It was surprising enough that Se-hyeon had bought a frame like this, but what truly caught Ji-an off guard was that he had even mentioned the baby’s gender. She looked at him with wide eyes, clearly taken aback.

“It just happened to be cute. I thought it would go well with our baby.”

Se-hyeon said with a casual smile, holding the frame up in front of her before placing it neatly beside their wedding photo.

“You must be hungry. Let’s go eat.”

With that, he laced their fingers together and gently tugged her along. Ji-an, walking beside him, couldn’t help the bright smile that bloomed across her face.

***

Though the sun had already set, the late July heat was still relentless.

And yet—of all things—Ji-an had been craving hot samgyetang. She ended up sweating buckets as she finished the entire bowl, and afterward, she and Se-hyeon decided to take a short walk near their home.

She’d eaten a bit too much and figured it would help with digestion.

“Are you okay to walk?”

Se-hyeon glanced down at her feet with concern. He was worried that walking might be too much for her now that she was pregnant.

Ji-an was wearing low-heeled sandals.

“They’re comfortable.”

“Even if they’re comfortable… they’re still heels.”

He muttered, clearly unconvinced. His brow furrowed in concern. Ji-an narrowed her eyes playfully, barely holding back a smile.

“Then… will you trade shoes with me?”

Se-hyeon looked up from her sandals, startled by the unexpected question.

“You know, in dramas, the male lead always switches shoes with the female lead when her feet hurt.”

She wasn’t sure where that came from—maybe she just felt like being a little mischievous. She was curious how he’d react.

In truth, the shoes were already well broken in and perfectly molded to her feet. They were easy to walk in, and she’d chosen them on purpose. But still, Se-hyeon didn’t seem convinced.

“Hmm… they might be a bit big on you…”

He mumbled, trailing off as if he were seriously considering it. And just as he began to slip off one of his own shoes without hesitation—

“Wait, wait! Hold on a second!”

Ji-an burst out, flustered.

“I don’t think your shoes would fit me at all. I’d rather walk barefoot than force them on you.”

‘Why is he taking this so seriously?’

Ji-an, who had only meant to tease him a little, ended up being more flustered than anyone. She waved her hands in a panic and shook her head fervently to stop him.

“It was a joke!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Your shoes are size 290. Do you really think they’d fit me?”

Come to think of it, she had a point. If she wore his shoes, they’d be so big she’d probably trip and fall. That’d be even more dangerous.

Se-hyeon hesitated for a moment, thinking it over, then turned to her with a serious look.

“Then I should just carry you instead.”

“Please stop. I’m really fine.”

It took several firm reassurances before Ji-an could finally convince him to let it go. Even then, he still didn’t look entirely convinced.

Ji-an shook her head, half amused and half exasperated.

“You’re really not letting me joke around, are you?”

As they continued walking side by side, Ji-an reached out to take his hand and wrapped her other arm around his.

Feeling her cling to him like that, Se-hyeon glanced down at her. The night air was hot and sticky, and their hands were already slick with sweat, but somehow—walking this close together still felt good.

“One of the things I wanted to do with you….was to just walk like this.”

She’d always envied how effortlessly other couples held hands. They’d spent countless nights in each other’s arms, yet even something as simple as hand-holding had felt so hard for her.

There were times—at events, in public—when she’d linked arms with him or reached for his hand, but her heart would race with nerves.

Now, taking the initiative to lean into him like this made her cheeks flush with heat. She was embarrassed, self-conscious… but thankful the night air would hide her blushing face.

She fixed her gaze straight ahead, forcing herself not to look up at him.

Then, cautiously, she brought up what she’d been meaning to ask for a while.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering… When did you find out?”

“About what?”

“About my brother. What he did.”

Earlier, Tae-hoon had told her that Yoo Jung-ho left Se-hyeon’s office and went straight to see her. The reason was obvious. He must have gone to beg—to do whatever he could to keep his position.

“Hmm…”

Se-hyeon hesitated, trying to figure out how to say it without hurting her.

After a pause, he decided to be honest.

“When you asked for a divorce.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if remembering the moment.

“It was strange—how sudden it was. So I looked into what had been going on. That’s when I found out you withdrew 50 million won and met with Yoo Jung-ho.”

“…”

“And… that your brother met with Yang Jin-hee to get the money.”

In the end, what he meant was clear.

He’d known everything from the beginning.

“Then… if you knew what my brother did, why did you still help him?”

‘You helped him find a job, even got him a place to live. You gave him fifty million won, saying it was to repay the money he borrowed from me. If Yoo Jung-ho hadn’t shown up today, I would’ve gone on not knowing anything.’

The thought alone made Ji-an burn with shame.

“Because I couldn’t see what you were feeling.”

Se-hyeon tightened his hold on her hand.

“I thought I knew you, Yoo Ji-an. Thought I had you figured out. But I didn’t know anything.”

It had been agonizing. She insisted on a divorce without giving a reason, and he couldn’t help but be suspicious. Was it because of Yang Jin-hee? Or was there something else?

She wouldn’t explain. She just kept pushing him away, and it left Se-hyeon lost and frustrated.

“So, I figured… if anyone could help me understand your heart, maybe it would be your family. At least blood should count for something.”

They had slowed to a stop. Se-hyeon gently led her to a nearby bench, sat her down and settled beside her, leaning his back against the wood.

“I was afraid you’d be lonely. After losing your whole family… I worried I hadn’t done enough to fill that space.”

He had made that decision wondering if, maybe, she was acting out because she had no place left to rest her heart. Because she’d lost everyone.

“…Are you upset with me? For turning my back on your brother?”

Ji-an shook her head firmly.

“Not at all. I’m just angry. Embarrassed. I hate the fact that he only ever seems to care about money. It’s pathetic. I just can’t stop thinking: what else is he capable of?”

Lately, he’d been calling her nonstop, and Ji-an had finally blocked his number.

She’d hoped, maybe, just maybe, he’d changed—that he was finally acting like a proper brother. But seeing he was still the same… it hurt.

“Whatever makes you feel at ease—whatever you want, I’ll do it. Just say the word.”

Ji-an shook her head again, this time resting it gently against his arm, looking up at him.

“I don’t want anything. You’ve already done enough.”

The air had felt unbearably hot earlier, but now, finally, a breeze had arrived. A heavy summer wind brushed past, thick with the scent of the season. Mixed in was the familiar trace of him.

Se-hyeon let out a soft laugh, noticing how Ji-an stared up at him, her gaze unwavering.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’ll make my heart race.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against hers. A soft chup. The contact was fleeting, yet real. Startled by the sudden kiss, Ji-an’s eyes trembled slightly.

“I told you to do whatever you want… and I regretted it.”

Se-hyeon began, his voice low, his words a quiet confession. Ji-an stayed where she was, still leaning on his solid arm, listening intently to the steady rhythm of his voice.

“When you disappeared from my side… only then did I realize just how empty that space had become.”

It had only been a few days. Just a handful of days—not long at all. And yet, those brief days had felt longer than all the years they’d spent together.

Everywhere he looked in the house, he thought of her. Of how she used to stand by his side in every room, without fail. He saw her face when she cried, saying it was too hard. He saw her weary eyes when she whispered that she just wanted to stop.

“You’re in every corner of the house… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

That was when Se-hyeon realized it for the first time—he truly loved her. It was a feeling he hadn’t fully understood before. He had been so certain that divorce was out of the question, had refused to even consider it. But a quiet fear crept in.

‘’What if… what if she never comes back?

It wasn’t about Yang Jin-hee. It wasn’t about Yoo Jung-ho. If her heart had simply grown cold toward him—if she no longer loved him—could he really win her back?

His pride, once so unshakable, had turned into deep regret. Then, Ji-an broke the silence.

“Do you know why I agreed to marry you?”

He looked at her, surprised by the sudden question.

“I didn’t have money for the hospital. I was about to be kicked out of my home. I had to take a leave from school. Back then, I was really struggling.”

It was something she had never told him before. And perhaps, there had never been a chance to.

“So when you suddenly asked me to marry you… I was shocked. But honestly? When you said you’d give me money, I was tempted.”

Ji-an let out a bitter laugh.

“My dad was the one who introduced you to me. So I figured… I deserved at least this much. It’s not like I was getting it for free. You needed me, and I was giving you something in return. If marriage was the price, then maybe it wasn’t so shameless after all. That’s how I rationalized it.”

She needed to. Watching him reach out his hand to her, she had to find a reason that made her choice feel justified. It was the only way she could find peace with it.

“But… there was another reason I said yes.”

She added, glancing at him with a faint smile.

“You came to the wake when my father passed away.”

“Ah… that day.”

He murmured, the memory returning to him. He hadn’t been in good condition after the accident, but he went anyway—because it felt like the right thing to do. It was also the day they met for the first time.

“I still remember the jacket you draped over my shoulders. It was so warm.”

The warmth of that moment lingered even now—gentle, wordless comfort. The quiet sincerity he had shown stayed with her.

“I think I thought… if it’s someone like that, maybe I could trust him.”

Se-hyeon looked at her, his gaze softening at the sadness in her expression.

“It was winter back then. And it was winter again when you came back and asked me to marry you.”

They’d already passed through several winters together. Ji-an had also lost her family in winter.

Maybe that’s why. Because winter had become the season of both partings and beginnings.

He had known for some time—since early autumn, maybe—that Ji-an’s mood always seemed to dip during that season. But that was all. No more than silent awareness.

Or maybe, he’d ignored it on purpose—because the life he now had was thanks to her father. Because guilt kept him from asking, from looking too closely.

“So I told myself… if it’s come this far, then maybe we really are meant to be. I think I just wanted to believe that.”

She wanted to call it fate. She needed to. Back then, she hadn’t known how hard it would actually be.

Hearing her quiet confession, Se-hyeon gently cupped her cheek in his palm and met her eyes.

“It is fate.”

Even when he spoke about fate to others, it was more than just a convenient phrase. Se-hyeon had truly believed—still believed—that their meeting had been destined.

“The first coincidence… was your father coming to save me.”

That it was In-hwan who’d come for him the day of the accident. That timing, that moment—he had never forgotten it.

“The second was running into you at that bar, just in passing.”

They’d brushed shoulders after years apart, the moment almost too fleeting to be real. He had just returned to Korea after years in the U.S.—and out of all the places in Seoul, it was there that he saw her again.

“And the third… was that when I needed someone to marry, the person who came to mind was you.”

Ji-an tilted her head with a half-smile.

“That one sounds a little forced.”

“Why? I think it makes perfect sense.”

Ji-an let out a faint smile at his shameless insistence. Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered. It felt as if she were finally being repaid for that time she had once tried to justify as fate when she decided to go through with the marriage.

“With every season that returns… I promise you’ll never feel lonely again.”

Why did her heart ache so much at such a simple confession? Se-hyeon looked at her with eyes full of tenderness.

“Warmer than the coat I once wrapped around you… I’ll protect you so your heart won’t hurt anymore.”

He was determined to do his best—so that she could forget all those difficult days when she’d stayed by his side, alone and hurting.

“Okay.”

Ji-an nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. Then, blushing, she gently rested her head on his shoulder.

The summer-scented wind blew softly past them.

Thanks to his heartfelt confession, she now felt excited about the season for the first time, despite it having always been painful for her since her father’s death, just before autumn began.

She liked the warmth of his hand in hers and held it just a little tighter.

She began to imagine a winter that would no longer be cold, and a spring filled with happiness when they would meet their child.

***THE END***