Touch Therapy: Where Hands Go, Bodies Beg

The sound of the apartment door opening drew Joon-ho and Harin's attention from the dining table. Madam Seo stepped in, a sharp blazer draped over her shoulders and both arms loaded with large takeout bags that gave off the mouthwatering smell of fried chicken. A six-pack of beer cans clinked together in one of the bags.

"Surprise," she announced, slipping off her shoes neatly by the entryway. "I figured you two just got back to Seoul and probably didn't have anything decent to eat. Fried chicken and beer solve everything."

Harin was already on her feet, hurrying over to take the bags from her. "Unnie, you didn't have to! We already had food."

Madam Seo raised an eyebrow, shrugging out of her blazer. "Really? I thought for sure you'd just collapse on the bed and forget dinner. Looks like I underestimated you."

Joon-ho stood too, taking the heavier bags from her hands. "You didn't underestimate us. You just gave us a bonus." He set them on the table, grinning. "And you're not leaving with these—you're joining us."

Da-eun, who had been quietly sitting near her mother, quickly hopped up to pull out another chair. Hye-sook went to fetch an extra set of bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen, her motions practiced and quick.

"Fine, fine," Madam Seo laughed as she folded her blazer over the back of the chair. "I won't argue. My stomach's been growling all the way here anyway." She slid into her seat, her posture relaxing once she was settled.

"Let me introduce everyone properly," Joon-ho said, settling back into his own chair. He gestured first to the woman standing in the kitchen doorway. "This is Shin Hye-sook—she helps me keep the clinic and apartment in order. And that's her daughter, Da-eun."

Hye-sook gave a polite bow. "Nice to meet you."

Da-eun followed, bowing quickly with a shy smile. "Hello."

"Madam Seo," she replied warmly, returning the bow with a nod. "You're both family here, aren't you? Anyone who feeds Joon-ho and keeps him alive deserves my respect."

That broke the ice. Da-eun giggled softly, and Hye-sook's lips curved in a small smile as she returned to the kitchen. Harin began unpacking the takeout onto the table—golden pieces of fried chicken, dipping sauces, and the chilled cans of beer that hissed when opened.

The first bites were noisy, greasy, and full of laughter. Madam Seo reached for a piece of chicken and glanced toward the side dishes already on the table. "Mmm, whose cooking is this?"

"Hye-sook's," Joon-ho answered between chews.

"No wonder," Madam Seo said, biting into the chicken with a pleased groan. "Homemade food always has that extra taste you can't fake. I've been eating catered crap at the office for weeks—this feels like a real dinner."

Harin leaned across the table with a grin. "Careful, unnie, if you praise her cooking too much she'll spoil you and you won't want to leave."

"Don't tempt me," Madam Seo replied, raising her beer can for a mock toast. "To being spoiled by good food."

They clinked cans and dug in. Madam Seo asked Da-eun about her school, and though the girl was timid at first, Harin's gentle nudging coaxed her into talking about exams and late-night study sessions. Hye-sook stayed mostly quiet, her eyes warm as she watched her daughter's shy smile grow brighter.

The blend of fried chicken grease, home-cooked rice, and beer filled the apartment with warmth. Laughter spilled between stories—Harin teasing Madam Seo about her work habits, Madam Seo rolling her eyes and complaining about office politics, Da-eun sharing little anecdotes from her cram school.

When the last bones were cleared and the beers half-finished, Hye-sook rose automatically. "I'll take care of the cleanup."

"Mom, I'll help," Da-eun said quickly, gathering plates before her mother could stop her. Together, the two moved into the kitchen, their chatter and clinking of dishes fading into the background.

Madam Seo leaned back with a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms over her head. "That hit the spot. I didn't realize how much I needed this until now."

Not long after, the kitchen lights clicked off. Hye-sook and Da-eun emerged with jackets in hand, ready to head home. "We should get going," Hye-sook said. "Thank you for the meal."

"You're the one who cooked," Harin replied with a smile. "Let me walk you down, unnie will keep Joon-ho company."

The four women exchanged polite goodbyes before Harin slipped on her shoes and followed Hye-sook and Da-eun out, leaving Joon-ho and Madam Seo alone together in the quiet apartment.

The apartment felt quieter after Hye-sook and Da-eun left. The scent of fried chicken still lingered in the air, mixed with the faint detergent smell from the freshly cleaned kitchen.

Madam Seo claimed the sofa with casual ownership, tossing herself down and cracking open one of the leftover beer cans. The fizz echoed as she tilted it back for a long swallow. "Ahhh, that's better," she exhaled, leaning into the cushions.

Joon-ho joined her, settling at her side, his own can hissing open. "You came all this way with food. Tell me, what's the real reason you're here? Something bothering you?"

She scoffed softly, crossing one leg over the other. "Don't start with that tone. If I stopped every time a problem knocked on my door, I'd have died ten years ago. Problems don't bother finding me—I attract them."

He didn't push, only took a sip, watching the way her lips twisted into that bitter smile he knew too well. He stayed quiet, patient. And just like he expected, she started talking anyway.

"My husband's been crowing like a rooster these past few weeks," Madam Seo said, her voice low, laced with scorn. "His precious crypto trading app is apparently exploding in popularity. Deposits, user fees, referral schemes—the works. He paraded the numbers in front of me like I should clap for him." She rolled her eyes and drank again. "And now? He's in the Maldives, sunning his bloated ego with a flock of secretaries young enough to be his daughters."

Joon-ho made no comment, only drank, letting her release the steam.

She continued, "He thinks he's a genius businessman. In reality, he's outsourced the brains. Hired some overseas advisory outfit in Singapore—Arrowpoint Capital. Promises of high returns, big asset management. I'd bet my last won he hasn't done a shred of due diligence. Just nodded like a fool because someone waved charts in his face."

Her laugh was sharp, bitter. "He'll either get scammed or watch everything he dumped in vanish. And when that happens? He'll cry about betrayal while sipping his cocktails."

The apartment door clicked open then, and Harin came back from sending off Hye-sook and Da-eun. She spotted the two on the sofa, each with a beer, and immediately grabbed one herself from the table. Popping the tab, she plopped down on Madam Seo's other side with a grin.

"Unnie," Harin said, raising her can in greeting, "you sound exactly like the gossip headlines. But knowing your husband, I believe every word." She sipped, then shook her head with a laugh. "I worked in his building, remember? All the good people left ages ago. Now it's just slackers clinging to a sinking ship."

Madam Seo snorted. "Exactly."

Harin tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "But unnie—your assets? You're safe from whatever stunt he's pulling, right?"

A sly smile tugged at Madam Seo's lips. "Oh, I'm no fool, Harin. My assets are locked tight, completely separate. On paper, we've had it arranged for years—if anything happens, I'm untouched. He can't demand a thing. And if he goes under, I've got grounds to divorce without losing a single won."

Harin grinned wide, lifting her can high. "To unnie's brains and foresight. May your idiot husband choke on his crypto coins."

That drew laughter from both women. Joon-ho clinked his can against theirs silently, letting them celebrate the small victories. The three drank together, the bitterness softening into warmth as the cans piled up.

At some point, Madam Seo leaned back, pressing her temple with a delicate wince. "Ugh. Too much too fast. My head's pounding."

Joon-ho set his half-empty can aside. "You okay?"

"Nothing serious," she murmured, eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into the sofa. "Just… haven't slept much these past few days. Busy, distracted. My body's demanding payback."

He studied her for a moment, the tired lines under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. "You want me to work on it? A massage might help."

Her lips curved faintly, too drained to smirk. "Mmm. That actually sounds perfect. Let me have at least one good massage tonight, and maybe I'll forgive this damn week."

Joon-ho chuckled, already rising. "Then relax. I'll take care of it."

Madam Seo leaned back, letting her body sink into the cushions, eyes closing as she surrendered herself to his hands. Harin shot Joon-ho a sideways grin, clearly amused.

The night had shifted tone—away from laughter and banter, into something slower, lighter. The air in the room thickened with a different kind of anticipation.