Divorce Contract C111

Chapter 111

“Step outside.”

At the cold dismissal, Yoon Jaeseon bent his back deeply in a bow and turned away. The instant the door closed behind him, Seo Dohyeon set down the papers in his hand. Pressing his aching eyes, which stung each time he blinked from dryness, he leaned back into the chair. A long sigh escaped him.

These days, Dohyeon ended each night near the pension where Go Igyeol was staying. He would park his car at a spot where he could clearly see the house, sit there until dawn staring at the darkened windows, and only then drive away. His sleep was shattered; even if he managed to doze, nightmares plagued him so constantly that it was less exhausting not to sleep at all.

Rubbing his eyes with his palm, Dohyeon pulled his phone from his pocket when it gave a short buzz. At once, he rose, grabbing his jacket and keys in haste. Without bothering to tidy his desk, he strode out of the Executive Director’s office. At the sight, Jaeseon, who had been working at the front desk, scrambled up in alarm to follow.

“Executive Director?”

“I’m leaving. Cancel all of this afternoon’s appointments.”

“…Pardon? All of them? Is there some urgent matter—did I miss a message I should have checked for you?”

Trailing him into the elevator lobby, Jaeseon pressed the button, speaking cautiously. Dohyeon shook his head. The reason for his abrupt departure was the message he had just received from the guard stationed near Igyeol. A photograph had been sent—and in it, Go Igyeol was crying.

“I’m going to Go Igyeol.”

“…Sir? If you leave so suddenly like this—”

The elevator doors slid open. Ignoring the stunned Jaeseon, Dohyeon stepped inside and jabbed at the close button impatiently. For some reason, the doors seemed unbearably slow today. His phone buzzed again in his hand—another photo, still of Igyeol in the same spot, still weeping.

“Can you even drive yourself right now? Shouldn’t I—”

Before the aide could finish, the doors shut. The elevator descended swiftly. Jaeseon scratched his forehead in frustration, staring at the swiftly changing floor numbers. He had no way of knowing why his superior was rushing off, but if Dohyeon’s face was that drained of color, then something had clearly happened to Igyeol. The trouble was, it was impossible to predict what.

Dohyeon sped from the parking garage, the roads clear at this in-between hour, no traffic to slow him. He was on the highway in moments, eating up the distance. A drive that should have taken over an hour from Seoul to Shin Eunsuk’s pension took him barely fifty minutes.

As soon as he parked at the entrance, he was out of the car, checking the message that pinpointed Igyeol’s location, then moving quickly in that direction. The air, chilled by the nearby mountain, bit at his skin.

At the end of the trail, he found Igyeol, huddled on the ground, body drawn in tight. Dohyeon let out a faint sigh and hurried forward. Sensing movement, Igyeol turned, his eyes widening in shock to see him. Staggering to his feet after crouching too long, he swayed, and would have fallen pitifully had Dohyeon not caught him.

His eyes and cheeks were red and swollen from long crying in the cold wind. Dohyeon asked nothing. He simply slipped off his coat and wrapped it around Igyeol’s shoulders, then unwound his scarf and tucked it around his bare neck.

“…Again…”

The hoarse words slipped through reddened lips, wet with tears. Lifting his gaze to meet Dohyeon’s, Igyeol’s lips trembled. “Is someone… watching me?” he murmured. Dohyeon nodded. He no longer wanted to lie. He admitted there were people stationed to keep close watch over him.

“Then why… why is there no one here? Why?”

“…Because I was afraid.”

“….”

“Why are you crying? Why are you like this?”

At his low question, more tears spilled from Igyeol’s eyes. Biting at his swollen lip, Igyeol shook his head, sobbing. I don’t know. He didn’t know why he was like this. Everything he had wanted had come to pass, he had his child with him, he should have been happy—yet tears came unbidden.

The father who tormented him was gone. Im Yeonhui, who used to visit only to wound him, was no longer a threat. Even Seo Jeongjae had spoken words of understanding. And now even Dohyeon stood before him, seemingly steady. Only he was not normal. His eyes, brimming, shut tight, and then poured out fresh tears.

More and more, Igyeol found himself weeping without reason—even while living ordinary days, even gazing at his baby. The babysitter had told him this was common, the sort of postpartum depression many mothers faced, but it gave no comfort. He knew the root cause of his sorrow was none other than Seo Dohyeon.

“Every time you apologize… does it ease your guilt? Does it make your heart feel lighter?”

“….”

“Then why, when I accept it, why don’t I feel even a little better? Why do my memories stay sharp, not blurred at all?”

The pride of having protected his child had thinned, and what remained… was the sight of the wedding band. On Dohyeon’s finger it still gleamed, unchanged, while his own had been cast aside long ago, shoved into the depths of a bag he no longer even had. Dohyeon, though, still wore his. Why? Why did he cling to it, why did he keep unsettling him?

“I regret it. I wish I had never married you.”

“Igyeol—”

“I should never have signed that contract. I should’ve just torn it up instead. If I had… if only I had—” His words broke into sobs.

He had known marriage to Dohyeon was his only escape from Go Daesik, and still he blamed him. He told himself he had known it would end like this, that one day he would even regret giving birth to Seo Ihyeon. The thought cut him deeply.

“I told you I didn’t want it, that it was wrong, that it felt strange… and you said it was fine! You said it was fine, when I never wanted a pregnancy—when I, just like you, never wanted a child—!”

His eyes flew wide, his hand clamped over his mouth. Breath ragged, choking, he seemed about to suffocate. Dohyeon seized him into his arms.

“Why… why did you make me say these things? Why—what did you do to me? Why did you—why, when I, I ended up—ended up with Ihyeon—”

Every time he held the baby close, he was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. His heart would race, his spine would chill, and then it felt as though all the blood drained from his body. The baby was so beautiful, even her breathing was precious—and yet, at times, Dohyeon’s face flickered across her features, and then he wanted to let everything go, to disappear.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Dohyeon whispered the words over and over as Igyeol beat at him with weak fists, trying to push him away. His voice, close to his ear, drained the last of Igyeol’s strength. The fists fell limp against his chest.

Could he ever understand what it felt like—to look upon his child and see, in the same instant, the torment of the past? Was he truly sorry? Truly in pain? Or was this an act, something he showed only to Igyeol? Did he have some hidden motive?

Doubt gnawed at him endlessly. Perhaps, just as he had once used him to slake his ruts and lust, this too was only to satisfy himself. Perhaps, during the waiting period, he had found no replacement yet, and so clung to him still. The thought froze Igyeol’s wet face in realization.

“…Ah.”

If that was all it was, then once it was resolved, Dohyeon might never come again. Seizing his hand, Igyeol pulled him roughly.

“Come inside.”

Thankfully, Shin Eunsuk was out. Had she seen them enter together, questions would have followed. Crossing the yard, Igyeol opened the door. Even then, Dohyeon, dragged along by that frail grip, felt his mind might burst with confusion.

The instant they stepped into the warm, familiar space, his senses swam with the scent he had longed for. As soon as he bent to take off his shoes, Igyeol’s hand went straight for his tie. Dohyeon caught his wrist in shock.

“Igyeol. What are you doing?”

“Isn’t this why you came? Because you wanted sex?”

“…What?”

For once, Dohyeon’s face betrayed his emotions plainly. He looked truly shaken. His steady eyes quaked as if struck by an earthquake. Blinking through tear-filled lashes, Igyeol spoke again.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? If that’s it, then… just do it.”

 

NOOO pls not that this is not the right time