“What is this?”
Every expression vanished from Taejun’s face.
“Why is this coming out of your bag?”
Seoyoon couldn’t say a word.
Of all things.
Why did that have to be sitting on top of all those documents?
Taejun’s gaze dropped to the floor again.
Application for Confirmation of Intent to Divorce by Mutual Agreement.
The words were impossible to misread.
Taejun bent down.
“No.”
Seoyoon reached out a moment too late.
The document was already in Taejun’s hand.
His eyes moved slowly over the paper before stopping at one place.
Husband: Kang Taejun.
Wife: Han Seoyoon.
And beside both their names were their signatures, stamped neatly in a row.
Taejun’s brow slowly furrowed.
“Divorce.”
His low voice fell into the hospital hallway.
“Were you planning to get a divorce?”
Seoyoon bit her lip.
It was already too late to hide it.
Mrs. Kang hurriedly stepped in.
“Taejun, that—”
“Mother.”
Taejun’s gaze remained fixed on Seoyoon.
“I asked her.”
His voice was calm, but that only made it feel more suffocating.
Seoyoon closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them.
“Yes.”
Only then did Taejun’s eyes waver ever so slightly.
“We were going to get a divorce.”
“Why?”
“That’s…”
Seoyoon couldn’t easily continue.
Where should she even begin?
That they had both been exhausted.
That he had stopped coming home, and she had stopped waiting.
That after three years of marriage, they had become worse than strangers living under the same roof.
And above all else,
that he was the one who had brought up divorce first.
Taejun, having lost his memory, stared only at her with a face that knew nothing.
Seeing that face, she found herself strangely unable to speak.
“Personality differences.”
In the end, Seoyoon chose the safest answer.
Taejun’s brow twitched.
“Personality differences?”
“Yes.”
“You get a divorce over one reason like that?”
“You get a divorce because it isn’t just one reason.”
Seoyoon’s answer came out a little sharper.
Taejun was silent for a while.
Then, looking down at the document in his hand, he asked,
“Who brought it up first?”
Seoyoon’s fingertips went rigid.
Mrs. Kang hurriedly cut in.
“Why does that matter right now? You were even in a car accident.”
“It matters.”
“Taejun.”
“Because the wife I remember…”
Taejun looked at Seoyoon.
“…and the wife in this document are completely different.”
Seoyoon nearly let out a disbelieving laugh.
The wife I remember?
When exactly was the Han Seoyoon he remembered?
“How much do you remember?”
Seoyoon asked.
Taejun thought for a moment.
“When we hadn’t been married long.”
“Exactly when?”
“A few months after our honeymoon.”
Seoyoon’s heart dropped.
Of all times.
It had to be the happiest period of their lives.
The time when Taejun called her every evening after work,
bought her gifts even when he was only going on a business trip,
and, even on days when he came home after working until dawn, woke her up and insisted they eat together.
The Kang Taejun of that time had been an entirely different person from the Taejun standing before her now.
No.
Maybe the Taejun standing before her now was the real Kang Taejun, and the man she had known over the past few years was the one who had changed.
“Then, in your memory…”
Seoyoon said bitterly,
“we must have been happy together.”
“There would have been no reason for us not to be.”
His answer was so matter-of-fact.
Seoyoon ended up laughing.
It was a short, hollow laugh.
“Right. We were.”
“Then why—”
“Stop.”
Seoyoon cut him off.
She didn’t want to explain any more here.
Not in the hospital hallway.
Not in front of Taejun’s mother.
Most of all, it was unbearably humiliating to lay out every detail of their married life by herself when the person involved didn’t remember any of it.
“I’m overwhelmed today, too.”
Seoyoon picked up the rest of the documents from the floor and put them in her bag.
“We’ll talk later.”
“Ms. Han Seoyoon.”
“And give me that document.”
Taejun didn’t hand it over.
“Kang Taejun.”
Only then did his gaze reach Seoyoon.
“What?”
“It’s mine.”
“My name is on it, too.”
He had a point, which only made her more irritated.
Seoyoon held out her hand.
“Give it to me.”
Taejun looked down at her hand for a moment.
Then he folded the document in half.
“What are you doing?”
He folded it in half again.
“Kang Taejun.”
Then he slipped it into the pocket of his hospital gown.
Seoyoon’s mouth fell open in disbelief.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’ll keep it.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a lot of questions.”
“Will taking it solve anything?”
“At the very least,”
Taejun said indifferently,
“you won’t be able to submit it right away.”
Seoyoon narrowed her eyes.
This man.
Losing his memory hadn’t changed his personality, apparently.
If anything, his strange stubbornness had only gotten worse.
“Hand it over.”
“No.”
“Hey.”
Just as Seoyoon took a step toward him in exasperation, a nurse came running from the direction of the hospital room.
“Mr. Kang, you shouldn’t be walking around yet.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. The doctor said you need to rest.”
“We’re just talking for a moment.”
“Then talk in your room.”
The nurse firmly took Taejun by the arm.
Reluctantly, Taejun turned around.
Even then, he didn’t take his eyes off Seoyoon.
“Let’s go home.”
“What?”
“When I’m discharged.”
Seoyoon’s face hardened.
“I meant that we should live together.”
Taejun said it plainly.
“I have no intention of taking it back.”
“I told you I didn’t want to.”
“You haven’t answered yet.”
“I just did. I said I don’t want to.”
Only then did Taejun’s mouth close.
A moment later, he asked,
“Do you hate me that much?”
Seoyoon couldn’t answer.
She watched Taejun’s back as the nurse led him away, then slowly lowered her gaze.
Did she hate him?
That one question lingered strangely in her chest.
She had hated him.
She definitely had.
She had hated that he never came home.
That whenever she asked if something was wrong, he ended the conversation by saying he was tired.
That he forgot their anniversaries.
That even as they drifted farther apart, he made no effort to hold on to anything.
That was why she had planned to get a divorce.
But…
Looking at the man he was now, saying she hated him just as much somehow felt like something else entirely.
“Seoyoon.”
Mrs. Kang’s voice brought her back to herself.
“I’m sorry.”
Seoyoon looked up.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“For what happened to him, and…”
Mrs. Kang hesitated for a long time, as if carefully choosing her words.
“I know how hard things have been for you.”
Seoyoon didn’t answer.
“Still, just for a few days.”
It was what she had expected her to say.
“Couldn’t you stay with him for just a few days?”
Seoyoon’s lips went stiff.
“Mother.”
“I’m worried about leaving him alone all of a sudden after he’s discharged. He doesn’t remember anyone else. Not even me.”
“But he recognizes you.”
At those words, Seoyoon lowered her eyes.
Of all people, he remembered only her.
More precisely,
he remembered only the time when he had loved her.
It was a cruel way for things to be.
Taejun was discharged sooner than expected.
He had no major external injuries, and the tests revealed nothing unusual.
The only problem was his memory.
The doctor said it might naturally return with time.
Don’t put him under stress.
Don’t force him to recall anything.
If possible, have him live in familiar surroundings.
In the end, Seoyoon had heard only the things she least wanted to hear.
And two days later.
Seoyoon let out a deep sigh as she looked at the man standing in the middle of her living room.
“You really came?”
Taejun had set his suitcase beside him and was looking around the house.
“It’s my house.”
“It’s our house.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It’s not.”
Instead of answering, Taejun slipped on the slippers placed in the entryway.
The sight was so natural that Seoyoon was momentarily speechless.
Of course it was.
This was the house he had lived in for three years.
He had simply come home less often than he’d gone to a hotel over the past six months.
Taejun slowly looked around the living room.
The sofa.
The table.
The painting hanging on the wall.
Then his gaze stopped at one wall.
Seoyoon followed his gaze.
It was their wedding photo.
She had left it there because she’d been too lazy to put it away.
The two people in the picture looked impossibly happy.
Taejun slowly walked over to it.
“This.”
Seoyoon tensed.
“Is this our wedding?”
“Yes.”
“That’s strange.”
“What is?”
After looking at the photo, Taejun turned to Seoyoon.
“You look exactly the same.”
“I’ve aged a little.”
Seoyoon was momentarily at a loss for words.
Then a quiet laugh escaped her.
“Did you just laugh?”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
The way he narrowed his eyes slightly was exactly the same as before.
So exactly the same that Seoyoon’s smile vanished at once.
Taejun seemed to notice the change as well and silently looked away from the photo.
“Which room is mine?”
“That one.”
Seoyoon pointed toward the end of the hallway.
Taejun pulled his suitcase over.
After a few steps,
he stopped.
“What?”
“There are two bedrooms.”
Seoyoon’s expression stiffened.
Taejun opened the door to one of them.
Inside was a neatly made bed and a few of his clothes.
And across from it,
Seoyoon’s bedroom.
They were completely separate spaces.
Taejun slowly turned to Seoyoon.
“Did we…”
After a brief silence, he asked,
“sleep separately?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“For quite a while.”
Taejun’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Here we go again.”
“I’m asking about something I don’t know.”
“Stop asking questions for today.”
Seoyoon was about to enter her room when Taejun’s voice came from behind her.
“Ms. Han Seoyoon.”
Seoyoon stopped.
“I was curious about it at the hospital, too.”
“About what?”
“Who brought up divorce first.”
That question again.
Seoyoon closed her eyes.
Could she avoid it this time, too?
It was something he would eventually find out anyway if they were going to live under the same roof.
She slowly turned around.
Taejun was standing in the middle of the hallway.
Seoyoon said,
“You.”
Taejun’s eyes wavered.
“What?”
“Divorce.”
This time, Seoyoon didn’t avoid it.
She looked him straight in the eye.
“You were the one who brought it up first.”
Only Seoyoon’s voice echoed through the quiet house.
Taejun’s face slowly hardened.
He looked as though he couldn’t believe it.
“I was?”
“Yes.”
“I told you…”
Only after a long moment did he continue.
“I told you I wanted a divorce?”
Seoyoon didn’t answer.
Her silence was answer enough.
Taejun let out a short breath.
Then he shook his head as if he couldn’t understand.
“That can’t be right.”
A sharp ache went through Seoyoon’s chest.
Taejun looked at her.
There was genuine bewilderment in his eyes.
“I…”
he said quietly.
“I love you this much.”