Chapter 9. Don't Touch Me With Those Hands

Jaeheon stood in the doorway, staring down at the woman in front of him.

Late-morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows at the end of the second-floor hallway, casting pale rectangles across the polished floor. Behind Seoyun, the guest room was quiet and unnervingly neat.

Only a few open drawers showed that she'd been packing.

The dresses Jaeheon had bought her still hung untouched in the dressing room, arranged neatly by color. Jewelry boxes remained lined up inside the cabinet, and the expensive handbag he'd given her for her birthday was still on the shelf.

None of it had gone into the small travel bag in her hand.

In three years, Seoyun had never looked at him like this.

Even when she was angry, she'd always been the first to back down. Even when he hurt her, she eventually swallowed the pain on her own.

Quiet and obedient.

A woman who would always be there when he came home.

That was what Jaeheon had believed.

"Enough, Han Seoyun."

He reached for her bag, but Seoyun twisted away without hesitation. The bag swung to her other side, leaving his hand suspended in midair.

"You're doing all this just because you heard a few stories about the past from my father?"

Just.

Seoyun almost laughed.

The night before, her husband had kissed another woman right in front of her. This morning, she'd learned that same woman had once been expected to become his wife.

Yet to Jaeheon, all that humiliation amounted to just a few stories from the past.

Seoyun slowly raised her eyes.

"You called her name even when you were asleep beside me."

Jaeheon's gaze stilled.

"More than once."

Even on the rare nights when they shared the same bed as husband and wife, Jaeheon had called the same name in his sleep.

Cha Yuri.

Back then, Seoyun hadn't known who the name belonged to. She'd never imagined that even while holding her in his arms, he had been longing for another woman.

"What are you talking about?"

His answer came a beat too late.

"You don't remember?"

A hollow smile touched Seoyun's lips.

"Of course you don't. I suppose those nights weren't worth remembering to you."

Jaeheon's jaw hardened.

"You're making this into a problem because of something I said in my sleep?"

"Something you said in your sleep?"

"I don't even remember saying it—"

"I was the woman in your arms that night."

Jaeheon's mouth snapped shut.

Seoyun stepped closer.

"I was the one you were touching."

The space between them narrowed.

"But the name you called was Cha Yuri."

This time, Jaeheon had no answer.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

From downstairs came the faint clink of dishes being cleared from the breakfast table. Somewhere farther down the hall, a door opened and closed, followed by the muted footsteps of a staff member.

The mansion carried on with its usual morning routine as if nothing had changed.

But something between them already had.

Seoyun held his gaze for another moment, then lifted her bag and moved to step around him.

Jaeheon caught her arm on instinct.

"Where do you think you're going?"

His fingers tightened as though he had no intention of letting her go.

"You're my wife."

"So?"

"Han Seoyun."

"You can't stand the thought of your wife walking out..."

Seoyun lowered her gaze to the hand gripping her arm.

"But you think it's perfectly fine for a husband to hold and kiss another woman?"

Jaeheon's fingers went rigid.

Seoyun pulled her arm free.

He reached for her again.

"Don't touch me."

His hand stopped in midair.

Seoyun stared at it.

It was the same hand that had gripped Cha Yuri's waist the night before and pulled her against him.

"Don't touch me with the same hands you used to hold and kiss another woman."

She looked straight into his eyes.

"It's disgusting."

Every trace of expression vanished from Jaeheon's face.

"...What?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

Seoyun didn't retreat an inch.

"Don't put your hands on me again."

A muscle jumped in Jaeheon's jaw.

Seoyun said nothing more. She adjusted her grip on the bag and walked past him.

His low voice came from behind her.

"Han Seoyun."

For three years, she'd lost count of how many times that voice had made her stop.

Not this time.

"Han Seoyun!"

For the first time, Jaeheon raised his voice.

It rang down the long hallway.

Seoyun didn't look back.

Her footsteps remained steady as she crossed the polished floor toward the stairs. Morning light spilled through the tall windows, briefly catching the small bag in her hand.

She never slowed.

Jaeheon stood in the doorway, listening as her footsteps descended the stairs one by one.

Then the sound disappeared.

The hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

He spun around.

Bang!

His fist slammed into the wall.

The framed picture hanging there shook violently. The impact cracked through the corridor, shattering the silence Seoyun had left behind.

The skin across his knuckles split. Blood welled along his hand.

He didn't even look down.

His gaze remained fixed on the end of the hallway where Seoyun had disappeared.

One thought crowded out everything else.

He couldn't let her leave like this.

He didn't ask himself why.

Because she was his wife.

Because he couldn't stand by and watch her walk out of his house whenever she pleased.

That was the reason Jaeheon chose to believe.

He turned sharply and strode after her.