case 02

chapter 17: a slice of perfect

There was a soft tinkle of a bell as Wendy stepped through the glass doors, moving from the concrete jungle of the central business district into a sky of pink, cotton candy clouds. Usually, there wasn’t a place too pink for Wendy Son – but this place was.

Wendy shifted past the aisles of rainbow macarons and tiered fondant cakes, into a sitting area swarmed with wannabe influencers posing exaggeratedly with their desserts. At the center of them all were three frowning men, as handsome as flowers but as jarring as bulls in a china shop. Even the usually fashionable, open-minded Yuta wrinkled his nose at the excessive placement of flowers and doilies.

“Did you choose this place?” Jungwoo said, with a scowl bigger than his face.

“Saying ‘hi’ would be nice,” Wendy snapped, sitting next to Seulgi, the least conspicuous of the lot. “And no, Rene-unnie told me to meet here, too.”

Jungwoo still sulked like he had eaten slugs, and Wendy honestly couldn’t be bothered to deal with his whining. She turned her attention to Johnny and Irene, who were chatting happily as they carried their trays of coffee and cakes.

“Oh, Wendy, you made it!” Irene beamed. Without missing a beat, Johnny pulled her chair for her, and Irene sat down gratefully.

Wendy returned her smile. “Of course. I’ve been wanting to try this place for weeks, Irene-unnie. You really have great taste.”

“Ugh, too sweet,” Jungwoo complained, nearly spitting out the forkful of strawberry shortcake. It was like having sweet treats would chip away at his manliness, which, to Wendy, was occasionally non-existent anyway.

Johnny shot a dark glare at him, and Jungwoo quickly quietened down. “Shut up. Don’t eat if you don’t want to.”

“Sorry,” Irene laughed, looking slightly apologetic. She absentmindedly rubbed her belly. “All I’ve been craving are sweet things.”

“Do you know the gender yet, Irene-noona?” Jaehyun asked. Seulgi patted a napkin on his lips, wiping away the remnants of the eclair he had just wolfed down.  

She shook her head. “Not yet. We’ll only find out at the fourth or fifth month. I’m still on my second.”

“Do you have a preference?” Yuta continued.

Irene and Johnny exchanged looks and broke into reciprocal smiles. “No,” Johnny said, caressing his wife affectionately, “as long as our baby comes out safe and healthy, I’ll buy you as many cakes as your heart desires, sweetie.”

Wendy stepped on Jungwoo’s foot before he could mock-gag and ruin the moment. Irene exuded a radiance that Wendy had never seen from her, and Johnny just seemed to feed off it, gleaming and glowing like the sun in the sky. Wendy took a bite of her shortcake, feeling the sweetness spread over her tongue, the endorphins sending tingles through her limbs.

Irene and Johnny were a little slice of perfect, and Wendy could swear she would probably never feel anything sweeter in her life, until, perhaps, one day, her moment would come along.

Watching the girl across her raise a mouthful of cake to her lips, Wendy felt a strange feeling nip at the corners of her heart. She had seen that scene before, with an ending she didn’t want to remember.

“This is really good!” Yeri said, eyes widening. She looked to Jaemin, who nodded his head encouragingly.

Wendy shook her thoughts away, fixating herself on the both of them – her work. “That’s great, but that’s also what you’ve said for the past ten cakes, Ms. Kim,” Wendy smiled.

“But they’re all so good!” Yeri sighed, cupping her face in her hands.

Wendy chuckled. The couple had been rather stiff and standoffish at the beginning of the appointment, but quickly gave in to the powers of wedding cake tasting. “You eventually have to choose. You can’t have ten different wedding cakes. Or, you can,” Wendy winked, “if that’s what you want.”

“Not at all a bad idea,” Yeri grinned. “Though, are you sure our parents don’t have to be here, Ms. Son?”

“Yes. The wedding is about the both of you, after all. Some decisions you guys can make by yourselves, and I can just inform your parents about it after.” Wendy gave them a reassuring look. “Leave the politicking to me. You two should focus on deciding on a cake you like.”

She pushed the next plate of cake to Yeri and Jaemin, who quickly tucked in. She watched them gaze at each other with bright, cheerful expressions, emanating a youthful glow. Jaemin squeezed Yeri’s shoulder, and Yeri gave him a shy smile. An image unwittingly flashed through Wendy’s mind, and she felt her heart tighten again.

Seulgi leaned against the ledge, eyes fixing on her feet and ears waiting for Johnny to start talking. Johnny had always been good with his words. He’d always used them to turn situations around. When he had missed a client deadline, when he had pulled a faulty argument in court, when he had overestimated his abilities and all his backup plans had fallen in the drain – putting on the glibbest smile he had, he would coax and cajole himself out of the spitfire, playing down his oversight and poor choices into specks of dust in the grand scheme of things. He would speak like there was something greater in play, even if there wasn’t.

Seulgi often saw through his ruse, mostly because she was usually in on it. She and Johnny worked like that – he was the talker, and she was the doer, and for the years that they had been partners-in-crime, or rather, crime prevention, it had worked out. Even if it didn’t, Johnny would always weed his way out, convincing her that he had it all under control, and that she was just being a worrywart.

But, there and then, he wasn’t doing that. He sat quietly at her desk, fiddling with a dried-up pen that she had forgotten on her shelf. He wasn’t even attempting to defend himself. Though, honestly, Seulgi wished he would.

“Johnny.” Seulgi made the first move before the silence could swallow her whole.

Johnny stirred. “I was meaning to tell you,” he murmured.

“No, you weren’t.”

The look in his eyes hardened. “Seulgi.”

It was like an emphasis on her name was sufficient an explanation for all his baffling decisions. But Seulgi wasn’t going to beat about the bush any longer. “What were you thinking?” she thundered. “Representing Victoria could put your whole career on the line. Why would you do it? What did she offer you?”

“Seulgi,” Johnny groaned, raking his hands through his hair, “you know Victoria’s not that kind of person.”

“I thought I knew. That was before she served Changmin divorce papers and made you write them. All completely out-of-the-blue, by the way. No explanation whatsoever,” Seulgi spat. “Tell me the truth. What’s really going on?”

Johnny sighed. There was no point continuing to play hide-and-seek with Seulgi. “Victoria approached me a few weeks back about representing her. I wanted to decline her at first, but then she expressed to me how lost she felt in her marriage. She doesn’t want anything from him, Seulgi – she just wants to go home and find herself.”

“And has she exhausted every option to try and find a middle ground with him?” Seulgi shot back. “You’ve known that Changmin has been trying to start relationship therapy sessions with Jungwoo.”

“Seulgi, it’s not our job to make sure they’ve exhausted every last option before they decide to get a divorce–“

“No, but it is our job to advise them of the alternative options. We shouldn’t take cases where people call for a divorce in the spur of the moment, hinged completely on emotions. You don’t even fully know her stance.”

“I do.”

“Do you?” Seulgi challenged. “And how do you know?”

“I know because…” Johnny exhaled and closed his eyes. “The way she said it… It was the same way Irene did, five years ago.”

Seulgi held her breath. It was an answer that shouldn’t have made sense, but it somehow did. Johnny looked broken and tired, with lines running across his face. He looked like he had jumped through the seven rings of hell. He may as well have, if doing that could even take away his pain.

Seulgi stepped towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Johnny,” she said slowly, “it’s not the same thing. You don’t know what’s going on, and for your own good, you definitely shou