Divorce Contract C62

Chapter 62

At Seo Dohyeon’s loaded words, Im Yeonhui pressed her lips tightly together. Step by step, Seo Dohyeon climbed the emergency stairwell as he continued speaking.

“I won’t repeat myself. I’m not divorcing. Don’t go barging in on Igyeol whenever you feel like it. Don’t keep showing him the faces of in-laws with not a single kind corner to them, only to unsettle his heart. Do you understand?”

— How can you say such things? Hm? Haven’t I treated Igyeol so well…!

“Or perhaps, have you treated him that way before too? Seeing the way you’re acting now, I can’t imagine you didn’t.”

— Wh-what? Of course not—no, no! I’ve treated him so—so well.

At his mother’s indignant cry, Seo Dohyeon halted his steps on the stairs and let out a short sigh. Hearing her voice only turned his suspicion into certainty. He could clearly picture how his mother had likely behaved: acting doting and attentive whenever others were around, but treating Go Igyeol carelessly when they were alone. She was a person with stark likes and dislikes. If she liked someone, everything they did was pleasing; if she disliked them, no matter how hard they tried, it wasn’t enough.

The image of Go Igyeol enduring his mother’s character, something Seo Dohyeon had once brushed aside without care, now rose to his mind. Why was it that only now, belatedly, did it start to weigh on him?

“Why did you do it?”

— …What—what do you mean I did?

“Ha.”

Since Go Igyeol’s hospitalization, Seo Dohyeon had hardly managed three hours of sleep a day, and the exhaustion had accumulated beyond bearing. His eyes ached, dry and gritty, and he longed to pluck them out and wash them clean.

“You’ll have to apologize to Igyeol in person for laying hands on him. Come only when I call for you. Don’t come barging in as you please. Do you understand?”

— Are you… are you saying this because I laid a hand on him once? Over a mere misunderstanding…!

“And if, because of that so-called mere misunderstanding, I end up divorcing Igyeol—would you be fine with that, Mother?”

— Wh—how can you say such a thing…!

His low words, thick with the weight of threat, were answered by a shrill, indignant voice through the receiver. Without another word, Seo Dohyeon ended the call. With heavy sighs, he continued climbing the endless stairs.

“Hu…”

As he ascended, thoughts that constantly gnawed at his mind returned. His grandfather’s or mother’s investigators were seasoned and discreet, far more experienced than the private eyes he had once hired. Their inquiry should have been thorough, precise. So how had they arrived at the same conclusion as he had?

Why had they suspected the very same thing? Was it his mother’s impatience that had brought about this mistake? From the beginning she had disliked Go Igyeol; perhaps his supposed flaw had been a perfect excuse to sway his grandfather’s mind.

With the formidable backing of his grandfather, she had spearheaded the preparation of divorce papers, no doubt eager to see it finished swiftly. Perhaps his mother had already known of Igyeol’s innocence. No matter how much they dug, no trace of another man would have been found. Just as he himself had once branded Na Seonwoo as a lover on little more than suspicions and circumstances, so too might his mother have done.

That the paternity test results had not reached Im Yeonhui’s hands first was sheer fortune. The mother he knew was more than capable of tampering with them. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Seo Dohyeon stared into empty space, bloodshot eyes fixed.

His chest felt tight. So then what? As Igyeol had said, what exactly did he intend to do?

His pace slowed as he climbed. Finally he stopped, leaning back against the wall. By contract, their relationship was to end in divorce, the child sent off to some unknown place—no more, no less. They were bound by nothing more than a sheet of paper.

And yet, though he knew this well, he could not let go. Glancing down at the ring on his left hand’s fourth finger, his expression hardened. He did not want to sever ties with Go Igyeol. He did not want to live another day without him. Somewhere along the line, feelings had taken root. He could no longer deny it.

Do you love Go Igyeol?

But as Na Seunghui had asked, it wasn’t a feeling that could be wrapped neatly in such a tender word. At the very least, what he felt for Go Igyeol was far from beautiful.

When he opened the door to the hospital room, the atmosphere was unexpectedly soft. From the far side, hidden by the short corridor, Yoon Jaeseon’s voice chattered on without pause, so absorbed he hadn’t even noticed the door.

“This is a wrist brace. It’s not for holding the baby, but to protect the joints before they weaken.”

“…Ah…”

“They say you must never take off the sleep socks, no matter how warm it gets. Rain or wind can make your bones ache, and without these, you’ll experience that pain thirty years earlier than you should.”

When Seo Dohyeon stepped fully inside, the distance between Yoon Jaeseon and Go Igyeol was far too close. The two sat with assorted items spread across the table: Yoon Jaeseon explaining, Go Igyeol listening intently. On Igyeol’s feet, poking out from beneath the blanket, were thick socks shaped like cat’s paws.

As Seo Dohyeon’s eyes slowly swept over them, Go Igyeol stiffened, having sensed his presence. At the sudden rigidity, Yoon Jaeseon turned, then leapt up from the bed where he had been perched, startled.

“O-oh, you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here.”

The previously warm atmosphere froze over. Hastily gathering the things from the table back into a paper bag, Yoon Jaeseon handed something discreetly to Go Igyeol, as if passing along a secret.

“Have you eaten?”

“He just finished.”

“Manager Yun, you may leave now.”

“Y-yes, sir. Then I’ll be outside.”

Bowing to both Go Igyeol and Seo Dohyeon, he quickly departed. He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet nerves gnawed at him. What unsettled him wasn’t that he feared his superior, but that he feared something might happen to Go Igyeol. Even knowing Seo Dohyeon no longer mistreated his spouse, he couldn’t shake the worry.

Once he was gone, the room filled only with silence. Seo Dohyeon did not close the distance, keeping himself apart as he simply watched. The gaze was uncomfortable, but not unbearable, so Go Igyeol endured it in silence. Then—

“Would you like to see the baby?”

“…Why all of a sudden?”

“Then shall we follow the contract to the letter? No sharing or disclosing any information about the child, as stipulated.”

At those words, spoken while rubbing at weary eyes, Go Igyeol’s shoulders trembled. He had pored over those clauses so often he could recite them by heart: no disclosure of gender, traits, nothing. But now, Seo Dohyeon was saying he had changed his mind, that he would show him the child.

“Do I… truly, do I really get to see?”

“If you say you want to, then I intend to.”

“Then… then I want to. I want to see.”

Desperation shone across his face. The birth had come far earlier than expected, and he had been unable to eat properly throughout the pregnancy. He needed to know with his own eyes that the baby was truly alright. Though Seo Dohyeon had assured him, he had not believed it. Perceiving this, Seo Dohyeon extended his hand. And unlike before, when he would recoil from the slightest touch, Go Igyeol readily reached out. Gripping his hand, he let himself be supported.

“Alright. Let’s go. It’ll be visiting hours soon.”

If nothing else, Seo Dohyeon resolved to use this as a reason to keep him by his side.

His body, still not fully healed, found even the short descent of a single floor exhausting. His breath came short with every slow step, but driven by the singular determination to see his child, Go Igyeol pressed on.

Before the neonatal intensive care unit, a sudden flood of tears overcame him, and he sobbed quietly. Scrubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands until they turned red, he donned the gown handed to him by a nurse and once more leaned into Seo Dohyeon’s support.

From the entrance onward, incubators lined the room. With each one he passed, Go Igyeol’s chest clenched tighter. His gaze flitted quickly, searching—his child must be among them.

“This way. For the first two weeks after birth, they monitored in the main ward. But the baby improved greatly, so we moved to another spot.”

Following the nurse’s guidance, Go Igyeol’s eyes fixed unerringly on one incubator. Inside, an infant slept on its stomach, a diaper hanging loosely around its tiny frame. His hand trembled uncontrollably. Shaking so much it was painful to watch, his hand finally rested upon the glass of the incubator.

“The baby’s weight has returned to the birth weight, and it’s taking formula, little by little.”

Tears pooled in his large eyes, then spilled down his cheeks, falling in heavy drops. Go Igyeol wept openly, unable even to wipe the wetness from his chin. His tear-drenched eyes took in his child.

“Uhh, hhkk, hhhuhh…”

“Though your baby may look small, Mother, it’s growing much better than expected. There’s no need to worry too much.”

Staring at the infant sleeping on its stomach, eyes closed, Go Igyeol hardly blinked. Through the entirety of the short visitation, he only cried. And the moment he left the unit, he collapsed, sinking down at once. Covering his face with still-trembling hands, he sobbed soundlessly, shoulders heaving.