Chapter 19
“You never know what can happen in life.”
A casual remark that began as small talk suddenly drew the attention of everyone sitting elegantly around the table.
The man who’d managed to capture the interest of this group — who were usually too busy flaunting their superiority — spoke again with a faintly smug air.
“I’m talking about Go Woori.”
It was the name everyone had wanted to mention but hadn’t dared to speak aloud.
For months, those three syllables had been the hottest topic — and even now, they were still burning. All the glances that had been fixed on their glasses now shifted sharply.
Gulp.
Someone swallowed, and that small sound broke the dam — the conversation began to flow freely.
“Honestly, who could’ve expected it to end like that? And at First, of all places.”
“Seriously. I feel nervous every time I get on a plane now. I have a conference in London next week, and I’m already anxious.”
It had been such a shocking incident that Ha Sung Apparel did everything possible to contain it — publicly calling it a simple accident — but everyone really knew the truth.
The perpetrator had been arrested on the spot and would face punishment, but none of that mattered when someone had died.
Tsk.
The man who’d started the story clicked his tongue, then smoothly shifted to the topic he truly wanted to discuss.
“Anyway, this must be a pretty awkward situation for Ha Yoonjae, huh?”
The so-called half of the perennial gossip favorite in this circle — Ha Yoonjae.
After all, he was the man who’d broken off an engagement with the eldest daughter of the nouveau-riche Ha Sung Apparel family — supposedly because he’d been caught cheating.
Of course, no one actually believed it was a real affair, but it made for great conversation.
“Well, naturally. He’s human, isn’t he?”
“Still, his personality’s a bit…”
Those who had fallen for his looks and ended up getting burned joined in eagerly, and the chatter grew louder.
“I mean, on their wedding day, of all days — that’s when it happened.”
“The wedding got completely called off, and the bride collapsed, didn’t she?”
“At least he has some conscience, though it doesn’t really change anything.”
“You never know. Maybe he’s saying that but secretly relieved.”
“Oh, please. As if.”
“Don’t you know Go Woori? Who knows what kind of revenge she’d have planned. In that sense, the two of them were really made for each other.”
“Come on, if she was planning revenge, why would she have been on that plane?”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t be there — I’d be too ashamed to even show up.”
“Alright, alright, let’s stop talking about the dead. The funeral wasn’t even that long ago.”
They had already said enough, but fortunately, the heated atmosphere began to cool.
Perhaps they realized their behavior wasn’t exactly refined or elegant, as they liked to think. One of them raised a glass and tried to steer the mood back to sophistication.
“Let’s drink.”
The room soon filled again with smooth jazz.
Of course, the gossip had already spread far beyond this little circle.
“……”
At a nearby table, Yoonjae sat with an untouched drink in front of him.
His friend, Jang Juho, glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.
“So, how does it feel to hear your own reputation being discussed?”
The man at the center of the gossip — Yoonjae — gave a faint, dismissive snort, arms crossed.
“Not much to say.”
“Still… it must get to you a little, doesn’t it?”
Reading the faint trace of irritation behind his blank expression, Juho tilted his head.
“Wouldn’t change anything anyway.”
A reasonable conclusion, in its own way.
Juho chuckled faintly, then steered the conversation toward their real reason for meeting.
“How’s Joo Aejeong these days?”
The hint of secrecy in his lowered voice made it clear — this was why they were here.
“Still can’t sleep?”
“……Sleep?”
“What, you didn’t know? Aejeong’s been taking sleeping pills regularly. Even got a prescription a few days before the wedding.”
There was no way he could’ve known. In fact, the idea seemed absurd — the woman who always appeared disheveled because she slept too well was taking sleeping pills?
Yoonjae just shook his head without even smirking.
“Well, putting that aside… anything else? Like guilt, despair, regret — that sort of thing?”
Guilt.
As Juho adjusted his glasses, Yoonjae thought of Aejeong.
If it were the real Joo Aejeong, yes — she would’ve felt all of that deeply. Even if she hadn’t been directly responsible, she couldn’t have ignored it.
[“It feels like it’s my fault. How could I not care? It happened on our wedding day. Any decent person would feel the same.”]
That was why she had gone to the funeral.
Yoonjae silently tilted his glass from side to side.
“Hong from our office tried to book an appointment with her, remember? But she canceled immediately. It was supposed to be important, wasn’t it? And she hasn’t been coming to her weekly sessions, either. No calls, no texts — nothing.”
“At all?”
“Not a word.”
Juho shook his head firmly.
Dr. Jang Juho — psychiatrist.
He had earned his PhD at a young age and was a classmate Yoonjae had sponsored through Yeongdo Group.
A “dragon from the mud,” as people said — a recognized doctor in the field, and the only person who knew about Yoonjae and Aejeong’s contract marriage.
“If she’s still unstable — caught between self-blame and self-harm — you can’t just ignore it. You know how precarious her mental state is.”
Juho’s concern was justified. He was the only one aware of how fragile Aejeong truly was.
“……”
Yoonjae narrowed his eyes, swirling the untouched drink.
Finally, he said quietly, “Something’s off.”
“…What do you mean?”
“She’s strange.”
Juho blinked, not immediately understanding.
“You mean worse? Like her condition’s deteriorating?”
“No. Different. It’s like…”
Yoonjae hesitated — which was unusual for him.
“Like she’s a completely different person.”
There was no other way to describe it.
Juho slowly set down his glass, throat dry.
“Explain more.”
At the seriousness in his tone, Yoonjae began to recount everything — how Aejeong had suddenly changed after the wedding, how her behavior was completely different now.
That was the real reason he’d agreed to meet tonight.
After listening carefully, Juho crossed his arms and gave his professional opinion.
“I didn’t see her much, but I remember she was genuinely remorseful toward Go Woori — really tormented by guilt. And her ego was weak even before all this, so stress could easily trigger a defense mechanism. Maybe this is how she’s coping — to survive.”
“You’re saying… her personality changed?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out. I’d need to see her for a proper evaluation, but for now, I think she needs a way to resolve that guilt. If it festers, things could get worse.”
“And by ‘resolve’…?”
“You know Go Woori was laid to rest at the columbarium in Paju, right?”
Yoonjae nodded.
“It might help.”
In other words — take her there.
Yoonjae didn’t answer right away, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his glass.
Reading his hesitation, Juho asked casually,
“What’ll you do when the year’s up?”
It was a question that didn’t really need answering.
“As agreed. As contracted.”
“A divorce, then — and you both move on separately.”
“That’s how it was set from the beginning.”
[“Please… let me escape.”]
That had been the first condition Aejeong set when she proposed the contract.
After a year, they’d divorce citing personality differences, and she’d leave Korea.
He was already preparing for it.
‘Even though she doesn’t seem to care about that now,’ he thought.
But the more she deviated from expectations, the more uneasy he felt.
Letting out a low sigh, Yoonjae accepted the drink Juho offered him.
“When you can, come by with her. Anytime — really.”
Yoonjae nodded silently, finally clinking glasses with him. Just as he was about to take his first sip—
“…?”
As he lifted his head slightly, his eyes caught a familiar face.
Someone was striding confidently through the bar, almost as if a theme song played just for her.
Still in business attire, looking like she’d come straight from work, she didn’t even glance around before taking a seat nearby.
“……What the…”
Completely thrown off, Yoonjae froze, staring fixedly at her.
“What is it?” Juho asked, noticing.
But Yoonjae didn’t answer. His eyes — and mind — were both captured by the woman who seemed to be constructing a whole new world of her own.
Then it got worse.
Clink.
He saw her clink glasses with a man he didn’t recognize — sitting far too close, laughing far too brightly.
Yoonjae’s hand tightened around his glass.
“……”
Sensing something was wrong, Juho followed his gaze — and his own face stiffened.
“What are you looking at so… wait, is that—”
There, unfolding in plain view, was the kind of scene common in bars — but one that absolutely shouldn’t have involved her.
As her body swayed and the man reached out to steady her, Juho quickly warned,
“Director Ha, this could get—”
But before he could even finish,
Whoosh.
Yoonjae was already on his feet, striding straight toward them.
Maybe he’d started moving even before Juho spoke.
Watching him hurry away, Juho’s eyes glinted.
A split-second flash of urgency in his expression and movements —
Sip.
‘So he’s changed too,’ Juho thought, his instincts as a psychiatrist sparking like a flash of light.
