True Marriage After Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3

“Divorce isn’t something just anyone does.”

Jae Hyuk roughly ran his fingers through his hair. Frustrated, he loosened and tossed aside the tie he’d been wearing.

Ah Rin’s eyes darkened deeply.

“This isn’t an infertility clinic. Then I really don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Stop this and just talk to me.”

Each of his words cut her like a wound.

“Did you really not know?”

She had openly shown she wanted him to understand.

“You never said anything. How could I know if you didn’t say it?”

Though he was right—he’d never explicitly said it—she had begged him with her whole body to understand.

The conclusion remained the same. Ban Jae Hyuk had absolutely no interest in Choi Ah Rin. He knew nothing about her. No, he hadn’t even tried to know.

Ah Rin’s heart, which had burned hot all this time, completely turned cold.

Just then—

“Ah Rin.”

Her heart dropped heavily.

He’d never once called her “Ah Rin” affectionately until now…

Why did he have to call her so tenderly at the very end, just to shake her resolve?

She knew she shouldn’t resent him, yet Ah Rin couldn’t help but feel betrayed that he was still trying to unsettle her until the very last moment.

Every time the pregnancy test came back negative, she had to endure Madam Jeong’s scolding, walk on eggshells around Jae Hyuk, and bear the humiliation and contempt from her in-laws.

But the hardest part was the look of disdain and hatred in the eyes of the man she loved. Each small word and action piled up, leaving wounds that would never fade.

If you’re never going to give me love, then why won’t you just let me go?

You don’t need me as your shield anymore.

So just leave me, that’s all you have to do.

Then why…?

[Don’t look at anything, don’t listen to anything, don’t do anything. Just stay right where you are.]

That was what Jae Hyuk had told her before their marriage.

“I don’t have time.”

After checking the time, Jae Hyuk continued.

“Ha, fine. If you don’t want to talk now, we’ll talk later.”

There would be no “later.” It had to end now.

Ah Rin spoke.

“I’m tired of hearing apologies. It’s exhausting always worrying about what others think. I just want to live like a human being now.”

She no longer wanted to live a life that killed her sense of self.

Since their marriage, Ah Rin had never once called him “Oppa.”

But this was the end—and to show him that what she was saying now came from her heart—

“So let’s stop hurting each other, Oppa. Let’s just stop, okay? Both of us.”

For the first time since their marriage, Ah Rin called Jae Hyuk “Oppa.” Her words left his expression subtly unreadable.

“Fine, I get it. But divorce is out of the question.”

“Oppa.”

“…Don’t you start this too.”

Jae Hyuk avoided Ah Rin’s gaze.

“Cool off for now. We’ll talk later.”

Turning away from her, he deliberately picked up the divorce papers she’d thrown on the floor, ripped them to shreds, and tossed them into the trash bin right before her eyes.

“I’ll tell Mother we’re having lunch together tomorrow. Go out and clear your head. Don’t worry about money.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear what you just said. I’ll be back.”

Jae Hyuk turned and walked away without ever looking back.

So he never saw the expression on her face as she listened to his words, never saw how her slender shoulders trembled, never saw the countless wounds on her lips—bitten fiercely to hold back tears.

[This is the timeline separator]

The moment Jae Hyuk left, Ah Rin collapsed right where she stood.

Memories of Jae Hyuk slowly surfaced in her mind, one by one.

[Happy birthday, Ah Rin.]

On her 10th birthday—the birthday even her parents didn’t celebrate—Jae Hyuk had been the first person in her life to wish her happy birthday.

[Ah Rin, will you marry me when we grow up?]

At 14, during a miserable summer when no one in her family gave her love, he was the first to share feelings with her and promise her a future.

[I’ll… figure something out. Don’t cry too much, okay?]

Four years ago, when her father was expelled for allegedly stealing from Chairman Ban, Jae Hyuk chased after her and held her cheeks as he said those words.

She’d never actually dated Jae Hyuk, but deep down, Ah Rin had always believed that when the time came, he would come for her.

Even though he never contacted her after that day, she still waited—believing he would return.

“Oppa… Jae Hyuk Oppa.”

But when they met again, no one smiled at her with genuine warmth.

[If all you want is money, I’ll give you as much as you need. Just don’t expect love from me. Live like a doll. Don’t desire anything.]

It had all been her misunderstanding from the start.

She was the only one who’d cherished him as a man; perhaps to Jae Hyuk, she was just someone he pitied—or merely a younger acquaintance. Even their talk of marriage had been nothing more than childish play.

His kindness had never been that of a man toward a woman.

“It’s over. Everything’s over now. You already knew… that there’s someone you love…”

Beneath her lowered face, a large puddle formed. She covered her tear-streaked face with both small hands.

In that lonely place where no one understood her… Ah Rin cried alone.

[This is the timeline separator]

Late at night, Jae Hyuk left his parents’ house and got into the waiting car.

“Head to Poles.”

“Yes, sir.”

Poles was a members-only establishment.

Jae Hyuk had a gathering with fellow third-generation chaebol heirs scheduled for today. Though it seemed like leisure, it was, in truth, an extension of work—networking disguised as socializing.

Earlier that morning, Jae Hyuk had called his mother, Madam Jeong, who had just left for a trip to Namhae with friends.

[Oh, son.]

Madam Jeong’s warm voice came through the speaker.

[You said you were home. Going out again already?]

“Yes.”

[If you’re so busy, why bother coming home at all? It’s such a hassle.]

Jae Hyuk had been swamped—ever since his father, Chairman Ban, fell seriously ill, he’d taken over as de facto head of the group, and even 24 hours a day wasn’t enough.

Yet despite that, he’d come home today simply because Ah Rin’s voice had sounded off last night.

A headache surged, and he pressed hard against his temples.

Unaware of her son’s state of mind, Madam Jeong spoke cheerfully, almost humming.

But only for a moment.

“Tomorrow, I’ll have Ah Rin join me for lunch.”

[…Why?]

At Jae Hyuk’s words, Madam Jeong’s voice turned icy.

“Why what? Do I need your permission to invite my own wife to lunch?”

Madam Jeong’s voice trembled faintly through the speaker.

[Oh, no, son. Why so sensitive? Mom was just curious—why suddenly have lunch together?]

Jae Hyuk frowned at his mother’s words.

It was highly likely Madam Jeong had something to do with Ah Rin’s recent behavior. He felt it best to issue a warning.

“Mother.”

[Yes? Oh, yes.]

“You haven’t forgotten the promise you made me before my marriage, have you?”

[What?]

“My willingness to go along with your wishes is entirely conditional on you honoring that promise.”

[O-of course. I know.]

“Then why did you go to the hospital? Didn’t you promise to tell me beforehand if you ever took her to the hospital?”

Flustered by his question, Madam Jeong stammered.

[Oh, no—it’s just that Dr. Kim suddenly had a conference, so the appointment changed last minute. You don’t seriously think I took her without telling you, do you?]

“Don’t you dare touch Ah Rin behind my back. It doesn’t matter whether or not there’s a child.”

[What do you mean ‘doesn’t matter’? You two are the issue! You’re the heir to VAN Group—how can I not get involved?]

Madam Jeong replied sharply. Jae Hyuk’s voice, however, remained firm.

“Before being VAN Group’s heir, that child would be ours.”

[Ban Jae Hyuk.]

“And infertility isn’t only Ah Rin’s issue—it’s mine too.”

[What? What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with you. And regarding grandchildren…]

Convinced her words weren’t worth listening to any longer, Jae Hyuk cut her off.

“There is something wrong. So if you take Ah Rin to the hospital again, I’ll go for treatment too.”

[Son, you can’t be serious—]

“Then just leave Ah Rin alone. Unless you’d rather everyone find out that the infertility issue lies with your own son as well.”

[If you really do this, don’t think I’ll stay quiet.]

Madam Jeong’s shrill voice pierced through the speaker, making his head throb even harder.

“Have you forgotten why I go along with your whims?”

[…]

“It’s only because you’ve kept your word—not revealing that Mr. Choi and his wife aren’t Ah Rin’s real parents. If you’re the first to break that promise, I won’t have much choice either.”

At Jae Hyuk’s words, Madam Jeong was furious.

But her anger wasn’t directed at her son. More than resenting Jae Hyuk for acting as if he didn’t know his own mother, she blamed Ah Rin for causing this mess.

[Are you really treating your mother—who raised you with so much effort—this way over some insignificant woman?]

Jae Hyuk ground his teeth at his mother’s words.

“Some insignificant woman?”

Choi Ah Rin was the only woman in Ban Jae Hyuk’s life—the only woman who had naturally been by his side for as long as he could remember.

His childhood proposal to Ah Rin had never been just an idle joke.

He hated Ah Rin, yet he loved her—and precisely because of that, he couldn’t let her go.

“I’ve told you clearly, Mother. Don’t you dare shake Ah Rin’s resolve when I’m not around.”

[Jae Hyuk, you really—]

“I have a schedule. I’m hanging up.”

[Wait, Jae Hyuk—]

Beep. Beep.

Jae Hyuk ended the call.

As his disconnected phone kept ringing insistently, Jae Hyuk switched it off completely.

“Haaah.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Jae Hyuk splashed cold water on his face. Leaning back and closing his eyes, Ah Rin’s voice echoed in his mind.

[Oppa, I love you. Can’t you just love me a little?]

It had been past dawn when he finally returned home after a long night of entertaining clients. Without realizing it, his steps toward his study diverted to Ah Rin’s bedroom. When he sat on the edge of her bed, Ah Rin—half-asleep as if she’d been waiting—curled into him.

Thump. His heart sank.

Love? He already loved her madly.

I love you so desperately—then why do you say these things to me?

That day, her tearful, trembling voice as she clung to him had felt like his heart was being torn apart.

[Please don’t hate me too much. You’re misunderstanding something. I want to have your child because I want us to become a real family.]

The next day, Ah Rin remembered nothing of what had happened the night before. And neither before nor after that moment did she ever again bare her heart to him.

But from that day on, Jae Hyuk changed deeply inside. His lingering doubts about Ah Rin’s feelings finally settled.

He became absolutely certain that Choi Ah Rin could never leave Ban Jae Hyuk—that her love for him was unwavering.

Since he loved her, and she loved him, he decided there was meaning enough just in being together—for now.

The reason was simple: his feelings for her were far too complicated to be reduced to just “love.”

Wasn’t it said that love and hate are separated by only a sheet of paper?

Jae Hyuk loved Ah Rin—but at the same time, he hated her.

He recalled his conversation with Madam Jeong three years ago.

[Marriage? To whom?][To Ah Rin.] [Ah Rin…?] [Yes. Remember I told you? Master Cheon said that according to the birth chart of the woman destined to be your wife, he could see whether she’d bear children.]

Jae Hyuk knew better than anyone how deeply his mother believed in superstitions. She’d even brought talismans written by that so-called Master Cheon to the hospital and performed odd rituals right outside the operating room on the very day of her husband’s surgery.

[So I casually mentioned it, and somehow Yoon Kyung Suk heard about it. That woman actually went to Master Cheon and showed him her daughter’s birth chart—I don’t even know what she did.]

Yoon Kyung Suk was Ah Rin’s mother.

Though Jae Hyuk found his mother’s story puzzling, he dismissed the nagging questions in his head—superstitions were always vague anyway.

[She even offered to bear a child for us—if we paid her.]

His heart dropped in shock.