“I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in about ten minutes—”

“Woo Se-hyeon.”

Se-hyeon’s face contorted at the sudden sound of Gyu-eun calling his name. Still holding the phone, he stared straight at her. She must have heard everything. Yet Ji-an offered no reply at all.

Se-hyeon took a deep breath and slowly blinked to try to keep his temper in check.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. See you soon.”

After the brief call ended, an awkward silence settled over the car.

“What are you trying to do right now?”

“Why do you think I’m acting like this? Don’t you know?”

Gyu-eun shot back, her eyes full of accusation. The Woo Se-hyeon she knew had never dated anyone. They’d been close since childhood, so it wasn’t an exaggeration to say she knew him well.

She’d never imagined that he would choose to marry for love instead of accepting an arranged marriage. If he had announced a strategic match, she might have understood.

But she could never have imagined that he would choose a wife himself. If it had been a political marriage, she might have understood better.

Hearing him answer the phone so tenderly felt like a blow to the head. Only now did reality hit her. The faint hope she’d clung to on her flight to Korea had completely crumbled.

While she groped for something to say, the car rolled to a stop in front of the main house.

“I don’t want to talk anymore. Take her home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before she could utter another word, Se-hyeon stepped out, leaving Gyu-eun alone in the now-masterless car.

“He just walked away—without saying a single word. How can he ignore me so blatantly?”

She muttered, laughing hollowly. She had followed him, thinking they might have another drink together. However, the way things turned out left her chuckling bitterly.

After dropping Woo Se-hyeon off, the driverless car pulled away, heading towards Gyu-eun’s apartment.

***

Standing before the front gate, Se-hyeon paused for a moment.

He had taken the call in front of Chae Gyu-eun without really thinking. But after stepping out into the cold night air and clearing his head, the memory of that brief call returned to him with striking clarity.

— “No, it’s not that. I just… I was wondering when you’d be coming home.”

Her trembling voice still echoed in his ears, vivid as ever. She’d tried so hard to sound casual, but Se-hyeon could tell how nervous Yoo Ji-an had been.

“She’s doing things she’s never done before.”

His brows drew together as he muttered suspiciously under his breath.

What on earth is Yang Jin-hee up to?

In the three years they’d lived together, Yoo Ji-an had never made a call like that before, whether private or for small talk. It was as if the only reason she called was to check when he’d be home.

Ever since she demanded a divorce, Ji-an had started to change — subtly, but undeniably.

Crossing the garden, Se-hyeon tried to trace the source of his growing unease.

As his thoughts tangled, he reached the second floor and began walking down the corridor. Just then, the bedroom door opened slightly.

Ji-an stepped out, only to freeze when she saw him.

As he approached her, she looked up, startled.

“You’re… back?”

He’d said he’d be home in ten minutes—and true to his word, here he was.

Maybe she thought he’d taken the call on his way back. Contrary to her assumption that he’d be out late, he had returned much earlier than expected.

“You planning to stand there all night?”

“Ah…”

Startled by his words, Ji-an quickly stepped aside. Se-hyeon brushed past her and entered the bedroom, slipping off his coat and handing it to her as if it were second nature.

He stared at her face intently.

Ji-an stood beside him, her gaze lowered.

“Say it.”

“…Sorry?”

Startled by the voice falling over her head, Ji-an jerked her head up.

“Say it. Whatever it is you called about.”

He spoke while loosening his tie, assuming she had something to say—something important enough to warrant the call.

She had a reason, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask it out loud.

She couldn’t bring herself to say, Were you with Chae Gyu-eun?

“It’s nothing, really… I just… called.”

“Just.”

“Yes.”

Se-hyeon echoed the word like it was a joke, as if the answer had caught him off guard.

He paused in the middle of undoing his cufflinks and looked her up and down. When his gaze reached her feet, however, his expression suddenly hardened.

A slim pain-relief patch was wrapped around her left ankle. She had said she had sprained it earlier, so this must be the remedy.

“I’m fine.”

Ji-an said, sensing exactly where his gaze had landed. She slipped her injured foot behind the other, trying to hide it.

Still, he didn’t look away. Embarrassed, Ji-an blew out her cheeks.

Se-hyeon’s eyes stayed fixed on her as he unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, trying to read her intentions.

For the past three years, Ji-an had stood beside Se-hyeon every night to take his jacket, whether she had been helping with dinner or had been woken up at dawn or dusk.

It was as if she had been at his side from the very beginning, as if this spot had always been hers.

He’d never really thought about it until now. His gaze lingered on her, then fell to the hands clutching his coat.

The same small hands that had been intertwined with his only moments ago.

“……”

The sight sent a heavy feeling pooling in his stomach.

‘What’s wrong with me? I’m not a deviant. Why was he so fixated on my hands?’

He exhaled softly, his brows tightening as a dull ache spread through him.

“About that call earlier…”

Ji-an ventured carefully. Her unexpected move made him freeze again. As sharp as he was, he knew who she meant, but he pretended not to know.

He wanted to hear it from her own lips — he wanted to know exactly who had made her hesitate like this. After all, she’d been worried enough to call him.

“It’s nothing. I’ll run the bath. I should have started it as soon as we finished talking on the phone.”

She stopped there, unable to voice the question. Ji-an shook her head and hastily turned away.

“Ah…!”

Se-hyeon caught her wrist and pulled her into his arms. Startled, Ji-an looked up at him, chest nearly pressed to his.

Her skin, flushed to the nape of her neck, trembled as he leisurely slipped the silk robe from her shoulders.

“Why do you keep stopping mid-sentence?”

His hand smoothed over her rounded shoulder, and even the rim of her ear turned crimson. Tracing the hollow of her collarbone with one fingertip, he went on.

“What has you so curious, hm?”

She stood in only a thin slip, every line of her figure exposed. He’d held this body countless times over the last three years, yet merely looking at her still roused him—ridiculously so.

Twenty-three. He’d felt plenty of guilt touching her at that age, but he wasn’t saintly enough to wait until marriage. Besides, he’d always believed Yoo Ji-an would become his wife—so what reason was there to hold back?

Back then too—he hadn’t been able to resist those innocent eyes. And now, once again, his body responded to that very gaze.

“If you won’t talk, there’s nothing we can do. We’ll see how well you endure tonight.”

“Mm—”
“Until you speak.”

He murmured softly and pulled her into his arms.

As he casually cupped the soft curve of her cheek in his hand, a faint crease formed between Ji-an’s eyebrows. She looked completely flustered and unsure of what to do. Se-hyeon stared straight at her as he kissed her.

“Hmph—!”

Her faint moan was swallowed by his mouth.

He deepened the kiss, gently sucking on her sweet, familiar lips. Due to the height difference, Ji-an had to tilt her head back.

He had wanted to kiss her all day. But when exactly had that desire started?

Was it when she clumsily trailed behind him in heels? Or when she slipped her fingers between his and held his hand so tightly? Or perhaps it was the moment she called him, her voice trembling with nerves as she asked when he would be home?

As he kissed her and replayed the day’s events in his mind, Se-hyeon pulled her frail body closer. When their lower bodies brushed, quiet groans escaped them both, echoing in his ears.

‘Damn it.’

With a furrow of his brow, Se-hyeon cupped her cheek in one hand. He was just about to take a step forward when—

“Ah—!”

A sharp sound made him freeze. He let go of her lips and examined her face.

“What is it?”

“It’s just… earlier, I twisted my ankle.”

The image of her ankle wrapped in a pain patch flashed through his mind. Ji-an’s face was contorted with pain.

“…!”

When he looked down, he saw that the slightest twist of her ankle caused her to wince; she was standing on tiptoe to avoid the pain. Without hesitating, he picked her up.

“Please… put me down.”

Now facing him and cradled in his embrace, she shook her head and blushed with embarrassment. Her slip had already been tugged down earlier, leaving little to the imagination.

Despite her protest, Se-hyeon began to walk slowly, still holding her.

“You’re just going to stay still like that?”

“….”

At his quiet murmur, Ji-an looked up at him from her spot nestled against his chest. Her dark eyes wavered uncertainly.

“Open your mouth and kiss me.”

In response to his commanding tone, Ji-an fidgeted with her hands, which were looped around his neck, and let out a small, shaky breath.

Se-hyeon, watching her flustered face up close, stopped just in front of the bed.

He said nothing, only stared.

Taking this as a sign, perhaps, Ji-an seemed to make a decision. Slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

Seeing her gently suck on his lower lip, Se-hyeon smiled crookedly.