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7. I Loved You
For the first time—and most likely the last—we had what could be called a husband-and-wife quarrel. Could it really be called that? Simply placing the word “married” before “couple” somehow gave the two of us an affectionate, lovey-dovey feeling that did not suit us at all.
It had been a very long time since I had been so furious that I could barely see straight. Only after some time had passed and I had calmed down did I find it strange that I had become so worked up, and belated embarrassment came surging over me.
The atmosphere and circumstances surrounding the two of us had been serious enough to create a sense of imminent crisis, but when I looked back on our conversation, I wondered if it had not been a rather childish argument.
Like an adolescent in the throes of storm and stress who had fought with her parents and run away from home, she had cut off all conversation with him, repeating only that he should not interfere and that it was none of his business. He, like a stubborn father, had shouted at her with his eyes bulging, asking where she thought she was going, then repeatedly tried to soothe her while sweating bullets.
A pubescent daughter and her father, of all things. Seonha gave a faint smile at the absurd analogy she had come up with herself, then stood before Professor Ahn Munhyeong’s office and quietly knocked.
“Yes. Come in.”
At the calm, low-pitched voice, Seonha entered. The heater was on inside, and although the air was a little dry, it held a warmth quite different from the air outside. The room had not changed much since before graduation, but now that she and Dowook had fallen completely out, she could not feel at ease in a place where his uncle was.
“Professor.”
Seonha greeted him with a clear smile she had forced onto her face, hiding her discomfort.
“Oh, Seonha. Am I still ‘Professor’ to you?”
“Pardon?”
“We’ve been family for quite some time now. Why are you still calling me that?”
At Professor Ahn’s words, Seonha flinched inwardly.
She had been tense the entire way there because Professor Ahn had suddenly contacted her to ask that they meet less than a week after she had left the house where she lived with Dowook. The timing was so perfect that she had suspected he might have realized what was happening between them.
Yet the unhurried way he rose from his chair to greet his guest, and the relaxed motion with which he adjusted his glasses, were the same as always. Judging from what he had said to her, he did not seem to know anything about their situation.
Then again, when she thought about it, Dowook—who wanted to renew their contract—probably had not yet told other people that he was going to break up with her. “He doesn’t seem to know yet. Should I lie?”
She had no intention of arranging the legal paperwork until the time Dowook wanted. Since he was not an ordinary person, matters of marriage and divorce could not be handled easily either.
But she could not decide whether she ought to tell the truth to Professor Ahn, who had cared for Dowook like another parent during his childhood, when he had been sent away to his mother’s family and his birth mother had not even properly looked after him. Now that Chairman Choi had passed away, he was practically Dowook’s only family.
It would have been nice to ask Dowook and confirm things with him, but since the day she had left the house, the two of them had not met, nor had they exchanged even a single message.
Even now, thinking about how she had poured out her anger at him as though something inside her had snapped, then fled as if running away, made her feel embarrassed. But the fact that the man had gone so far as to do something utterly unreasonable—thwarting the house contract she had been trying to make—and still had not contacted her honestly bothered her.
What kind of mentality was it that made her feel strange simply because he had not contacted her, even though she would not change her mind just because he continued to be stubborn?
Perhaps when the man who had always shown her only his back had suddenly changed course, lavishing attention on her and pestering her, she had been secretly pleased despite appearing troubled on the outside. How foolish. It was not as if he had held on to her and asked her to try love with him.
“Let’s sit down first.”
She had hurried over at Professor Ahn’s summons, but it was only after arriving at the building that she realized she had come empty-handed. It had been quite a while since she had visited him separately, but she had been so preoccupied with what he wanted to say that she had not thought to bring anything. She had hurriedly bought a set of health drinks from the convenience store before coming upstairs, but when she saw a box of drinks from the exact same brand on the table, she felt too embarrassed to offer hers as a gift.
“I’m sorry. I was so distracted that this was all I could…”
Seonha trailed off as she placed the box of drinks on the table. At the sight, the corners of Professor Ahn’s wrinkled mouth stretched bitterly.
“We’re not strangers. It would be stranger if you brought something every time.”
Seonha briefly surveyed the office, which seemed cluttered yet somehow orderly, and recalled the day she had overheard a conversation between Professor Ahn and Dowook.
She had come to retrieve an umbrella she had left behind, but when her eyes met Dowook’s through the gap in the door, she had been so startled that she had rushed out empty-handed. She had stopped by the office again the next day, but the assistant who had been there had shaken her head and said he had not seen her umbrella.
Lost in the brief memory, Seonha met Professor Ahn’s eyes as he gazed at her with a somewhat serious expression. She firmly closed her lips, which had parted slightly. She had thought he would not know what was happening… but was that not the case? He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, as though he were about to say something important.
“Seonha.”
“Yes?”
“It’s been more than a month since Chairman Choi passed away. What are you planning to do about Dowook?”
Seonha’s pupils stiffened.
No way…
“W-what do you mean…?”
“I know that the two of you had a contract marriage, so you can speak comfortably.”
He knew not only that they were going to divorce, but even about their contract marriage. Since when? Had Dowook already told Professor Ahn? Her head filled with questions, and Seonha could not answer. Professor Ahn spoke again.
“I heard it from the chairman.”
Seonha was so shocked that her vision seemed to turn white.
“When I first heard that the two of you were getting married, I was happier than I was suspicious. As you know, Dowook is so particular and stubborn that he hardly seemed capable of even dating a woman, let alone getting married. So when he suddenly said he was taking a student I cherished as his bride… Even if you hadn’t known each other long, there are moments between a man and a woman when a single instant of deep understanding can bring them closer than years of acquaintance. I thought you suited each other, and I hoped you would live well.”
Seonha lowered her head toward the floor, unable to bring herself to look at Professor Ahn. She did not have the courage to raise her face.
Both Chairman Choi and Professor Ahn had known everything about their contract marriage. They had known, yet pretended not to.
How repulsive must she have seemed, deceiving the adults so casually?
“About a year ago, the chairman came to see me himself. He asked if I knew about the contract. That was when I learned the truth.”
“…”
“I’m sorry, Professor.”
“I didn’t call you here to receive an apology. Of course, I was surprised. I was disappointed, too, to learn that your relationship had been founded on a contract. But I understand. I understand both Dowook’s circumstances and yours. The chairman wasn’t angry, so don’t worry too much. In fact, he said that… he had suspected something to a certain extent.”
As the people who had acted as Dowook’s guardians when he had no proper parents, Chairman Choi and Professor Ahn had kept in touch from time to time, though not often. After Dowook became an adult, they rarely had reason to meet, but when Chairman Choi suddenly came to visit, Professor Ahn learned the secret the two of them had been keeping.
When he saw part of the contract that Cheongyang-daek had happened to discover at the couple’s house and secretly photographed, a sigh escaped him.
It was a contract with the all-too-obvious purpose of having them divorce within thirty days of Chairman Choi’s death. He could understand Dowook’s feelings—Dowook could not have an ordinary marriage—but he worried about the sense of betrayal and shock Chairman Choi must have felt upon realizing he had been deceived so completely.
Contrary to his expectations, however, Chairman Choi faced the situation more calmly than Professor Ahn did. Though he had not raised his grandson with great care, Dowook was the only grandson he had kept close, and he knew the boy well. He had suspected something from the moment Dowook brought home a prospective bride who seemed to have dropped from the sky one day.
But he said that Seonha’s sincere and devoted care over the course of two years had begun to confuse him. She was not a child with any talent for deceiving others, so the affection in her expressions and actions toward Dowook must have been impossible to hide.
“He cherished you very much. How could he not, when you visited him practically every day and took care of him so that he wouldn’t feel lonely? I think you were a great source of strength to him. Sometimes he would feel hurt by Dowook’s indifference, but you were always there to ease his heart.”
Once Dowook gave up on someone, that was the end of it. He had never fully accepted his grandfather, who had pretended not to see when Dowook’s father sent him away to his mother’s family. Nor did he expect anything more from his maternal uncle, who had cared for him until he briefly neglected him because of the child he had with his wife.
It was not that he could not let go of simple emotions like betrayal or hurt toward them. He had learned that he could be abandoned again at any time, and so he became unable to trust anyone. It was little more than the survival instinct of a child covered in wounds. Convinced that he could never receive perfect love from anywhere, he neither sought nor desired such feelings from anyone afterward.
Chairman Choi knew what Dowook was thinking, too. As one of the adults who had hurt him, he had always felt sorry for him and pitied him, but he was human and sometimes grew tired or frustrated. Whenever that happened, Seonha was the one who comforted him.
That child who gazed warmly at his grandson, who seemed destined never to let anyone come close until the day he died. The mere knowledge that there was someone who cared so deeply for Dowook made Chairman Choi feel as though he could leave this world in peace.
Perhaps that was why. Even after learning that the two of them had made a contract and married while deceiving him, he did not grow angry. He had only hoped to live one day longer, if only by one day, so that the two of them could face each other sincerely and become a true married couple.
“So I hope you won’t feel too guilty.”
As she listened to Professor Ahn, the tears that had been trembling at the corners of Seonha’s eyes finally fell.
“I’m sorry. I… Dowook and I…”
The tears clogging her throat prevented her voice from coming out properly.
“He said that even if, after he passed away, the two of you ultimately chose divorce, it couldn’t be helped. That child… isn’t ice that can easily be broken. We spent all those years trying and still failed, so how could we blame you for not opening his heart? He said you had done your very best, and that even if you eventually parted ways with Dowook, he hoped you would be happy.”
“…”
“Professor.”
“I feel the same way. You were a student I cherished long before fate brought you together with Dowook. Whatever choice you make, live for your own sake.”
When Professor Ahn learned that Seonha, who seemed to have grown up studying without hardship in a harmonious and affluent home, had actually lived an extremely difficult life, his first thought had not been pity, but admiration for how remarkable she was.
She was a child who could smile like sunlight despite carrying deep wounds. There seemed to be people who, after hearing her circumstances later, cursed her as devious and complained that they felt cheated, but she was simply strong. She was the complete opposite of Dowook, who went through life with his thorns raised.
Professor Ahn had hoped that perhaps Seonha could change Dowook. But looking at her sobbing so miserably, he saw that Dowook’s heart truly seemed impossible to break with anything. He regretted that Chairman Choi’s final wish could not come true, but he could not bring himself to tell her, who appeared already exhausted, to try harder.
*After meeting Professor Ahn, Seonha entered the hotel bar that evening, late in the day.
Though she did not even properly know the taste of alcohol, she had come down to the bar near her room because of an impulse to get drunk. She had thought it would be better than looking for a bar outside, since even if she became drunk, she could easily return to her room alone by taking the elevator. But it was only after sitting down that she wondered whether she belonged in a place like this.
“Still, whether at the pojangmacha I went to three years ago or here, the fact that I’m alone hasn’t changed.”
Sitting on a stool, Seonha ordered a cocktail from the bartender and bitterly scoffed at herself beneath the dim lights.
After learning that her house contract had been canceled because of Dowook’s interference, she still could not bring herself to look for another place. Partly because she feared he might interfere again, but once her mind had cleared a little, she also realized that she had made the decision far too hastily.
Contrary to her expectations, he kept trying to hold on to her, leaving her flustered and shaken in equal measure—even though she knew the only reason he wanted to keep her was sex. She hated herself for still being unable to put her feelings in order, and felt she needed to leave that house as soon as possible. With time running short, escaping from him had seemed the most urgent thing, so she had practically barged into the first house she came across.
Seonha shook off her darkening thoughts and looked around. Countless whisky glasses, seeming to float above the bar counter, glittered and created a dreamlike atmosphere. As she quietly took in the sparkling bar interior, she remembered meeting Professor Ahn.
“How about continuing your studies?”
That had been his reply when she told him, in response to his asking about her future plans, that she wanted to find a job as soon as possible if she could.
“Seonha, you don’t have to struggle so desperately to live as you did before. I sincerely hope you’ll be able to live a little more comfortably. That’s why the chairman kept silent about the contract until the very end. He truly considered you his granddaughter-in-law. You don’t need to rush into a decision. It might be nice to travel for a while and clear your head. You’ve worked hard enough all this time, so I hope you’ll take things a little easier now and look back on your life.”
She had never had a passionate dream, brimming with enthusiasm, of wanting to become something, but as Professor Ahn had said, she did like studying quite a lot. She had even envied the classmates who planned to attend graduate school after graduation. But since even going to university had been an indulgence for her, finding a job had taken priority, and that brief longing had ended there.
Was it really all right for her to do those things? Study. Travel. Take her time.
They were things that had never suited the person she had been.
Still, after hearing Professor Ahn’s words, she had felt much more at ease. Guilt over deceiving Chairman Choi had sat on her chest like a weight and refused to disappear, but once she realized the sincerity behind Chairman Choi’s final words—his eyes telling her that everything was all right—she kept feeling as though tears might burst from her eyes.
Because Chairman Choi had filled the guilt she thought would never disappear with an even greater sense of gratitude.
“Hey, hey, somebody stop her. She’s going to drink all of that and die. Seriously.”
She had been lost in thought when a commotion broke out inside a table enclosed by a thin partition at the end of the bar. The voice sounded strangely familiar, and Seonha’s ears turned toward it before she knew it. There were few customers, and the atmosphere was quiet, so she could hear the conversation quite clearly.
“Let go! I said I’m going to drink, so why are you stopping me? I can’t stand it when I’m sober. It’s too hard!”
“Eunseo.”
“Why the hell is that bastard Kang Gyeongmin still not here? I guess he’s too busy with some other woman again, so he can’t even hear his own wife calling him. That bastard.”
“Senior’s on his way after finishing work. Just wait a little longer, Eunseo. Okay?”
“What work? I know perfectly well he left on time. Tell him not to give me that crap.”
At the familiar names, Seonha’s hand tightened around her cocktail glass.
She couldn’t see the faces of the women gathered around the table, but she knew exactly who was sitting there. The trio who had been so twisted with jealousy when the news of Seonha and Doyuk’s marriage broke that they had come all the way to the school together to torment her.
She had vaguely known that her classmate Eunseo had secretly liked Gyeongmin. She had also heard that, though she didn’t know the details, Eunseo’s family was wealthy enough to satisfy Gyeongmin’s greedy mother.
They had married around the same time as Seonha, so they had been husband and wife for about three years now. It seemed that this couple, whose marriage had taken place not long after the other, had its fair share of troubles as well. Seonha had already sensed, from the moment Gyeongmin had contacted her before his wedding, that the couple would spend their lives constantly grinding against each other.
“In just three years, I’ve already caught him with five women. There’s a limit to how much he can disregard me. You know what makes me even angrier? I was so humiliated that I couldn’t even tell you until now, but… every woman Kang Gyeongmin cheated with looked like that bitch. Haah, that fox of a woman.”
“You don’t mean Yoo Seonha, do you?”
Seonha set down the cocktail glass, of which she had yet to drink even half.
Ah… Why had she overlooked it? She was a person with bizarrely terrible luck.
“That bastard sometimes calls out Yoo Seonha’s name when he’s holding me, too… How miserable do you think that makes me feel? I even want to die.”
Eunseo seemed to have completely lost herself to the alcohol. With breathless sobs, she poured out her fury at her husband. Her friends sighed over Gyeongmin’s atrocities.
Seonha carefully picked up the handbag she had set beside her. Whatever else happened, she absolutely had to ban herself from ever coming to drink alone again. Three years ago, meeting Doyuk had abruptly twisted her life in an utterly unexpected direction. Today, if she wasn’t careful, she might end up having her hair grabbed despite having done nothing wrong.
“Do you know what he says to me every time he comes home completely drunk? He says I’m the only one he has. That even though he’s been with plenty of women, I’m the only one he ever truly loved. He says men can never forget their first love and tells me to understand.”
“Seriously, why is Senior Gyeongmin so awful? He’s really too much. Eunseo, wouldn’t it be better to stop now?”
“Hey, Eunseo still likes him a lot. How could she break up with him? Senior’s bad enough, but Yoo Seonha is the real problem. She acts innocent, pretending she doesn’t know anything, but how much of a fox must she have been for Senior to still be unable to forget her even after leaving you? She must have had a wild time with men after him. Even while she was dating Senior, she probably used all the skills she’d built up and acted filthy every night…”
“He says she didn’t. Not even once.”
“What? Didn’t they date for about a year? There’s no way Senior would…”
“That’s what Kang Gyeongmin said. He said that before dating Seonha, he only saw women for sex, but with her, it was the first time he’d ever felt that way. He said he was happy just looking at her without having sex. That merely holding hands with her made his whole body tremble with pleasure. She was the first woman he’d ever wanted to live with. That must be why he made such a huge scene with his mother before graduation, saying he would marry Yoo Seonha. Why did I have to fall for a bastard like him? Why…”
Seonha quickened her pace. Their voices were so loud, but more than that, she felt uneasy, as though she were eavesdropping on something she shouldn’t hear. What Gyeongmin had supposedly said to his wife, Eunseo, was even more horrifying.
What a shameless imitation of a devoted love story. Anyone hearing it would think that she and he had shared some tragic, one-of-a-kind love.
Gyeongmin’s claim that he couldn’t forget her wasn’t sincere. Even if it was, he was merely playing at being hurt and tormented because he couldn’t forget his first love, all while, as a married man, having a wild time with other women.
“Seonha?”
As Seonha quietly left the bar, she ended up meeting the one man she absolutely should not have encountered at the entrance. At this point, she was almost convinced that God was toying with her.
“Seonha…!”
Gyeongmin had come to the hotel to fetch his wife because of her incessantly ringing phone. His face had been full of annoyance, but the instant he saw Seonha, it brightened. The moment he saw his former lover, Gyeongmin focused entirely on her, forgetting even why he had come.
“It’s been, it’s been such a long time. Right? Have you… been well?”
At his wistfully trembling voice, Seonha was dumbfounded.
“Didn’t you come here because you had plans?”
“Huh? No. It’s fine. It wasn’t an important appointment anyway. It’s amazing and nice that we ran into each other like this, so… Would you like to go out and have a drink with me?”
Watching Gyeongmin shamelessly make his move on her at once, Seonha heard Eunseo’s sorrowful sobs overlapping in her mind.
She didn’t have any particular fondness for Eunseo or the other two women, but she still felt uncomfortable, because she could understand at least a little of Eunseo’s wounded heart. After all, Seonha herself had spent three years with a man who had never loved her in the end, only to bring it all to a close.
Even being ignored by the man she loved had caused a pain so severe it felt as though one side of her heart had been torn away. And Gyeongmin had gone so far as to cheat on his wife without a trace of shame. Seonha couldn’t help but imagine how much Eunseo must be suffering.
“Have you forgotten everything that happened before, or were you always this shameless?”
“Seonha.”
“Since you seem unable to remember, I’ll tell you. We aren’t on terms where we can casually greet each other and smile like this.”
Her sharp reply should have offended or embarrassed him, but Gyeongmin remained unfazed.
“Curse me, hit me, do whatever you want. I’ll listen to every insult and take every blow. But afterward, let’s resolve everything that happened between us. Running into each other like this by chance—I can only think of it as fate. Seonha, I guess I finally understand that you were my only fate.”
“Senior.”
She stared at him with a thoroughly disgusted expression. Could he really behave like this even knowing that his own wife was somewhere inside, cursing him and sobbing so bitterly that she was shaking the quiet bar?
“We were both young back then. I admit I was immature and reckless. Whenever I think of those days, there’s nothing but things I regret. What I regret most is…”
“Honey.”
Gyeongmin’s desperate excuses, aimed at Seonha, were abruptly cut off.
At the sight of the man approaching with firm yet restrained steps, Seonha and Gyeongmin both flinched, though for entirely different reasons.
“I couldn’t find you in the room, so I came looking. You haven’t been drinking too much, have you?”
That uniquely oppressive aura of his, which could never be erased no matter where he was, made Gyeongmin look flustered as he repeatedly cleared his throat.
Even a man shameless enough to openly cheat on his wife must have been unable to remain composed when the husband of the woman he had been trying to seduce appeared right in front of him. Even more so when that man was none other than Choi Doyuk.
“…
Mr. Doyuk.”
“Someone you know?”
Doyuk slipped an arm around Seonha’s waist and asked, gesturing toward Gyeongmin with his eyes. His posture was natural, like that of a deeply loving husband, while his wariness toward the man standing beside his wife in such a peculiar atmosphere was unmistakable. But Seonha did not waver. She had already had three years to adapt. They were such an accomplished show-window couple that even a few photographs in an article were enough to earn them praise as the perfect married couple.
Even in hastily taken photographs, they had acted flawlessly at public events, displaying enough affection toward each other to convince everyone watching. Just as he was accustomed to it, so was she. Seonha pressed herself intimately against the man drawing her closer by the waist.
“He’s just a senior from school. Honey, I drank a little… I want to go upstairs right away.”
She was still uncomfortable with Doyuk, but no matter how much she disliked him, he was nothing compared to that shameless Kang Gyeongmin. She was choosing the man she disliked less in order to get rid of the man she hated more.
If she remained trapped there, she might truly end up running into Eunseo as well, and that was what worried her most. She knew too well how that trio operated, always insisting that everything was ultimately Yoo Seonha’s fault. She had to avoid them—not because she was afraid, but because they were disgusting.
“Feeling dizzy? Let’s go.”
Doyuk draped an arm protectively around Seonha’s shoulders and led her toward the elevator. He seemed to disregard Gyeongmin’s existence completely, yet the chilly glance that brushed over him carried a murderous warning: Don’t lay a hand on what’s mine.
Gyeongmin’s back prickled beneath Doyuk’s icy gaze. Only belatedly embarrassed at having been subdued by a mere look, he once again let out a meaningless cough.
“I told you to wait for me because if you drink alone, filthy, dangerous pieces of trash that ought to be disposed of will latch onto you.”
“…
I suppose you did.”
“Now let’s go upstairs and have a drink, just the two of us.”
When Doyuk whispered the words intimately into Seonha’s ear, her face flushed slightly. Gyeongmin stared blankly at the couple’s sparklingly affectionate display before grinding his teeth.
He was furious at being treated like trash that ought to be disposed of, but more than anything, Gyeongmin had never seen Seonha so completely relaxed in the past. She had been hurt by people often since childhood, and even though she seemed to get along well with those around her, she had never been the type to open her heart easily.
Of course, the two of them were a married couple, so it was only natural. But Gyeongmin had believed, just as people around him said, that Seonha had married for money without love. Yet what he was seeing before his eyes now was almost as if…
“Hey, Kang Gyeongmin!”
Under the forceful blows raining down on his back as though they might split it in two, Gyeongmin barely managed to swallow the scream that was about to burst from him. Though the backs of the perfectly matched couple—so well suited they were humiliating to look at—had already grown fairly distant, making a scene by shouting would surely bring disgrace upon him. His first love and her husband had not yet disappeared from sight, and he could not show himself in such an ugly state.
Keeping his voice low, he tried to soothe his enraged wife.
“Eunseo, y-you’re pretty drunk, huh?”
“Pretty drunk? Do you know who I drank because of?”
“L-let’s keep our voices down. There are people around. Okay?”
“Are you embarrassed by me? You’re embarrassed because I’m a little drunk, you bastard who goes around doing the dirtiest, most humiliating things in the world? When you were rolling around in hotels with other women even though you had a wife, weren’t you embarrassed of yourself?”
Clutching the stud-covered shoulder bag that was practically a weapon, she now began to beat him in earnest. Wearing high heels, Eunseo could barely stand upright and kept staggering. Judging by the sidelong glances her friends were shooting him, it seemed they had once again spent the evening drinking heavily with him as their topic of conversation.
“Huh? Those two over there…”
One of the trio who had met Dook at a matchmaking meeting in the past was the first to notice them. When she unconsciously pointed with her fingertip at Dook and Seonha’s affectionate figures as they boarded the elevator at the end of the hall, everyone’s gaze turned in that direction.
Dook and Seonha also seemed to cast a brief glance toward the commotion before the elevator doors closed. Once at Eunseo, who was beating Gyeongmin while in a state of intoxication just short of blacking out, and once at Gyeongmin, who had ultimately been grabbed by the hair by his wife.
“Aaagh!”
After the elevator doors closed with excruciating slowness, Gyeongmin held back the curses he wanted to hurl, his face red as a roasted sweet potato. His first love was still beautiful enough to belong in a painting, and his drunken wife’s hand had stung badly enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“Let go of my hand now.”
As soon as the elevator carrying only the two of them began its descent, Seonha called an end to the truce and spoke while turning away from him. Dook bitterly pulled up one corner of his mouth, then released the arm that had been wrapped around her shoulders.
“…”
“Thank you for helping me.”
“Who was that man?”
His voice was as indifferent as usual, but Seonha, staring straight ahead, caught sight of his angry eyes reflected in the elevator doors, and her heart lurched. For a moment, he looked like a man consumed by jealousy.
But she soon let out a hollow laugh. Having endlessly alternated between hope and disappointment over each and every one of his reactions, she knew all too well that this, too, was merely her own pathetic delusion. When people fall for someone, they tend to attach great significance to things that mean nothing and deceive themselves.
“No matter how I look at it, he didn’t seem to be just a senior from school.”
For some reason, she found it irritating that he was asking even though he seemed to have already figured out what their relationship was. The moment the elevator doors opened, Seonha broke the silence she had stubbornly maintained.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
She stepped out first. Walking behind her, Dook clenched his innocent fists. The face of the bastard who had looked at Seonha with a greasy smile was etched vividly into his mind. As something hot surged up from his chest, his eyes twisted.
What is this?
“So that kind of guy is your type? Yu Seonha, you have pretty unusual tastes.”
In the end, unable to suppress the turmoil in his heart, Dook blurted out words he would soon regret.
“Yes. I have unusual tastes.”
Seonha responded calmly without taking offense at his provocation. She stopped in front of the door and stared directly at his face.
“I really have no eye for people, do I? If it had happened just once, you could say it was a mistake. But it wasn’t. I can see that now.”
“What?”
“You have to admit what needs admitting, cleanly. That man is a complete loser.”
Dook’s eyebrows shot up. He felt as though he had just been openly insulted right to his face. But what irritated him even more was Seonha’s tone and expression. Had she always been a woman who spoke so bluntly?
The last time, he had understood her aggressive response as anger over something he had done wrong. But now, even though she was not agitated in the slightest, her manner was stiff in the extreme, as if she were dealing with an enemy.
Objectively speaking, it was a little excessive to describe her tone as stiff. But Dook knew how soft and kind her voice usually was, and so that was how it felt to him. Her voice was calm yet dry, and the lips that normally held a faint smile were pressed into a straight line. The sight was utterly unfamiliar.
“Come in. I’ll trust that you won’t do what you did that day.”
Seonha opened the room door and shot him a sidelong glance. Dook followed behind her, trudging into the room.
“Isn’t it too small?”
He asked in a displeased tone as he looked around the standard room, small enough to take in at a glance.
“I can have them move you to a suite—”
Seonha, who had been draping the muffler over one arm onto a chair beside the floor-to-ceiling window, quietly stabbed him with her eyes. The atmosphere suggested she would throw him out if he did not shut his mouth. Ah, the more he spoke, the more points he was losing. Frustrated, Dook roughly swept his bangs back.
“I only said it because I thought it might be uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable at all, so don’t worry about it.”
“Not uncomfortable at all? Even though you left a comfortable home to stay in a hotel?”
His eyes narrowed sharply.
He had been extremely uncomfortable while she was gone. No, it was more than discomfort. Every time he came home from work, the silence of the empty space—so complete he could hear a pin drop—aggravated him and left him on edge.
He had been worn down by an excessive workload for years, and even under those circumstances he never skipped the intense exercise that had become a habit. Normally, he could fall asleep the instant he laid his head down, whether on the bed or the sofa. But from the day she left, falling asleep had not been easy. Since he did not even know how to cook for himself, there was no reason to prepare meals at home either.
Without her, the house had become nothing more or less than a place where he washed, rested for a little while, and then left again for work.
The reason he had only come now, despite knowing she was staying here, was that he had hoped the anger that had driven her to leave without looking back would settle quietly over time. Nothing could have been more counterproductive than hovering in front of someone so angry that they could not even stand the sight of your shadow.
But he had reached the limit of his patience.
Knowing where she was and still being unable to go to her had been close to torture. She was no ordinary stubborn woman, so even if he could not obtain the result he wanted today, he wanted at least to clear away the resentment from that day. Then perhaps he could sleep with a somewhat lighter heart.
“Yes. It’s actually really comfortable after leaving home. The cleaning gets done automatically when it’s time, and I don’t have to worry about what to make for every meal.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to clean, cook, or do laundry in the first place. Don’t do any of it anymore. Even if you don’t do those things…”
“What if I don’t?”
“What?”
“Let’s say we make another contract. Then what exactly am I supposed to do from now on?”
For the first time since they had met that day, she smiled at him. But Dook’s face stiffened. He thought he understood the meaning behind that weak smile.
“I told you I’m not holding on to you because of sex. I felt it even more clearly over the past few days. You… are important to me.”
It was something he was saying for the first time in his life. He had never expected that someone he needed would appear in the life he had been certain he would live and die alone.
“It must be… something like physical attachment. We did it every day, after all. Looking back, that was all there was between us.”
He crumpled his brow and sprang up in outrage.
“Why would you use a word like that?”
“Was it too vulgar? Even so… it’s the only word that expresses it accurately.”
That was not the problem. He was angry that she was dismissing the relationship they had built over all this time as nothing more than physical attachment.
“Do you think I’m some sex-crazed bastard?”
Though he asked in a raised voice, one side of his chest honestly did feel pricked. He remembered how he had always thrown himself at her like a man obsessed with sex.
But it was not only because of that.
‘Is it really not only because of that…?’
There was nothing in this matter to which he could give a confident answer. He still had not clearly figured out why he did not want to let her go so badly. But he felt anxious, as though losing her now would mean losing her completely. Unable to shake off that anxiety, he was acting stubbornly like a child in a way that did not suit him at all.
“Then we can make the contract. If you agree to my conditions without fail.”
He was suspicious of how suddenly she had spoken positively about the contract, but he opened his mouth without needing to think any further.
“I told you before. I’d agree to anything.”
She smiled once more. He rather liked her smile, but this one was so weary that even his heart sank. He hated that expression of hers. Those eyes, that smile, that breathing—all of it gave him the feeling that she had let him go.
He had lost his reason for a moment when he read that expression on the day she left the house. Of course, knowing for certain that if something like that happened again, her heart would move even farther away from him, he could only clamp down harder on his tense jaw.
“If we make another contract, make sure this clause is included. Choi Dook and Yu Seonha shall never engage in a physical relationship.”
“…”
“What?”
“Do you still want to make a contract with me?”
After confirming his distorted expression, she gave a wan smile.
“I was joking.”
While he was gradually losing control of his emotions, Seonha seemed to grow calmer with every passing moment, as though she had wrapped herself in a hard shell.
“Ah, I mean that wanting to make the contract again was a joke, too.”
“You’ve gotten a kick out of teasing me, haven’t you?”
“But you were shaken, weren’t you? You couldn’t answer right away.”
The reason he had been unable to answer immediately was not because he wanted to make a contract with her solely for sex. But the sex he shared with her had also enriched his life to such an extent that he could not bring himself to say he would give it up easily.
Honestly, he did not know why he should stop having a physical relationship with her. Why give up something that felt so good?
He had felt deliriously good whenever he possessed her body, and he had witnessed countless times how she, too, sank into the same pleasure. Why on earth did she reject sex with him, their married life together? He could not understand it at all.
“My answer hasn’t changed. You’re a smart person, so you must already feel it. Spending your time on me like this is pointless. Your time is money, after all.”
She seemed cruel in the way she left not even the slightest trace of lingering attachment behind. It had been three years. For three full years, they had been together in the closest possible proximity. It was not a short period by any means. They had colored each other, grown accustomed to one another… perhaps it had been enough time for each of them to become so important that imagining life without the other was impossible.
Dook’s brow hardened. Important enough that he could not imagine life without her? The emotion he felt was unfamiliar.
Until now, he had never had anyone who was that absolute to him. Not his parents, who had turned their backs on him, nor his grandfather, who had turned away with them and only sought him out after they had all died because he had become ‘necessary.’ There had been no one he could trust, and having never received proper affection, he had been incapable of feeling or giving affection to anyone else.
And yet, simply because they had lived together for three years, the woman who was trying to leave had become so hateful to him, and he felt so desperate that if he did not hold on to her, he would be pushed over a precipice at once? He knew better than anyone that his heart, frozen long ago, was not so easily softened.
The only reason he felt this way was her existence. Because the person he had lived with was Yu Seonha. Because Seonha had always smiled beside him, unchanging as sunlight. He did not want to lose her. He wanted to remain with her.
“Now, let’s really end this.”
She did not avoid his eyes. She stared straight at him and firmly conveyed that her resolve had not changed.
Dook swallowed the questions that had risen to the surface and focused on the woman standing before him. He had once thought of her as water flowing gently, but now she felt cold and solid as ice. She was clearly the woman he knew, yet she seemed like someone else entirely.
“Your way of speaking… No, your whole atmosphere has changed.”
Was it after she left the house? Or from the moment she held out the divorce papers to him?
Do-uk mulled it over and soon realized. She had not changed recently; she had changed from the moment they began their contract.
Before their marriage, she had possessed a freer, steadier air—enough to leave him speechless whenever he tried to solve every problem with money.
She had changed after the marriage. She obeyed his every word and demand, never voicing a single complaint even when she had every reason to be angry. Although his first meeting with her had left such a strong impression on him, he had failed to notice how completely her manner had withered after the marriage, like a dying flower.
And only now did he clearly feel the difference. The woman before him had not changed. She had returned to being the Yu Seonha she had been before marriage, before she had become involved with him.
“That’s……”
The corners of Seonha’s dry lips slowly parted.
“Because I was the weaker party to you all this time.”
His face stiffened. She had been the weaker party? It was a word that did not suit their relationship. If he had to define their relationship, they had been partners who worked well together.
“The contract does specify the superior and subordinate parties.”
“So you acted like the subordinate all this time?”
Anger surged up without warning. Then had she slept with him even though she had never wanted to? Had she been forced into his arms by the contract even though she hated him? He wanted to ask her that, but he could not bring himself to speak, terrified that he might hear exactly that answer.
“Why on earth did you make a contract with me? It wasn’t because you wanted money.”
Seonha looked at him in surprise.
“You knew it wasn’t about money?”
“Even if I’m insensitive, I can tell you’re not a woman who cares much about money.”
He had thought she was a vulgar woman who would rashly go so far as to marry for money. Even if that had been what he thought, she had in fact deceived him and entered into the contract, leaving her unable even to make excuses. Yet the knowledge that he had understood her made her feel a little more at ease, as though her heart had been submerged in lukewarm water.
So he hadn’t been completely uninterested in her outside of their physical relationship. Somehow, that comforted her.
“If you had liked money…… I think things would have been much easier.”
The sincerity in his bitter murmur was unmistakable. His face was troubled, unable to find a way to turn her heart back toward him.
Seonha suddenly remembered the day she had gone alone to Chairman Choi’s house.
Chairman Choi would sometimes sigh and say that he regretted having raised his young grandson without ever properly scolding him, because he felt so sorry for him. He had thought that was the best way to open Do-uk’s heart, which had already grown indifferent not only to other people but even to his own family.
Back then, while Chairman Choi was busy with work, the only way he knew to show affection to Do-uk was through money. Understanding the sorrow of a child who had once been abandoned by his family, he gave him whatever he wanted and placed it in his hands.
When he had raised his own children in his younger days, he had left childcare and education to his wife and wandered outside under the pretext of company business. There was no way he knew how to properly raise and teach an injured young grandson. He merely tried to fill Do-uk’s deficiencies as much as possible by lavishing more material things on him than on any of his children or grandchildren, and Do-uk learned that he lived in a world where money could solve everything.
Listening to Chairman Choi’s lament, she came to understand why, at their first meeting, Do-uk had brusquely acted as though he would give her money if only she did not bother him. And as she listened to his story, she had come to long to fill the emptiness inside him.
What a…… laughable desire.
“It’s late. You should go.”
Contrary to her expectations, Do-uk did not insist and obediently nodded. She had been worried that, after lying low for several days and finally coming to see her, he might have prepared himself for a fierce confrontation.
“I’ll come again tomorrow. Let’s have dinner together.”
At his words, Seonha discovered a shadowy part of herself feeling relieved deep in her heart. He had not let her go easily. Whatever the reason, she was glad.
And then she despaired. Within the emotion called love, she was still merely walking in place.
At this rate, she would make another foolish decision and continue to regret it. She would keep relying on him, who would never give her any feelings in return, and be disappointed again.
Although she knew how to make him give up on her completely, she had pretended not to know until now. Because that method would also make him hate and despise her utterly.
But now she had to decide. Once she had made up her mind to give up on him, she could no longer allow herself to be swayed. She could not keep repeating soft, empty refusals to him as he continued to approach her, asking to maintain their marriage. She had to give him a “real” refusal—one he could fully accept and use to give up on her.
“If anything happens, contact me right away.”
Do-uk stopped as he opened the door and turned back to say this. Seonha softly parted her lips toward him as he stepped outside the room.
“Mr. Choi Do-uk.”
“Would you like me to tell you, one last time, why I was the weaker party to you?”
Of all the verbal abuse hurled at her by the mother of her first boyfriend, those words alone had lingered in her mind for a long time. That was why she had been unable to say it. She had been afraid that even he, who had lived a life so different from hers that they might as well have belonged to separate worlds, would laugh at her feelings. She had been afraid he would think, How dare someone like you—someone of your station—claim to love me?
But now she had to tell him. She wanted to convey her honest feelings. Only then could she cut off her lingering attachment and slowly release him from her heart.
“I liked you.”
Do-uk’s relaxed eyes hardened in place.
“That’s why I made the contract.”
“……”
“You said we shouldn’t have unnecessary feelings, but I deceived you and married you even though I already felt that way.”
It was something she had hidden all this time because she did not want the man she liked to hate her. She felt a little relieved, perhaps. The thought of deceiving him had always made her shrink inward, unable to hold her head high.
But the pain was still greater. As she faced him, frozen as though he had never once expected to feel an emotion so natural between a man and a woman, the agony pouring through her heart grew fiercer. For three years, she had desperately thirsted for a “love” he had never even imagined, let alone wanted. She felt like a fool.
“That’s why I can’t make another contract with you.”
He must have been very shocked. As time passed, he would probably begin to grow angry. Perhaps he would tremble with betrayal.
Watching him stare at her as though he had been turned to stone, unable to make the slightest movement, Seonha delivered her final words.
“I’m sorry for deceiving you all this time. Get home safely.”
Then she shut the door with a click.
Seonha leaned her back against the door and slowly sank to the floor. Curling her body and wrapping both arms around her knees, she lowered her eyelids. She could not even laugh, and tears were even farther beyond her reach.
She should travel and study whatever she wanted to study. When she wanted to rest, she should rest, and if there was something she wanted to learn, she should challenge herself without hesitation. Even if it felt a little shameless, she simply…… wanted to try living while doing the things she wanted to do.
Her body had collapsed as though it had been knocked down, yet she thought about the future she would change from now on. As though she were fleeing from reality.
Professor Ahn had said that she was stronger and more resilient than Do-uk, living brightly as though she had forgotten her wounds. But that was not true. She had smiled only because she was a coward. If she showed a face different from everyone else’s, she would only suffer another wound. She had merely worked tirelessly to blend in with others.
She had loved like a coward as well, so that she would not be hurt. She could only confess after she had decided to end the love.
Words spoken without risking anything, words that would simply be uttered in vain and then end. Words she had only barely managed to say after creating an escape route for herself in case she was rejected, because she was afraid of being refused.
It was the most pathetic confession in the world.