Deal Breaker - Chapter 51

Click.

At the sound of a button being pressed, Kanghyeon shifted his gaze from the monitor to the now-open door. Sitting at the desk in front of the secretary’s office, Hyeji was turning a small fan on and off repeatedly. It was already the fifth time that morning.

‘It’s only March. Isn’t it a bit early to be using a fan?’

In front of the fan’s breeze, Hyeji even started fanning herself with her hand as she muttered to herself,

“Hot, then cold, over and over. Is this menopause?”

Menopause? At twenty-six?

Kanghyeon turned his eyes back to the monitor. It probably hadn’t even been fifteen minutes before he finished reviewing the Strategic Support Team’s report, added his questions, and sent it back via email. When he glanced out the door again, Hyeji was dozing off with her eyes closed, her head bobbing up and down.

“Secretary Noh.”

She jolted awake at his voice, dropping the pen in her hand. Kanghyeon walked into the secretary’s office and perched himself on the edge of her desk.

“Why are you so sleepy these days?”

She’d never been caught napping at work before.

“What are you doing at night?”

“I sleep at night.”

“……”

“Alone.”

“When did I say anything?”

“Ha…”

Instead of a clever retort, Hyeji sighed, slapping her sleep-heavy cheeks with her palm as she stood.

“Would you like some coffee, sir?”

“No.”

As Kanghyeon started back toward his office, a thought crossed his mind, and he followed her into the break room. Standing in front of the espresso machine, Hyeji pulled out an extra cup, as if expecting him to want coffee, but he returned it to the shelf.

“Secretary Noh, you look tired lately.”

“Yes, I’m tired.”

“And your face looks puffy for someone who’s been eating poorly.”

“So you’re telling me I’ve gained weight in a roundabout way, aren’t you?”

“What I’m saying is, maybe there’s something wrong with your thyroid.”

Hyeji’s half-closed, drowsy eyes flew open wide. The two of them immediately stood in front of a mirror. There were no visible or palpable lumps on her neck, but that wasn’t enough to feel reassured.

“Get a check-up tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Will you be alright without me tomorrow?”

“Do I look like a child?”

“But there’s so much work tomorrow…”

“What’s the number for the clinic?”

“Ah, I’ll call.”

Only when Kanghyeon moved as if he’d call himself did Hyeji quickly dial the health screening center. She followed his instructions and made an appointment, but instead of being reassured, Kanghyeon grew more frustrated.

“You’re too complacent.”

This, from a girl whose mother had died of cancer.

* * *

“You just need to fill this out completely and bring it back.”

“Yes.”

Sitting in the waiting area of the health screening center, Hyeji moved her pen over the questionnaire handed to her by a nurse.

Family history.

Has anyone in your family suffered from or died of the following diseases?

Yes.

She marked a check under ‘Cancer’.

Alcohol consumption.

How much alcohol have you consumed in the past year?

Answering honestly made her feel indignant. Looking back over the year as a whole, she had barely drunk. On payday, when the deposit was in eight digits and her bank balance in ten, she’d have a single can of beer with that as her ‘side dish’. So, a can of beer a month? Even that habit had stopped after she bought her apartment, as there was no “side dish” left in the account.

But the one time she’d drunk heavily—on moving day—had dragged her average and maximum consumption figures sky-high. It made her look like a chronic alcoholic.

Next to ‘Maximum amount consumed’, she scribbled ‘just once’ in small letters and moved on. As she filled out the questions, her pen suddenly froze midair.

Are you currently taking birth control pills…

Birth control pills… Birth control shot!

The pen slipped from Hyeji’s hand.

That contraceptive injection she was supposed to get every six months! She was supposed to get it in early December last year, but she hadn’t. She had just now remembered.

How could I forget for four whole months!

Looking back, it had been an incredibly busy period, but even then, she hadn’t completely lost her mind for four months straight. How could she have forgotten so completely?

If she’d gotten her period, she would have realized she’d missed the shot. When she was on the shot, her periods were short and light, or even absent. For six years, having no period had become normal for her.

And then a shocking realization struck her. Without the shot, her period should have returned. But it hadn’t. Not for four months.

And in that time, she had guided. On New Year’s Day, in Dubai.

Recalling all the symptoms that had brought her here today, Hyeji shot to her feet. She ran to the pharmacy on the first floor of the hospital and bought a pregnancy test. Without delay, she went straight to the nearest restroom and took the test.