“Before she got sick, there were some issues between my mother and father. Of course, over time, it was revealed that it was a misunderstanding.”
“So, did you tidy up everything like photos at that time?”
“That’s right. Except for the portrait photo used at the funeral, there were no remaining pictures. But after the funeral, my maternal grandmother took them away.”
“So… there were no photos of your mother.”
Realizing that he couldn’t have a single photo of his mother, Eun-soo’s voice slowed down as she pitied him.
“Because of that, there were times when I resented my father. Why did he take away the chance for me to remember my mother by believing in such an absurd misunderstanding?”
“I don’t know what happened, but when your father realized it was a misunderstanding, he must have been much more devastated than you, Hyuk-joo.”
“That’s probably true.”
Hyuk-joo nodded slowly.
Eun-soo’s words were accurate. That’s why his father had continued to live in hell even now because of that incident.
‘For me, she said, “See many good things, live a fun life, and come back. Hyuk-joo, get married, have children, and watch them grow up. Live for a long, long time and come to meet yourself.”‘
Mother left those words as a testament to Father, urging him to live a long and fulfilling life. To honor that, Father had been enduring and persevering until now. After learning about this, Hyuk-joo decided not to resent his father anymore.
“So, I promised not to create regrets… but I made such a mistake.”
Holding Eun-soo’s hand tightly, Hyuk-joo spoke.
“I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Do you know that constantly hearing apologies can be tiring?”
Eun-soo didn’t want to dwell on the past. Living attached to the past was less important than the present and the future starting from now.
“So instead of saying sorry, I want to say thank you.”
Eun-soo brightened up with Hyuk-joo’s words. With her gentle smile, Hyuk-joo confessed with an awkward voice.
“I’m thankful for discovering things I didn’t know, and I’m grateful for experiencing emotions I didn’t realize before. If it weren’t for you, I would have lived without knowing both big and small happiness until I died.”
Hyuk-joo gently touched Eun-soo’s cheek, and his lips curved beautifully in response to the soft and warm touch.
Just moments ago, he was shaken by anger due to overwhelming loss and despair. Seo Yeon-ji had exploited his deceased mother and deceived him. She had hidden the ‘real child’ he was searching for somewhere.
As he reflected on his foolish past, self-loathing tortured him. But the moment he saw Eun-soo’s face, his troubled heart found comfort.
Give back as much as received, or even more.
That thought firmly engraved itself in his mind.
“Hyuk-joo, your hands smell like lotion.”
Eun-soo wrinkled her nose and commented, diverting Hyuk-joo from his thoughts.
“Does it smell a lot?”
Hyuk-joo urgently withdrew the hand that was touching Eun-soo’s cheek and sniffed his own hand. However, there was no scent coming from it.
He had washed his hands several times; it was natural. Yet, judging by Eun-soo’s comment, it seemed her sense of smell had become quite sensitive.
“Your hand brushed against my nose, and for a moment, I felt a faint scent.”
“I should have washed more.”
“I like the scent. It’s like the one from baby lotion…”
Eun-soo chuckled as she thought about the fragrance she had smelled from Hyuk-joo’s hands. It was a faint, warm, and soft scent reminiscent of baby lotion.
“It’s baby lotion.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. On the way here, I passed a baby supply store. Unconsciously, my feet led me there, so I took a quick look around.”
“Alone?”
Eun-soo’s eyes, questioning, held a hint of reproach. Seeing her face, Hyuk-joo quickly amended his statement.
“Let’s go together soon.”
“When?”
“…Now?”
If they didn’t leave right away, it seemed Eun-soo’s resentment wouldn’t easily disappear. As expected, the moment she heard the word ‘now,’ a smile appeared on Eun-soo’s face.
Detective Jo Seong-han, who had entered the gallery with a composed expression, twisted his face as if he had seen something unbearable.
Calling that a painting?
On the white canvas, various colors were haphazardly splattered, resembling a child’s mistake with spilled paint.
Seong-han despised what was commonly referred to as contemporary art.
It wasn’t a painting, and it felt like a joke that wealthy people were making money from something one couldn’t understand the artist’s intention for.
“Hey, Prosecutor Jo!”
At the voice calling him, Seong-han turned his head around.
Yoon Tae-jin, who had once worked in the same prosecutor’s office, was approaching. He was Seong-han’s senior from the same high school and university.
Since school days, there had been rumors that he was sponsored by a major corporation to prepare for the judicial examination.
Even now, he seemed obsessed with revealing the fact that he was a prosecutor wherever he went, enjoying the admiring glances people gave when they heard the word ‘prosecutor.’
Currently, the use of the title ‘pro’ among prosecutors had caused people in the gallery to glance in their direction.
“What’s up with Prosecutor Jo?”
“It’s too formal. You’re supposed to call a prosecutor ‘pro.’ What else should I call you if you don’t like it, Your Excellency?”
“I came to see the painting. So, Senior, go and enjoy the paintings too.”
“He came from Sokcho, so maybe he’s a bit stiff. But the stubbornness is still intact.”
“I have a neck disc, so I have to keep my neck stiff. That’s why.”
Seong-han raised his hand to his neck. Having dropped enough hints that he was annoyed, Yoon Tae-jin seemed oblivious and showed no intention of leaving.
“Hey, did you come here to check on me?”
Glancing around, Yoon Tae-jin asked in a whisper.
It seemed strange for someone who wasn’t interested in such places to be in the gallery.
I shouldn’t be caught by that guy.
“Oh, Director Lee.”
As Seong-han hesitated for a moment, suddenly Yoon Tae-jin bowed slightly.
“How have you been during this time?”
Seeing Yoon Tae-jin greet her, flames momentarily flickered in Seong-han’s eyes. Moon Young-ran was approaching.
Although he knew well who Moon Young-ran was, Seong-han pretended not to know and deliberately feigned ignorance.
“What are you doing? Not even greeting.”
“Who are you?”
While Seong-han knew who Moon Young-ran was, he pretended not to, and she played along.
“It’s Director Lee, the chairman of the Myeongjin Foundation and the gallery director here.”
“Oh, really?”
Seong-han moved only his head without a word of greeting.
Momentarily, Seong-han felt a twitch in his smooth face as he faced Moon Young-ran’s disdainful gaze, which seemed to say he was an arrogant child. However, Seong-han didn’t back down. After all, this person would soon be in his hands.
“My junior here lacks manners a bit. Director, please understand generously.”
“Ah, Yoon, the prosecutor’s junior?”
Moon Young-ran looked at Seong-han and immediately tilted her head. Wearing an expression that seemed like she was trying to recall something, she spoke.
“Your face looks familiar. Do I know you?”
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
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