Chapter 1.2

“I… have something to say.” 

“Say it.” 

Her husband grabbed her left arm and lifted it. After her collarbone, his next target was her armpit. 

“Hng…” 

As he sucked on the sensitive area, the words she wanted to say turned into m*ans. She hated making noises, so she tried to hold back, but resisting his skilled touch was never easy. 

“How can I talk when… Hng… you’re doing this?” 

She resented her own body. It felt as though her heated reactions to his tongue and hands betrayed her—as if her body had been waiting for this. She realized she was now completely exposed. 

“I’m listening.” 

“You don’t…” 

“I left your mouth free, didn’t I?” 

He had never kissed her before. 

His words sounded as though he was doing her a favor, but she scoffed inwardly. 

They rarely kissed. Despite their bodies colliding countless times, their lips had rarely met. 

It wasn’t in her nature to initiate a kiss either. 

Her husband kept moving. He removed her skirt, placed his fingers over her underwear, and touched the damp spot. Raising one eyebrow, he seemed to say ‘Are you still going to reject me?’ 

In the past, she would have been mortified, unsure of how to respond. But now, she met his gaze with a look that said, ‘So what? What do you want me to do about it?’ 

“Say it again.” 

“I…” 

Once again, she couldn’t speak properly. 

He was already inside her. Slowly, deliberately, he slid in and out, his movements heavy and deliberate. Every thr*st made her body shake. 

It wasn’t just his grip strength that was impressive. 

His firm waist moved with rhythmic precision, and she found herself staring blankly at him. But only briefly—soon, she had to move in sync with him. 

She hated to admit it, but in bed, he was an exceptional husband. Perhaps that was why she had continued to share intimacy with him. 

She had thought that if they kept having s*x, their physical connection would lead to emotional closeness. She had hoped that her feelings would eventually move him. 

She had fallen for him first, and for three years, she had waited. 

“I… Hng!”  

Her husband, who had told her to speak, didn’t give her the chance and pushed forward relentlessly. 

Tonight, his movements were more intense than usual, and she was pushed up to the headboard of the bed. Her toes curled as the overwhelming sensation gripped her—a pleasure she could never get used to. 

Instead of wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she grabbed at the sheets spread out on either side, tearing them apart in frustration. No matter how much she wanted to resist the intensity of her husband’s passion, tonight she didn’t want to cling to him. 

The only thing she could accept from him tonight was the pleasure he gave her—nothing more. 

Rip. 

Her husband pulled the sheets out of her grasp. She held onto them desperately, but they tore apart in the end. 

He threw the torn fabric to the floor, grabbed her hips, and pulled her down. She clenched her fists tightly. 

She swung her fist at him, but he didn’t dodge. Instead, he pressed into her even more deeply and furiously than before. 

She watched her hand, which had failed to reach his shoulder and was now moving powerlessly in the air, before letting it drop. 

She had thought that if she accepted him quietly, he would stop after three rounds. But her husband pulled her into his arms again. His *rection, already heated, showed no signs of cooling down. She worried that he might leave her feeling loose and sore afterward. 

Her husband’s relentless session finally ended much later. She had moaned so much that her voice was hoarse. Lying sprawled on one side of the bed, she cleared her throat. 

She didn’t want to sound weak when she brought up divorce. She didn’t want to appear any weaker than she already did. 

As always, her husband rose to his feet, displaying his taut, sculpted muscles. She thought he would head straight to the bathroom, but he turned back to look at her. 

“Go Ah-jin.” 

His palm rested on her head as she gasped for air. His fingers naturally slid down her cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear. 

Her gaze wavered slightly at hearing her name for the first time in a while. 

At least he had called her name. The fact that he had used her full name, including her surname, made it clear—he fully understood what she was about to say. 

“Do you want a divorce?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hm.” 

Her husband let out a noise that sounded like a meaningless sigh. His hand, which had been resting near her ear, moved to her forehead. 

Then, he pressed his forehead against hers. His lingering heat made her flinch. 

“You don’t have a fever.” 

“……” 

His overly serious tone almost made her laugh. He was treating her like a patient with a cold. 

If he cared so much, why hadn’t he just avoided touching her? 

But her labored breathing prevented her from speaking clearly. 

“It’s too soon.” 

Like a doctor finishing an examination and delivering a diagnosis, he concluded. 

Her mind filled with questions. 

What did he mean by “too soon”? 

Three years was by no means a short time. 

How many more years would she have to endure before he agreed to divorce her? 

She wanted to ask more questions, but her eyelids kept drooping. Her eyes felt dry and heavy. She had suffered from insomnia for days, only to surrender to sleep now. 

In the end, she succumbed to her drowsiness. 

***

The next day, her alarm went off. She opened her swollen eyes and sat up. 

6 a.m. Thirty minutes before her husband’s departure for work. 

She had anticipated the events of the previous night and set the alarm accordingly. This morning, she was determined to speak her mind properly. 

She hurried to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, washed up, and brushed her hair. Her perfect makeup from the night before had smudged, leaving her looking disheveled, but she opened the door and stepped out. 

Crossing the living room and heading toward the entrance, she saw her husband preparing to leave for work. The house was empty except for the two of them. 

With no housekeeper present, the timing was perfect. She didn’t hesitate and ran toward him. 

“Are you leaving already?” 

“Go back to sleep.” 

Without even looking at her, her husband turned away. Even his tall, retreating figure under the front door’s light seemed painfully flawless. The words he uttered were cold and indifferent. 

She hadn’t expected him to be so cruel. He could probably crush her emotionally without even trying, but she couldn’t bear to show any more weakness. 

She grabbed the hem of his coat and clung to him. She had promised herself she wouldn’t beg him, but this was her limit. 

“Please divorce me.” 

“You’re still half-asleep.” 

“No, I’m wide awake. Please.” 

She felt like a defeated soldier stripped of their armor, left with nothing but their bare body. 

She thought of the torn sheets from the night before and tightened her grip on his coat. She had liked those sheets quite a lot. 

If he destroyed this coat, she thought she might feel some satisfaction. With his strength, it wouldn’t be impossible. 

“Let go.” 

“Will you do it if I let go?” 

Divorce. The word she had spent months deliberating over was difficult to say aloud. It felt like a stone lodged in her throat, refusing to pass. Her voice sounded unfamiliar, husky, and raw. 

“If you’re cold, wear this.” 

Instead of pushing her away or yanking his coat back, her husband took it off and handed it to her. His tailored suit clung perfectly to his body, accentuating his sharp silhouette. 

She didn’t need something he didn’t care about. 

“No, thank you.” 

“Divorce is out of the question.” 

“W-What?” 

What a cruel man. 

He didn’t even listen to her proposal properly, nor did he ask for a reason or argue with her. 

The coat he had taken off and practically handed to her fell to the floor. 

Tsk. 

The sound of him clicking his tongue made her feel even more miserable. 

“If I die, you’ll have to take the money back anyway.”  

When she said those words, her husband’s reaction was identical to her father’s. Back then, she had uttered those words with such desperation. The only difference was that her father had asked her opinion for the first time. 

But her husband’s words no longer reached her. Even after the door closed, she stood in front of the entrance for a while. 

‘Do I not even have the right to bring up divorce?’ 

Her husband’s reaction was completely different from what she had anticipated. She had worried that he might get angry, but his indifferent response left her feeling hollow. 

They say anger stems from affection. 

If that were true, then he didn’t have even a shred of affection for her. 

Perhaps she would really get a divorce from him after all. Her breath grew faint.

When the door opened again, it was the housekeeper who entered. Upon seeing her, the woman gasped in surprise and asked what had happened. 

Her lips remained sealed. She collapsed onto the floor, falling onto the coat that lay there.