#01.
His wife isn’t answering the phone.
[Ring— Ring—]
No matter how many times it rang, that clear, delicate voice calling, “Jeong-hyuk!” never came.
This had never happened before.
Jeong-hyuk was someone skilled at controlling his emotions.
Never once had he shown personal feelings at work.
Even when he was informed that his father had been swept away by rising creek water while having a secret rendezvous with his mistress at their Gapyeong villa and was now unconscious, his breath hadn’t so much as wavered.
The chief secretary, thinking Jeong-hyuk hadn’t understood the gravity of the report, repeated it—yet his voice remained disconcertingly calm.
“Bring me the Q3 performance report.”
“Sir, the chairman is in critical condition. I think you should go to the hospital immediately…”
“What are you doing? Aren’t we having a meeting?”
But now, that cold, composed gaze was laced with clear anxiety.
He was tapping his index finger on the table, unaware of it.
His entire focus was on his ears.
[The number you are calling is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep…]
As the second automated response played, Jeong-hyuk took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
Was it really that alarming, just because his wife wasn’t answering?
And yet…
Whenever Rin couldn’t pick up the phone, she always left a message.
[Jeong-hyuk, I’m heading into a meeting. I’ll call you after.]
[Someone stopped by. I’m stepping out for a bit. I’ll call in 10 minutes.]
[I’m at the gym now. I’ll call you in an hour.]
Whether she was going to work or the gym, Rin always left a message.
He had told her it wasn’t necessary, but his wife was unusually considerate—so much so that she never wanted to cause anyone worry.
He thought she’d get tired of it eventually. But every time, she sent those messages—sweet and thoughtful.
When had he gotten used to her way of doing things?
Like clothes getting soaked in a light drizzle, Jeong-hyuk was slowly being consumed by his young wife.
“Because we’ll be husband and wife now.”
He never imagined that their contract marriage, made six months ago, would become this serious—or that he would feel this anxious and unsettled.
All because… she wasn’t answering her phone.
He wondered—
Had he made any mistakes with her recently?
But no matter how much he thought back, he couldn’t find any.
…Well, there had been minor issues, but overall, things had been going fine.
Even this morning, Rin had seen him off just as she always did.
“Have a safe day.”
“I’ll come home early today. Let’s have dinner together.”
“Dinner… around what time?”
“About seven.”
Now that he thought of it, her face had seemed a bit somber when she repeated, “Seven.”
“I’ll send the car. Come down around then.”
Did she even respond to that? He couldn’t remember.
He figured they’d be having dinner together anyway.
[The number you are calling is unavailable…]
The third automatic message finally made him end the call. He buzzed the secretary’s office.
Soon, a knock sounded and the door opened.
“You called, sir?”
“Did my family summon my wife today?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“She didn’t go to her family’s place either?”
“No, we’ve had no report from Secretary Seok.”
Suddenly, Jeong-hyuk remembered a recent conversation they’d had in bed.
It had been the night he needed to hold her twice before the craving in him had eased.
He had been holding her from behind, gently tracing the red marks he’d left on her pale, soft skin, when she had suddenly said—
“Jeong-hyuk… just hypothetically.”
“Again with your ‘what-ifs.’ Don’t you get tired of those?”
“They’re fun. So hypothetically… what if I disappeared one day?”
“Where would you go?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be disappearing, would it?”
Rin often liked to pose random, imaginative scenarios like that.
Jeong-hyuk usually hated wasting time with pointless chatter, but for some reason, her habit came off as endearing—and so he’d indulge her.
“I’d find you.”
“How?”
“Any way I could.”
Rin had giggled, as if amused by how serious he was.
“What if I went somewhere you couldn’t find me?”
“Is there even such a place?”
“I guess not… Someone like you probably wouldn’t have any trouble.”
Then, as she idly played with his hand, she murmured—
“Still… if that place existed, and I disappeared… don’t spend too long looking for me.”
“Why?”
“You hate wasting time more than anything.”
He’d dismissed it as just another of her silly “what-if” games. It hadn’t seemed important.
Not as important as holding her once more before the night ended.
So why now did those words cut into his chest like a blade?
Jeong-hyuk stood up abruptly and rushed home.
She might just be in the shower. She loved taking baths—often left her phone outside the bathroom.
But no matter how thoroughly he searched their entire penthouse, every corner of both floors, Rin wasn’t there.
What he found instead was a single neatly placed note in his study, on the pen tray.
“The divorce papers are in the top drawer. Thank you—for everything. I hope you’ll be happy.”
The round, delicate handwriting was unmistakably Rin’s.
“…Ha.”
Jeong-hyuk exhaled sharply, then ran a hand over his face.
His heart pounded like he’d been sprinting, then collapsed, over and over.
He tried to regain his composure.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath—then opened them slowly.
He gripped the note tightly in his hand, then forced himself to let go and slid the crumpled paper into his inner jacket pocket.
“I told you—I’d find you no matter what.”
He whispered, stepping forward.
The anxious flicker in his gaze had long since cooled into steely resolve.
He remembered the day he reunited with Rin.
The atmosphere in the hotel lobby, the slight humidity from the rain outside—and her voice.
“Please stay with me.”
Those moist, light brown eyes that looked directly into his—
Maybe, the moment he saw himself reflected in those eyes, he’d known.
That he would be hopelessly entangled with this girl.
His black eyes darkened further.
He had no intention of letting Rin go.
Only his young wife didn’t yet know—
Just how deeply he desired her.
