Was this what had happened every time Igyeol had been sent to the family home?
He had believed his mother-in-law when she said she only called him over to drink tea and have someone to talk to. Maybe trusting her so easily had been his mistake.
“Haa.”
Out of habit, Seo Dohyeon slipped a hand into his coat pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes, and put one between his lips. The flame had barely caught when Go Igyeol came outside, only to stop short at the sight of smoke drifting from Dohyeon’s mouth. He hesitated, reluctant to come closer.
Dohyeon’s gaze swept over him, still and steady, taking in that wary distance. Igyeol, who almost never let his feelings show, was keeping away from him.
Strange. Cigarettes had never seemed to bother him before.
With a sharp exhale, Dohyeon dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it out after only a few drags. Only then did Igyeol begin walking toward him again.
Seeing that he was wearing nothing but a thin cardigan, Dohyeon draped his own coat over Igyeol’s shoulders and slipped an arm around him.
“Did you leave without making things awkward?”
“…Yes.”
“Has it always been like this, whenever you came here without me?”
“No. Mother and I just had tea. She asked how I was doing, and how things were between you and me. That was all.”
His blank expression did not change as he clutched the collar of the coat wrapped around him. There was no tremor in his voice, no disturbance in his eyes. Dohyeon stared into them, trying to read him.
But he could not tell whether Igyeol was lying.
“That’s hard to believe. Especially after what I saw today.”
“…It’s true. You can believe me.”
Dohyeon let out a dry laugh as he shielded Igyeol’s head with one hand and helped him into the passenger seat. The more Igyeol spoke like this, the more it sounded like an excuse.
“Fine.”
“…Why did you come here so suddenly today?”
“Because you were here. I thought I’d bring you back. And maybe have dinner at the family home.”
“…It seems a little early for dinner with them.”
Igyeol murmured faintly as he fastened his seat belt and turned his gaze away. Dohyeon did not answer. He only closed the door.
A shiver ran through Igyeol as the cold air inside the car seeped into his skin. Dohyeon got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and turned the heater up.
“Let’s just eat out and go home.”
“…All right.”
Without realizing it, Igyeol inhaled, chasing the faint trace of Dohyeon’s pheromones lingering in the coat. His nose twitched slightly, but the scent was weak, as carefully controlled as always, and mixed with Dohyeon’s usual cologne.
Quietly, he let out a breath, careful not to make it noticeable.
“Igyeol.”
“Yes?”
His shoulders flinched as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Dohyeon’s gaze lingered on him, but instead of reprimanding him, he asked what he wanted to eat.
“…Anything is fine.”
“Sushi?”
“…Korean food, please.”
A faint smile escaped Dohyeon. The bait had worked.
“Why not just say Korean food from the start?”
“……”
“Every time I take you somewhere you don’t like, you barely touch your food. And still, you always answer like that.”
After years together, Dohyeon knew his habits.
Because Igyeol never voiced what he liked or disliked, one had to watch him closely. He never touched shellfish, raw food, or anything with a strong fishy smell. Even so, he had gone with Dohyeon to Japanese restaurants several times.
Not once had he asked to eat something else. Not once had he said he disliked it. He had simply picked at whatever he could manage.
“…It really was all fine.”
“Right. Because I’ve already been avoiding the things you hate. Anyway, did you call your father yet?”
“…No. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
The car glided smoothly to a stop at another red light. Dohyeon’s gaze settled directly on Igyeol.
“You’re making me repeat myself a lot today.”
“…I thought it might be better to call later.”
“Your father sounded impatient. He was already talking about going out for a round.”
“……”
Igyeol cursed himself in silence.
If he had known this would happen, he should have forced himself to call that morning. He should have told his father not to bring it up with Dohyeon. To leave it alone.
“…I’ll call him.”
“Call him now.”
“……”
“If you’re going to do it anyway, isn’t it better to call while I’m here?”
With no real choice, Igyeol took out his phone. He scrolled far down through his contacts before finally finding the number. Swallowing dryly, he brought the phone to his ear, anxious that even his nervous breathing might be heard.
Before long, a rough voice crackled through the line.
“It’s me.”
— “Oh, yes.”
“Have you been well?”
— “Eh, same as always. Once you pass sixty, your whole body starts falling apart. Clear skies, my bones ache. Cloudy skies, my bones ache. My eyes are going, too. Even with Executive Director Seo helping me, the business keeps wobbling.”
His voice was too strong to sound frail.
His eyes going bad was a lie, too.
He had never been suited for business in the first place. After spending his entire life working in factories and logistics, he had shamelessly started bringing up one venture after another the moment Igyeol got married, pressing Dohyeon for money under the excuse of investments.
But since he had never run a proper business before, every attempt ended in failure.
Most recently, he had taken over a nearly dead packaging company and was playing president only because Dohyeon had arranged a few connections for him. Without that, the company would have collapsed within weeks.
Suppressing the bitterness rising inside him, Igyeol only murmured softly, “Is that so?”
A rasping cough soon followed from the other end of the line. When the man asked if he was listening, Igyeol answered yes. Only then did his voice grow louder, gaining confidence.
— “By the way, did Executive Director Seo mention it to you?”
“…Father.”
Go Daesik was his father on paper, but in truth, he was his uncle.
After a tragedy had taken the lives of Igyeol’s parents, Daesik had only taken him in because Go Chunseop, Igyeol’s grandfather, insisted that blood should be raised by blood.
If Igyeol had been younger at the time, Daesik would have sent him straight to an orphanage without hesitation. But at sixteen, Igyeol was already old enough to wash, feed, and dress himself.
So, begrudgingly, Daesik had added him to the family register.
Overnight, his uncle became his father.
And Igyeol, too afraid of being sent to an orphanage, swallowed his grief and called him Father.
But day by day, Daesik’s eyes changed.
The child in front of him ripened too quickly. What had once been the shy green of an unripe apple suddenly matured and flushed red. After noticing that gaze, Igyeol learned to live even more quietly under the same roof, careful to avoid him.
When Daesik was nearby, even breathing became difficult.
In the spring of his twenty-third year, trapped in that suffocating silence, Igyeol was dragged out to meet someone.
Seo Dohyeon.
For the first time.
— “Hello? Are you not listening?”
That was why, when the marriage meeting ended and Dohyeon handed him an absurd contract, Igyeol signed it without asking for a single revision.
All he had wanted was freedom.
Freedom from having to live with Daesik again.
If he had known what burdens that so-called family would continue to drag into his life, he might have reconsidered marrying Dohyeon.
“…I’m listening.”
— “Well, I heard all the people your age are getting into golf these days. One of our suppliers is into it, too.”
“…Have you ever played golf, Father?”
Igyeol asked carefully, trying not to offend him.
But a stiff silence fell over the line, followed by a scoff.
— “What? You think I haven’t? Are you looking down on me now, too? Do you think I’m some parasite living off my child?”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
— “See? This is why people say no good comes of raising someone else’s child. My wife begged me not to take you in, but I put you on my family register anyway. And this is what I get? Do you have any idea what I went through keeping you under my roof? After everything I did for you, you dare look down on me…!”
“I didn’t… Father, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Please. Still, maybe you could reconsider the golf—”
His short nails dug into his palm.
Face burning with humiliation, Igyeol bit down on his lip.
Golf was not a sport one could try casually and be done with. The equipment alone could cost tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands. Why could his father not spend his own money? Why did he have to pressure Dohyeon? Why this sudden obsession with golf?
No matter how Igyeol looked at it, it was nothing but reckless vanity.
— “I should just die, shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what would make you happiest, Igyeol? Yes, how convenient it would be for you if I just dropped dead. You’d be rid of me, and rid of everything I did to raise you. They say there’s no gratitude in raising another man’s child, and now I see they were right. And me, fool that I was, because you were too pretty to abandon…!”