate."
"...!"
"—After all, Hee-joo and I are only husband and wife in name."
The smacking, rhythmic collision sounds grew faster and more uncontrolled.
"—This is the first time I've let you hear this, 406."
In that moment, Baek Sa-eon took a deep breath, and all the noise abruptly stopped. Only the rushing sound of water filled the receiver.
Hee-joo, frozen in place, immediately furrowed her brows as if she could almost smell something metallic and sharp.
"Are you... in your right mind right now?" she forced out the words, her voice trembling.
Only then did the heat rise to her head, as if the reality of the situation finally hit her.
What was this? How... could this be happening?
"—...Will you call me again tomorrow?"
His voice, raspy and low, came through as he exhaled deeply. Finally, the sound of the shower turning off cut through the air, and the chaotic rush of water ended. The distinct echo of the bathroom carried over the line.
"You... you..." Hee-joo was completely at a loss.
Is this really Baek Sa-eon?
The man who always appeared immaculate, standing behind the blue podium—was this truly him?
Her face flushed crimson before turning pale once more.
Finally, the water stopped, and the unsettling silence of the bathroom replaced the din.
"—If you call again, I'll do it again."
"You pervert!" she burst out.
He does this just because he knows I'm a woman?
"—And..."
His lazy, deep voice flowed through the receiver.
"—With a voice this loud, wouldn't a listener feel excited?"
This is who you really are, isn't it?!
"Ugh! Someone yank that bastard's hair out!" she shouted, slamming the phone down to hang up.
Still pale, Hee-joo stormed out of the hospital room, her mind racing. Her chest felt tight, and she headed downstairs to the lounge, drawn by the sound of lively chatter.
"Ah, what's he doing, abandoning his poor wife like that?"
"Completely out of line, absolutely out of line."
The scathing voices of a few older women, clutching IV poles, reached her ears.
Hee-joo, legs aching, quietly sat in the back row and craned her neck like a turtle, listening in. Her mind felt like it had been thrown into a washing machine, leaving her drained and slumped over.
"A man's true feelings are often in his lower half."
"Exactly. What's that poor wife supposed to do?"
"What to do? If he misbehaves, you teach him a lesson!"
Hee-joo startled, unsure if her hands had thrown the phone down in anger or if she had simply ended the call in a panicked frenzy, as though running away.
Her heart still pounded as she sat there, replaying the chaos in her head.
The boundaries felt blurred.
Lately, cable TV weekend dramas often depicted scenes like this—an ambitious man abandoning his wife to spend the night with his mistress.
Strangely, one of her legs wouldn't stop trembling.
"Ugh—! Ugh, that scumbag! The wife endured for so many years, and he still ran off to another woman!"
"Just wait. He's definitely going to send flowers and gifts to his wife afterward."
"Exactly, trying to ease his guilt after using his affection in the wrong place."
The older women's reactions were as intense as a referee blowing a whistle, their voices rising in a chorus of indignation. The IV poles they held swayed as they gestured animatedly, hurling incomprehensible curses.
Hee-joo held her forehead and sighed deeply.
"What on earth... just happened?"
The memory of "Call_9.mp3" felt hazy, like a fleeting dream. Just recalling the sticky, sultry sounds made one side of her head feel like it was melting, and her ears burned with heat.
For Hee-joo, it was an overwhelming shock.
"What did he do to me—or rather, to this 406 he's never met? Baek Sa-eon...!"
Her face twisted as her breathing grew rapid.
What startled her most was the realization of what she felt—betrayal.
Perhaps this was the kind of night she never wanted to believe in, one that caught the faintest whiff of an impending affair.