Chapter 3
The car was filled with Do-gun’s scent. Sitting next to Do-gun in the back seat, Jian pressed herself close to the window and stole glances at her husband.
A sharp jawline and a tall, straight nose bridge. Even his neatly set brows and cool, clear eyes were impeccable. Even if God had set out to create a man, He couldn’t have made one more perfect.
Was that why she liked him?
Even though he intended to maintain their marriage for three years and then divorce.
“If you have something to say, say it.”
“No. Thank you for coming to pick me up.”
“Mm.”
He nodded and draped his jacket over Jian’s body. As he leaned closer, the scent of Do-gun grew stronger.
Even though he worked from dawn until night, he always smelled good. And he’d clearly had drinks today too…
He was a cold, distant type who kept people at arm’s length. Would a man like that ever let his guard down for her?
Still, she didn’t want to just drift through this marriage with her crush and end up divorced.
“Have you been very busy lately?”
“Mm.”
“Still, I’d like to have dinner with you, oppa.”
Jian said, gathering her courage. Meals at Myeongheonjae with her in-laws were unbearably uncomfortable.
“And Myeongheonjae is just too big.”
Even in front of lavish feasts, she was always so tense she could barely taste the food. That’s why she needed him…
“I’ll try.”
“And—”
“More?”
He turned his body to look at Jian. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. She glanced at the taut creases in his shirt over his chest, then lifted her gaze to the tip of his chin.
“Because you and I are married, oppa.”
He nodded in affirmation.
“With other women… well, that’s a matter of mutual respect between a married couple. We have to play our roles as husband and wife properly, don’t we?”
The more she spoke, the hotter her face grew. Had she overstepped? Jian bit her lip.
But instead, he laughed. At the sound, Jian dropped her gaze from his chin and slowly looked upward. His long, narrow eyes curved with amusement.
He reached his long arm behind her headrest. With his tall stature, as he drew closer, her body tensed.
Gripping her trousers with both hands and staring straight ahead, Do-gun tapped the headrest lightly.
“Go on. Husband and wife roles?”
“I’m… your wife, oppa…”
“So?”
As her voice trailed off, Do-gun drew out the corners of his lips and asked. His pleasant, low baritone made her heart pound.
“We’re married, and… we share a bed.”
With his other hand, he pressed his temple and pushed upward. Sneaking glances at his languid movements, Jian gnawed at her gums.
Should she have drunk more?
Still, that man must have understood all the implications between the lines. And that made her feel embarrassed and mortified.
“Jian-ah.”
“…”
“Do you want to do it with oppa?”
Her face flushed hot. As she froze, unable to say anything, he casually raised his hand and touched her soft cheek. His relaxed eyes curved playfully.
“Not with a baby.”
“…”
“You still have peach fuzz here on your earlobe.”
He tapped her earlobe with his index finger. At the man’s stimulus, only Jian shrank back.
Seeing her shoulders curl inward, he pulled his hand away. As if to say he wouldn’t touch her further, he spread his own jacket over her upper body, covering her fully.
“Your role as a wife is enough. Eat well, sleep well, and focus on school.”
He drew the line again. Eat well, sleep well, focus on school.
Words an adult would say to a child.
After a long shower, Do-gun looked at his wife, who had already fallen asleep. At some point, dolls had started appearing in the bedroom, and now one was perched prominently on the bed as well.
It must be boring and lonely for her at Myeongheonjae by herself.
He couldn’t cancel all his dinner appointments… Maybe he should call her out occasionally and have dinner together.
“I’m your wife, oppa.”
Lips that seemed to smell of peaches if you put them in your mouth, flawless translucent skin, and delicate, pretty features—Han Jian.
She was the kind of looks any man would find eye-catching.
Above her lace-trimmed cotton pajama dress, her gently curved chest and the smooth, elegantly extended legs blurred his vision.
Only twenty-one.
She’s a child, Seo Do-gun.
He remembered how startled he’d been when he saw Jian playing in the pool in the suite, wearing a bikini.
Han Jian had been flustered when she saw him and probably hadn’t noticed, but that day, Do-gun’s spine had also broken out in sweat.
He’d thought she was a child, but she wasn’t.
For a moment, he’d thought he was crazy.
Han Jian was simply his wife bound by law for three years. He had no intention of laying a finger on her. And he’d kept that well so far.
From the moment he was born until now, Do-gun had taken whatever he wanted, prioritizing his own feelings over those of others.
Han Jian was the first small, fragile thing that he found unsettling. And she was also the only one—his current wife—for whom he felt a desire to protect that innocence.
With a face that couldn’t hide her feelings, looking at him as if asking to be held…
If only she were someone he could easily take and discard. But somehow, he felt he couldn’t do that to Han Jian.
After greedily taking in her gracefully dropping neckline and the beautifully straight line of her collarbones, Do-gun sighed and stood up.
His body was reacting.
The next morning, Do-gun, dressed in a suit, entered the dining room. He sat beside Jian, who had arrived earlier, and asked Jinju-ssi for a glass of water.
Ready for work, Do-gun was impeccably dressed down to the vest, with diamond-studded cufflinks adorning his cuffs.
He looked good in anything, but he came alive in a perfectly tailored suit.
“What brings you here? Eating breakfast before you go?”
“I’ll make a point of it sometimes.”
“I see. And you, Jian? Why aren’t you serving your husband’s meal?”
At her mother-in-law’s words, Jian pushed back her chair and stood up.
With a scraping sound, both her father-in-law and mother-in-law’s gazes fixed on Jian—more precisely, on Do-gun’s hand gripping her wrist.
“Sit down. There are plenty of people working here besides you.”
Do-gun called Jinju-ssi again. After nodding in acknowledgment to Jinju-ssi, who brought him a fresh bowl of rice and soup, Do-gun signaled Jian to sit as well.
During the meal, brief reports related to Sewon Electronics continued.
So this was why Do-gun didn’t have breakfast together… This wasn’t a dining table; it felt like a briefing to a superior.
Jian ate while stealing glances at Do-gun. His chopstick movements were clean and efficient, and he ate heartily. He didn’t seem to be a picky eater either.
His utensils never clinked against the dishes, and he chewed quietly. The movement of his jaw muscles and his Adam’s apple caught her attention.
After finishing the meal, Do-gun finished getting ready for work. Jian followed him out, trailing behind after he emerged from the dressing room on the second floor.
Passing through the first floor and exiting the main building, she felt her breathing ease. As they walked through the garden, Do-gun spoke to Jian.
“I can’t have dinner with you.”
“Ah…”
“I’ll be working late until next month.”
A slightly more detailed answer came in response to her question last night about whether he was busy. In moments like this, when her cold and indifferent husband occasionally showed consideration, Jian fell for him a little more.
“It’s okay. I must have been fussy because I had a bit to drink yesterday.”
Smiling, Jian told him not to worry about the man heading off to work. As she shrugged her shoulders as if to say she was truly fine, he raised his hand over her head.
He paused for a moment as if to stroke her hair.
“Without thinking.”
When she was younger, he—much older than her—used to pat her head. Every time he did, her heart fluttered, and it was the same now.
Jian rose on her tiptoes and pressed her head against his hand hovering above her. Looking up as if asking to be petted, Do-gun smiled.
It was a smile more radiant than the warm morning sunlight.
