Divorce Contract C82

Chapter 82

Against all of Igyeol’s fears, Aunt Eunsuk didn’t leave.
She smiled gently and asked if she should stay.

“…Really… you would stay?”

“I want to see little Ihyeon get discharged with my own eyes. I want to hold him. How beautiful must he be? He’s already so precious just to look at.”

“For me… that’s everything. I couldn’t want more. I only… I worry I’ll trouble you, Aunt. I… I don’t have tact. I never know what’s proper…”

“What child has a kinder heart than you? And being quick-witted too? Tell me—who dared plant such foolish thoughts in your head?”

She didn’t need an answer.
It was obvious.
Only one person in his life had ever taught him to belittle himself.

“…It’s not that…”

“Throw those thoughts away. Do you hear me? Any man who’d say such things has no sense in his skull. Don’t carry those words anymore. I’ll be back before your discharge with things you’ll need. I’ll bring ingredients too.”

“I’ll eat anything you make, Aunt. You don’t have to bring anything.”

“The real trouble is cooking with ingredients that aren’t your own. Bringing mine makes everything easier.”

She brushed his hair back to look at the healing ear.
It hadn’t returned to its old delicate shape, but the swelling had gone.
His stitched hand was healing too.
Even the cheeks he’d lost had filled in slightly.
Slowly, painfully, the beauty in his face was returning.

“You see? With good food, you’re becoming fair again so quickly.”

“…You’re teasing me, Aunt.”

Calling him fair felt like mockery.
His reflection was still blurred, ruined.
He couldn’t even look directly into mirrors—he feared he’d see that decayed, monstrous face again.

“I’m not teasing. It’s the truth. Only you can’t see yourself.”

At her gentle teasing—you don’t know how beautiful you are—he managed the tiniest smile.
Even if it wasn’t truth, affection softened everything.

As he gazed at her, his eyes shifted—toward Dohyeon, still staying far away.

“Then… when will I be discharged?”

“This weekend.”

“…Alright. Then so be it.”

He dreaded going back to that place—more than nightmares.
But he wouldn’t be alone.
So he told himself he could endure it.

The ride home was suffocating.

Yoon Jaeseon kept glancing at him through the mirror—
Igyeol couldn’t hold still.
His hands shook violently.
His eyes were squeezed shut.
His whole body radiated tension.

Maybe it was a mistake not to let Aunt Eunsuk ride with him.
Both Jaeseon and Dohyeon realized that too late.

The closer they got to the house, the darker his mind became.
It felt like the blood drained from his arms and legs.
His vision dimmed.
He was horribly close to fainting.

“Go-ssi, what is it?” Dohyeon asked.

His eyes darted wildly past the window—
the familiar roads, the walls, the gate growing closer.
His heart was screaming: Run. Jump. Escape.
Every old landmark tightened the terror around him.

“I… I—hhu, hhh…”

“Are you hurting?”

“Ah—hhhk…”

His hand reached out helplessly—then dropped.
Clinging to Dohyeon would only make the terror worse.

He opened his mouth to say he couldn’t go in—
and immediately, a voice ripped through him:

Do not make a fuss.

Dohyeon’s voice.
Sharp.
Piercing.
Not faint this time.
Not distant.

“…What?”

Was that real?
Was it imagined?
Was the look in Dohyeon’s eyes concern… or irritation?

He couldn’t tell.
His mind couldn’t draw the line anymore.

“Go-ssi—”

The moment broke him.
He shook violently, pressing his hands to his ears, eyes squeezed shut.
The harder he tried not to hear, the louder Dohyeon’s voice stabbed through him.

I’m afraid.
I can’t go in.
That house is a nightmare.
I don’t want to.
I can’t—

He curled up, muttering apologies over and over.
Even Jaeseon’s face paled as he watched.

Jaeseon slowed the car and pulled over beneath the tall wall.

“Just—just a moment. Please.”

“If you truly can’t enter, tell me now. Should I take you back to the hospital?”

The car quieted.
Its engine went still.
So did Igyeol.

He dropped his legs to the floor, hugging his freezing hands to his chest, gasping for breath.
If he said he couldn’t enter—what would Dohyeon say?
Would he snap again—Enough. Stop this. ?

Sweat dripped from his hairline.
He wiped his forehead with shaking fingers.

“Igyeol.”

“P-please… just a moment. I… I will get out. If you wait, I will. I’ll go in. I’ll enter…”

He didn’t even know he was crying.

Dohyeon watched him, air caught in his throat, trying and failing to understand.

This was the house they had shared.
Lived in for years.
How could it terrify him so?

“Can you stand?”

He nodded weakly.
Dohyeon exited first.
While he circled the car, Igyeol tried desperately to calm himself.

It’s fine.
The baby is safe.
Only the baby matters.

The door opened.
Tear-filled eyes lifted toward him.

So long as the baby is safe, nothing else matters.

And again—Dohyeon’s voice echoed in his head.
Maybe real.
Maybe not.

Grief rose like a wave.

“I’ll hold you. Don’t be startled,” Dohyeon said.

“…I—I truly…”

“Igyeol.”

“I’m just—so tired… Everything hurts. Nothing is okay. I hate that house. I hate it. I’m not well. Why—why do you say it doesn’t matter? Why…”

The words hit Dohyeon like a blow.

The house wasn’t a home.
It was hell.

Igyeol wiped his tears with shaking hands, glancing at Dohyeon’s unreadable expression.
Then he resigned himself.

Crying changed nothing.
Hating the house changed nothing.
This was the man who told him his opinion didn’t matter.
Of course the house meant nothing to him.
But to Igyeol, it was trauma etched into every wall.

“I—I’ll get out. Just don’t touch me. Please… don’t.”

“…My thoughts were shallow. I assumed, foolishly… that it was our home…”

The moment he said our home, Igyeol’s face twisted.
He stepped out without touching the offered hand.

But before he reached the gate—
his legs buckled.
He collapsed like a fallen leaf.

“Igyeol!”

Every time Dohyeon hurt him, Igyeol told himself to endure—for the baby.
But this once, crushed by fear, he only wanted to disappear.

Lurking near the house, Go Daesik watched everything.

His eyes widened.

Something was really wrong.

Im Yeonhui had told him there’d been a “misunderstanding” about the child.
He had shouted, “Of course!”
She’d given him money to keep quiet—money he’d gambled away in a few days.
But he hung around anyway, sniffing for an opportunity.

And now he saw it:
Something had fallen apart between them.

They kept him out of the hospital—
but fate brought him here.

Perfect.
Golden.
A divine opening.

He rubbed his hands together, craning his neck to peek past the gate.

Strange—
Dohyeon wasn’t acting high and mighty.
And Igyeol looked far worse than right after giving birth.

Had Dohyeon done this to him?
Probably.
Who else?

The kid was fragile.
Easy to push over the edge.

Daesik’s smile sharpened like a blade.

He finally had his chance.