The Morning After
What was she trying to do, giving off such a lewd scent?
“Did it hurt a lot?”
Do-heon lifted Hye-won from where she sat on the sheets left in disarray by their successive lovemaking. Her small, slender body slipped neatly into his arms.
“Ah—n-no.”
Suddenly cradled against his chest, Hye-won’s eyes went round with bewilderment. The thin blanket she had drawn up to her neck slid down, baring her completely, and her face flushed deep red with open embarrassment.
“I’m going to wash you.”
Holding her as her thin arms wound around his neck, Do-heon carried her toward the bathroom.
“Ah… T-Teacher. I can wash myself.”
Being held naked like this was already mortifying enough; the added thought of him bathing her made Hye-won feel she might die of shame.
“It’s what a husband does—washes his wife.”
Do-heon lied without so much as a change of expression. He wanted to ease the tension still locking her body with gentle warmth.
“Still… that’s a little…”
Unable even to meet his eyes, Hye-won turned her face away and asked to be set down, yet Do-heon never broke his stride.
The red stains remaining on the white sheets. The mottled kiss marks left where he had crushed her soft skin. Thinking of the pain his twenty-year-old young bride had endured through the night made him find her both admirable and pitiful.
Even the moment he learned he was her first man, even while watching her suffer because it was too much for her, he had been utterly unable to restrain his lust.
He felt no regret. It had been so good that guilt never touched him. She was his wife now.
The girl who had said she would learn anything if he taught her, that she would do anything if only he let her live as his wife—already looked exhausted after nothing more than their first night.
Do-heon carefully lowered her frail form into the bathtub where he had dissolved bath salts. Once the bubbles veiled her body, the tension seemed to leave her at last; Hye-won quietly lowered her gaze and let out a soft breath.
“I’ll wash and come out.”
It was a clear request for him to leave, yet Do-heon remained motionless, his eyes fixed steadily on her.
Hair twisted up in a neat round bun, the clean line of her neck beneath it. Jewel-like droplets of water clinging to her long lashes. Plump cheeks that still held a trace of baby fat, translucent skin soft with fine down.
Looking at her, desire stirred in him again. Crazy bastard.
Even after holding her like that, knowing he must not go further, all that remained before his shattered reason was raw instinct.
How much more did he mean to torment his young wife?
Do-heon once more raked languid eyes over the body he had coveted all night. Thick heat began to rise from below his belly almost at once.
“Teacher.”
Just as Hye-won, unable to bear his blatantly deepening gaze, lifted her trembling eyes—
Do-heon suddenly tilted his head and claimed her lips as if devouring them.
“Mmnh. Teacher.”
Hot breath pushed between her soft lips.
“You should call me honey now. We’re doing this sort of thing, after all.”
The seductive voice that slipped into her ear was only a prelude. His rough breaths began to assault her without mercy.
“Who the hell do you think you are, crawling in here!”
She had just finished her part-time job and was stepping up into the living room when the roar hit her. A brass spoon flew straight at Hye-won’s face. It struck her forehead and clattered across the wooden floor with a sharp metallic ring.
Seon-sim, who had been carrying out scorched-rice water, and Hye-ra, who had been drinking soup straight from the bowl, both froze and turned.
“Who do you think you are to reject Managing Director Kim’s proposal? Do you even have a brain in that head!”
Blood was already running down Hye-won’s forehead, yet Jin-sang could not contain his rage and kept bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“Unnie living without a thought in her head isn’t anything new, is it? Honestly, Dad.”
As if asking what was so surprising about something everyone already knew, Hye-ra sneered and drained the rest of her soup.
“Oh my, it’ll leave a scar—what do we do?”
Seon-sim, who had been standing dazed, snatched up a tissue first.
The handle of the spoon had left a clear, torn mark, yet Hye-won’s face remained expressionless.
“What makes you so special that you put on airs like some high-and-mighty princess? Do you know how hard I worked to arrange that marriage? Who was that marriage for, and you just go and wreck it on your own?”
Hye-won’s calm only drove Jin-sang’s fury higher; his fists trembled.
“I told you clearly I had no intention of marrying.”
She pushed away Seon-sim’s hand that tried to wipe the blood and calmly brushed away the drops sliding past her eye.
“Is this because of that bar girl? Managing Director Kim just left. When a man is out doing big business, there might be women at drinking parties—you call that a misunderstanding? Huh! What kind of big deal is that to pick a fight over?”
Jin-sang shouted as if he were about to burst from frustration.
A few days earlier Hye-won had gone to see Jae-mun to ask him to forget the talk of marriage. She had found him half-undressed and tangled with a woman, and had turned around in shock. This seemed to be about that.
“I never misunderstood anything. It’s none of my business what that man does.”
“You damn bitch! Shut that mouth of yours! Not one word of apology. No wonder you ate your own brother alive. Aigoo, vicious little bitch, aigoo, you unlucky girl.”
Mo-wol set her spoon down with open irritation, her temper thoroughly soured.
Baek Mo-wol. Jin-sang’s own mother and Hye-won’s grandmother. White-haired, not a single strand out of place, a hairpin fixed firmly in place, she carried a force that belied her eighty-five years.
“Managing Director Kim turned down every good match and nearly cut ties with the chairman just so he could marry you. You know that and still act like this? He spoils you rotten so your guts have swollen up, is that it? Call Managing Director Kim right now! Beg him and say you’re sorry!”
Jin-sang flung his phone toward where Hye-won stood. It nearly slid under the old table, but Hye-ra snatched it up and set it precisely in front of Hye-won.
Jin-sang was nearly sick with anxiety. His hands even shook with the fear that Managing Director Kim Jae-mun’s mood would sour and he would call the whole marriage off.
“Do you know what Managing Director Kim has done for us all this time? After our Jun-seo left this world, who filled that empty place! Managing Director Kim is the same as my own son. My own son!”
Jin-sang’s raw emotion burst out sharp and jagged.
“I know I’m grateful.”
Hye-won was not unaware of the help she had received from Jae-mun. After her older brother Jun-seo died, Jae-mun had come whenever he could, comforting Jin-sang and asking to be thought of as a son.
“You know and still make a mess like this?”
“So how am I supposed to marry him?”
“What’s stopping you? Managing Director Kim wants you. Managing Director Kim says he wants to marry you.”
Jin-sang’s eyes looked half-mad as he pushed blindly forward. He seemed ready to offer up anything Jae-mun desired—even if that thing was his own child.
“Marriage is a different matter, Father. This is my life, and I should be the one to decide it. Why do you decide everything as you please? And I’m only twenty. I’m saving money so I can go back to school next year.”
“Why go looking for hardship? Just get married! Managing Director Kim promised he’d send you to school!”
“I don’t want to! I said I don’t want to! Why do you keep forcing me when I say no? Did he get something on you? Or did you borrow money again without telling me—”
Crack.
Before she could finish, Jin-sang’s palm slammed across her cheek.
“You little bitch!”
He glared at Hye-won as if he meant to kill her. His pride had been pricked.
“What is wrong with you!”
Seon-sim shoved Jin-sang away as she stared at Hye-won’s cheek, already swelling red. It felt as if real disaster was about to break out.
“You fucking bitch who deserves to die! Running that loose mouth of yours!”
This time Mo-wol roared and took over.
“I found you a husband better than your fate ever deserved—you ought to be bowing at your father’s feet, and what is all this nonsense? This is why you never send girls to school. They lose all sense of their place and start putting on airs.”
A tremor ran through the deep wrinkles at the corners of Mo-wol’s eyes.
“No matter what you say, I’m not marrying him. I can’t marry someone I don’t even care for just to repay a favor.”
Even as murderous light spread through Jin-sang’s eyes, Hye-won’s voice stayed firm.
“And this bitch still can’t understand plain talk!”
Veins bulging at his temples, Jin-sang grabbed an empty soju bottle. Seon-sim threw both arms wide and stood in front of Hye-won as if to shield her.
“Have you lost your mind? Put that down right now. If you’re going to throw it, throw it at me. Kill me instead!”
When Seon-sim screamed, Jin-sang’s hand shook so hard he could not throw it.
“You think men like Managing Director Kim grow on trees? Only someone like Managing Director Kim treats you like a real woman. Only someone like Managing Director Kim looks at trash like us as if we’re human! Aaargh!”
In the end, unable to master his rage, Jin-sang hurled the bottle at the wall. An ear-splitting crash filled the living room as the glass shattered into pieces.
“Dad! What are you doing right now! It hit me!”
Hye-ra, who had been watching the whole scene with the fascinated air of a neighbor watching a fire, yelped and brushed off her school uniform.
“If this marriage falls through, you’ll die by my hand—remember that!”
Still glaring at Hye-won as if he meant to kill her, Jin-sang stormed into his room, breathing hard.