Divorce Contract C85

Chapter 85

A faint rustle from the bedroom finally cut through Dohyeon’s long spiral of thoughts. He straightened from the doorway and stepped inside quietly.

Go Igyeol was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, eyes wide and dazed, as if his soul hadn’t quite caught up from sleep yet.

“Are you feeling alright?”
Dohyeon’s voice dropped low, careful.

Igyeol turned toward the sound. His lips were dry, trembling, and for a moment only air escaped them before a whisper finally formed.

“…There has never been a time in Seo Dohyeon’s presence when I have been well.”

The words were flat. Tired. Empty.

It was exhausting—day after day, wondering how misery could keep digging deeper. In the whole long stretch of each day, maybe only an hour or two gave him a break from thinking. The rest was suffocating. Like running an endless marathon with iron chains around his ankles. The road ahead was endless, and part of him wanted to just… stop moving. Stop everything.

“I never intended for us to stay in that house long term,” Dohyeon said quietly. “This place just wasn’t finished yet. I thought a few days would be fine.
…But I was wrong.”

“…Lately, I can’t understand what you want from me at all, Seo Dohyeon.”

His eyes were cloudy, wistful in a way that made him look both young and terribly old.

A man’s heart, his attitude, his whole personality—shifted entirely just because he learned a child was his?
Ridiculous.
And yet… maybe not.

If in two years he could transform into a stranger over one misunderstanding, then what was happening now could barely even be called “change.” Just another turn of the wind.

“Igyeol.”

“You told me yourself,” he said slowly, eyes on Dohyeon’s face.
“Your thoughts change every day. Whether you should keep this broken thing that I’ve become… or let me go. So—what is it today? At what point do you feel the urge to throw me away? When I look pitiful? When I embarrass you? When I’m so miserable you can’t stand the sight of me?”

A small, tired smile flickered on his lips. It barely lasted a second.

He rubbed at his eyes, sighed softly.

“When you said those things, I thought… you meant to take the baby from me. I was terrified. But now I realize that wasn’t your meaning at all. What you meant was:
our marriage can only end if you decide to end it.”

“I never meant to abandon you,” Dohyeon murmured. “How could I ever—”

“Then why is it only me who falls apart?”
His voice trembled, thin and sharp with hurt.
“You walked back into that house like nothing. But for me, even a few days under that roof was unbearable. Every day there was hell. Actual hell. And yet… you didn’t know that. And that—hurt most of all.”

His voice thickened. Not quite crying, but close.

“The more I think, the more I want to die. To die and never return as anything.”

He blinked fast, rubbing a tear from his cheek.

“If my parents in heaven knew I thought this way… they’d be heartbroken.”

That tone—detached, floating, like the whole world was far away—sent cold dread crawling through Dohyeon.
It felt like Igyeol could vanish if he stopped looking at him.

Even knowing physical contact frightened him, Dohyeon reached out and took his wrist.
Igyeol didn’t pull away—he just exhaled, hollow, and spoke again.

“The reason I wanted to have the baby was because…”

His thin fingers brushed Dohyeon’s hand, then slipped away, warmth evaporating instantly.

And in a soft, private voice, he said:

“I once loved you, Seo Dohyeon. That’s why I wanted to give birth.”

Dohyeon’s breath stilled.

“When you said you wanted nothing to do with it, I decided I would give birth quietly and raise the child alone.
But everything is ruined now.”

His brows pulled together, his smile broke into something fragile and aching.

Dohyeon didn’t speak. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes—pain? guilt? fear?

Seeing it, Igyeol gave a small, bitter laugh at himself.

“I swore I’d hide it forever. But I said it now because… I wanted to hurt you. Even a little.”

“…Go Igyeol, I—”

“I regret it.
Loving you.
Mistaking your scraps of pity for affection.
Clinging to them.
Never imagining things would end like this.
No one told me love could wound like this.”

He covered his face with both hands and cried quietly—small, broken sobs.

He felt like a creature born only to suffer.
Living only because he hadn’t yet found a way to die.

When Shin Eunsuk returned hours later, bags in hand, she found him swollen-eyed and Dohyeon heavy with guilt. She clicked her tongue.

“Did you two argue?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?
Better to argue than sit here drowning like this.”

“…Nothing happened.”

At Igyeol’s thin voice, she sighed sharply. Then she turned her glare on Dohyeon, who wisely said nothing.

“You need to eat something. Come.”

“…I have no appetite.”

“We don’t eat because we’re hungry. We eat because we must regain strength—especially if you want to care for Ihyeon properly.”

“…I don’t know, Aunt.”

Dragged to the table, he took the spoon and obediently forced a bite of rice into his mouth.

His anxiety only grew with every passing day.

Would he truly be able to raise Ihyeon?
Would the baby be ashamed of him?
Would Dohyeon be the better parent?

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m capable of being responsible for him.”

“And who gave birth to him?”

“…I did.”

“And in whom did Ihyeon trust enough to come into this world?”

“…Me.”

“Then what else is there to say?”
She sprinkled jangjorim over his rice.
“You don’t abandon a child just because you’re scared. You give everything you can. You raise him as best you know.”

“….”

“You tremble so much, and yet so many stand ready to help. Even that man, lacking though he is. His family too. And did your uncle and aunt not raise you well? Surely they must be good people—though I haven’t met them.”

That was a lie he’d swallowed his whole life.
They hadn’t raised him—they had broken him.

But he couldn’t bear to tell her.
He didn’t want to burden her with the truth.

She caught the flicker in his expression—saw that something was wrong—but decided not to push him now. Later, when he was stronger.

Sensing her gentle avoidance, Igyeol relaxed a little and resumed eating.

“It’s good,” he murmured.

“And you lie terribly.”

“It is true.”

“Eat. This house is beautiful. High ceilings, big windows.”

She looked around, already planning how she would fix every corner whenever Dohyeon wasn’t hovering.

“City houses are lovely. So many lights even at night.”

“…This wasn’t my home. Nights at my old place were quiet. Not bright like this. This is… the first time I’m somewhere like this too.”

“So it is new for both of us. Then rest today. Tomorrow we explore the area. Go outside, walk a little, buy groceries. Keep your mind moving. No time for dark thoughts.”

She would NOT let him sink again.
Not on her watch.

“Now, where are the baby’s things? They must be somewhere around here.”

He nodded faintly.

Once he pushed the bowl away, unable to stomach more, she brightened.

“Oh—I brought jujubes from the village head. Apple-jujubes. They’re delicious. If you like them, I’ll have him send more.”

“…I’m too full now.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

She cleaned the dishes and stepped into the living room.

Only Igyeol sat on the big sofa; Dohyeon had slipped away somewhere.

Absentmindedly, without noticing—

Igyeol lifted his hand and began scratching at his ear.