The Couple’s Time 1
The sky was the deep blue of dawn. A thin layer of frost had settled on the grass of the courtyard visible through the window.
It was still early, yet the sound of her husband’s footsteps echoed through the bedroom. Shin Jaye pulled her gaze away from the window, the frost on the lawn reminding her how cold this morning would be.
A moment later came the soft click of a door closing and opening. Watching the chilly pre-dawn landscape, she worried about her husband’s commute. She wanted to tell him to drive carefully, but as always, she swallowed the words. Three days earlier he had firmly declared he didn’t need an escort.
The couple in the public eye needed to look like they had stayed up late—fooling the world into believing she was the one who slept in. Jeong Seonwu’s decision had been logical; she had accepted it without question.
Thirty minutes after he left, a small patch of yellow light appeared on the frosted grass. Six o’clock. In the grand estate of Unamjae where she lived, every light in the house would be lit at this hour, marking the start of another day.
Rising from the bed, Shin Jaye washed her face, then changed into a loose skirt that reached her knees and a sweater in a soft shade of blue. She gathered her long hair neatly at the nape of her neck and headed for her mother-in-law’s room.
“Mother, I hope you slept well last night?”
With the boiler now installed, the old custom of assigning upper and lower bunks had vanished, yet Okhyeon still sat on a cushion placed at the very back of the inner chamber, facing her with a table and chair. All matters of the household were reported here.
“Yes. Come sit.”
Jaye approached carefully. The woman in her late seventies stared at her with eyes so sharp they seemed to burn.
“Was Seonwu’s condition good yesterday?”
The mother’s love for her only son ran so deep that every morning she summoned Jaye and asked after his health—not the ordinary kind, but whether anything had happened between husband and wife. Jaye knew exactly what the question meant and gave the answer her mother-in-law wanted.
“Yes, Chairman. We were… closer than usual yesterday.”
At twenty-three this would have been embarrassing, but two years of the same conversation had made it almost routine.
“We faced each other the whole time.”
When she had first asked, the simple blinks had been mortifying; this felt like a vast improvement.
“Good. From now on you must follow the shaman’s instructions even more carefully.”
Jaye and Seonwu’s intimacy was guided by the directives of Yonghwa, the blessed shaman.
“Oh, and she said that doing it too long isn’t good because the qi gets scattered. You must release any bad energy quickly.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Every time the two of them spent the night together, Okhyeon made sure they had followed the shaman’s method.
“If Seonwu is in high spirits and wants to go longer, you must finish quickly.”
“Yes. I always remember.”
“Good. Well done. See you at breakfast.”
Relieved that the morning report had gone smoothly, Jaye returned to the bedroom and loosened her tightly gathered hair. After she bound and released it, the top of her head always felt stretched.
She sat at the vanity, pressing firmly against her scalp, and looked at her reflection. The room contained two beds side by side. The one with the faint imprint of his body was hers; the other, neatly made with no sign of use, was Seonwu’s.
On nights when work kept him late, he sometimes returned before dawn without uttering a word. The only evidence of his presence was the faint scent that lingered on the sheets.
After nearly three years together, she and her husband remained almost strangers.
“I hope your commute was smooth.”
Jeong Seonwu, the only son of the late Chairman of Samjeong Group, had been heir to one of Korea’s top three conglomerates. He had stayed in the background until now, yet at thirty-one the general opinion was that he would soon take the reins. When he moved, the entire group would follow, and the nation itself would shake.
He was the man she called husband.
After breakfast and a walk in the Unamjae garden, the time was already past eight. In this high-rise estate of Seoul the morning sun poured down. The neighborhood had once been home to many senior executives, but now only their children remained. Samjeong Group alone still guarded the land.
The name Unamjae came from a towering rock that pierced the sky; people called the late chairman’s abode Unam and the estate Unamjae. From here the ordinary lives of Seoul citizens seemed spread out like a map beneath one’s feet.
“Excuse me, Miss. It’s getting much colder. I’ll take you all the way to the bus stop.”
“No need, Mr. Kim. I’ll walk as usual.”
The driver had offered his car, but Jaye refused and stepped out. A cold wind slipped under her coat. Late November, and just yesterday the temperature had still been around ten degrees. Now it had dropped sharply since dawn. She had simply slipped on a thin trench coat without checking the weather.
Even now she could turn back for thicker clothes, but the thought of her mother-in-law sitting in the living room reading the newspaper made her abandon the idea.
Seonwu’s mother and Jaye were separated by a generation larger than that of a grandmother and granddaughter.
Jaye knew it was her age that had made the difference, yet it was not the only reason. After the late Chairman Jeong Geuncheol passed away, Okhyeon had become the true power behind Samjeong Group, sitting in this very room to decide every matter—across the five holding companies and sixty-odd subsidiaries. Everything was in her hands.
“A young wife shouldn’t speak of the weather…”
Arms crossed tightly over her chest, Jaye shrank like a frightened rabbit and began walking down the hill.
“Why does the bus stop seem so far today…”
Just as she quickened her steps, a luxury sedan slowed beside her and stopped.
Beep-beep. Short, sharp horn. Jaye froze.
The black sedan remained completely still.
A moment later the rear window lowered, and her husband appeared.
Jaye hadn’t seen the company car climbing back up the hill and now looked at him in surprise.
“Are you going to school?”
“Yes.”
“Get in.”
“No, thank you. I’m already at the bus stop.”
Today he wore a dark suit and a tie deeper in shade than the fabric. The cool blue color made his slightly upturned eyes look even colder.
“The road ahead is the same direction.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Get in.”
Jaye almost refused again, then noticed the slight furrow between his brows and quickly changed her mind.
“Yes.”
Reaching for the door handle, she found it locked. Instead the passenger window lowered and his secretary’s face appeared.
“The passenger seat is for me, Madam.”
“Ah—yes.”
Jaye hurriedly opened the rear door. Before she could close it, the secretary got out and closed the rear door for her.
She had wanted to avoid sitting next to him, but she ended up beside him anyway. The car began to glide down the hill.
If she had taken the bus she would have had to wait at every stop ten times over, yet the company sedan cut through the city like a shadow.
Once or twice Seonwu turned a page of documents, but inside the car the silence was absolute.
The awkward quiet made Jaye chew at her fingertips. That was exactly why she had refused to sit beside him.
“Did you study well at university?”
The question came as they passed the main gate of the engineering building.
“Yes—thanks to you.”
“When did I ever help with your studies?”
A smile lurked at the end of his sentence.
Jaye, who had spent almost no time with him except on those nights, stared at him with a bewildered expression.
“I mean… you helped me with my entrance exams.”
At those dull words Seonwu nodded once and looked away. Jaye felt the knot in her chest finally loosen.
In the meantime the black sedan passed the university and headed toward the engineering building. Jaye had missed the chance to ask him to drop her at the gate and now watched helplessly as the car disappeared.
She had no intention of riding with him all the way to the front of the building; she didn’t want the people’s eyes fixed on her husband.
“Please let me out here.”
“Yes, Madam. Just a moment. I’ll park in the emergency lane.”
The car stopped in front of the engineering building. Jaye reached for the door handle, but it remained locked.
“Madam, allow me to open the door.”
With a metallic click the secretary, seated in the front, got out and opened the door.
Jaye stepped out, awkwardly greeting the secretary at the rear and walked quickly toward the campus.
“Have a good day, Madam.”
“Yes, you too, Director Yoon.”
She had turned halfway toward her destination when a short voice came from behind.
“Jaye.”
“Wait. Let me see you for a moment.”
Seonwu had stopped her.
He looked at the director, then gestured toward the trunk.
“Director Yoon.”
“Yes, Sir. About the scarf?”
Because meetings were frequent, Seonwu kept a selection of new smartphones and luxury scarves in the car—Samjeong Electronics’ latest model and Samjeong Modu’s cashmere wraps. It was the tradition of his father’s time: after a business lunch or meeting, a gift bearing the Samjeong name was given.
Taking the box from the director, Seonwu lifted out the thick scarf and approached Jaye.
“It’s cold.”
He wrapped the scarf twice around her neck, tucked one end inside, and tied it neatly.
“Ah…”
Taken completely by surprise, Jaye could not move.
“You must dress warmly.”
After nearly three years of marriage they were not close enough for him to notice her outfit. She stood so close to him that her cheeks trembled.
While she wondered what had made him act so unlike himself, he spoke again.
“Oh, and Jaye.”
“?”
“I came to school, then stopped by home.”
“Yes.”
“My mother told me you’re doing well.”
Jaye widened her eyes in confusion.
“She said you’re doing well. In two months it will all be over—treat it as a time of recovery and pull yourself together.”
“…”
“Still doing that… thing about the bed? It seems you’re still doing it.”