My Husband Fell in Love - Chapter 6
Kyung Joon had never had such a long conversation with Seo Ha before. At best, they’d only ever exchanged childish, trivial bickering like, “Did you really come up here again without even calling?” or “As you well know, President Kang is extremely precious to us.”
So he should’ve just walked past her. What on earth possessed him to run after this woman, drenched in rain and walking pointlessly like she didn’t belong?
“The car—what happened to it? That convertible with the roof wide open.”
Yoon Seo Ha responded with a look that plainly said, “Why do you even care?”
“I gave it away because it started raining.”
“Then come with me.”
Kyung Joon spun around abruptly and started striding off. Yet after walking only a short distance, he sensed no one was following him at all. He glanced back again and spotted Yoon Seo Ha’s retreating figure quickly vanishing into the distance, caught in the winter rain.
“This woman, seriously!”
He pushed through the crowd, caught her shoulder firmly—and she jerked away as if he were some criminal, with an utterly bewildered expression.
“Let go! What are you doing?”
“What are *you* doing? It’s pouring rain in this winter cold—where on earth are you going without an umbrella?”
“Don’t you dare cut me off so casually. Who do you think I am, someone who talks politely just because I’ve got a long tongue?”
Yoon Seo Ha shot back fiercely. Kyung Joon could have retaliated just as harshly if he’d wanted—but instead, he simply stood there, staring quietly at Seo Ha.
She was a complete mess. Her hair, soaked through and frozen, was the least of it. Her eye makeup was smudged beyond recognition, whether from rain or tears, and her lips had turned not just pale—but bluish-purple. She looked utterly wretched, unbearable to witness.
“Fine, Yoon Seo Ha.”
Kyung Joon swallowed his frustration and spoke as politely as he could manage.
“Let’s go together, at least for now. If you catch a cold like this, President Kang will be deeply worried.”
“…Mom?”
Mentioning Kang Hae Sun seemed to hit home. Kyung Joon emphasized it once more.
“Yes. Your mother, Yoon Seo Ha.”
Yoon Seo Ha’s mascara-streaked lashes fluttered twice—then suddenly, thick droplets rolled swiftly down her cheeks.
Unlike Kyung Joon, she’d been raised on nothing but love and privilege, living entirely for herself. He’d admittedly wanted to see her flustered or crying—but certainly not like this.
He absolutely did *not* want to witness her silently shedding tears on a rain-drenched street instead of in that convertible with the top down.
“Hey, come on, Yoon Seo Ha.”
Kyung Joon, inexplicably unsettled, hurriedly pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and held it out. Of course, Yoon Seo Ha refused to take it.
“Stop crying already. People will think I made you cry.”
Sure enough, passersby kept stealing sideways glances at them, and Kyung Joon even sensed their disdainful judgment—he felt like trash.
He couldn’t possibly stop each person to explain, “It’s not me! She’s just crying on her own!”—leaving him feeling profoundly wronged.
“Who told you to stay here, Secretary? You should’ve just kept walking where you were going. Go now, quickly—even if it’s late.”
She couldn’t even stop crying, yet her words came out perfectly clear. Kyung Joon clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned away—but before he’d taken even a few steps, nearby whispers of “Look at that” snagged his feet.
“Ah, damn it.”
Helpless, he stomped back over, snatched the umbrella from Yoon Seo Ha’s hand, and thrust it firmly into her grip. While she stood frozen in surprise, he briskly used the handkerchief to shake out her soaked hair and dabbed at her face. At least her appearance improved slightly.
“Use this, at least. Don’t go catching a cold and bothering President Kang.”
“Secretary Ryu.”
Thankfully, Yoon Seo Ha had stopped crying and spoke now in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Could you… not say a word about this to my mom?”
“Fine.”
He hadn’t planned to say anything anyway. Whether Yoon Seo Ha cried on the street or did headspins busking somewhere—what did it matter to him? Even giving her the umbrella instead of pretending not to see felt like an inexplicable, unwelcome intrusion on his part.
Yet Yoon Seo Ha bowed her head with an oddly formal gratitude, as if he’d performed some grand favor.
“Thank you.”
Despite her lips being frozen bluish-purple, she even managed that infuriatingly perfect smile.
His heart thudded in a way that made him irritable. He couldn’t help wondering why this self-important woman was crying so pathetically on the street like this.
If only she’d obediently follow him, he’d even feel like taking her somewhere warm, changing her into dry clothes, and making her a sweet cup of hot chocolate.
What’s wrong with me? What am I even thinking?
Kyung Joon hurried off in the opposite direction before his thoughts grew any more absurd. He barely managed to resist turning back several times.
Soon, Kyung Joon’s tall figure—standing a full head above the crowd—and the billowing hem of his coat vanished among the sea of colorful umbrellas. Seo Ha remained rooted in place, gripping the umbrella still warm from Kyung Joon’s touch, and murmured softly:
“…So embarrassing.”
Of all times, she’d been caught at her absolute lowest. Even worse—embarrassingly so—was the fact that the umbrella he’d handed her offered the tiniest bit of comfort. Her actual husband, Lee Seung Oh, was too busy cheating to even wonder whether she had an umbrella or not.
***
“I got rejected.”
Lee Ji Soo handed over her phone limply. On the screen was the usual rejection message: it began with “Thank you for your application” and ended with “We hope our paths cross again under better circumstances.” Seung Oh sighed inwardly with relief but feigned a sour expression.
“How could you get rejected? Did Yoon Seo Ha deliberately block you?”
“No, Miss isn’t like that. I just wasn’t good enough—that’s all. It’s fine.”
She smiled foolishly, the corners of her eyes crinkling happily—even as tears welled up. At moments like this, he almost wished she’d be more like Seo Ha—sharp-tongued and demanding at every sentence end. Wouldn’t that hurt less?
“I told you to tone down your designs just a bit. I could easily place you in another department myself.”
“But I want to be a designer. Even if I’ll never be as good as Miss…”
“Stop calling her ‘Miss.’ Are you her maid?”
“Well, I *am* her maid. There’s a class difference between Miss and me.”
“We’re not in the Joseon dynasty—what’s this nonsense about social class?”
“Th-there *is* social class in Korea too. Miss is Miss, you’re the young master, and I’m… just a maid.”
Ji Soo tucked her phone back into her handbag. Seung Oh’s face twisted as he looked at the bag—fake leather, glossy and cheap, with a clumsily printed luxury logo.
That bag reminded him vividly of his childhood. His mother used to come home proudly carrying something just like it. Of course, young Seung Oh hadn’t known it was cheap. He might never have learned if Kang Hae Sun hadn’t been horrified.
—“Seung Oh’s mom, where did you get that?”
—“I bought it at the market. The vendor said it was a bargain. Isn’t it pretty?”
—“It’s… pretty, I guess…”
From Kang Hae Sun’s hesitant expression, young Seung Oh understood: the bag wasn’t pretty at all. She clearly disliked it but couldn’t say so outright—caught between pity and a flimsy sense of preserving someone else’s dignity.
—“Look, the stitching here is wrong. This’ll fall apart the moment you put anything in it. I’ll give you a sturdy one instead—please take this back. Everyone knows Seung Oh’s mom is part of our family. If you carry something this shabby, people will talk about me.”
The bag Kang Hae Sun brought out from her dressing room wasn’t made of shiny synthetic vinyl—but of softly gleaming leather.
The vast gulf between Ok Soon, who kept asking if it was really okay to accept such a gift while visibly overjoyed, and Kang Hae Sun, who handed it over with effortless grace and a smile—that gap had been seared into little Seung Oh’s mind like a tattoo.
Ji Soo was right—it *was* a class difference. There probably wasn’t a clearer word to describe it.
That was precisely why Lee Ji Soo had caught his attention from the start. Her whole being radiated that same stubborn, simple-hearted resilience he saw in his mother. Despite being dirt-poor, she was cheerful and spirited—and he felt he absolutely had to protect her.
“I’m losing my mind, seriously.”
Ji Soo overheard his muttered words and shrank back.
“D-did I do something wrong again?”
“Get rid of that bag right now. I’ll buy you a proper one.”
“Huh? No!”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“Is it… not pretty? I won’t carry it out again. Please don’t buy me anything like that, Oppa.”
“It’s your birthday next week. Consider it your birthday gift.”
“Oppaaa…”
She bloomed into a shy, touched smile. Seung Oh chuckled softly and, as the traffic light turned red, gave her forehead a gentle kiss. Instead of Yoon Seo Ha’s usual refined perfume, a fresh, soapy scent tickled his nose.
But wait—how would he even buy the gift?
Yoon Seo Ha controlled all household finances. Withdrawing even a few hundred thousand won from their account was unimaginable, and using his personal credit card would inevitably lead to an immediate interrogation when the statement arrived.
His corporate card was no better. If a luxury boutique purchase showed up, it would cause an even bigger scandal than his personal card ever would.
“But I have nothing to give you in return, Oppa. How can I just keep accepting things?”
Ji Soo asked cautiously, her drooping voice somehow still charming.
“Nothing to give? What’s for dinner tonight?”
“I made sundubu-jjigae. Added clams and cheongyang peppers.”
“Spicy?”
“Super spicy—and really refreshing.”
He’d never once gotten breakfast from Yoon Seo Ha. She was the kind of princess who thought she’d collapse without a housekeeper—and bought even her underwear from department stores. He’d never dared ask her to cook for him.
But Ji Soo was different. She didn’t even know how to be extravagant—she shopped at markets instead of big supermarkets and always accommodated him in everything.
These days, Seung Oh’s happiest moments were finishing the dinner table Ji Soo lovingly prepared, sipping a cup of instant coffee with a slice of apple she brought as dessert, and exchanging sweet, affectionate chatter.
Today was no different. After enjoying a delicious, hearty sundubu-jjigae at Ji Soo’s place, they watched TV on the sofa. The mood carried them to bed, and after their passionate time together, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms—only for him to wake in the early hours.
Leaving reluctantly, he crept back home—only to find it eerily silent, like a graveyard. As he opened the dressing room door to change clothes, a clever idea suddenly struck him.
“Wow, there’s so much stuff here.”
One entire side of the dressing room—far larger than Ji Soo’s living room—was filled with bags and shoes on display.
Seung Oh opened the built-in closet and dragged out every single bag box he could find. Most were items Seo Ha had used only once or twice before stashing away for various reasons.
“She really has no sense of limits. Doesn’t even know the value of money.”
While grumbling about Seo Ha’s extravagance and opening box after box, Seung Oh spotted a familiar item.
“So it was here.”
Yoon Seo Ha had probably forgotten this even existed.
Seung Oh carefully placed the bag back in its box and hid it in a corner of his study—so he could dramatically pull it out and present it as Ji Soo’s birthday gift.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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