Divorce Contract C76

After they’d eaten most of the meal, it was fruit time. Shin Eunsuk peeled apples and pears with quick, practiced hands, slipping each soft slice straight into Go Igyeol’s mouth.

“If you’re full, stop eating, alright? Forcing it will only upset your stomach. I also brought plum syrup—want me to mix some for you?”

“I’m fine. I don’t feel sick.”

“It’s not for when you feel sick. It’s so you don’t feel sick later.”

“…Then I’ll drink it.”

He swallowed a piece of apple and nodded. Eunsuk mixed the plum syrup in lukewarm water and handed it to him. He finished it in a few gulps, letting out a relieved breath as he leaned back.
Meanwhile, she tugged off his thin hospital socks and pulled thick wool ones over his ankles—soft, warm, halfway up his calves.

“It’s warm.”

“When you hold the baby later, remember to wear the wrist brace. Your wrists won’t survive otherwise.”

“…He looked so tiny and light…”

“Don’t be fooled. Babies are deceptively heavy. People warn you for a reason.”

Igyeol nodded like he was memorizing every word. Eunsuk placed a roll of bandage on the table, wondering if she could make him eat a bit more, but his bright eyes were already drooping.
For the first time in forever, Igyeol felt the warmth of being full. No matter how hot they kept the ward, it had always felt cold—until now.

“My poor boy’s getting sleepy.”

“…Don’t go.”

“If I leave, you’ll feel lonely, won’t you?”

“…It’ll make me sad.”

His soft voice was soaked in fear. She straightened the messy table and adjusted the bed, but kept holding his hand. His thin fingers loosely held onto hers, and she didn’t want to let go either.

“Your ears… they’re in terrible shape.”

Clicking her tongue, she removed the gauze and gently fanned the damaged skin. The sight made her stomach twist. Half of her wanted to drag Seo Dohyeon over and scream at him immediately.
The other half thought she should wait—wait until Igyeol was ready to talk. If he didn’t want to say it, why hear it from someone else?

“Hu, hu.”

She took his hand, opened his palm, and blew gently over the bandaged wound. Even tiny gestures like that helped.

“What horrible things have you been through, my child…”

Seeing him so thin—after all the meals she used to make him finish—her eyes burned. She tucked the blanket around him tightly and silently wished a lightning bolt would drop straight onto Seo Dohyeon’s head.

That night, Igyeol woke again and again, each time checking to make sure Eunsuk was still on the guardian’s bed. She promised she wouldn’t leave—but fear didn’t care about promises.

He shared his leftover meal with her. She helped him wash up, treated the raw skin around his ears from tossing and turning, cleaned and dressed the wounds. She worked like someone who’d been doing this for years.
Dohyeon, clumsy and awkward with the gauze, got pushed aside instantly.

“The gauze is to stop him from touching the wounds.”

“I would prefer if you stayed outside when I’m here. It’s uncomfortable. And what kind of man drags computers and paperwork into a sickroom? It’s chaos.”

“Igyeol, your meals—”

“We ate just fine. Don’t worry.”

Eunsuk’s rejection of him was absolute.
And beside her, Igyeol’s head finally felt quiet. She was like a fortress—nothing Dohyeon said or did could reach him while she was there.
He clung to her clothes like letting go would cause the world to collapse.

“I want to walk a little. Isn’t there a garden here?”

“There’s an outdoor garden on the next floor up. You can go.”

Dohyeon answered instantly, still packing his papers into a briefcase. Eunsuk ignored him, pulled a cardigan from the wardrobe, and helped Igyeol into it.

“The weather’s good. The rain stopped. Let’s get some fresh air.”

“…We’re allowed to go outside?”

His voice was so soft, but Dohyeon still heard. He looked up, watching them.
It was true—since Eunsuk came, Igyeol had improved. But he still couldn’t look at Dohyeon.

“Go. Just… don’t stay out too long.”

The concern was followed by a muttered, petty comment under his breath. Eunsuk clicked her tongue sharply.

“As if we don’t know how to take care of ourselves.”

Dohyeon said nothing. Eunsuk wrapped a handkerchief around Igyeol’s neck.

“But… what month is it now?”

“……”

His sudden panic made her grab his trembling hand immediately. She turned to Dohyeon with a glare that could kill.
Avoiding her eyes, he told Igyeol it was September—and that he’d been in the hospital almost four weeks.

“…September already.”

“The rain cooled things down a bit, but it’s still warm. Come, let’s go.”

Igyeol nodded and looked out the window at the clear sky. Finally, he thought—finally he could see autumn again.

Dohyeon watched silently. In just one day with Eunsuk, Igyeol no longer clawed at his ears, no longer needed gauze changed constantly, no longer tore at his hands until they bled. His gown was clean.
And most miraculous—he smiled. Often.

“Do you want the wheelchair?”

“…No. I want to walk.”

“If you get tired, promise you’ll tell me.”

“Yes.”

Hand in hand, they stepped out of the room.
Dohyeon didn’t answer their goodbye. He swallowed even the sting of being forgotten—because he believed he didn’t deserve to feel anything about it.

In the garden, they walked a single loop before resting on a sunny bench. The short walk left Igyeol winded. She patted his back gently and held his bandaged hand in her lap.
They sat quietly for a while—the breeze cool, the sunlight warm.

“Igyeol.”

“Yes, Aunt.”

“How did this happen? What accident in a hospital could do this to you?”

He looked down at his wrapped hand, sighed, and spoke.

“…Seo Dohyeon didn’t want a child.”

“……”

“So I was always careful. But I ended up pregnant anyway. And knowing he didn’t want it… I didn’t tell him. I ran. I thought it was the right thing. I wrote to you because he wouldn’t think to find me there. I thought it would be safe.”

Her eyes never left him. Her hand never moved away. She gave him all her attention.

“There were misunderstandings. He got angry. I tried to explain, tried to fix it, but nothing worked. Nothing ever reached him. It hurt so much, but I kept thinking—it’ll pass. It’ll get better. But why—why does it never pass? Why am I always stuck in the same place?”

“Igyeol…”

“I kept looking for the reason. Why everything turned out like this. And all of it—”

He lowered his head onto her hand. After a long silence, he whispered:

“All of it is my fault.”

That fragile smile crushed her.
To see him with nothing—no safety, no place to rest, not even someone to blame—smiling when all he wanted was to cry… it was too much.

“My hands don’t even hurt. Not at all.”

She gently pressed his exposed fingers through the bandage.

“How could any of this be your fault? He is responsible too.”

“……”

“If he hated the idea of a child so much, he should’ve been more careful. You didn’t create that baby alone. Why do you think all the guilt belongs to you?”