Chapter 12:

The serene silence of Ha-neul's grand suite in Venice was broken by the shrill ring of his phone. Ha-Neul stirred groggily, blinking against the soft golden light filtering through the luxurious curtains. He glanced at his phone and saw his mother's name flashing on the screen. Frowning, he picked it up, switching to Korean instantly.

"여보세요? 어머니?" (Hello? Mother?)

"하늘아! 지금 당장 베네치아 공항으로 와!" (Ha-neul! Come to the Venetian airport right now!) his mother's familiar voice came through, a mix of urgency and excitement.

Ha-neul sat up straight, his heart skipping a beat. "뭐라고요? 어머니, 무슨 일이세요?" (What? Mother, what's going on?)

"네가 외롭다면서! 그래서 내가 여기로 왔다. 네가 이렇게 멀리서 혼자 고생하는 걸 더는 볼 수가 없어서." (You said you were lonely! So I came here. I couldn't bear knowing you were struggling all alone so far away.)

"어머니, 베네치아까지요?" (Mother, you came all the way to Venice?) His voice rose in shock, panic beginning to set in.

"그래, 하늘아. 빨리 와. 여기가 너무 복잡하고 정신이 없어." (Yes, Ha-neul. Hurry up. It's so crowded and confusing here.)

Ha-Neul ran a hand through his messy hair, his mind racing. This was his mother's *first* time in Venice, and she'd come alone? "알았어요, 곧 갈게요. 거기서 절대 움직이지 마세요." (Okay, I'm coming right away. Don't move from where you are.)

"알겠어. 빨리 와." (Okay. Come quickly.)

The line went dead. Ha-Neul stared at his phone for a moment, then leaped into action.

In his haste, Ha-neul grabbed the nearest shirt from a chair and struggled to pull it over his head while standing. His arm got caught in the sleeve, and he stumbled, falling onto the floor with a loud thud.

"아, 진짜!" (Ugh, seriously!) he muttered to himself, getting up quickly. He managed to throw on the shirt properly and grabbed his keys and wallet. Without bothering to fix his tousled hair, he bolted out of the room.

At the reception desk, the staff greeted him politely. "Good morning, Mr. Kang."

"Car keys," he said hurriedly, switching back to English. "I need the car keys. Now."

The receptionist, used to his occasional moments of urgency, nodded and handed him the keys.

"Thank you," he muttered before rushing out to the private parking lot.

Ha-neul parked his sleek black car near the arrivals terminal and rushed inside. The crowded airport was buzzing with activity, but it didn't take long for him to spot his mother. She was in the middle of a heated argument with a porter.

"이봐요! 이 가방을 저기까지 옮겨줘야 하는 거 아니에요?" (Hey! Aren't you supposed to carry this bag over there?) she was saying, gesturing to her luggage.

The porter looked utterly lost, clearly not understanding a word. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't understand."

"어머! 이 사람 무슨 말인지 못 알아듣네." (Oh my! This man doesn't understand a word I'm saying.) She turned to her luggage, muttering under her breath in frustration.

Ha-neul rushed over, his face burning with embarrassment. "어머니!" (Mother!)

His mother turned, her expression softening instantly at the sight of her son. "하늘아! 드디어 왔구나." (Ha-Neul! Finally, you're here.)

He turned to the confused porter, speaking quickly in English. "I'm so sorry for the trouble. I'll take it from here." He handed the man a generous tip, grabbed the luggage, and turned back to his mother.

"어머니, 여기 사람들은 한국어를 못 알아들어요." (Mother, people here don't understand Korean.)

"알지. 그런데 너무 답답해서 그만!" (I know, but I was so frustrated, I couldn't help it!)

Ha-neul sighed and took her hand gently. "어머니, 공항까지 어떻게 혼자 오셨어요? 걱정 많이 했어요." (Mother, how did you get to the airport alone? I was so worried.)

As they walked to the car, Ha-neul's mother began speaking, her voice filled with emotion. "하늘아, 지난주 내내 너무 불안했어. 네가 여기서 혼자 외롭다고 했을 때, 가슴이 아팠어. 그래서 더는 참을 수 없었어." (Ha-neul, I've been so restless all week. When you told me you were lonely here, it broke my heart. I just couldn't take it anymore.)

Ha-neul paused, looking at her with a mixture of guilt and gratitude. "어머니... 그렇게까지 신경 쓰지 않으셔도 됐는데요." (Mother... you didn't have to go to such lengths.)

"어머니라면 당연히 신경 써야지. 네가 내 아들인데." (Of course I had to. You're my son.) She smiled warmly, squeezing his hand.

They got into the car, and as Ha-neul drove back to the hotel, his mother continued. "여기까지 오는 길이 쉽지 않았지만, 네가 행복한 모습만 보여주면 나는 괜찮아." (It wasn't easy getting here, but as long as I see you happy, it's all worth it.)

Ha-neul glanced at her briefly, his chest tightening. "어머니, 제가 얼마나 감사한지 모르실 거예요. 이렇게까지 와 주셔서 정말 감사합니다." (Mother, you have no idea how much I appreciate this. Thank you so much for coming.)

She patted his arm affectionately. "하늘아, 네가 행복하면 나도 행복해. 그리고 다음엔 네가 자주 연락했으면 좋겠어." (Ha-neul, if you're happy, I'm happy. And next time, I want you to call me more often.)

He nodded, smiling faintly. "알겠습니다. 약속할게요." (I will. I promise.)

When they arrived at the hotel, Ha-neul helped his mother out of the car and escorted her into the grand lobby. Her eyes widened as she took in the opulent décor, the soaring ceilings, the sparkling chandeliers, and the elegant marble floors.

"이게 다 네 호텔이야?" (Is this all your hotel?) she asked, her tone tinged with awe.

"네, 어머니. 처음이죠?" (Yes, Mother. It's your first time here, right?)

She nodded, looking around with pride. "정말 대단하다, 하늘아. 이렇게 멋진 곳에서 일하다니. 내가 얼마나 자랑스러운지 몰라." (It's amazing, Ha-neul. To think you work in a place like this. You have no idea how proud I am.)

Ha-neul smiled, leading her toward the private elevator that would take them to his suite. "어머니, 앞으로 여기 있을 동안 제가 다 챙길게요. 편하게 쉬세요." (Mother, while you're here, I'll take care of everything. Just relax and enjoy yourself.)

She squeezed his arm, her eyes glistening with tears. "하늘아, 네가 내 아들이라서 정말 행복하다." (Ha-neul, I'm so happy you're my son.)

As the elevator doors closed behind them, Ha-neul felt a warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel lonely.

***

The soft clinking of china and the gentle hum of chatter filled the elegant Parisian café as the waiter returned to the table where Scarlet and Ha-Joon sat. His hands carefully balanced a tray with two beautifully crafted goodie dolls-one a girl in a delicate white dress, the other a boy dressed in a sharp black suit.

Scarlet's eyes lit up the moment she saw them. "Oh my gosh, they're adorable!" she exclaimed, reaching for the dolls.

The waiter smiled at her enthusiasm, setting the dolls down carefully. Ha-Joon, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, chuckled at her reaction.

"You can have them both if you like," Ha-Joon said, his tone calm but fond.

Scarlet looked up at him, surprised. "Really? But don't you want one?"

He shook his head. "No, you keep them. You've always loved dolls."

Scarlet grinned, cradling the tiny figures in her hands. "Thank you! You know, we could add them to our collection."

Ha-Joon's expression shifted slightly at the mention of their collection. Back when they were dating, they had a tradition of collecting goodie dolls from every special date or event. That collection had grown over the years, filled with memories of happier times.

Scarlet seemed to realize the weight of her words and hesitated. "I mean... if that's okay with you."

Ha-Joon looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Let's keep the tradition alive."

Scarlet's smile returned, a little softer this time. She placed the dolls carefully in her bag, her mind drifting to the past, while Ha-Joon quietly finished his coffee.

At another table in the same café, Christine and Thomas were locked in a heated argument over the goodie dolls the waiter had just brought to them.

"I don't understand why this is even a discussion," Christine said, exasperated. "You keep them."

"No way," Thomas countered, pushing the dolls toward her. "You're the sentimental one. You take them."

Christine groaned, glaring at the dolls. "Sentimental? Me? I don't even want them!"

Thomas smirked, picking up the girl doll and holding it out. "Fine, I'll keep her. You take the boy doll."

"What?" Christine's eyebrows shot up. "Why on earth would I take the boy doll?"

"Because," Thomas said, grinning mischievously, "it'll remind you of this 'fake date' and me. Isn't that romantic?"

Christine recoiled at the suggestion. "Romantic? It's disgusting! Why would I want to be reminded of you?"

"Exactly why I think it's perfect," Thomas said, shoving the boy doll into her bag before she could protest further.

Christine stared at him, aghast. "I can't believe you!"

Thomas shrugged, unbothered by her reaction. "You'll thank me later."

"I doubt that," she muttered, zipping her bag forcefully as they got up to leave.

The car ride back to the office was tense, with Christine fuming silently while Thomas seemed to enjoy her irritation. Meanwhile, Ha-joon and scarlet sat on the back seat of the car, Ha-joon still wondering about what scarlet said earlier, when scarlet was only looking at the cute dolls in her hand, smiling ear to ear.

By the time they arrived, scarlet was itching to get back to work just to forget about the ridiculous morning. In her cabin, Scarlet was focused on a file spread out on her desk, the light from her desk lamp casting a warm glow on her workspace. She glanced up when Christine walked in.

"Christine," Scarlet said, gesturing to the chair across from her, "sit down. This is going to take a while."

Christine sighed, dropping into the chair. She placed her bag on the floor, but something caught her eye. The boy doll's head was peeking out from the top of the bag, its cheerful painted face mocking her.

Her irritation flared again as she pulled the doll out, holding it like it was something foul. Scarlet, who had been focused on her work, looked up and noticed Christine's expression.

Suppressing a laugh, Scarlet asked, "What's that?"

"This," Christine said, waving the doll in the air, "is the most ridiculous thing I've ever been forced to own."

Scarlet's lips twitched as she tried not to laugh. "Forced? Who forced you?"

"Thomas," Christine replied, her tone dripping with annoyance. "He thought it would be funny to make me take this. Said it would remind me of him."

Scarlet couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "That sounds exactly like something Thomas would do."

Christine groaned, standing up. She marched over to the dustbin, holding the doll over it as if she were about to drop it in. But then, after a moment of hesitation, she sighed and stuffed it back into her bag.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Christine asked defensively, sitting back down.

"You were about to throw it away, then you changed your mind," Scarlet said, smirking. "Don't tell me you're actually starting to like it."

Christine glared at her. "Absolutely not."

Scarlet chuckled and shook her head. "Alright, if you say so."

Turning back to her file, Scarlet reached for a sketchpad on her desk. "By the way, can you bring me the model I was working on earlier? It's in the design room."

Christine nodded, glad for the distraction. "Which one?"

"The emerald green dress," Scarlet replied, her eyes lighting up. "The one I was working on earlier."

As she left the room, Scarlet leaned back in her chair, glancing at the boy doll still peeking out of Christine's bag. She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Thomas really knows how to get under her skin," Scarlet muttered, returning to her work.

Scarlet glanced at the clock on the wall, frowning. Christine had been gone far longer than expected. The design room wasn't that far from her cabin, and it shouldn't have taken this long to grab the dress. Sighing, she picked up her phone and dialed Christine's number.

After a few rings, Christine answered, her tone rushed. "I'm on my way back. Got caught up talking to one of the interns. Be there in a minute."

Scarlet rolled her eyes but let it go. "Alright, hurry up. I need that dress to finalize a few details."

She hung up and decided to head to the design room herself, partly to check on Christine but mostly because she was too impatient to wait any longer. As she entered the design room, she found it empty. The emerald green dress was still draped over the mannequin, untouched.

"Of course," Scarlet muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "She didn't even grab it."

Resigned, she walked over to the dress and began inspecting it. The fabric was exquisite, rich emerald silk with delicate beadwork that shimmered under the soft light of the room. Scarlet had poured hours into designing this piece, aiming for something bold yet elegant.

She pulled a stool closer and reached for her sketchpad, which she always kept nearby for adjustments. The dress was designed to have a daring neckline and a high slit up one side, balanced by intricate detailing on the bodice that drew attention to the wearer's figure. Scarlet picked up a pencil and began sketching, her mind racing with ideas to make the dress even more eye-catching.

Grabbing a piece of the leftover fabric, she draped it over the mannequin's shoulders, testing how it would look as a sheer overlay. She pinned the fabric in place, stepped back, and tilted her head, studying the effect. It added a hint of mystery while keeping the dress seductive.

Satisfied, Scarlet reached for a spool of thread and began stitching the overlay into place, her movements quick and precise. She lost herself in the work, her focus so intense that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching.

"Red."

The deep voice startled her, and she nearly dropped her needle. Turning, she saw Ha-Joon leaning casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on her.

"It's late," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "You should be resting."

Scarlet sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm almost done. Just a few more adjustments."

Ha-Joon stepped into the room, his gaze drifting to the dress. "This is what's keeping you here? An emerald dress?"

Scarlet smirked, her hands still busy stitching. "Not just any dress. This is going to be a showstopper."

He walked closer, examining the dress with a critical eye. "It's revealing," he remarked.

"That's the point," Scarlet replied, not looking up. "It's bold, confident. It's meant to make a statement."

Ha-Joon didn't respond immediately, his eyes lingering on the intricate details she'd added. Finally, he said, "It suits you."

Scarlet glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "The dress?"

"No," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "The idea of creating something bold and confident. It's very... Red."

Scarlet rolled her eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. Ha-Joon had started calling her Red back when they were children, when once their teacher asked what's the meaning of your name, to scarlet, and she replied with, my name's meaning is 'Red'.

Then he started calling her Red as a mock, but later it changed when he said it's a nod to her fiery personality and her signature love for bold colors. Even now, the nickname carried a certain warmth she couldn't ignore.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Scarlet asked, returning to her work.

"To remind you that you're working too late," Ha-Joon said simply. "And to make sure you eat something before you collapse."

Scarlet laughed softly. "Always so dramatic."

He crossed his arms, watching her for a moment before saying, "You don't have to do everything alone, you know."

Scarlet paused, her needle hovering over the fabric. For a brief moment, her guard slipped, and she looked at him, her expression softer than usual. "I know."

The silence stretched between them, comfortable but charged with unspoken words. Finally, Scarlet broke it, shaking her head and focusing on the dress again. "I'll finish this and then eat, okay? Satisfied?"

Ha-Joon didn't answer immediately, but when he did, his voice was quieter. "As long as you promise."

Scarlet nodded, her hands steady as she stitched the final touches onto the dress. "I promise."

Ha-Joon lingered for a moment longer before turning to leave. "Don't stay too long, Red," he said over his shoulder.

Scarlet watched him go, her heart unexpectedly heavy. She shook off the feeling and focused on her work, determined to finish before the night was over.

***

Ha-neul pushed open the door to his hotel suite, balancing a tray of food in one hand. The warm aroma of freshly baked bread and a steaming bowl of kimchi jjigae filled the room. His mother was standing by the window, her gaze fixed on the picturesque Venetian canal. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the room in a soft glow, but her expression was far from serene.

"엄마, 여기 있어요." (Mom, here it is.)
Ha-neul placed the tray on the small table by the couch, motioning for her to sit.

She turned to look at him, a faint smile on her face, though her brows were knit with worry. "고생 많았다." (You've worked hard.)

He pulled out a chair for her. "엄마, 창문 앞에 서서 뭐해요? 앉아서 먹어야지." (Mom, what are you doing standing by the window? Sit and eat.)

She reluctantly moved to the chair and sat down, her eyes still holding a trace of unease. Ha-neul began setting the plates and utensils, but he noticed her distracted demeanor.

"무슨 생각해요?" (What are you thinking about?) he asked as he poured tea into a cup and handed it to her.

She took the cup but didn't answer right away. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with determination. "하늘아, 너 파리 갈 때 나도 같이 갈 거야." (Ha-neul, I'm going with you to Paris.)

Ha-neul froze mid-motion, the chopsticks in his hand hovering over the tray. "뭐라고요? 엄마가 파리에 왜 가요?" (What? Why would you go to Paris?)

"너 혼자 거기 가는 게 너무 걱정돼." (I'm too worried about you going there alone.)

"엄마, 저는 애가 아니에요." (Mom, I'm not a child.) Ha-neul sighed, sitting down across from her. "제가 알아서 잘 할 수 있어요." (I can take care of myself.)

She shook her head firmly. "그렇다고 해도 내가 불안해." (Even so, I feel uneasy.)

"엄마, 파리에 가도 사촌 형이랑 같이 있을 거예요. 제가 혼자도 아니고요." (Mom, I'll be staying with my cousin in Paris. I won't even be alone.)

At this, his mother's expression darkened. "사촌 형?" (Your cousin?)

Ha-neul knew he'd stepped on a landmine. He groaned internally, bracing himself for what was coming.

"그 놈이랑 협력한다고 들었어." (I heard you're collaborating with that jerk.)

"엄마, 제발..." (Mom, please...) Ha-neul sighed, rubbing his temples.

"하늘아, 네 아빠가 나한테 얘기해줬어. 그 녀석 얼마나 거만하고 자기밖에 모르는지 네가 몰라?" (Ha-neul, your father told me. Don't you know how arrogant and self-centered that guy is?)

Ha-neul tried to interrupt, but she didn't give him a chance. "그 녀석은 네가 잘 되는 걸 질투하고, 네가 싫은 티를 너무 많이 낸다고!" (He's jealous of your success and makes it obvious he doesn't like you!)

"엄마, 그건 옛날 얘기예요. 이제 우리는 성인이고, 일은 일일 뿐이에요." (Mom, that was a long time ago. We're adults now, and work is just work.)

She crossed her arms, her expression stubborn. "아니야. 나는 그 녀석 못 믿겠어. 네가 그 녀석이랑 같이 있을 생각만 해도 미치겠어." (No. I don't trust him. The thought of you staying with him drives me crazy.)

"엄마, 저는 애가 아니라니까요." (Mom, I'm not a child.) Ha-neul leaned forward, trying to sound calm. "제가 제 인생을 알아서 할 수 있어요." (I can handle my life.)

But his mother shook her head. "아니, 나는 안 될 것 같아. 네가 힘들면 나는 견딜 수 없어." (No, I can't do it. If you struggle, I can't bear it.)

"엄마, 제발... 제가 괜찮아요." (Mom, please... I'll be fine.)

"괜찮다고? 내가 모를 것 같아? 그 녀석이 네 뒤에서 어떻게 말할지 나는 다 알 것 같아." (Fine? Do you think I don't know? I can already imagine what he'll say behind your back.)

Ha-neul leaned back in his chair, exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find a way to convince her. But he knew when his mother set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

She leaned forward, her tone softening slightly. "하늘아, 나는 네가 잘 되는 걸 보고 싶어. 그런데 나는 네가 상처받는 걸 더 원치 않아." (Ha-neul, I want to see you succeed. But more than that, I don't want to see you get hurt.)

Her words struck a chord in him, and he sighed deeply. "알겠어요, 엄마. 같이 가요. 하지만 너무 간섭하지 말아 주세요." (Fine, Mom. Let's go together. But please, don't interfere too much.)

Her face lit up with relief, and she reached across the table to pat his hand. "좋아, 네 말대로 할게. 하지만 내가 네 옆에 있어야 안심이 돼." (Alright, I'll do as you say. But I need to be by your side to feel at ease.)

Ha-neul shook his head, smiling despite himself. His mother always won, and this time was no different.