What Kind of Husband Was I?

Back in her room, Chaeyoon squared her shoulders and tried to act tough. She hadn't run away. She simply hadn't wanted Taejun to see her looking so pathetic.

Even when she'd asked for a divorce, she had refused to let him see her worn down and miserable any longer than she had to.

Still, she couldn't help feeling rattled, and as she stood there forcing herself to hold it together, a knock sounded and the door swung open.

Taejun stepped into the room. Chaeyoon rose from the bed to meet him.

"Y-you're... you're here."

Instead of answering, Taejun gave a small nod, pulled out a chair at the tea table, and sat down.

Neither of them spoke. An awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

It was an unfamiliar scene. At this hour, her husband would normally still be at the office. Even when he did come home, she was used to him shutting himself in his study—sitting across from him like this felt strange and stilted.

"So... you're home early."

Chaeyoon offered awkwardly.

"Are you not feeling well? Or—no, wait, have you had dinner yet?"

Flustered by the awkwardness, she began firing off questions one after another. But Taejun only stared at her, giving no answer.

Ah, right. He doesn't remember that I'm his wife.

No wonder this felt strange for him too.

"If I'm making you uncomfortable, I can use a different room for a while."

"What kind of husband was I?"

Chaeyoon's eyes went wide at the sudden question. She had never imagined she'd be having this kind of conversation with Taejun. It had always been her doing the begging—let's talk for a minute.

Are you busy?

Can we talk for just a second?

Anything planned this weekend?

Asking, reaching out, wanting—that had always been her part, never his. And more often than not, the answer that came back was no. Somewhere along the way, Chaeyoon had grown used to rejection, and eventually she'd stopped speaking to him altogether.

And yet, here he was...

"Why do you ask?"

She asked back, puzzled. Losing his memory hadn't changed who he was. Moon Taejun was still Moon Taejun.

"Because I don't remember what kind of husband I was."

"......"

"A good one? A tender one? A bad one? Or the worst kind of all?"

Come to think of it, she had never once stopped to consider what kind of husband Taejun actually was.

In the beginning, she'd missed him desperately, wanted to be with him every moment. Then, at some point, all she felt was hurt and disappointment, day after day. Those feelings piled up and piled up until she finally broke, and she decided on divorce.

His indifference and thoughtlessness weren't the only reasons she'd decided to leave—but it was true that Taejun was the one who had shattered her heart.

"What kind of husband would you have wanted me to be?"

Chaeyoon asked quietly in return. On the eve of their divorce, the question meant nothing anymore. And yet she still wanted to ask it.

What kind of husband did you want to become?

Taejun was silent for a moment. Then, as if the silence itself were suffocating him, he loosened his tie.

He had never thought about it. Not once. He'd never planned on marrying anyone in the first place. And yet he had married, and become a husband. Looking at himself now, Taejun felt pathetic.

To have married without ever giving it a thought. He'd been irresponsible beyond words.

"A tender, good husband."

"......"

In that instant, Chaeyoon nearly burst into tears. She had fallen for Taejun at first sight and set her heart on marrying him, but the truth was, neither of them had really known much about the other.

Everything had happened at breakneck speed.

She was the one who confessed; Taejun was the one who accepted. And just like that, the two of them became husband and wife.

Now that she thought about it, Chaeyoon realized she had never considered what kind of wife she should be, either.

She'd simply fallen for the face of a man named Moon Taejun and wanted nothing more than to be by his side.

And so every single day, all she'd done was ask. Spending time with me, that's all.

Ah... The rims of her eyes flushed red without her noticing.

Only now did she see it. She had spent so long telling herself she was the one who went unloved—when in truth, she had never once tried to understand him.

She couldn't bring herself to say he'd been a cold husband. Couldn't say he'd never cared about her.

Why was she only realizing this now? She felt utterly foolish, pathetic.

If she had understood even a little sooner, she never would have demanded a divorce.

And then Taejun would never have collapsed and lost his memory. Somehow, it felt as though all of this misfortune had sprung from her.

The one small mercy was that he still remembered everything else—his family, the company, all of it.

So why was she the only thing his mind had let go of?

Was I just... unnecessary to him, somewhere deep down?

"What kind of wife do you think I was?"

The question spilled out of her on impulse.

"I'd like to hear your answer to my question first."

She might have been imagining it, but Taejun looked like a man waiting for that one answer and nothing else.

Maybe that was why.

"A tender, good husband... I think that's what you were."

Only after the words left her mouth did her chest grow heavy and tight.

But she would have been glad if that was the kind of husband he'd been.

"You weren't the type to fuss over our time together. You were always so busy. But there were things you never failed to do. No matter how late you came home, you always hugged me. You kissed my forehead while I slept."

Come to think of it, Taejun had always done that. However deep into the night he crawled into bed, he would hold her, or press his lips to her forehead. And if her eyes happened to open, the kiss would deepen, and they'd reach for each other.

Only now were those small gestures of his beginning to come into view. There had never been enough, and she had always felt the emptiness—but there had been so many nights like that, too. Chaeyoon lifted her eyes and looked at him straight on.

Dark circles shadowed the corners of his eyes; he looked exhausted. She found herself worrying whether he'd eaten dinner.

"Have you had din—"

"A lovely, beautiful wife."

"......"

"I think that's what Yoon Chaeyoon was."

Something surged up in her chest. She had never heard words like those before. No—she had never even allowed herself to hope Taejun might say them.

And yet that one blurted sentence shook Chaeyoon to her core. Every grievance she'd carried against him seemed to melt away like snow.

All that, from a single sentence.

Suddenly her vision swam. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, one after another. Chaeyoon wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before she even realized she was crying.

She bit down hard, determined not to make a sound. That was when Taejun rose from his seat.

Sitting down beside her, he pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry I don't remember."

In the end, Chaeyoon broke down and sobbed loudly in his embrace. How long did she cry? At last, hiccupping, she managed to stop. She had never anticipated a turn like this, and she was so flustered she hardly knew what to do with herself.

She had decided she would divorce him the moment his memory returned—but somehow, the Taejun who had come back with that memory erased seemed a little different.

Grrrowl. At that exact moment, her stomach let out an unmistakable growl. Taejun quietly studied her reddened face, her eyes sore and puffy from crying.

"Ah... that is... I haven't had dinner yet."

I went up to my room. Ate dinner.

It had been a lie. She'd known she was something of an ugly duckling in this house.

Her husband had been the ugly duckling, after all.

But she never imagined anyone would be petty enough to pull a stunt over food.

"Get dressed."

"Why?"

"We're going out for something delicious. You said it's before dinner, right?"

"I haven't even showered."

"You're beautiful. If it bothers you, just wear a hat or something."

Taejun stood first and held out his hand. It was a first—for him to extend his hand to her, and for him to suggest they have dinner together.

Chaeyoon wanted to take that hand.

"Let's go."

She took it. And the two of them left the house together. The next morning, they sat side by side at the breakfast table.

Taejun's entire family was seated around it. They kept stealing glances at Chaeyoon beside him.

"Why is that thing at my table?"

Just then, Moon Daeshik appeared, belated and bellowing. That one sentence turned the air at the table hostile in an instant.