True Marriage After Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 11

“You miss me? Did you just say you miss me right now?”

She was furious and resentful. The more she had loved him, the more she couldn’t forget him—and the more she hated Jae Hyuk for it.

Ah Rin pushed hard against Jae Hyuk’s chest. The white musk scent lingering near her nose drifted away.

She roughly wiped her eyes and glared at Jae Hyuk with all her might. A hoarse, broken voice escaped her lips.

“Don’t ever come back.”

“Ah Rin.”

“Don’t come back. Just seeing your face is torment for me. If you show up again, I’ll run away somewhere you, Ban Jae Hyuk, can never find me.”

Ah Rin brushed past Jae Hyuk and opened the shop door.

“Please leave.”

“…….”

He stood perfectly still, gazing at her with a wistful, aching look.

Ah Rin raised her voice even louder.

“Should I call the police? Will you leave only if I do that?”

“……I’ll go.”

Not wanting to see Jae Hyuk approaching her slowly, Ah Rin sharply turned her head away.

‘This isn’t right, Choi Ah Rin. Get a grip. You’re supposed to hate that man.’

Longing? Love?

The storm of emotions swirling inside her couldn’t be pinned down to just one feeling.

Standing before Ah Rin, Jae Hyuk spoke in a desperate voice, as if grasping at his last chance.

“I’m sorry. I know how selfish I am. But I can’t give you a divorce, and I can’t promise I won’t come looking for you again.”

“Do whatever you want. If you’re going to act however you please, then so will I.”

At Ah Rin’s sharp words, Jae Hyuk clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. His broad shoulders trembled.

“I’ll keep searching for you no matter where you run to. Call me selfish if you want, say whatever you like. I know it’s far too late—I know it might be impossible to win you back, no matter what I do. Still.”

“Really……”

When she lifted her head, their eyes met.

Ah Rin couldn’t continue speaking at the sight of Jae Hyuk’s expression—one she’d never seen before.

Right now, he genuinely looked like he regretted everything from the past.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Choi Ah Rin.’

Ah Rin squeezed her fists tightly.

“……I’ll go.”

Leaving those final words behind, Jae Hyuk passed Ah Rin and walked out of the shop.

Ah Rin turned around. Through the window, she saw Jae Hyuk walking listlessly toward his car parked on the street in front of the café.

Before opening the back door, Jae Hyuk turned around. Startled, Ah Rin quickly hid herself behind the door.

His gaze remained fixed for a moment. Then, after a short pause, he got into the car.

Vroom. The engine roared to life.

At the sound, Ah Rin rushed outside impulsively.

She didn’t understand why her feet moved on their own. Without thinking, she opened the door and stepped out.

But Jae Hyuk’s car was already gone. Ah Rin stared blankly after the spot where he had disappeared.

“Haa….”

She sank weakly onto the ground.

“You’re insane, Choi Ah Rin. Are you still not over him?”

She buried her face in her hands. Hot tears streamed endlessly down her pale cheeks.

Why did you even come back?

Why! Seriously, why!

“You jerk.”

When I gave you love, you ignored it—then why shake me like this?

“If only you’d treated me well when I was by your side.”

Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt this much……

Maybe our child would’ve been healthy and alive like other kids……

Useless, futile regrets surged over her.

Ah Rin wrapped her arms around her flat stomach—the womb already emptied of its owner.

‘I shouldn’t have had to let you go like this.’

She’d realized it far too late.

Her stomach showed no sign of pregnancy at all, and she’d been told natural conception was nearly impossible.

Her periods had always been irregular, so she’d assumed missing one was just due to stress.

Then one day—

[It’s a miscarriage.]

The doctor’s words made Ah Rin feel as though she’d fallen into an abyss.

She desperately wanted to believe it was a mistake, that this was all just a dream. But the doctor’s voice was firm.

[A woman’s body treats miscarriage and childbirth the same. I recommend you stay hospitalized for a few days so we can monitor your condition before discharge.]

It was all an inescapable reality.

After that, living became hell.

She was swallowed whole by guilt over the child who’d left without ever seeing the light.

She hated Jae Hyuk. She hated Madam Jeong. But most of all, she despised herself beyond measure.

[I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I was such a useless mom.]

One day, as she was drowning in overwhelming regret,

she collapsed, unconscious.

When Ah Rin awoke in the hospital, Ji Yoon and Madam Seo—Ji Yoon’s mother—were beside her, sobbing uncontrollably, clutching her hand.

They told her that someone had seen her walking toward the water in that pitch-black darkness, jumped in after her, and rushed her to the ER.

Madam Seo added that the person had vanished without leaving a phone number or any information.

The first thought that came to Ah Rin’s mind when she opened her eyes was despair.

‘I survived. Even though I don’t deserve to.’

But soon after, she regretted that thought.

[Ah Rin, please live. Can’t you just stay with me and Mom forever? Please cherish your life—for our sake, if not your own?]

Ji Yoon had cried so hard she could barely breathe as she spoke those words. In that moment, Ah Rin snapped back to reality.

Maybe it was because she realized someone was crying for her.

Strangely, from that day on, her mindset began to shift bit by bit.

‘Mommy will live extra hard for your share too.’

She would live. More diligently. Without laziness.

Ah Rin decided to live with the guilt toward her child etched deep in her heart. But it still wasn’t easy. For three years, she endured—collapsing over and over again every time she thought of her child, yet somehow getting back up again.

His reappearance once again shattered the fragile dam she’d barely managed to rebuild.

“What did you come here for? Regret? Apologies? Don’t make me laugh.”

Memories flooded her mind—the loss of her child three years ago, Madam Jeong treating her as less than human, and Jae Hyuk constantly coldly shutting her out.

[This is the timeline separator]

‘You already knew she wouldn’t welcome you. Be grateful she even listened to you at all. Ah Rin can’t help but hate you.’

As soon as Jae Hyuk got into the car after parting from Ah Rin, he slumped against the seat and closed his eyes. Strangely, with his eyes shut, Ah Rin’s face became even clearer in his mind.

Being hated was far more agonizing and painful than he’d imagined. Yet he had no right to resent it—his wounds to her ran far deeper.

Overwhelmed by bitter regret, Jae Hyuk’s heart surged with anguish.

‘I shouldn’t be complaining about this much pain. No—that’s greedy of me too, Ban Jae Hyuk. What have you even done? You suffered for barely ten minutes. Ah Rin suffered for so long because of you. So this much…’

He had to endure it.

Thinking back to that night three years ago, Jae Hyuk bit down hard on his lower lip.

Not long after discovering where she was, he’d seen Ah Rin walking into pitch-black darkness—and without thinking, he’d run after her.

If he hadn’t been there that day… Just imagining it was horrifying.

He’d seen her walking unsteadily toward the night sea, its waves crashing violently, and his body moved before his mind could catch up.

He’d wanted to fly to her if he could—his only thought was saving Ah Rin, even if it cost him his life.

‘Only after leaving did I realize it was love.’

It was a cliché from ordinary dramas and novels.

Jae Hyuk was no different. Only after losing her did he finally understand his feelings for her.

But the true realization struck him when he’d pulled unconscious Ah Rin from the water and held her cold body in his arms.

Along with a sigh of relief came something far heavier and deeper:

‘That Ban Jae Hyuk loved Choi Ah Rin far more than his own life. That Ban Jae Hyuk couldn’t live without Choi Ah Rin.’

It was a truth he grasped only after everything he’d taken for granted had vanished.

While Ah Rin slept in the hospital, he’d had a brief chance to protect her. Cowardly, he’d held her hand and whispered for a long time.

[Ah Rin, I really love you so much.] [I’m sorry for throwing tantrums and acting like a child. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you properly when I had the chance.]

Words he knew he didn’t deserve to say to her. He saw them as an eternal sin he’d carry for life.

Why do humans always do things they’ll regret?

Ever since then, whenever he had free time, he’d gone to Jeju Island. But not once had he shown himself to Ah Rin.

The first year after she left him was spent circling her from afar. Watching her crumble so utterly, he couldn’t bring himself to step forward.

He knew his presence would only make things harder for her.

Through small acts—like helping her shop—he tried to atone, yet felt nothing but self-loathing for his cowardice, even as his guilt eased slightly.

And gradually, greed grew within him.

If only he could have one more chance—even if it meant spending a lifetime’s worth of luck, just once.

He wanted to stand beside Ah Rin again.

So today, he appeared before her.

Her reaction wasn’t much different from what he’d expected.

Still, it was enough. Simply seeing Ah Rin up close warmed his hollow heart intensely.

‘She seems to have gained a bit of weight since I last saw her. It’s good—she must’ve been eating well these past few days.’

Ah Rin had said seeing him made it hard to breathe, but for Jae Hyuk, just looking at her made breathing possible again.

The faint floral scent around his nose—her natural scent, not perfume—made his frozen heart beat rapidly.

At that fragrance, warmth returned to his body, which had felt dead until now. He felt alive.

His long-dead heart stirred restlessly.

Of course Ah Rin hated him.

It was the price he paid for selfishly taking her endless love for granted.

‘But I still… love you.’

“Ah Rin…”

Just as he exhaled her name—the name that made his heart feel like it would burst—

his carelessly placed phone vibrated.

“Hah.”

It was annoying.

Without checking the caller, Jae Hyuk turned his phone off. Immediately after, Director Han’s phone on the driver’s seat rang. The moving car pulled over to the roadside.

“Yes? Ah, yes.”

Then Jae Hyuk heard Director Han’s awkward voice in his ear.

When Jae Hyuk opened his eyes, they met Director Han’s, who was looking at him with an uneasy expression.

“What’s wrong?”

At Jae Hyuk’s question, Director Han pulled the phone slightly from his ear and whispered in a very low voice.

“……It’s Madam Ban.”

Jae Hyuk’s eyes widened sharply as he stared at Director Han, baffled.

Through the speaker, a shrill female voice echoed out.

“Vice Chairman, I know you’re in Jeju—tell them to turn the car around.”

“Hah.”

Only Director Han and his secretaries knew he’d come to Jeju today; the trip had been top secret.

That his mother knew his whereabouts meant someone close to him might have leaked the information. Jae Hyuk bit his lip in anger.

‘Was there someone loose-lipped around me? Surely she’s not investigating flight records too.’

But Jae Hyuk didn’t want to suspect his trusted secretaries. Besides, he knew better than anyone that his own mother would stop at nothing—even illegal means—to keep tabs on him.

‘No… Mother would absolutely investigate thoroughly and then some.’

A bitter laugh escaped Jae Hyuk at Madam Jeong, who still couldn’t break her old habits even after all that had happened.

“Mother, you really are an incredible woman.”