Chapter 8
Chapter 8
When I first told my parents that I was going to marry Yang Mi-jung, they weren’t exactly thrilled.
Being an actor is a career that draws a lot of attention and gossip, and they were probably worried I’d get hurt.
But once they realized my resolve was firm, it was my father who more often took my side than my mother.
“Love without regret. Don’t leave a trace of attachment. Give freely. Then someday, the other person will open their heart to you too.”
That was the advice my father gave me while smoking a cigarette before the wedding.
Perhaps he already knew that I’d bear the heartache alone.
‘But Dad… I gave freely, and they just saw me as a pushover.’
Anyway, I ended things without leaving even a trace of regret, so I guess I followed half of his advice.
I quickly dodged my father’s gaze and replied.
“My mother-in-law went abroad. For a shoot.”
“….”
“I thought at least she’d call…”
My mother showed a little disappointment. My father didn’t say anything, but I could tell he felt the same.
I didn’t want to raise expectations. Should I tell them now? Maybe I could explain it was due to a personality clash, and they’d understand.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to say it. This was a marriage my parents opposed, one I had insisted on. If they knew we divorced in barely three months, it would only hurt them.
Not wanting the conversation to drag and accidentally bring up the divorce, I just had a meal and drove them home.
“I’ll be going now. See you when you move.”
“Okay. Eat well. Stop losing weight—if you lose any more, our son will just be a skeleton.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Mom hugged me warmly and stepped back. I waved from the car window, my father standing stiffly behind her.
Even if I couldn’t show them a happily married life, I felt a small sense of pride that I’d at least done my best as a son.
After meeting my parents, Jeong Ji-hyun had grown unusually quiet. Concerned, I asked gently:
“Was the food not to your taste?”
“No, it was delicious.”
“Then why the expression…”
Ji-hyun hesitated before speaking.
“The resident registration copy you provided showed no family members.”
“Oh… We divorced before registering the marriage. I haven’t told my parents yet…”
Finally, color returned to her previously pale face.
“Ah, I see. That’s what was bothering me.”
“But why would that be a problem?”
I tilted my head, confused, and she blushed.
“Well… it’s about inheritance and such. Family relations need to be clear so we can provide more accurate services.”
So Im & Jeong manage even the families of their clients? Makes sense—heirs from conglomerate families often cause problems.
That must be why she came all the way to Busan to meet my parents. She’s a very professional person. I like that.
“You don’t need to manage a wife anymore. There isn’t one.”
I drew a line, and Ji-hyun finally looked relieved.
“Technically, you can’t call her your wife. She’s your live-in girlfriend.”
“Ha… right. She’s my live-in girlfriend.”
What a witty lawyer. If I hadn’t been gaslit and manipulated by that woman, I might have spent my life with someone as capable and sharp as Ji-hyun.
But the past is past. It’s time to live a new life.
Seeing my parents happy was enough to make this day a good one. Once I get home, I can just relax.
Just as I was about to switch my phone to airplane mode, a message popped up on KakaoTalk.
I glanced at it—and fury surged to the top of my head.
A photo with a red heart. The woman in it covered her face, wearing a silver glitter dress that barely covered her chest and hips, posing provocatively.
I didn’t even need to see her face to know who it was.
Another message arrived:
Yang Mi-jung’s manipulative games had begun again.
‘Should have changed my number the moment we split.’
Unexpected events had distracted me from doing that.
Yang Mi-jung—the crazy, attention-seeking manipulator—had a way of shaking me whenever I almost forgot her.
I couldn’t contain my anger and snapped my phone shut, breaking it in half.
“Oh? Are you okay?”
Ji-hyun looked shocked at my destroyed phone. I ran my messy hair back, exhaling.
“My phone was too old anyway. Steward, please dispose of this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even if I change my contact info, Yang Mi-jung would still find me. The secretary could easily check staff records, and she knows my ID number. Spending money could make tracking me quite simple.
Better to ask Im & Jeong for help.
“Ji-hyun, can you blind my personal info? Things like assets and contact info.”
“To what extent? If the government gets involved, it gets complicated.”
“Just protect what money can buy. My ex keeps sending weird photos.”
“If you mean those kinds of photos… you mean?”
Her face turned red as she clenched her fists, trembling with anger.
“Should I file a restraining order?”
“No need. I don’t want any legal entanglement.”
“Understood. I’ll handle it discreetly. We’ll even get you a new phone under our corporate name.”
“Thank you.”
Never again. I wouldn’t let that manipulative woman shake me. Never.
The golden-finished hospital room. Yang Mi-jung, lying on the bed and scrolling on her phone, had run out of patience.
It had been ten minutes since the first message, and Kang Min-hyuk still hadn’t replied.
‘Crazy… he’s ignoring my messages?’
He normally responded within five minutes, sometimes three. She knew that if he was even slightly late, it would affect her mood for the day.
She sent another string of messages, trying to force a response:
‘Ha! Can he still ignore this?’
Yet, he still hadn’t read them.
She wanted to shout in anger but couldn’t—the bandages covering her face and the pain every time she moved her jaw made it impossible. Even slight muscle movements around her eyes sent sharp pains through her nerves.
“Ugh—ugh—ugh.”
Hearing the strange cries, the assigned nurse hurried over.
“Shall I give you an injection?”
Before Mi-jung could respond, the needle was already in her IV line.
“Rest well.”
With that, the nurse left.
She had to endure this pain to erase her past and become a perfect conglomerate granddaughter.
‘The moment I join the school gang, Kang Min-hyuk… your head is mine…’
Her eyelids grew heavy, and soon she fell into a deep, drug-induced sleep.
Two days after returning from Busan, I sent my family the new phone number via text, and my sister called immediately.
“Hey, speak softly, I’m not deaf.”
“Good to hear.”
“Yes.”
We chatted about the new Haeundae house, the interior, and daily life. When I asked if the flight had been fun, my sister sighed heavily.
“What? What happened?”
From her annoyed voice and tone, I instantly knew something was wrong and naturally slipped into Busan dialect.
Apparently, a man in his 60s, appearing to be a high-ranking executive, kept groping her on the flight. She pretended not to notice to avoid a scene, but he continued all the way, making her want to grab him and jump out of the plane.
“Stop if you don’t want it.”
“What’s the problem? You know I’m rich.”
Maybe I could tell her anyway. By the time my parents move, I couldn’t hide it anymore.
“I divorced. So don’t worry about it. I haven’t told Mom and Dad, so just be careful for now.”
She paused for a moment, surprised.
Still concerned, she added:
“It’s fine. She’s out of my life. Ignoring her is better. Thinking about her just makes me angry.”
“Plan anything you want and send me a proposal. I’ll give you as much money as you need.”
“Yeah.”
My sister was ecstatic, flooding the chat with laughter.
Her playful messages made me smile.
“Hey, I’m not newly single. I’m a bachelor.”
She worked as a top-flight stewardess at Korean Air, known for producing many beautiful actresses. With her confidence, I was excited to see who she’d introduce.