Chapter 3: A Sweet Falsehood

“Husband?”

Seohee murmured, eyes wide, as if the word didn’t quite register. Her hands remained resting on her belly.

Lee-hyun’s pitch-black pupils obsessively scanned her stomach—unchanged from before she disappeared.

Ha. Lee-hyun let out a hollow breath.

It was a child. The one thing you wanted at the very end… was a child.

His mouth felt parched, caked with grit. Unable to breathe properly, he pressed hard against his Adam’s apple.

It didn’t matter if she only wanted a child who resembled him, or if she intended to use the child as an excuse to stay by his side.

A child, you say. A child that resembles both you and me.

His black pupils deepened, saturated with color. Lee-hyun curled his lips upward.

I will never let you go again. I won’t even let you leave.

I’ll weave us together, tight, from head to toe. And then, just like the night embroidery across the sky, I will color you, little by little.

Your heart, your body, and if I wish, your soul as well.

Seohee.

Lee-hyun’s eyes shone with a piercing, intense light.

“I… so, you mean, we are married?”

Lee-hyun raised his left hand toward her as she looked on in confusion.

Lee-hyun, who hated wearing anything on his body, never wore a ring except for official events where he had to attend with his spouse.

Seohee would occasionally part her lips as if unsatisfied, but she never said a word, and Lee-hyun repeated the same habit over and over.

But after Seohee disappeared, he hadn’t taken the ring off a single time.

No, he became pathologically obsessed with the ring. He acted like a madman, as if it were the only thing connecting him to her.

“Chief Jung.”

At Lee-hyun’s call, Seung-ho promptly handed over the paper labeled ‘Marriage Registration.’

Lee-hyun’s gaze settled on the names—Yoon Lee-hyun and Jin Seohee—written side by side. The neat, rounded handwriting belonged to Seohee.

Every year on their wedding anniversary, Seohee had placed a marriage registration form on his desk. She had filled it out completely with her name and personal information.

The registration form she had left on their fifth anniversary was different from the others. For the first time, Seohee, who had always recorded only her own details, had filled in Lee-hyun’s information as well.

As if signaling it was the last chance, Seohee had reached out her hand to him once again.

I should have done it sooner.

Even though they had done everything a married couple could do—touching, tasting, and intertwining—Lee-hyun had stubbornly refused to register the marriage, using the excuse that he would eventually let her go.

He had held on firmly, knowing full well it made Seohee’s existence miserable. Yet, he had still attended every couple’s gathering with her.

He had deluded himself, thinking that while he maintained a relationship that was nearly a common-law marriage, he at least wouldn’t make her a ‘divorcee.’ Looking back now, there was no bigger bastard than him.

Even so, after Seohee vanished, he had rushed to the district office like a madman. He had registered it in a panic, as if this piece of paper could act as the tether linking the two of them.

Once a bastard, always a bastard. His obsession with Jin Seohee coiled deep within his heart.

Handing the document to Seohee, Lee-hyun gave a dry chuckle.

To think that the ‘gift’ she brought for their reunion was being used to prove the bond between them.

“Why… now…”

…you came.

Seohee’s voice trembled. At the end of her faintly scattered words, Lee-hyun gripped his fist.

“I’d like to transfer you to a different hospital first.”

At Lee-hyun’s words, Seung-ho moved quickly.

“I will consult with the attending physician.”

Lee-hyun, who had been nodding as if it were a matter of course, suddenly realized and stopped Seung-ho with a gesture.

“Ms. Jin Seohee.”

Flinch. Seohee moved her shoulders, startled at hearing her own name.

“No… Seohee.”

I should have called you that more often when you begged me not to draw such lines. Lee-hyun bit his lip and spoke softly.

“I’d like to move the hospital to Hanseo. What do you think?”

His gentle tone held a subtle strength—implying he wouldn’t force it if she didn’t want to, but that he hoped she would comply.

“Hanseo… City?”

“The place we used to live.”

The place we used to live. Hanseo City. Seohee slowly blinked, mulling over Lee-hyun’s words in a small voice.

Finally, Lee-hyun began to lure her, discarding his usual coercive habits.

“You hate it when things are this noisy, don’t you?”

No matter how quiet they tried to be, it was a six-person ward. Between the daily living noises and the chatter of strangers she had no need to know, it was a difficult place to rest properly.

“…….”

Seohee stared up at Lee-hyun blankly. He took a step closer. He slowly leaned his upper body down to meet her gaze.

“And there’s no room for pregnant women.”

Lee-hyun scanned the old building and the beds crammed together, declaring that it was impossible for such a hospital in the countryside to have such a facility.

At the same time, he gently stroked the back of Seohee’s hand, where a needle mark remained, as if he were deeply worried.

“I…”

Seohee lowered her gaze and began spinning the ring on her finger.

The habit she has when she’s worried is still the same. Lee-hyun watched this quietly, then slowly covered the back of her hand with his.

“It’s swollen. Your hand.”

It must be uncomfortable, yet you’ve managed to keep the ring on. Even after she stopped playing the violin, Seohee had worn the ring on her right hand out of habit. Lee-hyun naturally moved it to her left hand as he spoke.

“Because your hands often swell up at night.”

Lee-hyun paused for a moment. One eyebrow arched diagonally.

“……I used to switch it for you like this.”

It was a lie. Even while watching her spin it round and round every time, he had never once put the ring on her left hand himself. Even though he knew it would fit perfectly, as that was the hand it was sized for.

Lee-hyun let out a muffled laugh at his own natural behavior. The confusion that had colored Seohee’s eyes settled into calmness.

If before, her eyes held deep suspicion—Can I trust this man?—now they reflected a realization: If he can do this so naturally, we must be close.

Sensing her mood, Lee-hyun tilted his head toward Seung-ho, as if he had received an affirmative answer.

“If the doctor says it’s okay, can we move, honey?”

I’ll do whatever you want. Lee-hyun lowered his body until he was almost kneeling. With his head tilted way back, he looked up into Seohee’s wavering eyes.

Just give the command, Seohee. I’ll do everything for you.

As if to swallow up all the lingering confusion and anxiety, he looked intently into her pupils while caressing her hands.

***

To show results as quickly as possible and return to the Gayun Group, the most efficient method was to utilize J International.

J International was a semiconductor company that possessed the technology Gayun needed at the time. Lee-hyun had intended to secure his position at Gayun by making massive investments in J International.

However, while he was finalizing the investment plan, an issue exploded at J International.

The owner, Jin Tae-sik, was suspected of industrial espionage.

Before the charges were even clarified, CEO Jin Tae-sik took his own life, and the company went into a steep decline.

While the Gayun Group hesitated over the merger, Lee-hyun seized the perfect timing to wedge himself between them.

He proposed a daring investment amount, and from J International’s perspective, there was no reason to refuse.

After all, since the YH Group was an international investment firm to begin with, there was no need for them to be merged into the Gayun Group as long as their capital needs were met.

Lee-hyun demanded one thing as a condition for the investment: marriage to their only heiress, Jin Seohee.

Because what he absolutely desired was not the shell of J International, but the shares owned by Jin Seohee.

Jin Seohee’s aunt, Jin Hee-young, forced Seohee to stay after Jin Tae-sik’s funeral when she had been planning to return to Germany. And she spoke as if giving an order.

There is only one way to revive the company your father left teetering on the brink due to his industrial espionage scandal.

Lee-hyun had scoffed at the mention of ‘industrial espionage,’ but that was all. He didn’t cut off Jin Hee-young, who was packaging her reasoning so convincingly.

Seohee had been observing him with clear, blank eyes, hardly listening.

Feeling her gaze—which had lingered on his pitch-black eyes—shift toward his hands, which were idly stroking a water glass, Lee-hyun wiped his Adam’s apple with his free hand.

Did she say ‘I will, I’ll marry you’? Then, without hesitation, she had covered his hand with hers.

Lee-hyun was the one who had chosen this marriage, but Seohee acted as if it were she who had chosen Lee-hyun.

“Seohee.”

Lee-hyun called her name in a low voice.

Please, this time as well.

Hold my hand.

Go with me.

Pfft. Lee-hyun swallowed a light laugh and let his face fall onto the back of her hand.

Say just one word.

Just one, single word.

Seohee.

If that’s too hard, just nodding your head is fine, too.

Lee-hyun, who had been tracing the veins raised on the back of her thin hand as if to memorize them, eventually kissed the back of her hand.

Just like a dog obeying its master.