Chapter 5
Yuna's POV
Since I was a child, I was praised for everything. My face, my manners, my grades. I learned early that expectations followed me everywhere.
Being born into the founding family of Nara Group wasn't something I chose. From the day I could walk, my future was already decided for me. I was getting tutored before I even realized what I needed to learn. I learned to speak three languages before I lost my first tooth. I didn't get to play outside like other children. While they spent their days at parks, I was attending meetings, piano lessons, etiquette classes, and business workshops.
By the time I turned fourteen, I was already making reports for board members. At seventeen, I sat in financial meetings. Before I turned twenty-three, I had completed two degrees. When my father stepped down early due to illness, I took over the main group. I was twenty-five back then.
People called me the Queen of Gangnam. A genius. A ruthless businesswoman.
But they didn't know me.
No one ever asked what I wanted. What I liked. If I was tired. Or lonely.
Because people like me weren't supposed to feel anything.
We weren't allowed to.
Then one night, everything changed.
The rain was falling hard that day. I had just left a meeting, driving myself for once. My mind was tired. I wasn't paying enough attention. The car skidded and struck the curb. Not too bad, but smoke rose from the hood. My ankle twisted when I stepped out.
Then he appeared.
He was holding an umbrella that barely covered him from the rain.
Younger than me. Good-looking, in a gentle, unassuming way. He was noticeably shorter than me, though that didn't seem to bother him. Most men either avoided looking me in the eye or tried to act overconfident. But not him. He didn't even glance at my suit or the black sedan behind me.
He just stepped forward without hesitation.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I told him I might've twisted my ankle. He didn't panic. He crouched down without a second thought and gently examined it, his fingers light but careful. Then he looked up. "You shouldn't walk on this."
And before I could protest, he turned around and offered his back.
"Hold the umbrella. I'll carry you to the bus stop over there. It's not far."
I hesitated. No man had ever offered to carry me, not even when I was younger. This was something entirely new.
Something inside me jolted.
Still stunned, I adjusted the umbrella in my hand and slowly climbed onto his back. Because of our height difference, I worried I might be too heavy. I noticed him struggling a little, but he tried his best to carry me. I remember thinking how warm his back felt. Though he struggled, he moved cautiously, making sure not to hurt my ankle.
My heart was racing.
I prayed he wouldn't notice how red my face had become. It was embarrassing. I wasn't the kind of woman who got flustered. But somehow… I couldn't stop the heat in my cheeks.
His back felt strangely comforting.
We reached the bus stop in minutes. He set me down gently on the bench and sat beside me. I called my assistant. Ten minutes later, they arrived. My assistant, Harin and few other bodyguards rushed toward me with umbrellas.
Before I left, I turned to him.
"What's your name?"
He blinked. "Haemin. Kim Haemin."
I nodded. "I'll remember that."
That should've been the end of it.
But it wasn't.
I couldn't stop thinking about him afterward. It was strange, and honestly, frustrating. I had more important things to focus on. But my mind kept drifting back to him.
So, I decided to find him.
It wasn't difficult. My assistant gave me everything I needed. His background, where he lived and what he studied. I found out he was an orphan who had grown up with his aunt's family before moving to Seoul for university.
He was smart, quiet, didn't have many friends, and apparently ranked among the top ten best-looking guys on campus. I smiled a little, remembering how he looked that night. I didn't doubt it for a second. And he wasn't seeing anyone. I felt relieved reading that.
I wanted to meet him again. So I asked Harin to deliver a letter to his university. She handled it flawlessly.
The first time we met, he was nervous but polite. I couldn't stop looking at his face actually. The second time we met, I told him about myself. I wasn't used to talked about it, but with him… it felt easier.
After that second meeting, I can't sleep at night. The way he looks, his manner and his smile, I keep thinking about him, it drive me insane. By the third meeting, I had already made my decision.
I wanted to marry him.
I knew it sounded crazy. But I don't liked wasting time. It wasn't just because he was kind or attractive, I've met others who were even better. But he's the only one who ever made my heart flutter like that.
And since he's not in relationship right now, so why not right?
I didn't expect him to say yes.
But he did.
I told him from the beginning that our marriage had to stay a secret, at least for now. If the public ever found out that I, Seo Yuna, the chairwomen of one of Korea's most prominent conglomerates, had secretly married a nineteen-year-old university student… the backlash would be overwhelming. The media would lose its mind and rumors would explode.
Public perception mattered. Shareholders, clients, and political partners, they all watched my every move. And frankly, I didn't have the patience to explain our relationship to the media, to justify something that felt so personal to me.
But I also told him that I wouldn't mind if one day our marriage became known. I wouldn't hide him forever. Just for now. As long as the timing allowed, I wanted to keep what we had private, safe from the world's judgment.
And he understood.
He nodded quietly, without any bitterness in his voice. He didn't make me feel guilty and he didn't ask for more either.
That's when I told myself, I'd protect him no matter what. I'd take care of him in every way I could.
And in that moment, I believed it, truly believed that loving him and marrying him would be enough.
But love isn't as simple as signing a document. It's not just a promise. And no matter how much you try to control it, it changes you.
After we got married, everything felt like a dream at first. Smooth, quiet and simple.
I asked him if we should hire a maid to help around the house, since I was often at the office and didn't want him to feel overwhelmed. But he shook his head and told me he liked doing those things. He had done it all before when he lived with his aunt, and he wanted to keep doing it.
I tried to persuade him again and told him he didn't need to push himself. But his answer stayed the same.
So I let it be.
He took care of our home without a single complaint. Every day when I returned from work, I'd see him waiting with a smile. He'd welcome me like I was the best part of his day. And even after hours of classes or studying, he always found time to prepare dinner or tidy up the living room.
When he had exams coming up, I'd help him study. He was smart, but sometimes he struggled to organize things. I would sit next to him and walk him through the concepts one by one. Economics, accounting, basic models. This was my expertise, after all.
He always looked so amazed when I explained things.
"Your brain's on another level," he once said, scratching the back of his neck. "Sometimes I feel like I'm married to a genius."
I tried not to smile too much when he said things like that.
It was strange. I was used to hearing compliments my whole life. But coming from him, it always made my heart flutter in a different way.
Day by day, my love for him grew deeper. Stronger and… dangerous.
It scared me.
Because every time he looked at me with that soft gaze, every time he reached for my hand, or said my name with such natural affection, I felt like I was falling harder. And the more I loved him, the more I feared losing him.
I had never needed anyone before.
Not emotionally and romantically.
But with him, it was different.
When you love someone too deeply, it stops feeling like love and starts feeling like desperation.
My company was expanding at the same time.
Deals piled up. I had to travel more. I worked longer hours. Meetings stretched late into the night. I hated it, but I couldn't stop. I had responsibilities and people depending on me. I had less time to spend with him.
And in the silence of those busy days, I began to spiral.
I told myself it was just worry. But deep down, it wasn't just that. I wanted control. I needed to feel like he was still belongs to me, even when I wasn't home.
Without realising it, I was growing colder and stricter over time.
I started checking his phone more often. Expecting answers faster. I got irritated when he didn't pick up my calls right away, or when he made plans I didn't know about.
I told myself it was normal, that this is what love does to people. That I was just trying to protect what we had.
I knew I had crossed the line.
And yet… he never said anything.
No matter how cold I became, no matter how controlling I got, he remained patient with me.
Even when I hurt him… he stayed.
He looked at me like nothing had changed.
And that only made my guilt worse.
Because I knew I was hurting the person I loved the most.
But I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
Because the deeper I fell, the more I feared that if I didn't hold on tight enough, if I didn't keep control, I'd lose him.
And I wasn't ready for that.
That night. Tonight, it happened again.
He didn't answer my call.
Just once, I told myself. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he was busy. But that small part of me that I couldn't silence, the part poisoned by fear, kept whispering. What if he's with someone else? What if he's hiding something from me? What if I'm not enough anymore?
I came home early. I waited in the living room. I told myself I wouldn't overreact.
Then he walked through the door. Smiling. Carrying groceries. Acting like everything was fine.
That's when I finally snapped.
I slapped him so hard the bags fell to the floor. He looked stunned. Hurt. But he didn't fight back.
I accused him. Said horrible things. Accused him of meeting someone else. I said it without any proof, driven only by fear and panic.
And then, when he tried to explain. I didn't listen.
I pushed him against the wall. I shouted. I threatened.
I saw the look in his eyes.
Fear.
He was afraid of me.
_____
Sunlight flashed across my face, pulling me out of sleep.
I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light seeping through the curtains. My body felt heavy. The silence in the room was the first thing I noticed. The second, he wasn't beside me.
I reached across the bed, hand brushing over the cold sheet. Empty.
He was already gone. Off to class, as usual.
A sigh escaped from my lips.
"I'm doing it again," I murmured to myself, pressing my fingers to my temple.
Last night, just thinking about it made my stomach twist.
I remembered the way his eyes looked at me. Like he didn't know who I was anymore. The way he tried to pull away, and how I refused to let him.
I hurt him again.
I forced myself out of bed and walked to the kitchen, the marble floor cool under my feet. I wasn't sure what I expected. But still, seeing it made my chest tighten.
There was breakfast on the table, perfectly prepared and still warm.
Beside it, a note folded cleanly in half.
I reached for it with careful fingers and opened it slowly, already recognizing his handwriting.
["I didn't want to wake you. Breakfast is ready. Please eat before it gets cold. I'll see you after class. I love you <3"
– Your husband."]
I stared at the words longer than I should have.
I sank into the chair, the note still in my hand.
I pressed the note to my chest and closed my eyes.
"…I'm sorry," I whispered. Even if he couldn't hear it.
Even if I didn't have the strength yet to say it to his face.