TPYH 03

Chapter 03

“I can divorce you…”

At those words, a dry laugh escaped from Haryeong’s delicate lips.

Throughout the countless hells she had endured, Baek Jooheon had never once shown any intention of setting her free.

Even knowing full well that she was trapped in Baekya’s prison, he had never once reached out beyond the bars.

And now… divorce?

At the very least, the day after their child had died, a husband should never utter such words to his wife.

Biting her lips tightly, Haryeong responded calmly:

“You make it sound as if it’s for my sake.”

“Of course, it’s for you.”

Cold night air seemed to settle over Jooheon’s face as he spoke the lie without hesitation. His already icy eyes now looked like frozen crystals that would never melt.

Normally, she might have turned away by now, but Haryeong continued to stare at him intently, as if inspecting him.

Even a heart of iron would seem warmer than his.

Perhaps taking her gaze as a willingness to continue the conversation, Jooheon stepped closer to the bed. Then, in his endlessly dry voice, he informed her:

“They haven’t found the culprit yet. Unfortunately, the rain washed away the footprints, which caused some trouble. But it’s entrusted to reliable people, so it’s only a matter of time before they catch them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

The culprit? Worry? What difference does any of it make? Even if they caught him a hundred times over, Doyoon was already dead.

“My mother-in-law insisted that the funeral be completely isolated from the outside. There’s no benefit in rumors. Tomorrow, the burial will be at Baekya Group’s—”

How could he speak like this without even blinking?

By now, Haryeong almost felt a grim admiration.

Even when the call came a few days ago saying that Doyoon was with him, his expression hadn’t changed. While Haryeong trembled like a leaf in shock, he had merely instructed the staff to prepare the 1 billion that the culprit demanded.

And that wasn’t all.

While her blood ran cold every minute, her husband Baek Jooheon had not once stayed by her side. Inquiries with the secretary yielded only evasive answers.

From his response alone, it was clear enough:

As always, Baek Jooheon would be with Gong Sera.

That was the kind of man he was. Baek Jooheon.

Even after five years of marriage, the two had never once intersected at the same point—as if they had existed in entirely different worlds from the start.

Jooheon stared briefly at Haryeong’s resentful eyes, then, as if offering some form of compensation, repeated the same words:

“If you want, I’ll divorce you anytime. And of course, I’ll give you ample alimony…”

“I don’t need it.”

At Haryeong’s firm tone, Jooheon’s indifferent eyes flickered for just a moment.

But she really didn’t need it. Why go through the hassle of a divorce? She only needed to disappear from his world, from beside him.

“Tell me anytime if you change your mind.”

With that, Jooheon turned sharply.

The familiar scent of Gong Sera’s perfume made Haryeong’s stomach churn. At the same time, an uncontrollable impulse surged within her.

That impulse forced a forbidden question past her lips:

“Did you… ever love our child?”

It was a futile question. Jooheon left the room without a word, never once looking back.

The response was exactly as expected, yet the sense of loss and impact was far greater than she had anticipated.

To hide her tattered emotions, Haryeong buried herself in the bed.

“Sniff… sniff…”

The stifled sobs erupted from deep within her chest. She had thought that without love, there would be no resentment. Yet, seeing how bitterly resentful and heart-wrenching this felt, perhaps she had loved him after all.

A sour tear rolled down onto the pillowcase.

This was the final punctuation of a miserable marriage.

When the funeral, long as eternity, finally ended, the incessant rain ceased.

Returning home in her black mourning clothes, everything felt like a dream.

As if nothing had happened, Jooheon went to work, flawless and composed. Choi Malja also mentioned she would visit the hospital, unable to resist her son Baek Ilhwan’s urging.

The vast Baekya family estate was filled with silence.

Quietly, Haryeong approached her child’s room. She had decorated this pastel-hued room for Doyoon, teasing him that he would remain a child forever if he continued refusing to sleep alone.

Regardless of Choi Malja’s tirades about parenting methods, Haryeong wished she could have simply held him in her arms as much as she wanted. After all, Doyoon would now remain a child forever. He would never grow.

“…Haah.”

Haryeong inhaled deeply and stepped inside. The sweet, soft scent of her child filled her lungs—it was the scent of love.

Memories flooded back: the shock of learning she was pregnant, the thrill of hearing the baby’s heartbeat, the excitement of feeling the first kick.

Without morning sickness, without complaint, the child had been perfect throughout the pregnancy.

When Haryeong finally held the newborn before her, touching its tiny hands and feet, she was sure she had lived just for this moment.

The clear, large eyes were exactly like hers, but the other delicate features—the nose, chin, and jawline—already resembled her husband, Jooheon.

Ignoring Choi Malja’s lament that the baby should have looked more like Jooheon, Haryeong smiled quietly.

Perfectly split between both parents… such a good baby who understood the mother’s wish.

And yet, that sweet child, so loved that Haryeong would have traded her life for him, had left the world at the age of five.

Baekya Group. Kidnapped simply for being the only grandchild of a chaebol family.

“…Sniff.”

Even though her chest was already raw from grief, Haryeong clawed at it again.

“Mom… I’m so sorry, Doyoon. It’s all my fault…”

She should have refused this absurd marriage from the start. Or when Choi Malja scolded her, saying she didn’t need a daughter-in-law like her, she should have left the house boldly.

If only… if only…

“No… no…”

Finally collapsing to the floor, Haryeong shook her head frantically. Everything was her fault for holding vain hope for Baek Jooheon. But regretting it now served no purpose. Nothing could change.

Through her tear-blurred vision, the familiar wooden frame of a bed came into view.

It was the bunk bed Doyoon had asked for, celebrating his first room.

When asked why a bunk bed, he shyly explained it was so a sibling could sleep with him someday. Haryeong, unable to tell him the truth, simply stroked his chattering head.

“Becoming a big brother is my dream!”

Even now, she could almost hear his lively, cheerful voice.

On the abandoned bed lay the dolphin-shaped blanket, tousled. Doyoon had cherished it since he was a baby.

Now, he would neither cover himself with it nor become the big brother he dreamed of. Death had stolen all his small, humble dreams.

“Ah… ah… ahh…”

She couldn’t bear it. Haryeong struck her chest violently, then, feet scrambling on the floor, stood up. Clothes disheveled, shoes mismatched, she left the Baekya estate.

She could no longer stay in this place, in this world.

“Ha… ha…”

She ran without direction, arriving at a cliff on a remote mountain nearby.

It was the very place where her child had been found lifeless. Only twenty minutes from the grand Baekya estate, yet she had failed to save him.

Haryeong was without excuse—a sinner. And now, she intended to atone for her sin with death.

Step by step, she moved toward the cliff’s edge. She could not let her five-year-old son, who still refused to sleep alone, take the perilous path of the afterlife by himself.

If she could walk hand-in-hand with him, perhaps Doyoon might forgive her, even just a little. Thinking this, a sad smile touched her parched lips.

Her bare feet felt the hard stones, dislodged from her shoes, but she didn’t notice the pain. Her mind was consumed by the thought of finally meeting Doyoon.

Just one step… and she would reach him.

At the moment her frail feet were halfway over the edge of the cliff, a strong, vivid voice called from behind:

“Mom!”