Divorce Contract C108

Chapter 108

By the time Yoon Jaeseon’s worry had ripened, Seo Dohyeon too was lost in the same turmoil. The one who would soon be the subject of every whisper and rumor lay fast asleep, unaware of anything. Once the divorce papers were filed, the shadowy rumors that had long spread below the surface—that he had borne a bastard child—would take shape and torment Go Igyeol. Dohyeon knew the articles would erupt as if waiting for this very moment. He had already prepared press releases and scheduled interviews with the media, ensuring swift response, but even so, the thought of the malice aimed at Igyeol gnawed at his heart.

He exhaled heavily, cupping the softly rounded cheek in his palm. He had sworn not to hurt him anymore, yet it was never so simple. The only consolation was that Igyeol showed little interest in the world’s news. Even if the articles surfaced, he would not seek them out. Moreover, the location of his residence was still unknown; even if it was revealed, by the afternoon Igyeol would be leaving for Shin Eunsuk’s pension. He would not need to face the sudden swarm of reporters.

The sound of his faint, even breaths tickled Dohyeon’s ears. Warmth had risen in his cheeks from the heat of the car, tinting them faintly pink, and his lips, parted to reveal neat teeth, looked utterly peaceful. His face, so delicate it seemed untouched by suffering, at last looked its true age.

Dohyeon lowered the hand that had cupped his cheek and instead laced his fingers carefully with Igyeol’s hands, resting folded upon his lap. Intertwining their slender fingers, he turned once more to stare long out the window. He prayed Igyeol would not wake. Call it pathetic, call it clinging—he could not help it. He held his breath, reigning in every sound of his own, willing Igyeol’s slumber to last.

But heaven did not grant Dohyeon’s prayer. A car exiting the parking lot blasted its horn at a pedestrian—Baaaang! The shrill noise jolted Igyeol awake with a start.

“…Ah…!”

Dohyeon ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached. A violent urge to chase down the car that had honked seized him. Blinking drowsily, still not fully awake, Igyeol turned to him, only then realizing where he was, whom he had leaned against so deeply in sleep. Hastily, as if scorched, he pulled himself away, tugging his hand free as though breaking a hold. He darted anxious glances about.

“Are we here? How long have I—… I’m sorry, I….”

“You must be exhausted after the baby’s discharge. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Dohyeon’s voice was calm as he looked down at the warmth slipping from his hand. He opened the door and stepped out first. Igyeol rubbed his lips with the back of his hand, glancing at the partition that had been raised. Who else would be foolish enough to fall asleep on the way to file for divorce? He berated himself bitterly. He gathered Dohyeon’s coat, reaching for the handle just as the door swung open.

“Careful—step down.”

As if he still half-dreamed, Dohyeon naturally extended his hand. Rubbing his eyes, Igyeol took it. “Thank you,” he murmured faintly. Dohyeon gave the smallest nod.

“This coat…”

“Keep it on.”

“It’s fine.”

They went back and forth, refusal against insistence, until Dohyeon relented and took it back. He slipped on the coat, now faintly perfumed with the lilac of Igyeol’s pheromones released in sleep, and studied him. Those pale brown eyes were fixed beyond Dohyeon’s shoulder, staring at a place he had never imagined he would stand. Now it feels real—my divorce.

“Let’s go.”

“…Yes.”

The thought of walking side by side felt too heavy. Igyeol slowed, keeping a step behind him. Together they entered the courthouse and filed the papers. Dohyeon moved with the ease of one who had done this before. It was only Igyeol who faltered. Contrary to what he had feared, the process was swift. After their divorce intentions were confirmed and the period of deliberation explained, it was over.

Following silently at Dohyeon’s back, Igyeol found himself outside once more. His steps grew slower. The distance between them stretched, until it was wide. Dohyeon noticed the absence at his back and turned.

“Igyeol.”

He strode back without pause, not waiting for hesitation. Seeing Igyeol’s expression, he wanted to demand—Why that face? Why look as though you’re on the verge of tears, as though you still have regrets?

“Why are you standing there like that?”

“……”

“You’ll make people think things, looking like that.”

His face crumpled. Tears welled again, drenching his small face without a sound. Seeing him so pitiful, Dohyeon reached out without even trying to resist the impulse. Igyeol’s frail body was drawn into his arms, and as he closed his eyes, the muffled sobs began to escape.

“I told you—if you do this, I’ll think you still want me.”

“Ugh, nghh… it’s not… not that….”

“I’ll think you can’t bear to part, that you still have regrets.”

His trembling hand barely clutched at Dohyeon’s clothes. Lifting his head from Dohyeon’s chest, his tear-drenched eyes met his.

“I won’t come often. Every time I see you, my own regrets grow.”

“Uh… You don’t… you don’t need to….”

“I know. You don’t want to see me. I heard you’re going to Shin Eunsuk’s pension today. Go safely.”

Moisture clouded Igyeol’s eyes, his lashes quivering as tears curved down his cheeks.

“When you cry like this… I…”

The low voice wavered. Igyeol lifted his lids slowly. Dohyeon gripped his thin arm, sliding down to seize his delicate wrist, pulling his hand against his chest.

“Here. It hurts.”

“……”

“It must be punishment—for the way I treated you like a dog. Now, no matter how I try, I can’t recall you smiling. My memories are nothing but your tears. Always…”

Igyeol bit down hard on his lip, twisting his face. He, too, could not recall any smile. Only the painful moments remained, sharp and merciless.

“And yet… how can I say it hurts, when I see you crying like this?”

“Hhh… I just…”

“If I could, I’d turn back time. To then, to that moment.”

Frowning, Dohyeon brushed the drenched face, his voice trembling.

“I’d hold you. Instead of pressing you, I’d say—there’s nothing to apologize for, because I understand why you chose what you did.”

“Ughh…”

“There were good days between us, weren’t there? Why can’t I remember a single one?”

He soothed Igyeol’s shaking back as he sobbed against him. At last, Dohyeon coaxed him into the car, remaining at his side as the tears would not stop. He pressed a handkerchief into his hand, watching him wipe his wet face.

“You were right—it was me who ruined us. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“I… I won’t forgive you.”

“I never asked you to.”

“I won’t… ever… forgive you.”

“I know. I told you—you don’t have to. You can treat me as badly as I treated you. You’re allowed.”

Igyeol turned his head, pressing his fists to his eyes, then faced the swiftly passing scenery, steadying his breath.

The return drive was far quicker than the way there. The villa drew close, and Dohyeon clenched his fists, the heaviness in his chest growing. He knew—once he let him go inside, he would not see him for some time.

They passed the gate. Igyeol loosened his belt. As the car stopped, he bowed his head. Jaeseon slipped from the driver’s seat, tactful as ever.

“Goodbye.”

“…Igyeol.”

At the sound of his voice, thick with lingering regret, Igyeol’s shoulders trembled. He could not bring himself to look at him, lowering his eyes. Dohyeon’s hand caught his wrist, drawing him easily into his arms once more.

“Take care.”

“……”

“…Take care, Go Igyeol.”

“…You too, sir.”

The changed address—no longer his name, but distant honorifics—felt like his heart dropped through the floor. A sharp pain lanced his chest. He pressed him close, then gently released him.

Igyeol pushed him away and slipped from the car. Dohyeon closed his eyes, watching his back recede through the window. At last he released the breath he had been holding, long and ragged.