The Uninvited Aunt

Jaein returned from the hospital and punched in the doorlock code with her heart thudding nervously.

Because Taeha insisted on moving in, she had deliberately spent the weekend at Jiyoung's hospital room to avoid him.

Thank goodness I had studio shooting to do this weekend.

Cameras were being installed today, with filming starting immediately after, so she'd spent the weekend wrapping up the pre-interviews. Hers had been a solo interview.

Which meant she hadn't had to run into Taeha at the studio at all. A small mercy.

There's no way he's home at this hour, right?

Seeing that it was past nine in the morning, Jaein headed up to the parking garage.

The odds are in my favor, at least.

Taeha kept his work hours with surgical precision, so the chances were slim. It had only been two days since he'd declared, bold as brass, that they'd be living under one roof. Even to herself, the whole thing was absurd.

Stepping carefully inside, Jaein let out a breath of relief at the empty living room. She sank onto the sofa and fiddled with her phone.

PD Seo, we're almost there.

After checking the message from the shooting team's director, Jaein rose from the sofa and headed toward the bedroom. Passing through it into the connected walk-in closet, her eyes landed on Taeha's clothes, arranged in immaculate rows.

Only now, seeing his belongings filling the racks one by one, did it truly sink in. That her married life was beginning again.

I should make some coffee.

Just as staring at his things was making her oddly restless, and Jaein had closed the bedroom door behind her—

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang through the apartment.

Is the film crew here already?

Heading for the kitchen, Jaein glanced over at the clock. It had just turned ten in the morning.

Something felt off, but before the thought could fully form, her face stiffened as she approached the wall pad. The figure visible on the screen made her finger hesitate over the unlock button.

Then came the sound of fists hammering on the front door.

Bang bang bang!

The pounding was violent enough to crack the door, and Jaein turned toward the entrance.

"Seo Jaein! I know you're in there!"

Bang bang bang!

"You know who I am! Open up already—"

Before the demand to open the door could even finish, Jaein flung it wide open. Her eyes met those of the woman standing on the other side.

Woo Ara.

Chairman Woo Byungho's youngest daughter, born long after he'd passed his eightieth year—and Taeha's aunt.

"You were home the whole time, so why'd you take so damn long?"

Glaring with narrowed eyes, Ara tried to push her way inside uninvited. Or she would have—Jaein shut the door in her face first, blocking the way.

"Why'd you close it? I'm coming in."

Good grief. Self-centered as ever.

"What brings you here?"

"Let me in and I'll tell you."

"I'm expecting a guest. If you have something to say, you can say it here."

"Here? My legs hurt! Can't you see I'm wearing heels?"

Even as Ara screeched her objections, Jaein simply stood her ground in front of the door. Her utter composure left Ara's jaw hanging open.

"Seo Jaein, are you sick or something?"

"No. I slept well and I feel great."

Jaein said this pleasantly, glancing down at her wristwatch. The hands were creeping toward ten.

Hmm, the film crew really is about to show up.

That would be a problem.

"Huh? You said you're not getting divorced? I was planning to set up a match for our nephew once you two split!"

At the word match, Jaein lifted her head. Arms crossed as if she meant every word, Ara pressed on.

"But what's this about a variety show? You're really not divorcing?"

Jaein could only gape.

The show's teaser hadn't even dropped yet—how had this woman heard she was joining a variety program? And here was an aunt showing up at her nephew's wife's door to arrange a remarriage, whining about why the divorce hadn't happened. Even a trashy drama would get shredded by viewers for a plot twist this implausible.

But then, reality always did outdo fiction.

Woo Ara had always been the type to speak with zero filter.

No wonder she's the pampered darling of the Daeha family.

After losing his first wife, Chairman Byungho had fallen for Yoon Eunsuk, a caregiver tending him through the worst of his chronic illness. Ara was the child born of that union with the then-twenty-something Eunsuk—she was barely five years older than her own nephew, Taeha.

Because Eunsuk had entered the household as a second wife after bearing Ara, the pair had never even been granted a proper wedding. And so Ara's standing within the family naturally mirrored her mother's: tenuous.

A bit-part actress who drifted from role to role trailing scandals in her wake, the family's resident headache. But because Chairman Woo doted on his youngest daughter—his pearl beyond price—Ara had grown into exactly the spoiled, willful creature now standing at the door.

Whatever she does, he forgives her.

For reasons Jaein had never fathomed, Ara disliked her. The moment their eyes met, the torment would begin.

She never exchanged so much as a word with Junhee, her sister-in-law, yet when it came to Jaein, the two of them would turn thick as thieves.

Unpleasant old memories surfaced, and a shadow fell across Jaein's face.

I need to wrap this up, fast.

She'd finally agreed to appear on Sesame Couple—she couldn't exactly advertise her divorce in front of her own colleagues.

"When did I ever say I wasn't getting one? Aunt, I want a divorce."

"Wh-what?"

Ara's eyes went wide with alarm.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Jaein stared straight at her, meeting the woman's skepticism head-on. Under that unwavering gaze, Ara blinked rapidly, confusion blooming across her face.

"But Taeha won't hear of it. As you know, Aunt, compared to the Daeha family, I'm hopelessly lacking. Whoever you picked for my remarriage would be a perfectly matched daughter-in-law."

"R-right? Unlike you, they come from a rather fine family."

"Wow, Mother-in-law will be thrilled!"

"……"

"But what can I do? Taeha says he'd sooner die than divorce me."

As Jaein trailed off with a sunny smile, a strange tangle of emotions crossed Ara's face. Confronted with a version of Jaein she'd never seen before, she looked genuinely bewildered.

"So would you talk some sense into him for me, Aunt?"

Not that she actually believed Ara could pull it off—the sunbae I know would never listen to his aunt anyway.

"Me? You—you mean it, about wanting the divorce? You're not lying?"

"Would I lie to you, Aunt? Well then, I'll see you out. My guest will be here any minute."

"Okay? Okay. I'll do it."

Nudged along by Jaein, Ara turned as if swept up in the current, then pressed the elevator button like a woman in a trance.

"But what the heck. Since when did that girl talk so well?"

She used to be a total honey-glazed mute, Ara muttered to herself—then, as if struck by some idea, raised her phone to her ear.

"Sister-in-law, did you hear? I just got the most delicious piece of news."

Her voice faded as she vanished into the elevator.

Only once the woman was fully out of sight did Jaein turn and punch in the doorlock code.

It wasn't as if this behavior was new. Being tormented by them—she'd had five years of it, until she was sick to death of the taste. But she'd made up her mind now: no more tiptoeing around her in-laws. And the decision had lightened her, strangely enough.

Besides, she'd already declared to Taeha that she'd deal with his family exactly as she pleased.

I'm done holding my tongue.

Whatever inadequate daughter-in-law she'd supposedly been, how could people who hadn't even shown up to her father's funeral call themselves family?

At first, just the thought of her in-laws had made her heart pound and her head swim. But having steeled herself, she found there was strangely little left to fear.

No—it felt liberating.

For the first time since marrying her sunbae.

"Phew. Maybe that's why they say home is best, huh? That entrance hall is a work of art, don't you think?"

"When I walked in I thought we'd stepped into a hotel. Hahaha."

The film crew cracked their jokes while sneaking furtive glances toward Taeha.

He stood alone in front of the elevator. Even with his back turned, he could feel their eyes on him, and he swallowed down the wry smile that kept threatening to escape.

Hall was a generous word for it—it was little more than a doorway connecting down to the underground parking garage.

Soon the arrival chime rang out.

"After you."

"My, the Vice Chairman himself pressing the elevator button. You really shouldn't have—that's our job."

Taeha had just turned back to the crew, finger on the up button, when—

"Oh my, if it isn't our nephew!"

At the saccharine voice ringing in his ear, the corners of Taeha's eyes narrowed to fine slits.

Click clack. Click clack.

The sharp staccato of stiletto heels rang across the concrete as the woman approached.

"What brings you to be home at this hour, of all things?"

He didn't need to look—the face painted itself in his mind unbidden, and his mouth flattened into a line.

Woo Ara.

The woman who, on the family register at least, was his youngest aunt.

Never mind that the age gap between them was a mere five years.

Taeha exchanged a brief look with the others already inside the elevator: the camera director, the audio director, the PD, the assistant producer. He couldn't very well embarrass himself in front of his wife's colleagues.

He brushed right past Ara and had just stepped into the elevator when—

"Wow, he's ignoring me again."

Ara's irritated voice rang out behind him. She twisted her face into an exaggerated scowl and brought her phone up to her ear.

Her face, aimed squarely at Taeha, was full of malice.

"Sister-in-law, so anyway, right now your son is doing a couples' variety show—"

She never got to finish.

Taeha released the elevator door and walked out.