Chapter 2
People say you can get used to anything.
The boring lectures, extra classes on the weekend, endless assignments — yeah, you get used to those.
But you never quite get used to being the husband of a woman like Seo Yuna.
Especially when you're nineteen, and she's twenty-nine, and half the country watches her every move like she built Korea with her own hands.
⸻
Some days I walk the campus and wonder if people know.
Not because I want attention. Trust me, I don't.
But because it feels strange to carry something this heavy alone, as if I'm pretending to live two different lives at once.
At university, my life looks the same as anyone else's. But when I return home, it feels like I'm stepping into an entirely different world.
Kim Haemin — second-year economics student. Married to the woman behind Nara Group. Most people would think I made it up. Maybe I would too, if I wasn't the one waking up next to her.
_____
Before all this, I was just… normal.
My days were simple and quiet. I went to class in the mornings, and at night, I usually ate instant noodles, studied, or scrolled through my phone until I fell asleep.
My parents? They were already gone. But I had an aunt in Busan who raised me as if I were her own.
I grew up not expecting much from life, and in return, life didn't ask much of me either.
Until her.
⸻
The Day I Met Her
It was raining hard the day we met.
I was walking home from class when I saw a black sedan spun out near the curb, smoke rising from its hood. No one else stopped to help, but I did.
The driver's door creaked open. She stepped out. Taller than me, soaked to the bone, blood trickling from the corner of her lip but she didn't look shaken. Just… annoyed.
"Are you all right?" I asked, stepping closer.
"I think I sprained my ankle."
"Mind if I take a look?" I crouched down, checking her foot. "Yeah, there's a bruise forming. Not too bad, but you shouldn't put weight on it."
I glanced around. Rain was still hammering the pavement. "Listen, if you don't mind… hold the umbrella and hop on my back. I might be shorter than you, but I can carry you to that bus stop over there. At least we'll get some cover."
"It's okay," she said. "My driver's already on the way."
"Nope. Don't be stubborn now." I turned my back to her. "Come on. Get on."
She stared at me for a second, like she wasn't used to being told what to do. Then, without a word, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and climbed onto my back.
I carried her through the rain to the shelter. The whole time, she didn't say much. She wasn't panicking either. She just stayed quiet, observing everything around her.
Ten minutes later, four black sedans pulled up in a tight convoy. Six men in black suits stepped out immediately, followed by a neatly dressed woman. She was attractive, but not nearly as striking as the woman who sitting beside me now. Probably her assistant, I assumed. She rushed over and helped her boss up.
That's when I realized, she wasn't just anyone.
Before she left, she turned to me and asked, "What's your name?"
"Haemin," I said politely, but a little caught off guard.
"I'll remember that," she replied.
And just like that, she was gone.
I didn't think much of it after. But two weeks later, that same assistant walked straight into my university lecture hall. She said my name in front of twenty classmates, handed me an envelope, bowed, and left like it was nothing.
The whole class was in an uproar.
The rest of the week, I couldn't go anywhere without someone asking:
"What did you do to catch someone like her?"
"Are you dating a conglomerate heiress or something?"
"Did you save her life or what?"
I didn't have any answers to their questions. At least, not yet.
_____
The Proposal
Inside the envelope was her business card. Heavy, matte black, with her name embossed in silver: Seo Yuna. Tucked behind it was a handwritten note.
["Thanks for helping the other day. Let's talk."]
That was it.
No return number. Nothing.
Three days later, I was standing outside a glass tower in Gangnam, checking if my shoes were clean and if I smelled like laundry soap.
Her secretary led me to a private lounge on the 36th floor. Yuna sat alone, elegantly composed, with her blonde hair tied back, her coat folded beside her, one legs crossed, and a cup of untouched tea in front of her.
"Thanks for coming," she said, without looking up.
"Thanks for inviting me," I replied, trying not to sound nervous.
She nodded once, then finally met my eyes. My cheeks heated up a little under her gaze. She just looked at me for a moment longer but her expression was curious, as if I were a variable she hadn't quite figured out yet.
"Do you always stop in the rain for strangers?"
"Only when they nearly crash into a streetlight."
A flicker of a smile touched her lips.
Our first meeting lasted only twenty minutes. During those twenty minutes, she asked simple things about me. She wanted to know about my major and why I chose it, about my aunt who lives in Busan, about my family and what they're like. Just basic things.
When it ended, I left thinking I had just gone through some strange interview I didn't fully understand.
Two days later, we met again, this time in her private office, which was spacious enough to make my apartment feel like a closet.
She talked a lot more that day, mostly about her work. I'm not entirely sure why she chose to tell me all that, but I didn't find it boring. In fact, I liked hearing her talk about it.
"I spend most of my days burying myself in work. It feels endless sometimes. My time isn't something I give easily."
"So… why are you spending on me?"
She looked at me for a long moment.
"Because you interest me. And I don't get interested easily."
My face heated up again. Was she always this bold? How could she say something like that with such a straight face?
"Did you say the same thing to other guys too?"
Her lips curved slightly. "You're the only man in the world I've ever had a conversation like this with."
Before I knew it, we ended up talking for two hours.
By our third meeting, I had stopped trying to guess her reasons. I simply came. She stood near the window when I entered her office, pen in hand, the light catching her in a way that made her seem even more beautiful than before. A folder of documents lay open on the table beside her.
"Let's stop wasting time," she said as she turned toward me.
"Okay…?"
She slid the folder toward me. Inside was a marriage application.
"Marry me."
Just like that.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I want to marry you. I've already looked into your background thoroughly. You're clean, discreet, and you're not after anything. Not that I couldn't deal with someone who was."
I didn't know whether to be offended or impressed.
"Is this some kind of social experiment?" I asked.
"No. I don't joke about this."
"You barely know me."
"I know enough. You helped me without hesitation. You didn't get nervous when you found out who I was. You carried me without asking for anything and you didn't follow up afterward either."
"That doesn't mean—"
She cut me off.
"I don't date, and I don't like to wasting time. When I want something, I take it. And right now, I want you."
That shut me up.
"Am I just some tool you can buy whenever you want?" I asked.
She took a step closer, arms folded.
"You're kind and not intimidated by me. You didn't try to impress me either. That's rare. And let me be honest."
She stepped even closer and cornered me against the wall, her finger gently lifting my chin.
"I fell for you the moment we met. Call it love at first sight if you want. You're not just good-looking, you caught my heart when you carried me on your back that day. You treated me like a normal person. Since that day, it's been so hard to sleep without thinking about you."
My face burned, but her expression didn't change.
"But I don't have anything special to offer you."
"I don't need anything from you. Just stay by my side and love me the way I love you."
After a long moment of thinking, I said yes.
To be honest, I don't know what I was thinking at that time. Maybe it was because I was lonely. Or maybe I had already fallen for her without even realizing it.
So I picked up the pen and signed.
She took the form from me with a smile and nod of satisfaction.
"We'll keep it private," she said. "If others find out, it doesn't matter. Just focus on your studies. I'll take care of your expenses after this."
"When are we getting married?" I asked.
"Two days from now," Yuna said like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"What? In two days?" I nearly fainted. "Don't you think that's a bit rushed?"
"Like I said, I don't like wasting time. What, are you changing your mind already? Any regrets?"
"No—no, nothing like that. Who wouldn't want to marry someone as beautiful as you? It's just… this still feels unreal to me."
*Kiss*
Out of nowhere, Yuna kissed my cheek.
"Does it feel real now?" she asked, and I noticed the faint blush coloring her ear before she walked back to her desk and sat down.
"I'll have someone pack your things and move you to my place after everything is completed."
"O-okay," I muttered, still a little stunned by the sudden kiss.
"See you in two days, my husband," she said with a soft smile.
Just like that—
I married Seo Yuna.
⸻
We got married quietly.
No ceremony. No flowers. No friends or family. Just a short visit to the office that issued our marriage certificate and a quiet ride back to her penthouse.
That night, she asked if I wanted to change universities.
"I can get you transferred and move your credits over," Yuna said casually. "Or I could arrange a private tutor if going back and forth feels like a waste of time."
I shook my head.
"It's fine. I like where I am now, and my friends are around too. I just want to keep something simple."
She didn't argue. She just nodded once, kissed the top of my head, and went back to reviewing reports on her tablet.
Monday morning came like usual. I stepped into the lecture hall, found my seat, and pulled out my notes.
Hyunjae, my only close friend here, dropped into the chair beside me, mid-yawn until his eyes caught something.
"Wait," he said, grabbing my hand. "Is this a ring?"
That's when I realized, the ring Yuna had given me was still on my finger. I had been so caught up in everything that had happened over the past few days that I completely forgot to take it off. Now that Hyunjae had seen it, I had no idea how to cover it up.
I didn't answer right away. Hesitating, I simply gave a small nod. Just like that, he was the first person to know that I was married. Luckily for me, Hyunjae wasn't the type to blab.
His eyes nearly popped out, then, way too loud. "You're married?! Since when?!"
"Few days ago."
"To who?!"
I nudged him hard under the table. "I can't tell you that. Keep your voice down, idiot."
Hyunjae stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "No way. Are girls falling for short guys these days?"
I just stared back at him, expressionless.
"Sorry, sorry, I was just joking," he laughed, still in disbelief. "Seriously, though. Married? You? At nineteen? This is wild."
Before I could answer, the professor walked in. Thankfully, no one else heard our conversation.
At home, life changed more quietly.
Early on, Yuna was still the same gentle, caring woman who cared deeply for me. No matter how busy her work was, she always found time for me. Those early days, I thought maybe… maybe we could make it work.
But her world was too big to pause for long.
She didn't get rich by accident. She came from conglomerate family, and her company was already a juggernaut. But as her company expended even further, something changed. Not in the business but in her.
She became… colder.
She began coming home later and later, tension etched into every line of her shoulders. If I asked how her day had been, she answered in single words: "Fine," "Complicated," "Handled." If I asked anything further, her gaze went flat. Sometimes she would walk past me without a word, head straight to her office, and keep the door closed until dawn.
Yet, no matter how late, it never failed. She would slip into our bedroom, pull back the covers, and have her way with me. There's no small talk and no asking for permission. I could barely read her expression in the dark, but I felt the desperation in her grip, the way she held me tightly, as if I might vanish the moment she let go.
Afterward she often turned away to stare at the ceiling until sleep dragged her under. And in the morning, she was gone before sunrise.
Over time, her questions sharpened.
"Where did you go after class?"
"Who were you with?"
"How long will you be out?"
If I hesitated, her tone would grow even colder. Once, when I came home ten minutes later than I had promised, she was waiting in the foyer, her eyes sharp and polished like glass.
"Do you enjoy making me worry?"
"Yuna, it was ten minute—"
*Slap*
The slap came so fast I didn't register it until the sting bloomed across my cheek. She watched me, breathing hard, then whispered, "Don't do it again," before walking away.
And that night, like every other, she still came to bed. Still took what she wanted. Still held me close, her breath heavy against my neck, as if nothing had happened.
The next morning, I tried to speak to her but she brushed my hand away. "I'm tired, Haemin. Don't test me today."
After that, she started leaving marks on me more easily. Never where anyone could see, just a hard grip on my wrist, or pushing me against the wall if she thought I was ignoring her calls. And always, there were the late-night visits. She would wake me, take what she wanted, then turn away, leaving me wide awake, wondering.
I still love her. I know the woman I carried through the rain is in there somewhere. But each night I wonder which version of Yuna will push open the door.
Either way, I wait.
Because no matter how cold her words or how sharp her hand became, I still remembered the woman she used to be. The one who was always gentle when we first met.
And a part of me still hopes she'll find her way back to that truth, before the distance becomes permanent, and the bruises are all we have left.
⸻
"We've arrived, sir."
The taxi stopped at the private basement entrance. I nodded, handed over the fare, and stepped out with two grocery bags in hand.
Parked a few steps away was a silver Aston Martin DB11. A gift from Yuna. She said I shouldn't have to take public transport anymore.
But I had never driven it.
I couldn't picture myself pulling into campus with a sports car like that.
I preferred the quiet kind of life.
My classes ended earlier than usual today. Instead of going straight home, I stopped by the supermarket near the station to buy some groceries. It had become part of my routine.
I liked cooking. Especially for her.
My phone had died just before I left the supermarket. I made a mental note to charge it as soon as I got in.
The elevator ride to the top floor was silent.
I keyed in the passcode and stepped inside.
The lights were off.
The hallway was cool and quiet, faintly smelling of air freshener and clean marble floors.
I stepped in slowly, shoes tapping softly on the entryway tile.
And there they were.
Her shoes.
Black pointed heels, neatly placed by the door.
Yuna was home.
Early. Unannounced.
My hands tightened slightly on the grocery bags.
She never came home at this hour. Not without a reason.