Divorce Contract C53

Chapter 53

At the sound of Seo Dohyeon’s voice, a small hand flinched. The hand that had been on the back of his own palm and wrist twitched as if itching to scratch, but catching the weight of that gaze, it only clenched into a fist. Seo Dohyeon, seeing Go Igyeol give the faintest of nods, turned away without saying anything further.

Exchanging a few more words with Yoon Jaeseon and roughly tidying up the table, Seo Dohyeon left the hospital room. Go Igyeol cast a sidelong glance at Yoon Jaeseon, who was standing there awkwardly, then fiddled with his phone. Being alone with his secretary felt awkward, but not unpleasant. That was a small relief, perhaps—at least with him, he didn’t feel the crawling itch that came every time he heard Seo Dohyeon’s voice.

“You can go ahead and make the call.”

“…A little later….”

Looking at Go Igyeol, who seemed worn down in just a few days, Yoon Jaeseon let out a sigh so subtle it barely showed. Scratches carved deep and raw across his nape were clearly visible. On his pale skin, they looked all the redder. On top of that, a square gauze patch was affixed to his ear, though how he had injured it, Yoon did not know. Seeing the faint tinge of blood seeping through, he suppressed another sigh.

“I heard you haven’t eaten. Would you like something now?”

“…No. I’m just… not hungry yet….”

As he said this, Go Igyeol’s hand drifted to the gauze covering his ear. Even though Seo Dohyeon wasn’t there, he kept hearing his voice. That voice that once scolded him to stop eating so much, asking if he were ravenous. It made laughable his earlier thought that being with his secretary was better—Seo Dohyeon’s voice still echoed in his ears. He wondered why he could hear it so vividly in a completely different place, in a completely different situation, and scratched at his itchy ear.

“You probably shouldn’t scratch there.”

“…Huh? Ah… yes. It just itches… But, Mr. Yoon, you don’t hear it, do you…?”

“Sorry? What was that? Did you say you’d eat?”

“…Ah, no. Never mind.”

“If you’re hungry, please let me know.”

Standing in the middle of the room, unsure where to sit, Yoon Jaeseon hesitated before finally moving. Offering a stiff, awkward smile to Go Igyeol, he sat down on the sofa. He tapped his toes on and off the floor, checked a few emails on Seo Dohyeon’s laptop—which he had been told to use if needed—and made a few brief phone calls.

At the office, he was always frantically busy, but in the hospital, all his work came to a halt. That must have been his superior’s doing. Still, spending time alone with his superior’s spouse, whom he barely knew, was uncomfortable for both of them.

Yoon Jaeseon felt awkward and uneasy, while Go Igyeol had already adapted even to such discomfort and passed the time without a flicker. It seemed the day would end quietly, with no incidents—until Go Igyeol’s phone rang.

Frowning at the ceaseless phantom echoes of Seo Dohyeon’s voice, Go Igyeol, who had been staring blankly out the window, lowered his gaze to the neatly placed phone. When he saw the name on the screen, his eyes briefly sharpened.

“Please, go ahead and answer.”

“…Yes.”

Clutching the phone, Go Igyeol hesitated before pressing the call button and raising it to his ear. On the other end was his father, drunk out of his mind, bellowing as if it had been ages.

“Hello.”

— Go Igyeol? Igyeol, is that you? Finally picked up, did you? Huh? Why the hell is it so impossible to get you on the phone? Are you avoiding my calls?

“…Have you been drinking?”

— Yeah, I’ve been drinking. What, a father can’t have a few drinks and call his son? Huh? Or what, is it because I’m not your real dad? That it offends you?

At the awkward question that cornered him, Go Igyeol denied it and quickly pressed the volume button to lower the sound. He could feel Yoon Jaeseon’s eyes on him. The moment their gazes met, he turned away in a hurry, but it seemed Yoon was focused on the conversation.

“…What’s the occasion?”

— Does a father need to schedule an appointment to call his son? Hm?

“……”

— Since I couldn’t reach you at all, I tried whenever you crossed my mind. And today—finally—you pick up. All this time, what, were you so damn busy avoiding me?

There were loud, smacking noises. Perhaps he was eating as he talked, but the wet, grinding sound of food between his teeth was stomach-churning.

— Even Seo Dohyeon doesn’t answer my calls. Huh? My son won’t answer either. What the hell.

Just like the time he had called asking for a golf club, Go Igyeol figured this call too must have some ulterior motive. He wished he would just spit it out and be done. But Ko Daesik only circled around.

— What, your dad calls and you don’t even ask how I’ve been? You rude brat. So, in the end, I’m nothing to you, is that it? How come you never once call first?

“…Have you been well?”

— Now that’s better. How’ve I been? I’ve been terrible. Miserable, really. Life’s no damn good. My pockets must be cursed, ‘cause no matter how much I earn each month, it all leaks away.

“……”

His voice grew louder, as though they were finally getting somewhere. With not a shred of shame, Ko Daesik came straight out with it.

— Give me some money.

“……”

— Talk to Director Seo. Get me about four hundred million won transferred. Hm?

“…Why are you… doing this to me?”

— This time I’ve got solid info! Straight from the securities firm! I’ll double it and return it to you. So go butter up Director Seo! You’re good at that, aren’t you?

“What are you saying, how could I ask Seo Dohyeon-ssi something like that…. And what investment are you even talking about? Please, come to your senses.”

For a moment, Go Igyeol forgot Yoon Jaeseon was there, his reply coming out thick with tears.

— Hey, who said I’m asking for a handout? I said I’d double it! And what’s this, telling your father to come to his senses? Did I raise you to talk back like that, with no respect? I told you, ask Director Seo! This is why they say raising someone else’s kid is useless. I spoiled you more than my own blood, no wonder your stepmother’s had it up to here with you!

“……”

— Cat got your tongue? Yeah, I figured. Every time I bring that up, you shut your mouth, don’t you? ‘Cause even you have some shame. So go get the money from Director Seo! The sooner I invest, the bigger the profit! At least then I’ll earn some damn interest! You half-wit, this is why I told you to hurry up and have a kid and settle down! What the hell have you been doing all this time!

Perhaps because of the midday drinking, Ko Daesik’s tongue was looser than usual, spilling words that even sober he might have thought twice about. All he did was rant and threaten.

The hand holding the phone trembled violently. From Go Igyeol’s posture, his nervous glances, and his occasional faint replies, Yoon Jaeseon was able to guess what his father was asking for.

“…I’m hanging up.”

— I won’t wait long, you hear? The more you delay, the more money I lose! Got it? It’s time you started being a filial son. Let me finally see some return on raising you! Didn’t I do enough for you, raising you up so fine?

“……”

— All right, I’m done.

The call ended abruptly.

Staring blankly, Go Igyeol lowered the phone from his ear. The call had lasted seven minutes and forty-eight seconds, filled only with unreasonable demands. He never understood why every time he heard that phrase—Do you know how I raised you?—his mind went utterly blank.

His hand fell limply onto the bed. Why had Seo Dohyeon given him the phone, forcing him into a conversation he hadn’t wanted? Why not give it to him earlier, when he had begged for just one call? Why wait until now?

Resentment welled toward the man not present, though he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, and he let it go.

“Would you… like to eat something?”

Yoon Jaeseon, gauging the atmosphere, finally asked. Startled at the sudden voice, Go Igyeol’s shoulders shook.

“…I think… I’d rather just sleep. I’ll eat after I wake up.”

His answer was muttered in a voice so drained it carried no strength. Yoon Jaeseon agreed, though the truth was he was worried—he had been eating so little. He had given birth, so surely he should be nourishing himself. Even he, a single man, knew that much—yet it seemed only the patient and his superior did not. They had said they would move the room, but still hadn’t.

“If you’re cold, should I adjust the temperature…?”

“…I’m fine… but if you’re cold, you can adjust it. Don’t mind me.”

Go Igyeol replied weakly, then burrowed deeper under the blanket. Yoon Jaeseon wondered if the blanket wasn’t far too thin. Once he started noticing one thing, everything became bothersome—the bare feet poking out from the blanket, the blanket itself too thin.

They said after giving birth, even thick socks were necessary. Listening to Go Igyeol’s fragile breathing, he began searching for essential postpartum care items.