The Reality of a Broken Marriage
“What do you mean, you’ll just disappear?”
He looked at her, feeling nothing but a hollow sense of pity. When a relationship ends, and the person who gave everything—without a single regret—reaches this point, there’s no lingering attachment left. He was the same. Throughout their dating life and their marriage, he had given her his all, leaving no room for complaint. He honestly believed he had treated her so well that even those around them thought he was too good for her. That was why he felt no lingering regrets.
Even now, watching her bring up old letters, reminiscing about happy times, and apologizing as if she’d just realized how inadequate she had been, he felt absolutely nothing. Just as he was wondering what on earth he was supposed to say, she suddenly declared she would disappear.
“Because I have no reason to stay alive anymore.”
It sounded like a roundabout way of saying she was going to kill herself. Knowing that, he was at a loss for words. What are you supposed to say when your ex-wife bursts into your home after a divorce and says, “I’m just going to go and die!”?
If he had even a shred of affection left, he would have told her not to do it, to find another way to move past the past. Or perhaps suggested they reconcile. But instead, he asked,
“You’re not planning on doing it here, are you?”
“...Huh? Ah, well, that is...”
“If you’re going to die, do it somewhere I can’t see. ...It’s a huge hassle if it ends up on the news.”
When you suffer a deep emotional wound, it actually feels as though your heart has been gouged out. That was a fact he had learned while living with her. It seemed she was experiencing this for the first time. The way she pressed her pale, small hand against her solar plexus, mouth slightly agape as she stared at him—it was likely because she was so bewildered by this unfamiliar emotion.
“...So, like, I... I’m really... going to die...”
“I get it. I already said I heard you.”
“No, I mean it. I’m going to die. Now... you won’t be able to see me anymore.”
“I know.”
He knew. Why did she keep repeating it?
“B-but, are you really... really okay with that?”
Why wouldn’t I be? he thought, though he said it to her in a low, flat tone.
“I, well, I... I...”
“Yeah.”
“It’s just, uh... even though I’m dying... even though you can’t talk to me anymore... you can’t even meet me... are you really, okay with...”
He curled his lips and let out a deep sigh. Why did she have to be so frustrating?
“...Is there any reason for us to be talking? And I highly doubt we’ll be meeting each other ever again.”
“Ah....”
She seemed unable to properly accept the fact that they were divorced. She was the one who had asked for it, yet she was the one who couldn’t accept the reality. She had probably said she was going to die just to see him show some emotional distress.
But he said,
“Honestly, you said you were sorry to me.”
“That’s right...”
“And you know why you’re sorry, too.”
“...Yeah, well... I nagged you a lot, and every day...”
“And?”
“...I also said... I didn’t want to have sex...”
“After the divorce, I realized that didn’t really matter much.”
Stunned by that statement, she stared at him blankly, as if she had just heard something impossible. She stuttered, asking back as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“No, I mean, I’m not at a... addiction level, right? I mean, you seemed to like it back then, and I liked it too. And it’s something married couples do. So we did...”
“You said... you’d die if you didn’t do it with me...”
“That was just something I said. Maybe a bit of regret if we didn’t? But while there are people who die because they can’t eat, there’s no one who dies because they can’t have sex.”
Overwhelmed by the shock, she stared blankly at the shoe cabinet by the entrance, completely dazed. She had been so sure—so absolutely sure—that he had told her he would die if he couldn’t have her because he was so pent up. She had meant to use that against him. Wait, aren’t men supposed to need to release it whenever they get pent up? she thought.
‘In the novels I read, the women would rush over to help them get it out...’
This is what happens when you have a warped view of sexuality.
“Logically speaking, if a person died from not doing that, half the men in the world would be dead by now.”
“...”
“Look at married couples. They say 70% are sexless. They don’t do it. They don’t see each other as sexual beings. But I didn’t want that. I wanted us to stay a happy, lover-like couple. I... well, in my own way, that was my effort, though I don’t know if you’d believe me. Anyway, it’s a meaningless conversation now.”
While listening to that, she couldn’t bring herself to argue, ‘Don’t men have a limit to how much they can take care of it themselves if they don’t have a woman?’ so she just kept listening.
“And... look, Noona,” she looked up at him. “Your performance in bed is honestly terrible. It’s not even my type.”
If someone were to see her collapse after hearing that and scold him, asking why he would say such a thing to a fragile woman whose mental state was already shattered, he would simply ask: If she’s going to die, shouldn’t I be honest since it’s the last time? You can’t exactly say, ‘I was so happy having sex with you, let’s do it again in the next life,’ can you?
She seemed to have lost her mind, collapsing onto the dirty floor of the entryway with a loud thud. Seeing her fainted, he had no choice but to pick her up and lay her down in the guest room right next to the door.
“Did she have pride in herself... or confidence?”
No way, he muttered to himself as she lay there. If she did, it was definitely a delusion.
“It’s not my type.”
Usually, when they were intimate, she would try to torment him even while lying still. She would try to twist her body, or force him to answer questions like, “Do you like this?” as if demanding a response. Where did she learn such strange things? She would never do the positions he liked, like from behind, and instead would try other things. She’d suddenly tell him to lie down, trying to lift his waist to do something, only to be stopped by him. And as for oral, she only did it in the beginning, claiming it felt like submission, and then never did it again. Yet, she was a massive hypocrite who loved it when her own woman did it for her.
But he wanted something else. He liked that kind of thing. He liked it when she would resist just enough to make it feel like he was raping her, before eventually giving in to the pleasure. He had asked her to resist him once, but she had resisted with such genuine intensity that he had given up and just gone to sleep without finishing. He also liked receiving from behind and oral. He had enjoyed deep-throating quite a bit, but because he had done it once, she had yelled at him to cook for himself for a whole week, making him feel uncomfortable even coming home.
Not only that. She would suppress her beautiful moans, claiming it was embarrassing. It felt like doing it with a stone statue. She would make an expression like she was dying of pleasure when she reached the climax, but even that she tried to suppress. And that was the whole point of watching.
Think about it. You’re having sex with your wife with a fairly large, 22cm male endowment, and your wife is just lying there with a blank, expressionless face, staring you down, while she’s clenching and releasing, trembling, and even bouncing several times—would that be enjoyable?
“...”
He had tried to compromise through conversation to some extent. He had persuaded her enough that moaning was a natural phenomenon and she didn’t need to worry about it, but her excuses were endless. ‘It’s a nuisance if the neighbors hear.’ They lived in a 5-billion-won apartment; there was no way it wasn’t soundproofed. ‘I feel like I’d lose my attraction if I made those sounds.’ The person involved says it’s fine! ‘I just don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m crazy with lust.’ Treating most women in the world as crazy people... Naturally, he couldn’t refute that on the spot. If he did, another excuse would just pop out. And then he would be the only one who ended up exhausted.
Around that time, she slowly opened her eyes, looked around, and smiled slightly. What was there to smile about?
“Excuse me, I should be going home now...”
“H-honey!”
Suddenly, she hugged him tightly, kissing his cheeks and forehead several times, looking at him with affectionate eyes. Then, he said with a cold expression,
“What are you doing?”
“Why are you like this, my dar...”
“We’re divorced. Do you have some kind of illness?”
He quickly stood up, moved a bit away from the bed, and looked at her. She had a confused expression for a moment, then let out a sigh of “Ah,” and dropped her head.
She had thought it was a dream. She thought she was in this house because it was a dream, and that was why he was by her side. If it were reality, she wouldn’t have been able to set foot in here. That was her conclusion: This must be a dream. But as soon as she realized she had fainted and that was why she was lying here, the bright smile she had worn vanished completely.
“If you’re feeling better, get out.”
“Look, Suhyun. Uh... Mr. Suhyun,”
“What.”
“I, I want to sleep here... I, I, I suddenly don’t... feel well.”
“Why are you being so pathetic?” he said, and she pouted her lips slightly.
“No, it’s just... it’s a hassle, so just go.”
“Am I... a hassle?”
“...Yeah. You’re a hassle. Honestly, even when we lived together, you were a handful. You’d say you were the older one, but there were so many things I had to take care of for you. I was the one earning the money, but you’d keep forgetting documents and asking me to bring them to you.”
“No, that’s... back then, usually you, or rather, honey, or rather... you were on vacation, so at home...”
“Do you really think I actually rested when I was on vacation?”
Of course, she knew. For someone in his position, a vacation was never a vacation. If he woke up at 9 AM, went to his desk, and turned on his computer, he could access the company intranet even from home. Then he would check internal documents, print out things he needed to worry about, and sit on the balcony to read them. Not only that. Even if I’m on vacation, others don’t know I’m on vacation. Among them are people higher up than me. He had to listen to his father, the Chairman, who had gone down to a provincial factory, suddenly call at 6 AM and fly into a rage because an instruction hadn’t been carried out yet. Even if there was too much work, if he missed one thing, he’d immediately get calls from the Vice Chairman, the President, or the Vice President. It’s not like the Chairman’s son would have that much work, but—
“This is my son, and from now on, he will be the Head of the Support Division.”
“...”
“And he will probably become the Chairman, so don’t go easy on him just because he’s my son. Make him work 24 hours a day, and if he misses something, scold him severely.”
“But how could we possibly...”
“Are you all just going to watch a fool become the Chairman?”
For that reason, he couldn’t even dream of resting at home. He spoke, thinking she would know that to some extent, and she bowed her head without saying a word, as if she understood. He had let it slide until now because she was his wife, but now, there was no mercy.
“You keep thinking you can win me over with words, but you can’t live like a fool when you’re in business.”
“...”
“Until now, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to be a hassle or hurt your feelings, but why do you always think you’re right? Don’t try to package everything as if you acted based on rational thought. There’s a selfish heart inside all of that. Using me, and not even thinking that it would be a problem. Do you think that wouldn’t be visible? Really?”