7 Years Ago
I step through the front door of our apartment, exhausted after a long day at the office. The faint sound of raised voices drifts in from the living room, immediately putting me on edge. As I get closer, I recognize Inha's deep baritone mixed with the shrill, grating tones of his mother.
"...after everything I've given you!" she snaps, the disdain dripping from her words. "This is an opportunity. You cannot be weak-minded or short-sighted in this business, Inha. We need to continue to expand and grow for the good of the company."
"That's enough," Inha growls, his words laced with a quiet menace. "I'm not taking part in this. You can make whatever business decisions you want for your business, but I can decide for myself what I want to sign my name to, and I won't put my name on that."
I pause in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. I know I should announce my presence, but something holds me back, rooting me to the spot.
"Don't be foolish," his mother scoffs derisively. "You need to make a name for yourself outside of just being a Kang. You have a family to support, a wife to take care of. You need to provide for her and any children you might have. You can't do that by riding on my coattails forever."
There's a tense silence that seems to stretch on for an eternity. When Inha finally speaks again, his voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the simmering rage bubbling just beneath the surface.
"I will not be the kind of man who makes a name for himself by eating those smaller than him," he bites out, each word precise and clipped. "This is dirty business. Kicking those who are already down. Money I don't need just to take it out of the pockets of those who barely have any in the first place."
His mother sucks in an offended breath, no doubt prepared to unleash another blistering retort. But Inha cuts her off before she can get a word out.
"This discussion is over," he states firmly, leaving no room for argument. "I've made my decision, and it's final. I won't do it, and I don't want to be associated with it."
There's a weighted pause before I hear the telltale clack of his mother's heels as she storms toward the entryway. I quickly duck into the hallway bathroom, pressing my back against the door as she sweeps past in a whirlwind of rage and floral perfume.
I give Inha's mother a tentative nod as she breezes past me, her face twisted into a scowl. I linger in the hallway for a moment, bracing myself, before slowly making my way into the living room.
Inha is standing with his back to me, his broad shoulders tense and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. I can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. Carefully, I approach and lay a gentle hand on his arm.
"That sounded like a lively family discussion," I say, trying to make the atmosphere lighter.
He exhales a long, shuddering breath and turns to face me. His expression is tight, his jaw clenched, but his eyes soften infinitesimally when they meet mine.
"She's infuriating. She just thinks she can steamroll me into doing whatever she wants. She thinks the only way to get further in life is by stepping on the people below you."
He runs a hand over his face, clearly agitated.
I reach out and take Inha's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What was she trying to pressure you into this time?"
He grimaces, his thumb absently rubbing circles over the back of my hand. "She wants me to head up a new development project. She's planning an acquisition of an older housing unit in some far-flung suburb of the city, and she wants to redevelop it into high-end apartments."
I raise my eyebrows, considering. On the surface, it does sound like a good opportunity for Inha to get more involved in the family business and establish himself. "That doesn't sound too bad. Putting your stamp on a big project like that could be good exposure."
Inha's jaw tightens and he shakes his head grimly. "It's not that simple. The complex she wants to acquire is low-income housing. If we turn it into luxury apartments, we'll be pricing out hundreds of families that can already barely make ends meet."
He lets out a frustrated exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly. "She doesn't care about uprooting all those people's lives, kicking them out on the street just to make a bigger profit. As long as it lines her pockets, she doesn't give a damn about who gets stepped on in the process."
I feel a twinge of sadness grip my heart as realization dawns. No wonder Inha was so angry with his mother. "Ah, I see. So it's a money grab and she wants your name on it so you get the heat and the blame when the disgruntled residents are outpriced."
I watch Inha closely as he vents his frustration, his handsome features pinched with a pained scowl. I'm a bit surprised by his condemnation of his mother's underhanded business tactics. This is a side of Inha I haven't seen before.
Up to this point, while I've warmed to him as a husband and if I'm being honest, feel attracted to him on a baser level, I'll admit I had pegged him as the spoiled, privileged son who never had to work a day in his life. Just coasting through on his family's wealth and status. But hearing the vehement disgust in his voice, I realize there are layers to Inha.
Maybe he's not just some shallow rich kid who's had everything handed to him. Maybe there's a bit of decency and depth under that polished, aristocratic exterior. It says something that he so staunchly opposes taking advantage of others, even if it might benefit him financially.
It makes me a bit ashamed to think back to my initial dismissive assessment of Inha's character. I had unfairly prejudged him and pigeonholed him as a run-of-the-mill chaebol with a pretty face. Things have been changing since we've been married, and the more I see of him the more I start to understand why the system thought we might be compatible. Which I'd been questioning at first.
As he continues ranting, his voice tight with righteous indignation, I find myself newly intrigued by this unexpected glimpse at Inha's principles. The way his eyes spark with conviction, the passionate cadence of his words - it's clear this is personal to him. This specific stance on how he plans to work within his family's business.
A small, unbidden smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I watch Inha pace agitatedly, his broad shoulders tense with frustration. At this moment, there's just the slightest shift inside of me.
A flicker of respect and admiration takes root. Maybe there's more to this man than meets the eye after all.
Later, several weeks after that tense confrontation with Inha's mother, I'm folding laundry in the hall when I hear the doorbell chime. I listen but before I can move to answer I hear Inha buzz whoever it is in, then I hear the tell-tale click of Inha's mother's typical heels. My hands still over the pile of freshly laundered clothes as her shrill voice carries down the hallway.
"Let us sit down. I have things to discuss with you."
I tense instinctively at her imperious tone, the demanding cadence that brooks no argument. A moment later, Inha's low voice rumbles in answer, muffled through the walls.
"In here then, since you insist on giving out orders in my house."
"It's your wife's house," comes Inha's mother's sharp retort. I can almost hear Inha rolling his eyes.
I don't really want a run-in with Inha's mother, so before they can catch sight of me I quickly gather up the laundry basket and slip into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. I know better than to insert myself into one of their arguments if I can help it.
I close the bedroom door most of the way, but leave it open just enough that I can see out and hear their words clearly. Inha's mother's voice rises again, sharp and insistent.
"This development is a huge opportunity for you, for our family's legacy. But you're squandering it with your stubborn pride!"
"I've told you already, I'm not interested in being a part of something so unethical," Inha retorts, his words clipped. "Displacing all those families just for profit? It's wrong."
"Wrong?" His mother's derisive scoff makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle. "Don't be so naive. This is business. If you want to make your mark, you can't let petty morals hold you back."
There's a long, charged pause before Inha speaks again, his tone low and measured. "Those 'petty morals' are the only thing separating me from being just another greedy corporate raider."
"You're letting your ridiculous sentimentality cloud your judgment," his mother snaps. "This is the real world, Inha. Either you take this project and start proving you have what it takes to lead, or..."
She trails off ominously, and I can't resist inching a few steps closer, my heart pounding.
"Or what?" Inha's voice is dangerously quiet, challenging.
His mother's reply is immediate, her words ringing out harsh and uncompromising.
"Or you're cut off. From the business, the assets, everything. It will be like you were never a Kang at all."
My breath catches in my throat as those words hit me like a physical blow. Cut off from his family's wealth and status? Inha's entire identity stripped away on his mother's whim? Just for refusing to go along with something morally questionable?
I brace myself against the wall, my knuckles white as they clutch the laundry basket. This is serious - an ultimatum of the highest order. Inha's mother isn't making an idle threat. I know she has the power and influence to follow through.
A deafening silence stretches out as I wait with bated breath for Inha's response. When he finally speaks, his voice is little more than a gravelly rasp, but it rings with conviction.
"Then I guess you'll have to cut me off. Because I won't be a party to ruining people's lives just to line our pockets."
My heart clenches painfully in my chest as the implications of Inha's words sink in. He's really going to do it - defy his domineering mother at the cost of everything he's ever known.
All because he refuses to compromise his principles.
After Inha's mother storms out in a huff, I linger in the hallway for a long moment, trying to process everything I've just overheard. The weight of Inha's sacrifice - willingly walking away from his family's wealth and legacy over a matter of ethics - is staggering.
A distant part of me wonders if I would have that same strength of conviction in his position.
Eventually, I steel myself and make my way back into the living room. Inha is slumped on the couch, his elbows braced on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. The tense lines of his shoulders speak volumes about his inner turmoil.
Carefully, I lower myself onto the couch beside him, setting the laundry basket aside. I don't say anything at first, just reach out and lay my hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Inha lifts his head, his dark eyes clouded - frustration, resignation, and maybe even a glimmer of fear lurking in the dark brown color of them. He looks utterly drained, the weight of his choice visibly bearing down on him.
"Hey," I murmur softly, my thumb tracing soothing circles over his knuckles. "You okay?"
He lets out a humorless huff of breath, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know. I've never directly defied my mother like that before."
I nod in understanding, sliding closer until our thighs are pressed together. "That took nerve. I'm sure she'll be fuming over that one for a while. But Inha..." I pause, waiting until he meets my gaze again. "I'm proud of you for sticking to your values, even when it wasn't the easy choice."
Something in his expression softens ever so slightly at my words, the barest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You mean that?"
"Of course," I assure him without hesitation. "You put your foot down and wouldn't let yourself be manipulated into doing something you knew was wrong. That takes real courage and integrity."
Inha lets out a shaky exhale, his shoulders slumping as if an enormous weight has been lifted. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."
He reaches out, cupping my cheek in his palm with a tenderness that makes my breath catch. His eyes search mine intently for a long moment before he speaks again, his voice thick with emotion.
"I have no idea what I'm going to do now. But I'll figure it out. I promise I'll take care of you and our family, no matter what."
I nod wordlessly, my heart swelling with a rush of affection and respect for this man. My brave, principled husband who has just made the biggest sacrifice imaginable to do the right thing.
Before I can second guess myself, I lean in and press my lips to Inha's in a soft, lingering kiss. He tenses briefly in surprise before melting into me, his arms winding around my waist and pulling me flush against the solid line of his body.
In that moment, there are no more doubts or hesitations lingering between us. I just want him and to be closer to him. I feel more open to him now, and whatever results of this, at least I know where we stand. Together.
Several weeks go by after the tense confrontation with Inha's mother. It's been suspiciously quiet and though Inha's mother threatened to disown him Inha is still going to work every day the same as always. So maybe she was bluffing, but I doubt it. Instead, I think she's plotting some other strategy to get at him. It makes me edgy.
One afternoon, I get home late in the afternoon, my mind preoccupied with thoughts of what to order for dinner. As I enter the living room, I'm surprised to find Inha seated on the couch, a stern-looking woman in a crisp pantsuit sitting across from him. She has a briefcase open on the coffee table, various documents and folders spread out before them.
Inha looks up as I enter, his expression unreadable. "Ah, Yena. You're home."
I nod, my brow furrowing slightly as I take in the scene. "Everything okay?"
The woman rises smoothly to her feet, offering me a polite smile. "Mrs. Kang. I'm Hwayoung Park, Mr. Kang's legal counsel. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Legal counsel? A knot of unease forms in the pit of my stomach as my gaze flicks back to Inha questioningly.
I eye Inha warily as the lawyer gathers her briefcase and documents, snapping it closed with an air of finality. Something about her presence here has me deeply unsettled.
As soon as she's gone, I turn to Inha, my brow furrowed. "What was that all about? Why did you need to meet with a lawyer?"
To my surprise, Inha's expression is almost...smug. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a self-satisfied smile as he leans back against the couch cushions.
"That was about putting my money where my mouth is," he declares. "I'm buying that housing development my mother wanted to acquire."
I blink, taken aback. "You...what? But I thought you didn't want anything to do with displacing all those families?"
Inha's smile widens fractionally. "Exactly. Which is why I'll be overseeing the renovations myself - without any oversight or interference from my mother or her company."
It takes me a moment to process his meaning, but realization slowly dawns. "You're...undermining her ultimatum? Going behind her back with this project?"
"In a manner of speaking," Inha allows with a casual shrug, though the triumphant glint in his eye tells me he's taking great satisfaction in this rebellion. "I'll be bankrolling the whole endeavor myself, using my personal assets. She can't stop me."
A surprised laugh bubbles up from my chest as I sink onto the couch beside him, still trying to wrap my head around this unexpected turn of events. "You're really going to do this on your own? Just to spite her?"
"Not just to spite her," Inha corrects, his expression sobering somewhat. "To do things the right way - the ethical way. Those people living there now won't be displaced at all. In fact..." He pauses, holding my gaze meaningfully. "I'm going to offer every single one of them a permanent lease in the new building, at half of what they're currently paying for rent."
I can only gape at him, stunned into speechlessness for several long moments as the full implications sink in. Inha is essentially circumventing his mother's plans by personally taking over and ensuring the renovations are handled responsibly and humanely. All while maintaining his principles and sticking it to her in the process.
"Inha..." I murmur, awe and admiration coloring my tone as I reach out to grasp his hand tightly. "You're a force of nature, you know that?"
He gives a casual one-shouldered shrug, but I can see the quiet pride glimmering in his warm brown eyes. "It's the right thing to do. Besides..." His gaze holds mine intently. "If I don't stand up to my mother, she's going to keep trying to control me and mold me to her ways until I fight back. I think now's the time to make it clear that she cannot push her ideals onto me."
I feel something shift inside me, like the last fragments of uncertainty about this man are crumbling away. In their place is respect and admiration for Inha's integrity - his willingness to go to such incredible lengths to uphold his values while still providing for those he cares about.
Unable to find the right words, I simply squeeze his hand tighter as a warm, brilliant smile stretches across my face.
I see Inha differently now. Not just the husband I was given, not a rich boy breezing his way through life, not simply someone I have to live with. Someone I want. To be with, to know. To think of as mine.
* * *
Present
I wake to the quiet stillness of the apartment, the sheets beside me cool and empty. Inha must have already left for work.
Stretching languidly, I allow myself a few moments to simply bask in the warm glow of the memory that returned to me yesterday. The recollection of that pivotal conversation, the way Inha stood up to his mother and committed himself to doing the right thing...it shifts something fundamental inside me.
Slowly, I sit up, hugging my knees to my chest as I gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Seoul skyline. The early morning light casts a soft, golden sheen over everything.
And I realize with startling clarity that along with the memory...the emotions have returned as well. The respect, the admiration, the utter awe I felt watching Inha take a stand, seeing the strength of his character shine through.
But it's more than that. It's the flutter in my chest when I think of his warm brown eyes, the curve of his smile. It's the way my heart swells with affection and longing.
Oh, God. I'm in love with him.
The thought steals my breath, sends new warmth spreading through my body. I don't know how or when it happened, before I lost my memories. But I know with bone-deep certainty that I love Kang Inha.
Suddenly restless, I throw back the covers and pad out into the living room, my mind awhirl. Everything feels different now, cast in a new light. The apartment is no longer just a space I inhabit but a home built with a man I adore.
My fingers brush over the soft leather of the couch, the smooth marble of the kitchen counter, each surface imbued with new meaning. Everywhere I look, I see us. Our life together, the family we've created.
This place is ours. Us. I need to take it back, take back the bond formed with my husband. No matter the challenges ahead, no matter what else I may uncover about my past...this feels right. Unshakably, unequivocally right.
I'm in love with my husband. And I need him back.
***
I can't focus all day, my mind utterly consumed by thoughts of Inha. The memories of our early relationship, tinged with new emotional depth, keep resurfacing. Each recollection stokes the growing fire inside me.
His warm chuckle as he pulled me close. The tender way he'd brush my hair from my face. That blazing look of desire whenever our eyes met.
By the time I arrive home, I'm a raw bundle of nerves and want. I need him, need to reconnect on a visceral level. To reforge that physical connection we once had.
I burst through the front door, my pulse thundering with purpose. Inha's car was already parked in the space next to mine in the garage, so I know he's home.
Leaving my heels abandoned in the entryway, I stride directly to our bedroom.
Sure enough, I round the corner to find Inha shrugging out of his suit jacket, his broad back to me. Desire lances through me like a lightning bolt.
He half-turns at the sound of my approach, those gorgeous eyes widening slightly. "Hey, I didn't hear you come—"
I watch as Inha stops undoing his tie, his hands frozen mid-motion. His gaze meets mine, and for a moment, time seems to slow. The air between us crackles with tension, anticipation.
His eyes dart up and down, taking in the expression on my face. His greeting dies on his lips, turning into a question. "Are you—"
I silence his words, stepping closer and closing the space between us. Inha blinks rapidly in as I reach up and grip the end of his tie, pulling it the rest of the way off in one slow, fluid motion. The silk slides easily through my fingers, pooling on the floor at our feet. Inha's eyes follow the movement, surprise flickering across his features.
Before he can question my behavior, I boldly start undoing the buttons of his shirt. My fingers tremble slightly as they brush against the warm skin of his chest, revealing it inch by inch. His breath hitches, and I can feel the rapid beat of his pulse beneath my palm.
I watch as his eyes darken, flaring with desire. I can see the question there, the indecision as he figures out what I'm doing and wonders whether he should stop me. He's hesitating. But I don't give him a chance to voice it. Instead, I stretch up onto my toes and seal my mouth over his.
The kiss is hungry, urgent. A year's worth of longing comes out in a single desperate plea. His arms wrap around my waist automatically, pulling me closer till we're flush against each other and I can feel the rigid lines of his body against me.
Furious heat punches me in the gut, and without thinking too hard about the sudden aggression that tosses my inhibitions out the window my hands are in his hair, my tongue tracing his, the taste of him driving me wild, wanting more of it. His hot breath on my cheeks and the rough texture of his fingertips on my bare skin as they slide beneath my shirt make me want to groan in delight.
My hips press against his and Inha makes a deep rumbling sound in his throat. My teeth rake his bottom lip and I feel the shudder that runs through him.
His hand is on the back of my neck suddenly, holding me in place while he dominates my mouth with his tongue in retaliation. I lean into, hands tangled in his hair. I know each step of this dance without realizing I know until I'm already doing it, perfectly matching his push and pull.
His free hand smooths up my side beneath my shirt, I struggle to concentrate as he palms one breast, squeezing lightly. Inha pulls his mouth from mine abruptly, trailing his lips down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I gasp, tilting my head back to give him better access. His hand is rough on my breast, but the rough handling only sends more heat flooding my veins.
My hands run down his back, feeling the muscles bunch beneath the material of his shirt, his sharp cologne flooding my senses right along with his taste, making my head hazy with nothing but raw need.
Inha's hands cup my face, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. He looks into my eyes, his are night dark now, gleaming with unmistakable arousal. I kiss him again, needing the heat and aggression of his mouth.
Inha's arm drops, and I feel his fingers find the zipper at the back of my skirt, like he knows exactly where it is. Like he's done this thousands of times. Memorized it. He pushes my skirt down, cupping my ass, running his hand over the curve of my hips while his mouth teases me to a needy drunken state of primal want.
I pull at the sides of his shirt, get him to shrug out of it. I pull back, my chest heaving. I run hungry eyes down the front of his bare chest, drinking in the lines of tanned skin and lithe muscle.
Inha's chest his heaving, his mouth pink from the force of our fervor. I tuck a hand just into the waistband of his slacks, pop the button in a practiced move I had no idea I knew. My fingers remember though.
Inha's brows shoot up, but his eyes dance with delight. I move in against him, looking up into his heated gaze as I run my hand up his chest.
Inha hooks and arm behind my knees and suddenly lifts me with one arm. I let out a surprise breath as my feet leave the ground, but Inha doesn't even look like he's putting in an effort as he carries me to the bed. I drop onto the top of the mattress with a soft bounce. Inha kneels on the end of it, leaning forward to grip the hem of my blouse and pulling it quickly over my head.
My hair tumbles down my back in a loose wave as Inha pushes me back slightly, bracing himself on one hand as he picks up one of my legs by the ankle and shifts me. I follow his lead, laying back against the pillows.
My breath stutters when he places a light kiss on the inside of my calf, and I have to remind myself to keep breathing as he moves his way up, leaving a trail with his mouth.
His dark eyes glitter beneath the low bedroom lights as he kneels between my legs and pushes them apart.
I bite my lip as his fingers hook in the top of my panties and he slides them down my legs. I can feel my own pulse picking up speed as his breathe fans my inner thigh, and then he's there, his mouth so close to my core goosebumps rise up and down my arms.
I can't do anything but hold still and pant as I wait for him to make his next move. His tongue swipes through my folds in one hot, long flick and I nearly moan in relief.
His mouth closes over my center entirely and my back bows as he gets to work, licking, sucking, teasing. Then his tongue finds my clit and my hands fist the duvet as he traces circles around it, flicks it with his tongue, and then finally closes his lips over the small bud and sucks.
I keen, head thrown back as pleasure fires through my nerve endings and white-hot heat floods my core. He tortures me with just barely enough drags of his mouth and tongue and delicious pressure for several minutes, until I'm a writhing, moaning mess. My body thrums, my muscles wound tight, I'm drawn like a bowstring on the precipice, closer, closer. And then, with one final flick of his tongue, I'm sent over the edge, my body convulsing with pleasure. My throat aches from the scream that peals out, my mind going blank with anything but overwhelming ecstasy.
Inha looks up at me, a smug, satisfied smile on his face. Figures he would get satisfaction from knowing exactly how to play my body right. Fine, he can have that. I want more.
I sit up and grip him by the base of the neck, my mouth crashing onto his. I stopped caring about being gentle a while back. I kiss him so hard I can feel my teeth scrape his. Inha doesn't care, I can tell he likes it by the way he grips me back, mouth fighting mine for control, the brutal way it excites him.
I trace my fingers along Inha's chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He groans, his hands tightening on my hips as I explore his body. I can feel his heart pounding in time with mine, feel the rigid length of his need between my legs.
I lean down, pressing my lips to his chest. Inha's breath hitches as I kiss my way down his body, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. I can feel him tensing, keeping a tight leash on his control.
I reach his the tops of his pant, and Inha obliges as I pull at them so he can kick them off.
As I pull at his boxers and his rigid arousal is exposed, I lick my lips. He's thick and hard, flushed at the tip. I fully intend on pleasuring him, but Inha has apparently reached the end of his patience.
He grips me by the hips and flips me. I squeak in surprise, but before I can blink Inha is hovering above me, mouth open and breathing hard, pupils blown wide.
He kicks my legs open, slotting his hips into place. He glances up, holding my eye, then swoops down and takes possession of my mouth once more. I feel the tip of his cock brush my folds, feel the pressure as he slots it at my entrance and then I moan, deep and long, as he pushes his hips forward and he slides into the slickness of my heat, parts me, fills me. It's one of the most satisfying things I've ever felt.
"Fuck," Inha groans, bracing himself on his elbows and hanging his head. I feel his hair brush my shoulder and I kiss the side of his neck, encouraging him to move.
His hips rock, and I gasp and move mine to match his, rolling with the motions. He reaches one hand to grip my hips, trying to slow me down.
"Shit, Yena baby, you feel so fucking good," he rasps in my ear. I reach my arms around him, holding onto his shoulders as he picks up the pace, driving his hips, spearing his cock into me harder and faster. Every drag of his hips has his thick cock brushing my walls, drawing out the pleasure.
I moan, begging wordlessly for more, my nails dig into his back. It's about then that Inha lets out a low curse and his fingers tighten on my hip as he starts to slam ruthlessly, every thrust driving me higher and higher.
I can feel the pleasure building, my body tightening around him. Inha's breath is hot against my ear, his voice low and rough.
I can feel myself getting closer, my body trembling with anticipation. And then, Inha snaps his hips, his cock plunges into me all the way to the hilt and I feel his body bowing. Inha makes a strangled sound, and the sensation does it for me, we're both sent over the edge. I cry out, my body convulsing as Inha groans.
We lay there, panting and spent. Inha falls to the side at some point, and for a long time all I can hear is our labored breaths. Sometime later, I realize Inha's arms are around me, holding me close as our hearts slowly return to their normal rhythm.
There it is, I think, the thing I've been missing.