Divorce Contract C138

Chapter 138

Go Minjun’s expression hardened in an instant. He pried Go Heeju’s hand away from his mouth and met her eyes seriously.

“You really mean we’re leaving now?” he asked.

Heeju nodded. Minjun muttered a curse under his breath and raked a hand through his hair.

“Damn it, your gut feelings are usually right, so I can’t ignore them. Fine. You mean we’re really going to see him now?”

“Yes, now. Something feels wrong. If we stay any longer, I’ve got a bad feeling we’ll regret it. Let’s go — and as soon as we’re out, call Mom too. The more people clinging to him, the better.”

Heeju yanked open their meager wardrobe and pulled out a thin padded jacket. As she changed into something easier to move in, Minjun also began to hurry. He grabbed a hoodie off the floor, threw it on, and zipped up a flimsy windbreaker that didn’t match the cold weather. Then he went into the other room and came back holding something.

Heeju gave him a questioning look, but he didn’t answer, just straightened his clothes and adjusted his hood.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” he muttered.

“Then let’s go. Don’t forget your phone.”

Both of them pulled their hats low and opened the front door as quietly as possible. From outside the gate, it was impossible to see into the sunken basement, which was a small blessing.

When they slipped into the narrow bathroom, the space instantly felt cramped. The sharp smell made Heeju wrinkle her nose. She stepped up onto the toilet seat.

“I’ll go first,” she whispered. “You follow right after me.”

“Are you sure there’s no one outside?”

She poked her head out just far enough to check, then nodded. “No one.”

Bracing her hands against the window frame, she climbed up — but immediately came back down, coughing from the dust. She gestured for Minjun to go first.

He scowled but did as she had done, stepping onto the toilet and pushing himself up through the window. The frame was tight, his body snagging halfway through, but with a rough shove he managed to squeeze out and drop to the ground.

He looked back up, exhaling sharply. “Come on.”

Heeju took a breath and reached for his hand. Minjun gripped hers firmly and pulled as she wriggled through the frame. The dust and grime smeared across her clothes, but she just clenched her eyes shut and kicked her legs until she was free.

They didn’t look back. The moment both feet hit the pavement, they broke into a run, sprinting until they reached the bus stop.

Still brushing off the dust from her clothes, Heeju boarded the first bus that arrived and pulled out her phone, calling Kang Mijin. When the older woman didn’t pick up — she rarely did during work — Heeju left a message and took a moment to steady her breathing.

“You okay?” Minjun asked, watching her.

“I’m fine. More importantly — you think they noticed we left?”

“There wasn’t anyone near that side, so probably not. Unless they actually go inside, how would they know whether we’re gone or not?”

He tried to soothe her as he guided her to an empty seat. She instinctively raised her fingers to her mouth to bite her nails, then grimaced at the grime on her hands and swore under her breath.

She couldn’t even touch her face. Lowering her head, she sighed deeply, over and over.

Just once — please, just this once — let luck be on our side, she prayed.

Even if the sky was gray, maybe today Go Igyeol would finally take a rare walk outside with his child. Maybe they’d bump into him, purely by chance.

She had never been religious, but now she called silently to every god she could think of.

The bus rumbled to a stop at a familiar station — the one where they had loitered for days. The two of them got off with their heads bowed, faces hidden.

If Seo Dohyeon had really noticed them, there were bound to be watchers nearby.

They scanned their surroundings cautiously. Then Heeju’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

“Mom.”

— “Heeju? What is this? What do you mean, come right now—?”

“Mom, this might be our only chance to see Igyeol. Please, hurry. Seo Dohyeon has people watching us.”

— “What are you talking about? How could you even know that— oh, for heaven’s sake….”

Kang Mijin trailed off into a string of weary complaints about her cursed marriage and hung up.

Heeju barely responded, her eyes darting restlessly around. Minjun, uneasy with her nervous pacing, distanced himself so they wouldn’t look suspicious together.

She lowered her head into her lap, mentally counting the minutes it would take for their mother to arrive — twenty, maybe more.

And still, nothing.

She brushed the dust from her pants, thinking furiously. There was no way to call Igyeol out. Maybe Minjun had been right — maybe they needed to sneak in and ring his doorbell.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety.

If this failed, the fragile hope they’d built — the idea that everything would be fixed once they met him — would vanish like smoke.

She pressed her dirty palms against her face.

Then Minjun suddenly grabbed her shoulders, shaking her.

“Noona! Heeju — Heeju!”

She looked up, startled, and saw him pointing toward the road.

And there — finally — was Go Igyeol.

He was hurrying out of the villa with a small man beside him, both of them pale and anxious. The man reached for a baby carrier strapped across his chest, and Igyeol’s face was as white as paper.

“That’s him, right? That’s Igyeol-hyung?”

“Yeah. Oh my god. Let’s go, Minjun!”

Heeju broke into a grin.

Finally.

She jumped to her feet, dragging her brother along. There were others following close behind Igyeol and the man, but it didn’t matter — all she needed was a moment.

A black sedan was parked on the roadside. The man with the baby got in first. Just as Igyeol was about to climb in, his eyes red and watery, Heeju and Minjun lunged forward.

They seized his wrist at once.

“Oppa!”

Igyeol froze. For a moment, he didn’t even see who had grabbed him — just a flash of hands, of voices. His body jolted in shock, a shudder running through him.

Heeju lifted her tear-streaked face, breathless.

“Oppa, it’s me. Heeju.”

“…Ha… ah. Heeju. Yeah, Heeju. Minjun’s here too.”

“Have you been okay? You look good,” she said, forcing a smile despite everything.

Igyeol glanced toward the car, where Kwon Seunggyu was watching anxiously. The man gestured for him to hurry.

“I’ve been fine,” Igyeol said quickly. “But… I’m really busy right now. I’ll come see you later, okay? We’ll talk then.”

The man stepped forward, reaching to free Igyeol’s wrist from Minjun’s grip.

Minjun’s expression darkened. “We’re talking to family here, asshole. Don’t touch him.”

“Let him go,” the man said sharply.

Minjun scoffed. “You should take a hint and step aside. We’re having an important conversation. Hyung, come on — do you really need people guarding you like this? What, are we strangers now? We’re family. We just want to talk, that’s all.”

His voice carried a simmering threat, and Igyeol tensed.

Heeju flicked her gaze toward Minjun, raising her brows.

He caught the signal, exhaled slowly, and softened his tone.

“Hyung, you can’t spare even a few minutes for your siblings?”

“My child — Ihyeon — is sick,” Igyeol said. “We’re on our way to the hospital. Let’s talk later.”

“Hyung, this is important! It’ll only take a minute. You can go to the hospital after—”

Igyeol looked helplessly toward Kwon Seunggyu.

The man had already pulled out his phone, calling someone. “His fever’s high,” he said under his breath.

At that, Igyeol’s expression hardened.

“I’m his guardian. I have to go. I’ll call you later, I pro—ah!”

Before he could finish, Minjun yanked him forward.

It happened too fast for anyone to react. Igyeol stumbled, dragged off balance.

Even Heeju froze for a moment, not understanding what was happening — until she saw her brother pulling Igyeol completely away from the car.

Then, panicked, she threw herself in front of the approaching guards.

Her small body slammed into them with startling force.

“Touch me and I’ll scream! I’ll report you for sexual assault!” she shrieked. “Ah! Don’t touch me! Why are you grabbing me? Help! Somebody help!”

Her voice rose to a piercing wail, drawing every eye nearby.

One of the men cursed and grabbed her wrist, trying to restrain her. She screamed even louder, thrashing like someone fighting for her life.

The guards hesitated, thrown off by the commotion — just as Minjun dragged Igyeol toward the street.

One of Igyeol’s shoes came off.

“Minjun! Let go — let go of me!”

“Shut up! We have to live too!”

“My baby’s sick! Ihyeon’s sick, Minjun — please, let go. I’ll call you later, I promise. Please!”

Igyeol’s face had gone deathly pale. He tried to pull away, but Minjun’s grip was iron-strong.

A taxi, its headlight gleaming white, screeched to a halt right in front of them.

The guards were closing in again.

“Get in! Hurry up, damn it! Get in the car!” Minjun shouted.

But Igyeol didn’t move.