Chapter 32

The waitress came back with small side dishes—kimchi, seasoned seaweed, marinated squid—and placed them neatly on the table. I picked up my chopsticks to distract myself, poking at the seaweed without much appetite.

Sera, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms lightly, her presence commanding even in such a simple restaurant. Everyone kept sneaking glances—men, women, even the kids who couldn’t stop whispering to their parents.

When the live abalone was brought out, wriggling slightly in the hot pan before it was cooked down, a murmur ran through the restaurant. It wasn’t just the food they were impressed by. It was her.

The waitress set the pan down carefully, then the crab and mackerel followed soon after. She hesitated a moment before leaving, stealing one more look at Sera as if she couldn’t believe someone like her had walked into their restaurant.

Sera picked up her chopsticks and looked across at me. “Eat. Don’t just sit there staring.”

“I wasn’t staring,” I muttered, though my voice betrayed me.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. “Then what were you doing?”

“I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” she pressed.

I froze. About how my wife will end me if she ever finds out I’m here with you.

Of course I couldn’t say that.

So I forced a shrug. “Nothing important.”

She didn’t push further. Instead, she carefully cracked open the crab shell, steam rising as the meat glistened inside. Without hesitation, she reached across the table, holding out a piece with her chopsticks. “Here.”

My eyes widened. “What—”

“Try it,” she said firmly, not giving me a chance to refuse. “It’s good.”

I glanced around nervously. People were already watching. If I leaned forward and took food from her chopsticks, it would only make things look worse. Like we were… a couple.

But her gaze didn’t waver.

Slowly, hesitantly, I leaned forward and took the bite. The crab was fresh and sweet, melting in my mouth.

Sera smiled faintly, satisfied. “See? I was right.”

I swallowed quickly, my throat dry despite the food. My chest felt tight, my hands clammy. 

Trying to regain some distance, I focused on my own plate, tearing apart the grilled mackerel and piling rice on top. But Sera’s presence was impossible to ignore. She ate with grace, every small motion drawing attention from the tables nearby. Even the ajusshi sitting behind us, who had been loudly joking with his friends a moment ago, had gone quiet, stealing glances at her as if mesmerized.

And through it all, I kept shrinking into myself, praying this night would just end without any accidents.

Halfway through the meal, Sera set down her chopsticks and looked at me directly. “You’re still nervous.”

I stiffened. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp, as if she could see right through me. “You’ve been on edge since the moment you got in my car. Are you that afraid of being seen with me?”

My heart skipped. I didn’t know how to answer.

“…It’s just complicated,” I said at last, lowering my gaze.

For a moment, silence stretched between us. I could feel her studying me, waiting for me to explain. But I couldn’t. If I said too much, everything would unravel.

Finally, she leaned back, her expression unreadable. “Fine. I won’t ask—for now.”

Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. Because right after, she smirked slightly and added, “But just so you know… I don’t regret bringing you here. Not even a little.”

I froze, my chopsticks hovering above the rice.

Her words lingered in the air, unsettling, almost dangerous.

I forced a weak smile and lowered my head, pretending to focus on my food. Inside, though, my thoughts were racing.

This is bad. This is really, really bad. 

___________

I forced myself to eat more, even though every bite felt heavy. My stomach twisted with nerves, not hunger. Meanwhile, Sera seemed to enjoy herself more with each passing minute. She cracked crab shells with ease, dipped the meat into sauce, and even ordered a second dish of spicy clams without asking me first.

The more she smiled, the more the room seemed to shift toward her. The ajummas behind us whispered to each other, one even nudging her husband with her elbow as if telling him not to look too much. A group of university students sitting across the room tried to act casual, but every few seconds, their eyes drifted back to Sera.

I wanted to disappear.

When she reached across the table again, this time offering me a piece of abalone, I quickly shook my head. “I can get it myself.”

Her brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she ate it herself, as if testing me.

I tried to focus on eating quickly so we could leave sooner. But Sera wasn’t in a rush at all. She seemed to enjoy every slow bite, every sip of water, as if she had all the time in the world.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she set her chopsticks down and wiped her lips with a napkin. “That was good.”

I immediately reached for the bill, desperate to end this. But the waitress, already starstruck by Sera, shook her head politely. “It’s already taken care of.”

I blinked. “What?”

Sera smirked. “I paid when you weren’t looking.”

“You should’ve told me—” I began, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

“Relax. It’s just dinner.”

Just dinner? Maybe for her. But for me, it was like walking through a minefield with no way out.

When we stood up, the stares grew even stronger. People actually paused mid-bite to watch her walk toward the door. A couple of young men leaned closer to each other, whispering something I couldn’t catch, probably about how she looked like a celebrity.

And me? I walked a step behind, wishing I could vanish.

The bell above the restaurant door jingled as we stepped outside. The air was cooler now, the sun already setting. Her Porsche gleamed under the fading light, drawing even more attention from people passing by on the street.

Sera walked straight to the driver’s side, but before getting in, she turned to me. “Well? Are you just going to stand there? Get in.”

I groaned under my breath and slipped into the passenger seat.

As soon as she started the engine, the low roar of the car turned heads again. She adjusted the rearview mirror, then glanced at me.

“You’re too tense,” she said casually. “If you keep sitting like that, people will think I kidnapped you.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Feels like you did.”

She smirked at that, clearly amused. Without another word, she pulled onto the road, the car gliding forward effortlessly.

I kept my eyes on the passing streetlights, my mind heavy. Dinner was already too much. Where is she planning to take me next?

But more than anything, one thought kept circling back, louder than the hum of her car.

__________

Every time Sera shifted gears, the car leapt forward with effortless power, making me sink a little deeper into the seat. People on the sidewalk stopped mid-step to look, their eyes following as if a celebrity had just passed by.

I shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Sera. She was focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against her thigh to some rhythm in her head. She looked so calm as if nothing in the world could unsettle her.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “So… where are we going now?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let the silence stretch a little, as if enjoying how uneasy I was. Then, with a faint smile tugging at her lips, she said, “I’m hungry again.”

I blinked. “Again? We just ate.”

“That was seafood,” she replied smoothly, her eyes still on the road. “I want something else now. Something… warmer. Heavier.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling trapped. “We could’ve just stayed at the restaurant and ordered more.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. I don’t want more of that. I want meat. Something grilled. Don’t you like barbecue?”

Of course I did. But the thought of being seen again—me, sitting with her, people staring at us like we were on a date—made my stomach twist. I leaned back against the seat, staring at the passing neon signs.

“You don’t have to keep feeding me,” I muttered. “Really. I’m fine.”

“That’s funny,” she said, tilting her head slightly in my direction. “Because I don’t remember asking what you wanted.”

My mouth opened, then closed. I had no comeback. She smirked at my silence.

We drove for another ten minutes before she slowed down in front of a well-known barbecue place. The glowing red sign flickered above the entrance, and through the wide glass windows I could see the place was nearly full. Groups of friends, couples, office workers all crowded around sizzling grills, smoke rising in soft white clouds.

My heart dropped. “Here? Really? It’s packed.”

“Exactly,” she said, parking smoothly. “Best places always are.”

I swallowed hard, my hands tightening into fists on my lap. If someone from university sees me here…

“Hey.” Her voice cut into my thoughts. “Stop frowning.”

I turned my head. She was leaning slightly toward me, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. “You look like you’re going to a funeral. It’s just dinner. With me. Why are you acting like I’m dangerous?”

Because she was dangerous—just not in the way she thought.

I forced a weak smile. “I’m just… not used to this.”

Her lips curved into that faint, knowing smirk again. “Good. Then get used to it.”

Before I could answer, she stepped out of the car, drawing stares instantly. The sound of her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked around to the restaurant. Heads turned inside, conversations paused, and for a moment it felt like the whole world noticed her.

I sat frozen for a second, watching through the glass as people straightened in their seats, their eyes following her every move. Some whispered and some just stared openly.

Then she looked back at me, one brow raised as if to say, Are you coming or not?

I let out a long, tired sigh and finally pushed the door open.

Walking beside her felt like stepping under a spotlight I didn’t want. Every step I took, I imagined Yuna’s voice echoing in my head—sharp, cold, furious.

I clenched my jaw.