TCE09

TCE

Chapter 9

Taste of Revival

We were drowning—far beyond self-loathing—into the abyss of unspeakable despair.

I had died.

Trapped in a dark room with the lights off, I buried myself in endless confusion, searching up everything I could about myself and the criminal. I sat motionless on the bed, listening to the news that told my story.

“…The suspect, surnamed Choi, has multiple prior fraud convictions… and has a history of heavy drug use…”

“Meanwhile, the victim, Miss Ko, was the eldest daughter of a famous brand family and considered highly promising…”

The perpetrator had been caught at the scene, and in an unusually swift ruling, it was reported he’d be sentenced to life in prison.
But none of that brought any comfort.
I couldn’t find solace in anything, not when the horrifying truth loomed over me—

I had died.
A fate too cruel to be dismissed as simple misfortune.

“What did I ever do to deserve this? Why me?”

In those few days of crumbling beneath unspeakable pain, realization came from the most unexpected source: a peach, peeled and offered by Mrs. Kim.

“Please… have some.”

Truthfully, I was severely allergic to peaches. A mere touch would send me into anaphylactic shock. I had always stayed far away—even from canned peaches.
But that day, worried by my refusal to eat anything, Mrs. Kim brought me one.
And the moment I saw it, my mind snapped.

I shoved it into my mouth—reckless, maybe even with the desire to die all over again.

But instead of dragging me to death, that single bite transported me to something closer to heaven.

“Delicious.”

The tangy flesh burst with sweet juice. Its texture—crisp at first, then melting into softness—rolled across my tongue.

That small, vivid sensation turned the taste of death into the flavor of life.

As I swallowed both the peach and the tears threatening to spill, a clarity struck me.

The one responsible for this disaster? Only one person fit.

“That psycho.”

Sure, I didn’t have fond feelings for Ju Aejeong and Ha Yoonjae, who’d caused that infamous breakup scandal.
But they weren’t the cause of my death.

And it wasn’t karma for anything I, as Ko Woori, had done.

No—the moment I met that lunatic, I was doomed. My life had ended the moment I closed my eyes in fear, unable to breathe.

But here I was—still breathing, even if in another person’s body.

“Here’s the real question then—”

“How do I live from now on? And what happened to the real Ju Aejeong?”

Click.

I clicked my tongue and stared into the mirror.

“Hey… are you in there?”

Looking at this face that was starting to feel too familiar.

Fundamental questions churned in my head, but I shoved them aside.

She accepted this bizarre situation far more calmly than expected.

‘Anyway, I’m still alive. That’s what matters.’

That was the conclusion we arrived at.

Of course, that didn’t mean the issue was resolved. The tangled mess inside my chest hadn’t unraveled. I still didn’t know what to do next.

The way I devoured food like someone starved wasn’t out of joy—it was probably a defense mechanism.
Eating filled the gaping emptiness inside.

Though my heart still clenched tight at times—painful enough to make me wince—

“I can’t stay like this any longer.”

I didn’t want to hide away anymore.
Didn’t want to be that pathetic, sorrowful wreck.
Didn’t want to cry—it was humiliating and infuriating.

Because I’m Ko Woori.

And it was with that newfound resolve that she faced Yoonjae.

“Thought you ran away from home.”

He looked every bit the type of man I used to swoon over.

‘Husband.’

What a strange word. No matter how often I said it, it never felt natural.

Marriage was something I’d never even imagined for myself. So naturally, a more primal question came up:

What does it mean to be married?
What did Ju Aejeong and Ha Yoonjae see in each other that led to this decision?
And as husband and wife, what are we even supposed to share going forward?

Staring at him in a flurry of tangled thoughts, I let out a sigh.

“Hoo…”

Yoonjae, catching my gaze, let out a short breath and turned his back.

Crunch. Crunch.

Not satisfied with cereal and milk, he now munched on it dry like a snack.
I followed him to his study, watching his chewing mouth from the doorway—somehow irritated.

For someone usually calm and composed, it was rare to see him emotionally rattled.

Still, regaining his composure, he spoke.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

His hand loosened his tie—his fatigue evident.

“It’s nothing serious. Just a question or two.”

“Make it quick. I don’t have time.”

“Um…”

Setting the cereal bag down, I cautiously began.

“I don’t even know if I should be asking this.”

“Then don’t. Leave.”

“Hey, give me a second to warm up! Don’t be so petty.”

He scowled at my half-hearted teasing.

This really was strange. The time for suspicion had passed, and so had my curiosity. Still, something gnawed at me.

He stepped closer.

“Three.”

“Huh?”

Another step.

“Two.”

“Wait—what?”

And the final step.

“One.”

“What are you—”

Startled, I instinctively backed up and clung to the bookshelf.
Yoonjae reached for the door to shut it.

“Wait, wait! How far are we allowed to go?”

Before he could shut me out, I grabbed his hand on the doorknob.

He paused.

I slipped into the study before he could stop me. I wasn’t leaving until I got my answer.

“What does that mean?”

He asked. I fiddled with a hardcover book nearby, pretending to be casual.

“I mean, even if it’s a contract, we’re adults… so I was wondering.”

“Be clear. Stop dancing around it.”

“Are we going to sleep together?”

There. I didn’t even sugarcoat it.

“Thought it’d be good to know where we stand.”

Embarrassed, I rubbed my cheek and turned away—my fingers brushing the bookshelf.

‘Was that too blunt?’

Too late for regrets now.

Yoonjae, caught off guard, silently undid his tie.

Instead of rebuking me for the suddenness, he rolled with the strangeness.

“So, what is it that you really want to ask?”

“Nothing specific, really…”

I awkwardly scratched my cheek.

“I just wanted to know if our future conversations would only be… verbal. Or also, you know… physical.”

Turning slowly from the shelf, I found him already standing close—like a deeply rooted tree.

Looking down at me, he fired a direct question:

“You want me to do my husbandly duties?”

My eyes widened. Nerve endings flared in my head.

There was something sensuous—and clearly provocative—in that tone.

“No, that’s not what I meant—”

I tried to escape, but he stepped forward and braced a hand on the bookshelf.

Thud.

The shelf rattled slightly as my back hit it.
His steady gaze was intense enough to make me momentarily dizzy.

“It’s not in the contract.”

“…”

“But it’s not forbidden either.”

Now that… sounded exactly like something a scam artist would say.

‘Oh, Aejeong. Poor, naive Ju Aejeong…’

Should’ve added more clauses to that contract.

As I clenched the front of my clothes, he glanced down at my hands—just briefly—and smirked.

“If you want it, I’ll give it to you.”

“Do you?”

The way he said it, dry and almost emotionless, held no sincerity.
And yet, the teasing seduction laced in that monotone voice stirred something—a sinful flutter and electric tingle.

I nearly nodded.
Not from curiosity—but instinct.

But reason pulled me back just in time.

With effort, I calmed myself and raised my head.