My Pretty Husband のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Baekhoon's voice cracks in desperation. "Are you insane? What truth do you desperately need to hear?" I shoot back, equally desperate. "Just say it wasn't you..." He fires back, "I've already told you, didn't you listen?" My frustration boils over. "Tell the truth!" My face burns with shame, the thought of Baekhoon's actions last night unbearable. "Why's your face so red?" Baekhoon mocks, scrutinizing me before bursting into laughter. "What's running through that head of yours? Ha ha ha!" He shoves me playfully and dashes into his room, his triumphant laughter fueling my growing anxiety. -o0o- As I wake up later than usual on this Saturday morning, the warmth of my bed beckons me to linger. But I toss off the covers and begin my routine. After a refreshing face wash and brushing my teeth, I head downstairs, intent on lending a hand to Auntie Yoo in the kitchen. But as I enter the cooking space, I'm met with an unsettling silence. The kitchen's spotless, the lights still d

Within a mere thirty minutes, Baekhoon bursts through the door, his unexpected arrival leaving me completely flabbergasted. The coincidental timing and unpredictable ability to track me down, especially within the sterile confines of the police station, sends my mind reeling. Even more surprising, he confidently claims to be my legal guardian when questioned by the officer, his authoritative demeanor effortlessly defers the tense situation as he assumes control. The officer meticulously recounts the details of our intense confrontation to Baekhoon, who listens intently, his expression transforming into a profound blend of concern, paternal disappointment and calculated assessment. His piercing gaze seems to bore into the very soul of the stranger, as if scrutinizing every motive. Meanwhile, the stranger grows increasingly agitated and belligerent, aggressively demanding substantial compensation for his purported losses. His eyes gleam with avarice as he fixates on Baekhoon’s luxuri

I'm utterly famished after that disgusting cafeteria ordeal, my stomach churning with emptiness from vomiting up everything. Rushing home, desperation fuels my hunger. I hastily rummage through the kitchen, only to find one pathetic packet of instant noodles – our rice is nonexistent, leaving me on the brink of starvation. Baekhoon bursts into the kitchen, his presence sudden and demanding. "Get dinner ready, now!" he asked, his eyes scanning the nearly bare shelves. I swiftly grab what's left, whipping up a hasty kimchi fried rice, the sizzling pan a welcome distraction from the tension between us. "Baekhoon, I really need some explanations," I pressed, interrupting his casual munching. "Were you actually at that party yesterday?" He pauses briefly, then nods nonchalantly, "Yeah." His eyes lock onto mine, his expression unsettlingly serene, devoid of even a hint of remorse or guilt, sending a shiver down my spine. "You swore you wouldn't show up, yet here you are, parading a

"Is there a problem at the company?" I asked, pretending to be a real wife, trying to sound concerned and interested in his life, but it's all just an act. Ugh, I'm disgusted with myself for playing this role.Silence again. I'm forced to be patient once more in the face of this cruel creature, who seems to take pleasure in ignoring me. My frustration boils over, and my hand reflexively slams onto the table. "Hey, Young Master!" I exclaim, trying to get his attention, but he doesn't even flinch."What's wrong with you? What's going on? If I've wronged you, tell me what I did!" I demand, feeling a mix of emotions: anger, frustration, and a hint of desperation. I don't know what to do when he's like this. I feel like I'm in the wrong, even though I know I haven't done anything.He just glares at me cruelly, his eyes piercing through me like ice. I'm not afraid, I glare back at him, trying to match his intensity. The more I glare at him and study his expression, the more I realize that th

I call Baekhoon and ask him to pick me up at the bus stop near the office. I'm not even sure why, but he's the only one who comes to mind. "I can't, I have somewhere to be," Baekhoon said over the phone. "Please, I'm begging you. I don't have any money to get home. My bag was stolen, and my wallet was inside. All my cards are in there, and all I have left is my phone. You should probably block the ATM card you gave me," I explain. "Mm," Baekhoon responds, sounding like he's agreeing. Beep beep beep...The phone call cuts off. Baekhoon refuses to pick me up. Who else can I turn to for help? I'd better call my old friend instead. "Hello, Rina. I’m Lee Yongju.". . . "Oh my God, Yongju, what happened to you?" Rina asked as she arrives beside me. She ushers me into her car, and I'm taken aback by her swift response. I thought she'd ignore me after all these years. "Yongju, how many times do I have to tell you? If you've got a problem, you can come to me anytime. Even if you're dow