TCE 04

Chapter 4

“I think you’ve been experiencing irregular periods for quite a long time, which is probably why you didn’t notice right away.”

The doctor pushed the thick glasses—thick as rose-tinted ones—up the bridge of his nose and continued,

“Fortunately, there’s nothing seriously wrong. You’ll need a detailed examination to know more, but at least for now, you’re fine.”

Finishing with a kind smile, the doctor gave a brief farewell and left the hospital room.

It wasn’t Ae-jeong, but we who broke the silence.

“Excuse me.”

The way we addressed him—like calling out to a passerby—made Yoon-jae’s eyes narrow slightly.

She had many ways of calling him, but “Excuse me” wasn’t one of them.

And then—

“There’s no baby in here, right?”

The words, accompanied by a hand on her belly, were even more absurd than the form of address.

Yoon-jae put a hand on his hip and tilted his head.

“Was there some guy you were meeting without me knowing?”

“How would I know? But you said there was a baby.”

Still spouting incomprehensible nonsense, she rubbed her flat stomach.

“Like this, you were touching your stomach.”

That was exactly what the real Joo Ae-jeong had done—stroking her belly and saying that—but even we hadn’t fully understood it, so there was no way Yoon-jae would.

“Did you hit your head when you fainted?”

He looked ready to have her admitted to the psychiatric ward if necessary.

At least, the panic in our chest eased a little. It wasn’t miscarriage blood, after all.

Whatever it is, this means it’s not a dream.

There’s no clearer proof than this heavy, uncomfortable pain.

Our body had changed.

No—

We had entered this body.

Whatever the case, nothing about it was normal. She looked up coldly at Yoon-jae, who was scrutinizing her.

This was the man who hadn’t shown a flicker of emotion even when she was clutching her belly and bleeding.

The suspicion turned to certainty.

“You don’t love Joo Ae-jeong.”

A fine crack appeared in Yoon-jae’s perfect, expressionless face.

“What am I supposed to be doing?”

Now it was our turn to be puzzled by his slightly twisted expression.

“Loving. I mean.”

“Why would I do that?”

“No, I mean loving Joo Ae-jeong—”

The more we spoke, the deeper into the swamp we sank. We ran a hand through our hair in irritation.

“I must be crazy. Yeah, I’m definitely a little crazy.”

One thing was certain: both she and Ha Yoon-jae had used “Joo Ae-jeong” to break off the engagement.

And the cold-blooded Yoon-jae, shrugging on the jacket he’d taken off earlier, said,

“Whether you’re crazy or not, the contract will go ahead as planned. The wedding will be held again, so keep that in mind.”

We dragged our hands down our face.

“So… it was all a lie.”

When we slowly opened our eyes, they gleamed an icy blue.

“A scheme to deceive Go Woo-ri.”

It was ridiculous enough—each deceiving the other—that we couldn’t help but ask,

“Did you really not want to marry me—no, Go Woo-ri—that much? Enough to pull something this absurd?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“Because I’m curious. Just answer.”

This unusual version of “Joo Ae-jeong” made Yoon-jae tilt his head slightly.

Convinced she was out of her mind, he actually answered sincerely,

“It’s not about wanting to or not wanting to.”

“Then what?”

“I just didn’t need Go Woo-ri.”

Ouch.

Hearing him flatly say she was unnecessary stung a little. She clenched the sheets and glared.

“She’s the daughter of Ha-sung Apparel. Rich, beautiful, great body, good personality, and a career—”

“Stop bringing up the dead and cut out the pathetic self-deprecation.”

If words could kill, he’d be a murderer. This short conversation told us everything about Ha Yoon-jae and Joo Ae-jeong’s relationship.

And something else—

The dead.

A fact we’d denied so hard we fainted over it.

As if she’d lived her life underground, she stared down at her pale palm, then clenched it tightly.

Perhaps taking the long silence as agreement, Yoon-jae spoke again.

“If you’ve got no more questions, get dressed. We have somewhere to go.”

“Where?”

Once he was fully dressed, buttoning the last button, he replied,

“Pyeongchang-dong. Your in-laws’ place.”

“Isn’t it weird to call it ‘in-laws’ when we haven’t even had the wedding?”

“We filed the marriage registration, so it’s not wrong.”

“What?”

In the car, as the navigation led them into an unfamiliar neighborhood, we were hit with another shock.

Not only did my body change, but the original me died, and now I’m married? What kind of losing deal is this?

There were plenty of things to complain about, but for now, she decided to accept reality.

“What was this woman thinking, filing the marriage registration first…”

With that guy, no less.

…We didn’t say that part aloud, but Yoon-jae seemed bothered by something else.

“You keep referring to yourself in the third person.”

Oops.

“Is that supposed to be cute or something?”

Most people would shrink at the obvious mockery, but our self-esteem wasn’t so easily crushed.

“Guess it sounded cute to you. Am I that cute?”

Yoon-jae’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. This kind of retort was unlike the usual Joo Ae-jeong, who would even doubt small acts of kindness.

Looking at her sitting there with arms folded and legs crossed, he muttered to himself,

“Definitely hit her head.”

At his seriously concerned tone, we bit back a curse and clenched our teeth.

Still bewildered, the car finally reached its destination.

After parking in the garage, we stepped out and saw what the tall walls had been hiding:

A sleek, modern three-story building with a well-kept garden. Surprised by the unfamiliar sight, “Ae-jeong” was met with Yoon-jae’s words,

“No need to butter them up. Once we go in, just stay by my side—”

“Who designed this house? They must really love symmetry.”

Instead of looking awkward, we strode confidently toward the front door.

“It even looks boring.”

We loved natural beauty; an artificially perfect mansion wasn’t to our taste.

Yoon-jae fell silent, watching us, but we didn’t care. Just before entering, we turned and asked,

“Where’s the bathroom? I need to go.”

“Inside.”

“Isn’t it rude to head straight to the bathroom on your first visit to your in-laws? Is there one outside?”

It was a strange place to be concerned about etiquette, but Yoon-jae pointed to a separate annex next to the main house.

“Go in first. I’ll be right back.”

Smiling sweetly, she quickly headed for the annex.

Click. Thud.

Once we heard the sound of the main house door closing, we surveyed the garden.

Contract, in-laws… whatever. Not my concern.

She wasn’t about to accept her death so easily.

The news had gone on about the circumstances of “Go Woo-ri”’s death and the culprit’s end, but that was just the media talking.

“For all I know, she could still be alive.”

That would be another problem entirely, but she wasn’t thinking rationally right now.

We crossed the garden and sprinted toward the section of wall we’d already noted as the lowest.

Still over two meters, but climbable.

“I did climbing for three years.”

Her soft, pale hands might not hold up, but she’d already decided.

Tap.

With no real handholds, she hooked her fingers over the wall and searched for support.

There.

Luckily, there were spots where fingers and toes could grip. Smearing her hands with dirt to dry the sweat, she hung onto the wall.

“Ugh…”

This weak body could barely support itself, but gritting her teeth, we climbed—slowly, bit by bit. It wasn’t a mountain cliff, just a wall; willpower should be enough.

“…Just a little more.”

If it were her real body, she’d already be over by now. Her skin scraped, but she didn’t care.

Just one more stretch, and her fingers would reach the top.

Her white hand reached high, yearning for freedom like a lifeline—

Tick.

A strange sound came from below.

“…?”

While we blinked, a puff of pale smoke rose beside us.

Curling upward.

No… it can’t be. No way… I mean, this is—

The voice that shattered our denial came next,

“This house is on a hill. The outer wall’s over three meters.”

Already too familiar, the man’s voice sounded right beside her.

Gulp.

We turned our head and—unfortunately—there he was, leaning against the wall.

Holding a freshly lit cigarette, he spoke casually,

“Go ahead. Do your best.”

His expressionless face gleamed in the moonlight, no hint of stopping her.

Those proud, emotionless eyes made us freeze for a moment.

…Those eyes.

How could human eyes be so black and devoid of feeling? They were so dull and lifeless, like a dead person’s, that just looking at them made her chest feel heavy.

That moment of distraction loosened her death-grip on the wall.

“Ah.”

Her exhausted body dropped straight down—

And the once-languid Yoon-jae’s eyes widened in surprise.

No, he got closer.

Smack.

And then—she tasted iron.