My Husband Fell in Love - Chapter 10

“I’m Seo Ha~! Seo Ha who’s dreaming~!”

Kyung Joon stared, dumbfounded, at Yoon Seo Ha, who was enthusiastically singing while poking a spoon into a soju bottle. She’d been complaining about drinking just a moment ago—how come she’s acting like this after only three beers and two bottles of soju?

“I’m Seoo Ha~!”

“Ugh, shut up already.”

Seeing Seo Ha get ready to sing the same song for the third time, Kyung Joon couldn’t take it anymore and jumped to his feet.

“We’re done with the clams. Let’s go. I’ll step outside for some fresh air and call a driver.”

“My phone number reads the same forwards and backwards~ My phone number reads the same forwards and backwards~.”

Though she’d begun humming some bizarre, unidentified jingle, fortunately, Seo Ha obediently got up and followed him, wobbling unsteadily.

“The sea!”

Before he could stop her, Seo Ha had already dashed onto the sandy beach and started running wildly. The sight of her stumbling and then collapsing face-first onto the sand was something to behold.

“Be more careful.”

Kyung Joon sighed deeply and reached out to help her up by the arm. The silly, giggly expression instantly vanished from Seo Ha’s face.

“Let go of me.”

She suddenly straightened up and shook his hand off, making Kyung Joon think she’d finally sobered up.

“I’m a married woman. Don’t come near me. My husband is so—”

But of course—that was impossible.

“Since when do you even have a husband?”

Giving up on trying to lift her, Kyung Joon plopped down beside her and scolded her instead. After witnessing everything, he felt a messy mix of pity, frustration, and disdain toward Yoon Seo Ha for bringing up her husband when she’d come out just to drink.

“If you can’t hold your liquor, at least sip slowly. And if you’re going to get drunk, at least do it quietly. You’ve got no caution, no backbone—what exactly do you even have?”

He expected her to flare up again over his informal speech—but unexpectedly, Yoon Seo Ha simply pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin on her knees.

“Right. What do I even have?”

“Well, you’ve got President Kang. Your mom.”

Kyung Joon took off his coat and draped it firmly over Yoon Seo Ha’s shoulders—not because he worried she might be cold, but because her shoulders looked far smaller than they did at the office, and it irritated him.

“Oh, right. I’ve got my mom.”

Seo Ha giggled again.

“Secretary Ryu, please take good care of my mom. She’d be absolutely heartbroken if I told her I was getting divorced. She built the company from nothing after my dad passed, raised me alone, and never took a single proper vacation in her life as the company head.”

Tears shimmered in her dark eyes like the night sea—pitifully so.

‘Pitiful?’

Kyung Joon was startled by his own thought. He could understand if Yoon Seo Ha found him pitiful—but why on earth would he feel that way about her?

Enough with these useless thoughts. Might as well get some work done while he had the chance.

He sternly reined in his wavering focus.

“You could just sell the company. There’s a pretty good acquisition offer on the table, isn’t there?”

“Are you serious?!”

Yoon Seo Ha leapt up at his calm remark—she looked completely sober now.

“Dozens of offers come in all the time. And every single time, my mom proudly rejected them. How could I possibly sell the company my parents built together, running around Dongdaemun from the ground up?”

Kyung Joon knew the whole story. It was a common, almost cliché startup tale in their industry.

“So it’s purely emotional. Very ‘gold spoon’ of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t have to worry about real-world concerns—money, time, or peace of mind.”

“Yeah. I don’t.”

Despite Kyung Joon’s clearly provocative tone, Seo Ha brushed it off lightly.

“I *am* a gold spoon—but not because I’m rich. In a country full of billionaires with hundreds, thousands, even trillions to their names, money alone doesn’t make you a gold spoon.”

“Then what does?”

“Love. I’m my parents’ pride and treasure. I don’t need a husband. I’ll go back to living happily with my mom, grow our company, and show my brand to the world.”

Though her words slurred slightly, her eyes sparkled more vividly than the night sea. Kyung Joon was certain his own eyes would never shine like that.

He was envious—deeply so.

“…Let’s go. It’s getting cold.”

Yoon Seo Ha held out her hand. Without thinking, he took it—it was cool and soft.

They walked slowly back through the darkening beach to the car. Kyung Joon had initially considered booking a nearby hotel but changed his mind and sat beside her in the back seat.

He mumbled excuses no one had asked for—about how dangerous the world was, and how he couldn’t possibly send a drunk woman home alone.

“Get some rest. You look exhausted.”

Kyung Joon started the engine and pressed the seat heater button. An awkward silence settled over the car as warmth slowly filled the cabin.

“Secretary Ryu.”

Was she sobering up? Seo Ha spoke softly—and unusually weakly, which again annoyed him.

“I told you I’d cover the driver’s fee, so don’t thank me.”

“That’s not it.”

Her voice grew clearer.

“I told you not to use informal speech. How many times do I have to say it before you understand?”

“…”

Seo Ha let her head drop. Kyung Joon stared briefly at her face resting lightly on his shoulder, then raised a finger.

“You’re heavy as hell.”

He nudged her toward the window and rubbed his left chest.

“…Am I drunk too?”

His heart pounded strangely under his fingertips. His face felt warm, too. Guess his tolerance had dropped significantly from not drinking lately.

***

“Ugh…”

Amid a splitting hangover—as if moon rabbits were pounding her brain instead of rice cakes—Seo Ha barely opened her eyes. The familiar ceiling, the cozy blanket—she was home.

“Honey. I’m so…”

Still half-asleep, her instincts called out for Seung Oh. Seo Ha stared hopelessly at her empty bedroom—clothes strewn everywhere—and finally dragged herself upright.

Sitting on the bed, memories slowly trickled back.

She’d gulped down soju-and-beer mixes, something she only ever drank at company dinners. The grilled clams had been delicious. She even remembered Kyung Joon’s hands, carefully grilling clams despite clearly having no idea what he was doing.

But how did they get back?

After deep thought, a flood of memories crashed over her, and Seo Ha clutched her head.

“Oh my god.”

She’d rambled on drunkenly like a fool. She could vividly recall Kyung Joon’s look of utter disdain as he watched her.

They’d shared the car. She’d told him she lived in Eulwangri—so he must’ve dropped her off and gone back to his place in Seoul?

‘We’re here. Wake up.’

Half-asleep, she’d thought the person shaking her was Seung Oh. Seriously. She’d genuinely forgotten she’d thrown divorce papers at him and drowned her sorrows.

‘Honey~! I’m so dizzy~.’

She must’ve buried her face deep into Kyung Joon’s chest, putting on that awful, drunkenly cute act she only ever did when tipsy.

No—she didn’t just “think” she did it. She actually *had*.

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

Seo Ha furiously pummeled her innocent pillow.

‘Who the hell are you calling “honey”? Let go already!’

Kyung Joon’s perfectly sober voice echoed in her ears—unfair, since they’d drunk the same amount.

‘How can someone be this careless? You’ve got no caution whatsoever.’

It was the first time in her life she’d been so underestimated.

‘Let’s go up. I’ll take you.’

She even remembered leaning on him in the elevator as he said that.

‘Get a grip, Ryu Kyung Joon. Just pretend you don’t know. If you get any closer, you’re screwed.’

“Yoon Seo Ha. You’re insane.”

She curled up tightly under the blanket. She wasn’t even sad—just mortified beyond belief. She wished she could vanish into cosmic dust right then and there.

She had to call him. She was still human, after all.

After a long while, she crawled out from under the covers, drank a glass of water, and looked around. No matter how much she searched, her bag from last night was nowhere to be found—only a car key sat alone on the nightstand.

“Did I leave it in the car?”

Staggering slightly, Seo Ha went down to the parking lot.

Thankfully, her bag was on the floor of the back seat—alongside an unfamiliar phone.

“Huh? This is…”

Kyung Joon’s phone.

“I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

Just as she picked it up, it suddenly vibrated.

[Ryu Chairman]

Should she answer? Hesitating, Seo Ha pressed the call button just before it cut off—intending to inform the owner that the phone was lost.

“Hel—”

[Who the hell are you?]

An irate shout blasted through before she could even say “hello.”

[I heard your report. You went off in a car with the daughter of Kang Yoon Company? Do you think you’ve got time to casually chase women around?!]

What was this about? Seo Ha turned up the volume and pressed the phone closer to her ear.

[Even if you had some purpose in going, you should’ve reported it! It’s been months since you were assigned to analyze Kang Yoon and bring it under us—yet no progress, no reports! What, are you planning to take full responsibility and hand Kang Yoon over to me on a silver platter? That’s just like you—a completely useless piece of trash! Don’t even think about showing your face at home until you bring me a proper report. You’re not even worth the dirt under your brothers’ toenails!]

Chairman Ryu ranted on one-sidedly, hurling insults before hanging up.

Seo Ha gripped the silent phone tightly. She knew exactly who this “Ryu Chairman” was—there was only one person in Korea with the rare Ryu surname holding the title of chairman.

“Taeyang Group…”

The conglomerate famous for its octopus-like expansion—acquiring promising small businesses instead of developing in-house—and notorious for replacing existing executives with relatives under various pretexts.

The very group whose acquisition offer and hundreds of billions in compensation her mother had flatly rejected.

The pieces in her throbbing head began clicking into place.

Why had Kyung Joon been alone in the CEO’s office that first day? Why had he stopped her from waiting inside?

Why had Secretary Choi, who’d served President Kang her entire life, suddenly resigned “just because she wanted a break” and even introduced her replacement?

Seo Ha rushed back upstairs with the phone and bag, opened her laptop, and dug deeply into Chairman Ryu’s family registry. Among his three sons—each running a business—Ryu Kyung Joon wasn’t listed. He didn’t resemble them, and he was much younger.

Wait—much younger?

“He said, ‘You’re not even worth the dirt under your *older brothers’* toenails…’”

Narrowing her eyes at the screen, Seo Ha changed her search query.

[Taeyang Group Ryu Myung Jin illegitimate child]

A few flimsy stock-market tabloids popped up—cheap online articles plastered with ads, barely readable.

[Rumors suggest Taeyang Group Chairman Ryu Myung Jin has an illegitimate child. Actress “A,” rumored to be his mistress, supposedly gave birth overseas in secret and registered the child in the family registry, with surprisingly specific details…]

But Seo Ha knew well—when it came to celebrities’ private lives, those tabloids were as accurate as South Korea’s Olympic archery team.

“He was a spy. Ryu Kyung Joon!”

It was infuriating. With that clean-cut face, he’d infiltrated all the way into the CEO’s office—clearly aiming to find Kang Yoon’s weakness and sell the company to Taeyang Group.

Seo Ha immediately called her mother. The line rang—but no one picked up.

She had to go to her house.

She snapped her laptop shut, dashed out, started the car, and sped out of the underground parking lot.

Just then—

“Aaah!”

A woman suddenly leapt right in front of her car. Seo Ha slammed the brakes instinctively—her body jerked forward and her head smacked against the steering wheel.

“What… what’s going on…?”

Lifting her head, Seo Ha gasped involuntarily.

The woman stared fiercely through the heavily tinted windshield—gripping a brick more tightly in her hand.

Yes—it was a brick. Dark red like dried blood, with three holes punched through, its edges sharp.

Her long hair fluttered in the wind, covering her pale face. Seo Ha could feel the woman’s hollow, lightless eyes—like a broken streetlamp—locked onto her. Terror gripped her as she braced for the brick to smash through the glass at any second.

“What—what is this? Why is she doing this?”

Don’t get out of the car. Seo Ha desperately honked, praying the woman would move or that security would come running.

In that instant—

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!

A blinding flash erupted from the side window, accompanied by a deafening engine roar.

KRA-KOOOOOM!

There was no time to react. The massive impact crumpled the car like aluminum foil, hurling it violently sideways.

That was Yoon Seo Ha’s final memory.