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It was nighttime, the soft hum of the dinner rush filling the warmly lit diner. The scent of grilled meat and herbs drifted through the air as the last of the twilight faded beyond the windows.
Behind the counter stood Seo Mina—a young woman with long, wavy dark brown hair packed neatly into a bun. Stray curls framed her delicate face, and her large, expressive brown eyes held a quiet focus. Her fair complexion glowed softly under the warm lights, a natural blush tinting her cheeks.
"Mrs. Seo Mina, there's an order at Table Five," a staff member called out.
"Alright," she replied, her voice calm and clear.
She adjusted her grip and carefully lifted the tray, moving with practiced ease between tables. Though she wore no makeup and dressed plainly, she had the kind of beauty that made people glance twice—the kind that didn't scream for attention but gently demanded it.
As Mina approached Table Five, the low murmur of conversation paused. A group of businessmen glanced up, their attention briefly caught by the poised woman balancing the tray. She offered a polite, reserved smile, setting the dishes down with care.
"Enjoy your meal," she said softly, her tone professional yet warm.
Mina turned from Table Five, exhaling softly as she adjusted the tray in her hands.
"Mrs. Seo Mina, there's another order ready for pickup!" the cook called from the kitchen.
"Alright," she answered, her voice steady despite the long hours on her feet.
She returned to the counter, placing the empty tray aside. Just as she reached for the next order slip, the bell above the entrance chimed.
The sound was ordinary.
The silence that followed wasn't.
Her gaze drifted up instinctively—and froze.
There he was.
Seo Jiwook. Her husband.
Still in his suit from work, still impossibly handsome in that cold, refined way that used to steal her breath. But it wasn't his presence that made her blood run cold.
It was the girl beside him.
Young. Delicate. Wrapped in luxury from head to toe. Her heels clicked across the tile as she looked around the restaurant with thinly veiled disgust.
"Is this the place? It is… so tacky and… small."
The girl clutched Jiwook's arm as she leaned in, wrinkling her nose like the scent of garlic and oil offended her. "Why would you ever eat here?"
Mina stood still, expression blank, her fingers curling ever so slightly on the counter's edge.
He hadn't seen her yet.
But she had seen everything.
And just like that, the knife in her chest twisted—not because she still loved him, but because she had once believed he loved her.
Mina's fingers slipped from the order slip. The bustling clatter of the kitchen faded into white noise as her eyes locked on him—on them.
She walked out from behind the counter.
Each step felt heavier than the last, but her face remained composed. Graceful, almost eerily calm.
She stopped just a step away from them.
"Seo Jiwook," she said, her voice soft—but sharp enough to cut glass.
The man stiffened, as if pulled from a dream. His eyes widened the moment he registered her face. "Mina…"
"Oh?" the younger woman blinked. "You know the waitress?"
Mina turned to her, her smile polite and razor-thin. "Waitress?" Her gaze flicked to Jiwook, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Funny. That's not what he calls me at home."
The girl's lips parted. "At home?" She glanced at Jiwook, confusion creeping into her eyes.
Jiwook took a breath. "Mina, I didn't—"
Mina held up a hand, stopping him cold.
"You know, I almost didn't recognize you." She glanced at the girl, then back to him. "It's been so long since you came to this 'tacky, small' place. Must've slipped your mind it's my workplace."
The air turned leaden.
Silence rippled out like a dropped stone in a still pond.
Behind the counter, the staff froze. Customers paused mid-bite. The chef peeked out.
Mina smiled again, this time with no warmth at all.
"You always hated the smell of garlic," she said, her voice deceptively soft as she looked at the girl still holding his arm. "Strange, isn't it? That he's here anyway."
Jiwook flinched.
The young woman laughed, though uneasily. "Jiwook, who is this?"
Mina didn't give him time to answer.
"I'm his wife," she said, eyes fixed on the girl. "At least until the divorce papers go through. Should be any day now. Unless"—her gaze slid to Jiwook—"you've been dragging your feet again."
The girl's face drained of color.
And Jiwook, so cool and polished in business meetings, looked like a man caught in a storm without an umbrella.
"Mina, a divorce? Ahem! Don't make a scene," he said in a low voice—the one he used when he didn't want to be embarrassed.
But she didn't flinch. Didn't look away.
"Yes, a divorce. And make a scene?" she echoed. "You bring your mistress to my workplace. You let her insult my staff. And you're worried I'll make a scene?"
Her voice remained calm, but each word landed like thunder.
The girl dropped his arm, taking a cautious step back.
"Soo-Ah—" Jiwook began, reaching for her.
Soo-Ah stepped back, just out of reach. "Don't. You don't get to act like we're still anything. You are a disgusting man—you had a wife all this time."
Her chest rose and fell as she added, "I'm leaving." With that, she turned and walked out of the diner.
"SOO-AH! I can explain! That woman—!" Jiwook reached after her, but Soo-Ah didn't look back.
"You know what the worst part is?" Mina added quietly. "I wasn't even going to tell your parents. I was going to let you save face. But now…" She let the words hang, dangerous and deliberate.
Jiwook paled as he turned to look at her.
Mina gave him one last look, then turned.
"Enjoy your meal," she said. "Although I don't think you'll be staying long."
And with that, she walked away—straight-backed and unbothered—as the staff and diners stared in stunned silence.
Jiwook hesitated for a moment, as if unsure what to do—then bolted after Soo-Ah, the door slamming behind him in his haste.
Mina watched him go, her expression unreadable. But inside, a bitter thought rose to the surface.
Of course. He didn't even try to explain himself. Didn't call my name. What a shameless man.
The quiet fury in her chest settled into something cold.
She turned on her heel and walked straight to the back office.
"Boss," she said softly.
He looked up, concern already in his eyes. "You alright?"
"Can I leave early tonight?"
There was a pause—then a slow nod. "Go. We've got it covered."
Mina bowed her head slightly in thanks, grabbed her coat, and stepped out into the cool night air.
She already knew about the affair. She'd caught him once—messages, a scarf that wasn't hers, the scent of perfume on his coat. But she hadn't said a word then. She had cried in silence, alone in the bathroom at 2 a.m., when he was "working late."
She thought she had nothing left to feel.
But now, seeing him with her—bringing that girl into her workplace, watching Soo-Ah sneer at her staff—Mina realized: she wasn't sad anymore.
She was done.
As she rounded the corner, voices drifted to her from the side alley next to the restaurant.
"I promise, Soo-Ah," Jiwook was saying, desperation leaking into his voice. "I'll divorce her. Then you can have me all to yourself. Just wait a little longer."
Mina stood still, just out of sight.
Soo-Ah scoffed. "I don't trust you, All this time you lied to me."
"I'm serious," he insisted. "She means nothing to me. It's always been you."
Mina's hands curled into fists inside her coat pockets.
Nothing, he said.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips—not bitter, not broken.
Just final.
She stepped away quietly, not needing to hear more.