“Did you have a taste engraved in your genes? Now I understand why Dad is crazy about your mom.”

Choi Moo-jin—the landlord’s son. Seventeen years old. A high school student. That was his age when I first met him. Choi Moo-jin, who was straightforward and beautiful. Falling for him felt inevitable; he was like an angel with his bright, open smile.

Now, twenty-eight.

“It’s the same house even if you don’t move. Secretary Jung has such a big head,” Yeon-ha said, frustration evident.

Yeon-ha had devoted her body and soul to Moo-jin for eleven years. But she had stopped loving him. She decided to end their relationship, one that was tangled up only in the physical.

“Let’s meet tomorrow,” she said firmly. “You can’t live like a s*ave forever. I need to pay off my debts too.”

Moo-jin, who always cared so much about her body, made her think it would be a simple end—like cutting a thread with a pair of scissors. But that was an illusion.

“Look at your favorite match once or twice, over and over again, until you’re exhausted. What then? You’ll understand it. Being my steady toy would be better for you.”

It was nothing more than her naïve belief that he would ever let her go.

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