A Marriage So Lethal (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9

CI Soft CEO Office.

Exactly 6 a.m. Kang Woo began work. He had arrived earlier than usual. Since he now insisted on leaving precisely on time, tasks had inevitably piled up.

Only a short while had passed since the incident, and he could no longer stay late like before. Otherwise, he might turn into the kind of flippant man who merely made empty promises to Se Ah.

On one side of his desk sat a thick stack of approval documents left unprocessed from yesterday. A sticky note was attached to the topmost folder:

[President, Managing Director Lee Min Young contacted you at 8 p.m. last night.]

Originally, he had instructed that any important calls—especially from Gcoms or similarly critical parties—be relayed to him immediately, even in his absence.

However, after Se Ah’s divorce declaration, his directive changed: no contact after his departure unless the company literally split in two.

In short, he—chronically workaholic—was doing his utmost best to win back Ji Se Ah’s heart.

After focusing intently and finishing all approval documents, he headed to the break room. The aroma of freshly extracted espresso was pleasant, and his fatigue, accumulated from various matters, seemed to lighten somewhat.

Outside, daylight had already filled the sky.

Is she awake?

Once again, thoughts of Se Ah unexpectedly surfaced; he sent her a message: *Did you sleep well?*

Back in his office, he reviewed more documents. Collaboration with Gcoms was sailing smoothly like a ship with full sails. With consecutive hits in its mobile game series, CI Soft had surpassed its highest revenue point since founding.

Whether in technical capability or financial resources, self-producing PC games posed absolutely no difficulty.

Still, there remained a clear reason to deliberately attach itself to Gcoms: unparalleled promotional impact. A collaboration with Gcoms offered a single leap to the industry’s pinnacle.

A knock sounded, and Secretary Choi entered. After a courteous bow, she began briefing him on the day’s schedule:

a morning meeting on the new game, a lunch meeting reviewing beta service progress, and a luncheon with senior platform executives.

“President, Gcoms has sent you an invitation to the new game launch party on December 24th at Grace Hotel. Shall you attend with Madam?”

Handing the approved documents to Secretary Choi, Kang Woo spoke up:

“Do women enjoy parties?”

It was unprecedented since the company’s founding—the first time Kang Woo had asked such a relatively personal question. Secretary Choi looked briefly flustered before quickly resuming her professional demeanor.

“I’m not sure if all women are like that, but generally, I’ve heard they do.”

Even if he invited her, he doubted she’d accept—but trying was the only option. He was genuinely curious to see her in a light, flowing silk dress. After all, she had looked quite lovely in her wedding gown.

“Tell them I’ll attend with her.”

“Understood. Then, as before, shall I coordinate with the personal shopper to select Madam’s dress and accessories?”

Secretary Choi was, in fact, a maternal relative—but that didn’t matter. As long as she performed well, that sufficed. Besides, distant blood ties shielded her from bothersome rumors, and she was highly competent.

Moreover, she handled one personal matter for him: regularly preparing gifts for Se Ah on his behalf.

Prior to joining CI Soft, Secretary Choi had worked as a fashion editor. She was also the only staff member present at Kang Woo’s wedding, thus the sole person at the company familiar with Se Ah’s appearance—which justified entrusting her with such tasks.

“I’ll ask my wife.”

“Yes. And, though I hesitate to say this… Madam would likely be very pleased if you did so.”

Secretary Choi cautiously shared her personal opinion.

“The dress you personally chose last time must have suited Madam wonderfully—she surely appreciated your thoughtful effort very much.”

With that, Secretary Choi left the office.

Unlikely, Kang Woo murmured quietly.

Se Ah doesn’t even know I was the one who chose that dress.

Ah, right—she wore it the day she told me she wanted a divorce. Right before me, smiling sweetly, looking unusually lovable.

Smiling bitterly, Kang Woo retraced that memory—already over three weeks old.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the desk.

[I’m on my way to visit Mother.]

Only this single, belated message arrived.

Indeed, Ji Se Ah was a profoundly difficult person—impossible to read, endlessly maddening.

I want to delve deep inside you. Just what on earth are you thinking?

At that moment, Se Ah arrived at Hyun Sook’s hospital.

Entering the ward, she found Hyun Sook had apparently just finished her meal.

“Mother, how are you feeling?”

Setting her handbag on the tea table, Se Ah approached Hyun Sook’s side. Though visibly weak, Hyun Sook’s expression remained bright.

“I’m fine—perfectly alright. Why come all this way again so soon? You were already here yesterday.”

“I was worried about you and wanted to visit earlier—sorry.”

“Oh dear, you must’ve been busy helping your husband get ready for work. It’s not some serious illness.”

Se Ah removed her navy trench coat and hung it in the cabinet. She promptly cleared the porridge bowl from the bedside table, folded up the dining tray, and adjusted the IV stand for Hyun Sook’s ease of movement.

“Did you eat the porridge?”

“Yes. The caregiver apparently requested nutritional porridge since swallowing rice was difficult. She’s very capable—you needn’t worry. Starting tomorrow, you don’t need to come.”

“Alright. Where’s the caregiver now?”

“Caring for patients is exhausting—even if it’s for pay. I told her it’s fine, to go rest and come back later.”

Hyun Sook was genuinely kind and generous to everyone. Having married unusually young, she remained only in her early fifties, her eyes still sparkling with youthful vivacity.

Se Ah grasped Hyun Sook’s right hand—the one without the IV needle. Hyun Sook’s gaze then gently traveled from Se Ah’s face down to her beige dress.

“You’ve always been beautiful, but my daughter-in-law looks especially lovely today. Even this elegant dress can’t match your beauty.”

“Mother, really…”

Having lived a life starved of compliments, Se Ah felt shy whenever praised like this.

“So—how’s Kang Woo? Still buried in work as usual?”

“There seems to be a major project. But lately, he’s been coming home earlier.”

Unable to meet Hyun Sook’s eyes at the sentence’s end, Se Ah looked away—though her words held truth, Hyun Sook smiled in relieved reassurance, unaware of the true reason behind his early returns.

“But, Se Ah…”

Cautiously, Hyun Sook lifted Se Ah’s chin.

“You look pale. Are you unwell too? Since you’re here, why not get a checkup? These days, even young people suffer from stress-related illnesses.”

“That tickles, Mother.”

Se Ah burst into laughter as Hyun Sook gently fiddled with her chin.

“Now you’re smiling—at last. You’re even more beautiful when you smile.”

Were all ordinary mothers like Hyun Sook?

Sometimes, when she quietly murmured *Mother* alone, a strange warmth welled within her—only to quickly sour with bitterness. Everyone from the orphanage—including her—had gradually begun avoiding words like *mother* and *parents*.

Suddenly, she envied Kang Woo.

“Your father-in-law…”

Se Ah halted mid-sentence, pressing her lips shut, worried her careless words might upset Hyun Sook.

“Your father-in-law is a busy man, serving the nation. It’s not as if my illness is grave. Consider this my chance to rest comfortably here, away from his nagging.”

Smiling like a girl with secrets, Hyun Sook drew closer to Se Ah.

“Actually, the doctor said I could be discharged tomorrow and receive test results at home, but I insisted on staying. What’s that thing young people do these days? Going to a hotel just to relax—ho-kang…”

“Hokangs?”

“Yes, exactly—Hokangs. Something like that, right?”

Hyun Sook clapped happily. Her perpetual optimism made Se Ah smile along.

“Oh—and disregard that old story your father-in-law mentioned at dinner.”

“What story?”

“The one about having children.”

“Oh—”

Se Ah’s lips lifted weakly.

“He never did know how to phrase things delicately. He likely just meant not to feel pressured.”

“I see.”

“Imagine how lovely your child would be—resembling Kang Woo, surely strikingly handsome; or taking after you, perhaps like a K-pop idol.”

“An idol? Mother, if you say such things elsewhere, people will gossip.”

“Let them gossip! Wherever I go in social circles, I’ve never seen anyone prettier than you. You possess innate elegance, my Se Ah.”

It was the polar opposite of the whispers she’d overheard—behind her back or to her face—*Poor orphan*, *Pitiful, abandoned child*.

Even more so compared to Nam Tae’s contemptuous looks, which treated her like trash.

Tears suddenly threatened to spill—foolishly, overwhelmingly. To avoid startling Hyun Sook with an abrupt outburst, Se Ah bit hard on the inside of her lip until it bruised.

“When the time is right, children will come—just keep your heart at ease. Peace of mind invites blessings.”

At last, her long-suppressed sorrow burst forth. Hyun Sook’s eyes widened at the flowing tears, then softened as she gently tilted her lips.

“Ah, the melancholy of autumn must be weighing on you, my Se Ah.”

“Huh… h-hic. Sob…”

No matter how hard she tried to swallow it, the sob escaped. With her head bowed and gripping Hyun Sook’s hand, Se Ah collapsed forward.

“Don’t cry, my dear…”

The tender comfort only made Se Ah cling harder, childish and spoiled, as tears streamed down freely—countless buried sorrows and grievances finally tearing open, along with all the pain she’d silently endured.

Hyun Sook gently patted Se Ah’s back, over and over, until the warmth of her touch finally stemmed the tears.

Regaining her senses, Se Ah felt too shy to raise her head. After sniffing her nose, she hesitantly lifted her embarrassed face. Hyun Sook smiled faintly, though her eyes held subtle concern.

“…Could it be Kang Woo’s upsetting you?”

Slowly, Se Ah shook her head.

“Well—I *should* know my son’s temperament. He sometimes speaks rather coldly, you see—quite blunt and reserved.”

Though unintended, she’d somehow ended up speaking ill of her husband. Se Ah remained ambiguously silent, neither affirming nor denying.

After a brief pause, Hyun Sook reluctantly spoke again.

“Kang Woo once told me to divorce.”

“Divorce? Why…?”

“I suppose he hated seeing me so subservient to my own father. He even suggested we live separately if divorce wasn’t feasible—so I wouldn’t suffer stress.”

“…”

“He offered to buy me a house—who knows, maybe he thought I had less money than someone else.”

Halting mid-complaint, Hyun Sook gave a fond, almost amused look. She’d always known her son intimidated her—but this was unexpected.

“It’s not just because I gave birth to him—Kang Woo truly has a warm heart. I guarantee it. Just wait a little longer, okay?”

Watching Se Ah nervously press and release her lips, Hyun Sook narrowed her eyes like a flounder.

“It seems Cha Gang Woo’s completely smitten with Se Ah—never realized how fearsome a gentle wife can be when angered.”

“That’s not it at all.”

Hyun Sook wrapped her hands around Se Ah’s, which shook in denial.

“That’s simply how marriage is… Everything passes.”

Unable to resist Hyun Sook’s gentle gaze, Se Ah nodded.

“Oh—by the way, Se Ah. Your phone kept ringing a while ago.”

“Yes, Mother. I’ll step out for a moment.”

Se Ah entered the bathroom inside the ward.

Placing her phone on the sink, she washed her hands, staring for a long while at the milky water tinged with soap foam.

Even after crying so cathartically, her heart still felt heavy. Meeting Hyun Sook’s eyes grew increasingly difficult—guilt gnawed at her for deceiving someone so sincerely kind.

How deeply would Hyun Sook be wounded, learning suddenly and unknowingly that Se Ah intended to divorce Kang Woo?

When Se Ah had hastily announced her marriage, Hyun Sook hadn’t objected at all—not even if she’d found her daughter-in-law lacking, or felt betrayed that the girl she’d supported had wound up with her son.

Though her pleas to Nam Tae to let her stay with Kang Woo stemmed partly from love for him, mostly she feared disappointing Hyun Sook.

Yet when Nam Tae coldly and decisively rejected her earnest request, she’d wanted only to swiftly settle everything and leave—as that, she believed, would truly protect both Kang Woo and Hyun Sook.

Composing herself, she gazed into the mirror, wiping away clumps of mascara smudged around her eyes—just as she prepared to leave, her phone emitted a long, persistent vibration.

It was Director Lee—Nam Tae’s secretary, Lee Seok. Se Ah’s hand trembled as she held the phone.

[Have you confirmed the deposit? As the first-phase contract has expired, we’ve transferred 500 million KRW. Upon renewal, an additional 1 billion KRW will follow. One day remains until the deadline. Come to the main house.]