Divorce Contract C133

Chapter 133

Go Igyeol drank quickly, as if trying to drown the awkward atmosphere in alcohol. He downed his first glass of beer in a single breath. When Seo Dohyeon told him to eat something with it, he tore off a small piece of chicken, chewed, and then immediately held out his empty glass again.

Dohyeon, surprised by how well Igyeol was drinking, filled his glass anyway.

Two glasses. Three.

Each time the foam brushed against his lips, Dohyeon refilled the glass wordlessly.

Igyeol took small bites of chicken, then cautiously reached for the salad. He speared a leaf, put it in his mouth, and grimaced faintly before swallowing. Apparently, it wasn’t to his taste. This time, he picked up a cheese ball, pressed it onto his plate, and bit into it carefully.

Dohyeon quietly watched him eat. It felt new — strange but endearing. He was used to seeing Igyeol force himself to eat, always rushed, always anxious. Watching him now, curiously tasting things at his own pace, stirred something warm in his chest.

By the time the chicken in front of Dohyeon had gone cold, Igyeol had finished more than half the bottle of beer.

“Drink slowly,” Dohyeon said.

“…Okay…”

Igyeol wiped his damp lips with the back of his hand and popped the rest of the cheese ball into his mouth. His eyelids drooped lazily, his pale cheeks flushed a soft rose.

He’s drunk, Dohyeon realized, glancing at the half-empty bottle before looking back at him.

“Go Igyeol-ssi.”

“…Yes?”

“Are you drunk?”

“…No, I—uh, I don’t think so… maybe? I’m not sure.”

His words slurred slightly, and his blinks came slower. Dohyeon remembered that he hadn’t seemed to get drunk easily before, at least not on a glass or two of wine — but it had been a long time since he’d had anything to drink. Maybe that was it. Or maybe he’d just drunk too fast. Either way, there was no hiding the faint intoxication that colored his tone and movements.

“You should stop there.”

“I can… drink more. It’s fine. I think… I can finish it.”

His voice trailed, soft and unsteady. He raised the empty glass again, gesturing toward Dohyeon with a loose smile.

Reluctantly, Dohyeon poured another.

As the golden liquid swirled into the glass, Igyeol watched it with hazy fascination, feeling his heartbeat pound faster and faster.

What if it just bursts? he thought vaguely.

“That’s your last one,” Dohyeon said.

“…Why? Why stop now?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“But my heart’s beating too fast. And also…”

He pressed his palm against his chest, frowning deeply.

Alarmed, Dohyeon leaned forward — for a split second, he thought it might be serious, that the man was in pain.

He mentally mapped the fastest route to the nearest hospital, just in case, when Igyeol muttered softly, as if revealing a great secret:

“I want jelly…”

He dropped his head onto the table, eyes glittering as he looked up at Dohyeon.

“Jelly?”

“The really sweet kind. You know, shiny, short ones like this… this big. They’re so sweet. So sweet. Like… sugar… straws…”

He trailed off, struggling to describe it, his mind foggy from alcohol.

“Whatever it is,” Dohyeon said, trying not to laugh, “should I buy it for you?”

“…Really?”

At that, Dohyeon nodded.

For a moment, Igyeol hesitated — then broke into a radiant, utterly unguarded smile.

His teeth showed completely, his eyes curling into soft crescents.

Dohyeon froze. He’d seen him smile before, yes — polite, faint, self-conscious smiles. But never like this. Never something so open and pure it felt like sunlight breaking through a window.

If Igyeol had asked him to die for him just then, he thought he might have said yes.

“…That day, I wanted to buy it too,” Igyeol murmured, “but I didn’t. I thought people would call it cheap junk food. That I should act my age. But it’s really sweet. Really good. You’ve probably never tried it, huh? It’s… ha… it’s so good.”

As if just remembering the taste made his mouth water, he ran his tongue over his lips.

The soft, wet gleam of it made Dohyeon’s breath catch.

He clenched his fist tightly, forcing himself to stand.

“Stop drinking and wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“…Okay. Thank you. I won’t drink.”

Igyeol held out his pinky like a child.

Dohyeon looked down, then hooked his own around it, giving it a light shake.

He told himself he’d grab some hangover medicine while he was out — but even as he thought it, leaving Igyeol alone felt wrong.

“Go Igyeol-ssi. Look at me.”

“…Why?”

“Don’t go anywhere. Just stay put, all right?”

“Home… I’ll stay home. Right here.”

Dohyeon made him promise several times. It still didn’t ease his worry, but lingering would only make it worse. Better to go quickly and come back fast.

He turned toward the door, checking over his shoulder again and again until Igyeol’s figure grew smaller in the distance. His heart wouldn’t calm, even as he stepped out of the villa complex and hurried down the quiet street.

He ran almost the entire way to the convenience store.

Inside, he grabbed every kind of jelly on the shelf — he had no idea which one Igyeol had meant, so he took them all. He paid for the lot along with a pack of hangover pills and rushed back, his breath fogging in the cold air.

By his own estimation, it hadn’t even been five minutes.

Still, he slowed near the door, mindful of the sleeping baby. His footsteps were soft, almost silent, as he walked down the hallway.

When he reached the dining room—

No one was there.

A tall man burst out of the villa.

The kind of man who usually carried himself with calm control — someone you could hardly imagine running — was now striding fast, almost running, toward somewhere unseen.

Leaning against a bare street tree, feigning drunkenness, were Go Heeju and Go Minjun. Their eyes widened when they saw Seo Dohyeon.

They hadn’t expected this. They had come back to survey the area, not to meet him face-to-face.

Heeju quickly slumped harder against her brother.

“Pat my back,” she hissed.

“What?”

“Just do it. We look suspicious standing here. Pat my back. Ask if I’m okay.”

“…Goddamn it. Can’t we just go up and ask to see him? We’re family! We could just ask him to meet us!”

Still muttering, Minjun did as told, rubbing her back roughly while watching Dohyeon enter the store.

When Dohyeon came out moments later, they both stiffened.

“Are you okay?” Minjun asked loudly, exaggerating the gesture as he patted his sister again.

Dohyeon’s gaze brushed over them — once, briefly — before he turned away, walking off without a second glance.

“He saw us! Did you see that?”

Heeju straightened immediately, eyes wide, the fake dizziness vanishing.

“Did he see us?”

“No! I don’t think so—”

“Are you sure he didn’t see us?”

“I mean—probably not—”

His uncertainty made her snap.

“Answer properly, Minjun. Did he see us or not?”

“…No. He looked this way, but only because of you.”

“Because of me?!”

“Well, who wouldn’t look at someone puking on the street? It’s natural, right? He probably just thought you looked pathetic or dirty or something.”

Her expression twisted at his tone — but she realized he was right.

“Fine,” she muttered, linking her arm through his. “I overreacted.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve been more careful.”

The tension between them eased slightly as they walked. Heeju blew warm breath into her hands and said quietly,

“That villa doesn’t have many tenants. I checked earlier. One household per unit — it’s basically like a private house.”

She recited what she’d learned from the real estate listings earlier that day, after dropping their mother at work.

The woman who once refused to walk ten meters without complaining now managed whole bus stops on foot, driven by obsession.

Even after they’d moved well away from the villa, she kept glancing back over her shoulder.

When Minjun complained about his aching legs, she scolded him in a low voice — that they couldn’t risk being overheard by anyone.

He nodded, letting her words sink in, as they kept walking.

“So why’d he move, anyway?” he asked.

“Maybe this place is better. Who knows.”

“I thought he said they were getting divorced. Why’s he still with that guy? Didn’t that Seo Dohyeon make his life hell?”

“Probably found out the baby’s his. That’d explain it. If it were me, I’d take him for everything he had — compensation, alimony, all of it. But that’s not Igyeol-oppa. He’s too nice, too naïve, too clueless. A pathetic idiot.”

Their voices dripped with contempt — but beneath it was envy, too.

They walked, stopped at a convenience store, bought hot canned coffee, and kept going.

“So what’s the plan now?” Minjun asked. “What are we doing next?”

“We wait for the right time. When he’s alone, we ask for help. That’s the best chance we’ve got. You and I will take turns keeping watch nearby. See if he ever leaves the house alone. Learn his routine.”

“What about your job?”

“I’ll quit. Who cares about work? Once we talk to him, everything will be fixed.”

She smiled faintly, pressing the warm can to her cheek.

“See? Once you find even a hint of a solution, the rest doesn’t seem so bad.”

But Minjun couldn’t share her calm.

He knew better.

If life were as simple as she made it sound, their family wouldn’t have fallen apart the way it had.

He stared at the road ahead, weighing the long walk home, and made up his mind to bring something — something that could protect them, or threaten him if needed.

Glancing sideways at his sister, sipping her coffee, he thought grimly that maybe he should learn a bit of self-defense too.

Just in case things didn’t go as planned.