TCE 19

Chapter 19

“You never know what’ll happen with people.”

A comment, sparked by someone’s idle remark, drew the attention of those sitting around, all pretending to be refined.

The one who shifted the group’s focus away from their own self-important posturing continued with a slightly smug air.

“I’m talking about Go Woori.”

The name that everyone wanted to mention, but no one dared to say aloud.

For months now, it had been the hottest topic, and even now, those three syllables continued to fuel burning gossip. Glasses that had been lifted in leisure paused mid-air.

Gulp.

Someone’s swallow broke the silence, and soon the floodgates opened.

“Honestly, who could’ve expected it to end like that? And on First Class, no less.”

“I swear, I’m going to be scared every time I get on a plane for a while. I’ve got a conference in London next week, too.”

The incident had been so shocking that Ha Sung Apparel tried to smooth things over, framing it as a simple accident. But everyone who knew the truth knew better.

The culprit had been arrested on the spot and would face punishment, but when a life had been lost, that hardly mattered.

Tsk.

The man who had started the conversation clicked his tongue and slyly shifted toward the topic he had really wanted to broach.

“Anyway, it must be a tough situation for Ha Yoonjae, right?”

The perennial subject of gossip in their world: the “half-blood” Ha Yoonjae.

Especially since he had been on the verge of marrying the eldest daughter of nouveau riche Ha Sung Apparel—only to have the wedding collapse because of an alleged affair.

Of course, nobody truly believed it was “just” an affair, but it was enough to heat up the mood.

“Of course it’s tough. Anyone with a conscience would feel that way.”

“But his personality’s a little…”

And as those who had once fallen for his looks and paid dearly for it chimed in, the chatter grew rowdier.

“Of all days, it had to happen on his wedding day.”

“I heard the ceremony was completely ruined, and the bride fainted.”

“Well, at least he has some conscience. Not that it changes anything.”

“You never know. Maybe he’s pretending and actually relieved behind the scenes.”

“Oh please, no way.”

“Don’t you know Go Woori? Who knows what kind of revenge she’d take. Honestly, they were a perfect match, in that sense.”

“Come on. If she was planning revenge, why would she have been on that plane?”

“Would you have stayed after something like that? If it were me, I’d be too humiliated.”

“Anyway, let’s stop talking about the dead. The funeral wasn’t that long ago.”

Hypocritical words, considering how far they had already gone. Still, the heated mood began to settle.

Perhaps they realized belatedly that their gossip didn’t match their supposedly refined image. Soon, someone raised their glass to steer the night back toward elegance.

“Let’s drink.”

The bar once again filled with the gentle swell of jazz.

Of course, by then, their gossip had already spread far beyond their table.

“……”

Yoonjae, who still hadn’t taken a sip of his drink, drew a sidelong glance from Jang Juho.

Shrugging playfully, Juho asked,

“So, how does it feel hearing people’s opinions about you?”

The unwilling protagonist of the conversation, Yoonjae scoffed without uncrossing his arms.

“Nothing much.”

“Still, it must get under your skin?”

Catching the faint trace of irritation on Yoonjae’s otherwise expressionless face, Juho tilted his head.

“Not like it changes anything.”

In a way, it was an admirably rational response.

Juho, satisfied with the expected answer, moved on to the real subject of the night.

“What about Joo Aejeong?”

The hushed voice carried the secrecy that had brought them together.

“Still unable to sleep?”

“…Sleep?”

“What, you didn’t know? She’s been on sleeping pills for a while now. Even got a prescription just a few days before the wedding.”

No way. The woman who always showed up disheveled because she slept too well, relying on sleeping pills?

Shaking his head without even a scoff, Yoonjae watched as Juho pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued.

“Fine, forget that. What about other things? Is she showing guilt, despair, regret… anything like that?”

Guilt.

At the word, Yoonjae thought of Aejeong.

If it had been the “original” Joo Aejeong, guilt was exactly what she would have felt. Even if she wasn’t directly responsible, she would never have ignored it.

[It feels like my fault. Something like that happened on our wedding day. How could I not care? Anyone human would feel guilty.]

That was why she had even gone to the funeral.

Yoonjae silently tilted the untouched glass in his hand.

“Didn’t Chief Hong book an appointment for her recently? She canceled right away, didn’t she? Said it was urgent. And she hasn’t shown up for her weekly counseling sessions either. No contact at all.”

“At all?”

“Not a word.”

Juho shook his head firmly.

Jang Juho. Psychiatrist, PhD.

He had earned his doctorate young, and with Yoonjae’s sponsorship—once Yoonjae officially entered the Yeongdo Group registry—he had become a well-regarded doctor in the field.

As such, he played a critical role in Yoonjae and Aejeong’s contract marriage.

“If she’s still in an unstable state—trapped in cycles of guilt or self-harm—we can’t just ignore it. You know how precarious her condition is.”

Juho was the only person who knew the truth of their contract, precisely because Aejeong’s fragile mental state required steady counseling to prevent crises.

So his concern was well justified.

“……”

Yoonjae narrowed his eyes at the glass he still hadn’t drunk from. Finally, he spoke, short and sharp.

“Strange.”

“…What?”

“She’s strange.”

Juho blinked, not immediately understanding.

“You mean she seems worse?”

“No. Different. Almost like…”

Yoonjae, uncharacteristically pausing, continued.

“Like she’s a different person.”

It was the only way to describe it. Juho slowly set down the glass he had just lifted to wet his throat.

“Explain more.”

At his serious urging, Yoonjae recounted Aejeong’s sudden change since the wedding—the completely different behaviors, the unfamiliar mannerisms.

That was the real reason he had sought Juho out tonight.

After listening carefully, Juho folded his arms and gave a brief opinion.

“I haven’t seen her much, but she never seemed like someone comfortable with this situation. She always felt deep guilt toward Go Woori. And with her own fragile ego, it made her even more vulnerable. It could be a defense mechanism under extreme stress. A way for her to survive.”

“You mean her personality might have changed?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out. I’d need to counsel her to be sure. But for now, I think she needs a way to resolve her guilt. If she bottles it up, it could lead to something worse.”

“And the way to resolve it?”

“You know Go Woori’s ashes were placed at the Paju memorial hall, right?”

Yoonjae nodded.

“It could help if you took her there.”

In other words, Juho was telling him to bring Aejeong to the memorial. Yoonjae fiddled with his glass, unable to answer right away.

Reading his hesitation, Juho asked quietly,

“And a year from now? What then?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Yoonjae answered bluntly.

“As agreed. As contracted.”

“Separate lives, after divorce.”

“That’s how it was from the start.”

[Please, let me escape.]

That had been Aejeong’s very first condition when she proposed the contract.

After a year, they would divorce on the grounds of “incompatible personalities,” and she would leave Korea. Yoonjae was already preparing for that.

She doesn’t seem to care about any of that now, though.

Yet she still brought up the contract terms out of the blue.

Faced with these unanticipated shifts, Yoonjae sighed quietly. Juho, studying his friend’s uncharacteristic demeanor with a clinician’s eye, raised his glass.

“Come with me sometime. Anytime. Promise me.”

Yoonjae nodded silently and finally lifted his glass to clink against Juho’s. Just as he raised it to his lips for a sip—

“…?”

Tilting his head back, he caught sight of a familiar face.

Step. Step.

Striding boldly through the bar as if accompanied by her own triumphant soundtrack.

Wearing a business suit that looked as though she had come straight from work, she sat down without even glancing around.

“…What the—”

Completely blindsided by this unexpected turn, Yoonjae froze, staring.

“What is it?” Juho asked.

But Yoonjae didn’t answer. He was too captivated, his attention entirely consumed by the woman who seemed to be creating a new world around herself.

And then—

Clink.

She leaned close to a stranger, chatting intimately, their shoulders brushing. Her laughter rang out as she tilted her glass.

“….”

Yoonjae’s grip on his own glass tightened.

Noticing his reaction, Juho followed his gaze.

“What are you—oh?”

What he saw was common enough in such places, but utterly inappropriate in this case.

With a sinking feeling, Juho muttered quickly,

“Director Ha, that looks a little—”

Thud.

But Yoonjae was already on his feet, striding toward them.

Even before Juho had finished speaking—perhaps even earlier—he had already moved.

Watching his friend’s retreating back, Juho’s eyes gleamed.

A fleeting glimpse of urgency in Yoonjae’s face and movements.

Sip.

“Looks like she’s not the only one who’s changed.”

As a psychiatrist, his instincts flared sharp and bright.