Chapter 2.3

Watching the housekeeper struggle to understand his words only fueled his irritation. 

If his mother wanted to worry about someone, it should have been his wife, who was supposedly sick with the flu. 

He couldn’t fathom why his mother had sent someone so clueless to this house. For the first time, he questioned his mother’s judgment. 

And why would worrying about him involve calling his wife? 

It didn’t make sense. 

Even if he were busy with work, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t make time to call his mother. 

If she had something to say, she could have directed it at him. 

“Young Master, you know you’re the eldest son. Of course, Madam cares for you more. Knowing that, I don’t understand why you’re reacting so unusually today.”

And if his mother had been calling his wife often enough for it to be considered “usual,” then it wasn’t the first time.

The housekeeper’s tone implied she knew all about it. 

Yet his wife had never mentioned it to him. 

Was it so hard for her to just say his mother was bothering her?

“This doesn’t make sense. Is my mother always this type to worry unnecessarily?” 

“Well, Senior Madam is just…” 

“Do you also report to my mother about my wife?” 

Jin-wook’s words cut through the air like a sharp blade. 

“I-I’m sorry.” 

Even the experienced housekeeper couldn’t hide her startled expression. 

It wasn’t just the first time she’d heard Jin-wook speak so critically about Madam Shin, but also the first time he seemed to know everything already. 

She couldn’t even muster the courage to make excuses. 

“Just answer the questions I ask.” 

“Well… Of course, I don’t report everything exactly as it is. I couldn’t do that. I filter things out and adjust them appropriately, so there’s no need to worry about that.” 

Though it wasn’t something to boast about, the housekeeper felt it was a meaningful defense from her perspective. 

She wanted to emphasize her efforts in mediating between the two women. 

The Senior Madam was the type to mobilize every resource to achieve her goals. 

In contrast, the Young Madam, Ah-jin, seemed almost inarticulate, rarely making any demands. 

Sometimes that made her seem pitiful; other times, it made her difficult to deal with. 

Conveying messages between two people so starkly different was, in some ways, more challenging than managing the household itself. 

“You said you liked my wife because she felt like a daughter to you. Now I realize it’s because you found her easy to manipulate.” 

“Y-Young Master, you’re mistaken! That’s not it! I only wanted to maintain peace between the two of them, just as it is now.” 

“Fine. Let’s hope it’s just my exaggeration.” 

If it wasn’t, Jin-wook’s piercing gaze suggested he might tear the housekeeper apart right then and there. 

Leaning back against the sofa, he crossed his legs casually. 

It had merely been a test, but the housekeeper had revealed too much too easily. 

Even though he knew she was someone his mother had sent, he had been curious why his wife hadn’t pushed her away. 

The reason turned out to be disappointingly simple. 

She wasn’t skilled at hiding her true intentions, which was likely why his wife hadn’t rejected her outright. 

“Young Master, are you angry?” 

“I haven’t said I’m firing you yet.” 

“Then, from now on…” 

“Report to me, not my mother.” 

As for his wife, the housekeeper was to report everything without filtering anything. 

This was Jin-wook’s sole condition. 

If the housekeeper was going to act as a middleman, he planned to use her in his own way. 

What did his mother need to know about his wife anyway? 

If there was anything to learn about his wife’s thoughts or actions within the household, that was entirely his responsibility. 

His lack of interference in his mother’s affairs until now had nothing to do with any unspoken agreement. 

He simply hadn’t felt the need to concern himself. 

But from now on, he would intervene and meddle. 

If his wife’s thoughts of divorce stemmed from his mother… 

If she had been too afraid of his mother to confide in the housekeeper… 

Then it was his problem to resolve. 

He asked the housekeeper where his wife might have gone. 

The answer was roughly what he had expected. 

Her grandmother, who was long-term hospitalized at Han River Hospital. 

Or Madam Shin’s residence. 

There was nowhere else she could go. 

Since there had been no summons from Madam Shin, the hospital was the only option left. 

His wife wasn’t the type to go out often. 

She was said to spend most of her time locked in her room on the second floor. 

She disliked visitors, so even the housekeeper didn’t know what she did there. 

If only she had stayed in her room. 

Then he could have simply opened the door and found her. 

She was a wife who constantly perplexed him. 

With an even narrower social circle than his own, where could she possibly have gone? 

***

The housekeeper, who had insisted on staying until Jin-wook’s wife returned, was sent home. He practically chased her out, as keeping her around wouldn’t be of much help. 

It was now 11 p.m. Following his usual post-work routine, Jin-wook took a shower and headed to the study. 

Not the master bedroom, but the study. There, he tasted a hint of despair. 

She hadn’t come home by this hour…. 

Was his wife staging some kind of protest? 

Tap, tap. 

He drummed his fingers against the table, then cracked his knuckles out of habit. 

It was a bad habit Madam Shin had once advised him to fix during his time at the family home before marriage. 

Although he always maintained a poker face in tense situations, this particular habit was hard to break—especially when he found himself suddenly thr*st into an unexpected situation, like now. 

When he called Han River Hospital, the caregiver informed him that his wife’s grandmother had been asleep for hours. 

When he asked if his wife had been there, the caregiver said she had left four hours ago. 

So, who has she been with for four hours? 

Even recalling the housekeeper’s earlier comment—that his wife had gone out wearing the coat he had left behind in the morning—only made him scoff bitterly. 

“You didn’t answer your phone. You’ve grown bold, Go Ah-jin.” 

He pressed the call button on his phone, but all he heard was the endless ringing and the automated voice informing him that the recipient was unavailable. 

For the first time in months, he thought about smoking. 

He had quit successfully, scoffing at withdrawal symptoms, but now he was experiencing them—because of his wife. 

Right now, he needed to hold her. 

Ending his day without her felt like a ritual of self-control. 

Or perhaps, from her perspective, it was a ritual of torment. 

That could be the case. 

But it wasn’t just that. 

Scattered thoughts he had forgotten began surfacing. 

The day his late father had been unreachable…. 

He had sat alone like this. 

In the end, his father remained unreachable, and the next day, Jin-wook was the first to discover his father’s lifeless body. 

It had been an unexpected death—none of the family had seen it coming. 

The shock was compounded by the unexpected location where the death had occurred. 

The cause of death wasn’t murder or s*icide, but overwork. 

Unable to accept reality, his mother had requested an autopsy, but the results were the same. 

Brrring.

The monotonous sound of the phone ringing echoed. 

Jin-wook checked the screen and frowned. 

‘Should I answer this?’ 

If he answered, the conversation would inevitably start with talk of divorce. 

No. 

To make her understand how ridiculous the idea was, he needed to confront her face-to-face first. 

To do that, he had to get her back home. 

Before he realized it, his hand had moved faster than his thoughts. 

“It’s me.” 

He answered the call, trying to maintain a rational tone. 

But all he heard was loud background noise. 

It wasn’t his wife’s voice. 

It wasn’t even her breathing. 

“Go Ah-jin!” 

Ultimately, he lost his composure. 

Shouting into the phone, he finally heard a response from the other end. 

Of all things, it wasn’t Ah-jin. 

Hello. You’re saved in her phone as Choi Jin-wook, right? Are you her husband?”

Introducing herself as Eun-hee, a drama writer, the woman spoke rapidly. 

Eun-hee? 

It was the first time he’d heard the name. 

And apparently, his wife had saved his name in her phone only as “Choi Jin-wook.” 

Suppressing the urge to say something, Jin-wook clenched his fist tightly, veins bulging on his hand. 

“Is my wife there?” 

He spoke as calmly as possible, though his throat visibly tensed. 

Yes. Ah-jin is very drunk right now. She’s not usually like this, but she’s been drinking heavily. Do you know what’s going on? 

“It sounds like you called me to pick her up.” 

His nerves were on edge, and his response came out sharp. 

Why couldn’t she just stick to the point? 

She claimed to write dramas, yet now she was probing into someone else’s family matters. 

Yes, that’s true. But I have to head back to the broadcasting station, so you’ll need to come here.

“You’re leaving her alone?” 

If you’re that concerned, you should come quickly. We’re at a street food stall near Yeonnam-ro in Mapo-gu. Since it’s past rush hour, the roads shouldn’t be too congested.

Click. 

The call ended abruptly. 

At the same time, his nerves frayed completely.