Chapter 9

“Apologies.”  

Serin quickly changed her attitude.  

“I’ll apologize, so let’s just drop it. I really didn’t mean it.”  

She said that obsequiously to Taeheon, but when her eyes met Yaein’s, she bit her lip.  

“Yaein?”  

“…….”  

“I’m sorry. I might have made a mistake, not realizing you were still standing there.”  

Even while apologizing, Serin made no effort to smooth things over. There wasn’t even a trace of disappointment—she knew full well she could be pushed aside again at any moment.  

“From now on, you won’t ever have to come when I call you, Sister.”  

“Why are you being so petty? I said it wasn’t intentional. I already apologized.” 

“After all, I was the one who asked for support for your exhibition in the first place. You shouldn’t worry about the next one—just ask Director Baek directly about how it will go.”  

“Director Baek? Oh, look at this. Yaein!”  

Without sparing any back-and-forth, Yaein turned and walked away. Although she heard a murmuring sound from behind her, she tried not to pay it any mind as she descended the stairs.  

I don’t want my child to have to go through this kind of thing.  

That was all she thought.  

With each step on the stairs, her already twisted ankle throbbed weakly. Noticing Yaein’s tense gait, Taeheon linked his arm with hers.  

Already so close, their bodies pressed together; Yaein could smell her husband’s scent growing stronger.  

“How did you know about this place?”  

Unable to bear her tension any longer, Yaein spoke first.  

“If you hadn’t told me, I’d look like a fool—completely clueless about what event the in-laws were holding.”  

“Because you’re so busy.”

In response to Taeheon’s admonishment, Yaein said nothing more than a quiet reply. Who would have time to worry about such things?  

It wasn’t surprising anyway. Her husband was always busy with work, and whether it was on his side or hers, taking care of family events always fell on Yaein’s shoulders.  

That was their arrangement, so she told herself there was no reason to feel hurt. That was what she had tried to convince herself.  

“If I’d known you’d be seen in such a light without me there, I wouldn’t have gone by myself.”  

If she had heard that before, she might have found it endearing. Yaein let out a small laugh.  

“I didn’t know for four years.”  

A bastard who was pushed around like a sellable illegitimate daughter—a half-sister, really. It was treatment one could guess with just a little thought.  

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known—it was that she hadn’t wanted to pay any attention.  

A smart, perceptive person couldn’t possibly be unaware of how she lived.  

Yaein looked at Taeheon. His handsome profile was pleasing; she could feel the exhibition visitors stealing glances at him.  

“……Thank you for taking my side.”  

If it hadn’t been for Taeheon, Serin would never have apologized. Realizing her own powerlessness, she was glad he was by her side—a miserable kind of joy.  

Without warning, dizziness overtook her. Her ankle, planted on the slippery floor, twisted sharply. Taeheon caught her as though to support a staggering Yaein in his arms.  

“Are you okay?”  

“I’m fine. I just stumbled for a moment.”  

“You don’t look well. Go home and rest.”  

Yaein nodded. All she wanted was to lie in bed and rest quietly.  

Before she could even head for the exit, a friendly greeting stopped them.  

“Oh my, Mr. Kwon. It looks like you came with your wife?”  

A middle-aged woman wearing a scarf on her head called out to Taeheon.  

Recognizing her immediately, Yaein halted Taeheon in his tracks—it was the wife of the politician who had just been re-elected.  

“Hello. We met at the New Year gathering, didn’t we? I hope you’ve been well?”  

Yaein stepped forward and greeted her. Her lips, forced into a smile, twitched slightly.  

“I’ve been well. And you, Yaein, still look lovely. I think you’ve even grown more beautiful, haven’t you?”  

The woman, with a playful tone, casually glanced at the arm around her.  

“Maybe it’s because your husband loves you so much that you’ve become even prettier. My, how many years have you been married now? You look so good.”  

“It’s been over four years now.”  

“It’s about time you started thinking about a child, isn’t it?”  

This was the topic that always came up when conversation began. Before our miscarriage, we could have laughed and said we were considering it, but now her tongue kept stiffening.  

“I’m still not in a position to afford one.”  

Before the conversation about children could go any further, Taeheon took the initiative. Just as before, Taeheon stepped forward on Yaein’s behalf.  

“Actually, Congressman Kim kindly invited me the other day to see his garden. He said that the roses you personally cultivated are so beautiful, and I plan to come by with you soon.”  

For a moment, while I was still a bit dazed, my husband finished the conversation with a smooth, almost elusive smile.  

I kept feeling protected by him.  

My sore ankle ached more and more as I leaned on him until we reached the car. Taeheon effortlessly bore my entire weight.  

My heart fluttered with nervous anticipation.

Sometimes, Taeheon made Yaein feel a longing like this—he casually teased her and won her heart.  

As he opened the back door and made sure that Yaein got into the car first, she couldn’t help but feel a certain love for him—an insignificant love that she would soon have to cast aside.  

During the ride, not a word was exchanged. In the silence, whenever he occasionally stole a glance at the seat next to him, Taeheon was absorbed in his tablet, completely preoccupied with work. He would lavish unexpected attention one moment, only to become indifferent the next. It was just as it had always been.  

Even though he hadn’t asked to come along, it felt almost dreamlike that he had appeared at the exhibition hall to pick Yaein up. It was merely a passing whim. Now, she would have no expectations of him.  

When they arrived home, Yaein quickly opened the front door—desperately wanting to get away from having Taeheon so close.  

“Wait a moment,” Taeheon called out, stopping Yaein, who was about to head straight for the dressing room, and ushering her to sit on the sofa.  

“Show me your foot.”  

Before she could say it was alright, Taeheon’s hand wrapped around her injured leg. Even seeing that her ankle was only slightly red, he wouldn’t let go.  

He then took out a first-aid kit, knelt on the floor, and sat down; Yaein awkwardly looked down at him. It was rare to see tall Taeheon from above—only when he lowered himself like this.  

“It looks like your muscles were a bit startled. It’s nothing serious,” he said.  

Despite Yaein’s objections, as Taeheon carefully rotated her ankle, deep wrinkles appeared on his brow. The man, with his scowling expression, was remarkably handsome.  

I understand why people say it’d be wonderful if a child that resembled his father were born—a baby who took after Taeheon would be incredibly cute.  

“I mean, a child…”  

At that, Taeheon’s hand halted.  

It was a topic that hadn’t come up even once since the miscarriage; after leaving the hospital, Taeheon had thoroughly avoided any mention of a child.  

“You don’t need to fret over such words.”  

“I think it would have been wonderful if you’d had one—a child who takes after you.”

Taeheon frowned and pursed his lips—his expression was strange, as if he were both angry and amused.  

“My thoughts are different.”  

“And what are your thoughts?”  

“Isn’t it a relief? That now, at home, they won’t keep nagging you to have a baby.”  

Speaking matter-of-factly, Taeheon applied a patch to Yaein’s ankle. When the cold, squishy surface touched her, her toes curled in.  

A chilling sensation seeped into her skin. She wanted to retort at his words—why? What could be so relieving about that?  

Because your parents have learned about my birth. Because they won’t want the child I bear for you?  

“I hate children. I hate it even more if the child looks like me.”  

Yaein pressed her lower abdomen gently. Even though a baby—nothing more than cells at this stage—wouldn’t be hurt by what its father said, she still wanted to protect it. She’d wanted to protect it from everything, even before it could understand.  

“I’ve always wanted a child.”  

A small, innocent baby—a family to share a lifetime with. I wanted to feed it, clothe it, and raise it happier than anyone else.  

Even if a child I might never have existed were to vanish… I would want to see it off well.  

But you, you wouldn’t be that, would you?  

It felt as if a corner of my heart had gone empty. That same sense of loss from that day returned.  

“It’s a relief, isn’t it? That I can remarry someone who doesn’t think like you.”  

Taeheon stared at Yaein. His steady, unwavering gaze was so intense that brilliant blue sparks seemed to leap from it—as if, when striking flint, sparks fly before a flame ignites.  

“Again, I have no intention of divorcing you.”  

Hearing each word clearly, Yaein said nothing.  

We’re going to break up.

As if reading a single word without a sound, Taeheon’s jaw muscles tensed. A finger—one that seemed as if it would soon drop away—suddenly gripped Yaein’s foot, caressing it boldly as if to assert ownership. The concave center of her foot was rubbed; his thumb rolled over her protruding heel bone in a motion reminiscent of f*replay before penetration. He stroked her l*bia and rubbed the split inner mucosa with his fingertips, gently pressing down on her cl*toris…

The way he touched her was so blatantly explicit it was almost shameful. It was immediately clear that her husband was doing this intentionally.

“As I said this morning, I no longer want to have s*x with you.”

Yaein tried to pull her foot free from Taeheon’s grasp, but his large hand remained as immovable as if it were made of iron shackles.

“Who calls massaging feet ‘s*x’?” Taeheon countered with a nonchalant tone.

“If you think this will get my c*ck going, then I don’t know what to call it.”

His fingertips slid in between her toes. The soft flesh there was tickled so gently that, for a moment, it nearly drew out a sound from her.

“You’re too refined to be doing things like that.”

Her cheeks burned. Every time Taeheon spoke such lewd words, she still found herself startled. His intelligent looks and calm voice, contrasted so starkly with his crude language, made everything feel even more explicit.

“I won’t listen, even if I know.”

“Do you know that your older sister wants to sleep with me?”

“W-what…?”

Before she could even fully comprehend what she’d just heard, Taeheon repeated:

“Your sister—every time I see her, she’s so desperate that she wants nothing more than to be under me.”

“Wh-what kind of thing are you saying?”

Even as her already flushed face grew even redder—so red that one could imagine her cheeks without even checking in a mirror—Taeheon continued.

“I’m only stating the facts.”

Taeheon was laughing, as if he were telling a funny joke. He seemed to delight in my utterly helpless reaction.

“…Did my older sister ask to sleep with you?”

Even though I wanted to shake off his hand and leave, I simply couldn’t ignore it.

It wouldn’t have been surprising if Serin coveted my husband. Besides, Taeheon was unmistakably a man one would be greedy for—his distinct, delicate features, his meticulously maintained body, and his naturally chiseled frame; no one could deny Kwon Taeheon’s physical allure.

Whenever he was around, even a mere gesture from him made every woman eagerly cling to him.

“She never said it outright, but she sent signals several times—anyone who fails to notice is nothing short of a fool.”

“So, what about you? How did you react?”

I wondered what you must have been thinking while receiving the desire thrown at you by another woman. Even though I knew this was the reaction Taeheon wanted, I had no choice but to give it.