Not a kind smile. Not a forgiving one. But something sharper. Colder. Amused in the way a predator might be when toying with its prey.
"Oh, Sohee," Yuna said, her voice saccharine-sweet. "You've always had such a… beautiful way with words."
Sohee blinked, momentarily thrown off. "I—I'm just speaking from my heart."
Yuna tilted her head. "Oh? That's interesting, because from where I'm sitting, it sounds more like you're just playing victim again."
The tension in the room shifted, growing thicker, heavier.
Sohee's lips parted slightly, as if she was about to argue, but Yuna leaned forward just a bit, her eyes glinting with something unreadable.
"I mean, let's be honest here," she continued, voice laced with mock sympathy. "You always had a way of making things about you. Always so good at twisting reality just enough so that you never look like the bad guy."
Sohee's face paled.
Yuna chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You don't want forgiveness, Sohee. You want absolution. You want everyone to look at you and say, 'Poor Sohee, she didn't mean it.' But the truth is… you did. You knew exactly what you were doing."
Silence.
The weight of her words settled over the table, suffocating, undeniable.
Sohee opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
And for the first time, Yuna saw it—the crack in her mask. The moment of realization that her usual tricks weren't working this time.
Yuna leaned back, picking up her glass of water and taking a slow sip, as if she hadn't just obliterated Sohee in front of everyone.
"Now," she said, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "Are we done with the theatrics? Or is there another monologue coming?"
Sohee's face burned with humiliation.
Yuna simply smiled.
Sohee sat in front of the grand dressing mirror, her delicate fingers scooping a dollop of luxurious pomade from an ornate jar. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted through the air as she smoothed the cream over her arms, her movements slow, deliberate—almost like a queen preparing for an important audience. The golden glow of the vanity lights bathed her in a soft radiance, accentuating her flawless skin, her well-maintained beauty. And yet, despite the perfection reflected back at her, irritation gnawed at the edges of her expression.
Jaewon's voice broke through the silence, snapping her from her thoughts.
"What was that back there?"
His tone was laced with something unreadable—annoyance? Suspicion? Whatever it was, it made Sohee's fingers pause against her skin for the briefest moment before she continued applying the pomade, feigning nonchalance.
"What did I do?" she asked smoothly, her voice light, innocent, but with just a hint of exasperation. "All I did was ask Yuna for forgiveness. Isn't that what everyone wants from me? Why are you so bothered about her?"
She turned in her seat to face Jaewon now, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, her lips pursed.
"It's not that," Jaewon muttered.
Sohee scoffed, crossing her arms. Not that? Oh, she wasn't stupid. She saw the way his eyes lingered on Yuna, the way he followed her every movement like a shadow he couldn't shake off. And it infuriated her.
"Then what?" she pushed, her voice dropping slightly, laced with something more dangerous. "You still look at her like you're in love with her. I thought you said you love me?"
Her words were carefully chosen, wrapped in just enough hurt to make Jaewon feel guilty, to make him say exactly what she wanted to hear. She had always been good at this—twisting emotions, manipulating situations to her advantage. After all, wasn't that how she had won him in the first place?
Jaewon let out a small sigh before stepping closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. His touch was warm, reassuring, but Sohee barely felt it. She was too busy watching his face, his expression, searching for cracks, for signs of doubt.
"Of course I love you," he said, his voice steady. "What matters now is you, me, and the baby."
Sohee let out a quiet breath, forcing herself to relax under his touch. That's right. The baby. The reason he has to stay.
"As for Heeseung…" Jaewon continued, his lips curling slightly, "Yuna isn't his type anyway. He'll divorce her."
Sohee's eyes flickered with something unreadable. Divorce?
She wanted to believe it. She wanted to cling to the idea that Yuna would be tossed aside, humiliated, cast away like an unwanted rag doll. But there was something about the way Heeseung treated Yuna that made her uneasy.
She was supposed to be the one with everything. The one who won.
Yet why did it feel like Yuna wasn't losing?
Jaewon leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm going to shower. Rest, okay?"
Sohee nodded absentmindedly, her mind already spinning in another direction. She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room.
And then—
A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips as she bit down on her thumb, pacing restlessly across the room.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked back and forth, her thoughts unraveling like tangled threads, one after another.
Why?
Why is she still happy?
Sohee's teeth clenched as she forced herself to replay the events of the night over and over again. She had taken everything from Yuna—the man she loved, her dignity, the life she was supposed to have. Yuna should have been a broken woman, miserable and alone, wallowing in self-pity.
But no.
Instead, she sat there at the dinner table, cool and composed, a quiet fire in her eyes. She wasn't shattered. She wasn't crumbling under the weight of betrayal. She was… living. Thriving. And that made Sohee's blood boil.
"I took away the man she loved," she muttered under her breath, her nails digging into her palms. "So why—why is she still so happy?"
Her thoughts spiraled deeper, twisting like thorns around her mind.
She should be crying herself to sleep at night.
She should be looking at Jaewon with longing, with regret, with pain.
She should be the one feeling small, worthless, pathetic.
And yet, it was Sohee who felt that way.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She hated this. She hated the way Yuna could sit there, unbothered, as if Sohee's existence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
I won, Sohee told herself again, trying to convince herself. I won.
Then why did it feel like she was the one losing?
She stopped pacing, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her perfectly curled hair. Her expensive silk dress. The glistening diamond ring on her finger. She had everything she ever wanted.
And yet…
Her hands curled into fists.
I need to ruin her. Completely. She needs to break.
Her mind raced with possibilities, scenarios of how she could push Yuna over the edge, how she could finally see the woman suffer the way she was meant to.
Taking Jaewon wasn't enough. It wasn't satisfying anymore. She needed more.
She needed Yuna to shatter into pieces so small she could never put herself back together again.
Yuna stood at the edge of the massive bed, her hands lightly tracing the smooth surface of the comforter as her mind raced. The bed was huge—way too big for just one person, or at least for her. She had always slept alone, a tiny corner of the bed all to herself. But this... this was different. This was Heeseung's bed. Her husband's bed. The bed where he slept, and now, where she was supposed to sleep. The vast expanse of fabric seemed to mock her with its emptiness. She could feel the weight of his presence—his eyes on her, even though he hadn't said a word.
She stared at the bed, unsure of where to place herself, where she belonged in this vast, unfamiliar territory. Was there a proper side? Did it even matter? Was it okay to just pick a side and call it hers?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, followed by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She hadn't even heard him leave to shower, so focused had she been on her internal dilemma. Before she could react, Heeseung's voice, warm and casual, broke the silence.
"What are you doing?"
Yuna jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence behind her. She whipped around to face him, her hand instinctively raising to smooth her hair, even though she knew there was no point in trying to look perfect.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir..." Her words tumbled out, and she felt a sudden wave of awkwardness rush through her. "I was just... trying to decide which side of the bed to sleep on."
She could have sworn she saw a small smirk tug at the corner of Heeseung's lips as he glanced at her. It was as if he found her indecisiveness somewhat endearing. He let out a soft chuckle, and her stomach did a small flip at the sound.
"You don't have to worry about that," he said, his tone still light. "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."
Yuna froze, her heart sinking a little at his words. Sleep on the couch? Was he being serious?
She felt a sudden urgency, a need to fix the situation before it got more awkward. This was her husband—she couldn't just let him sleep on the couch.
"Oh no, no, no, sir. I can't allow that."
Before she even realized what she was doing, Yuna had grabbed his hand, gently pulling him towards the bed and making him sit down. Heeseung looked at her, a curious eyebrow raised, clearly intrigued by her actions, but he didn't resist.
No, no way he's going to sleep on the couch, Yuna thought, her mind working at full speed. She quickly started pacing around the room, trying to figure out how to fix this, how to make sure both of them were comfortable. She grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and turned to face him.
"You should sleep on the bed. It's your bed, after all," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "And that couch doesn't look too comfy. You'll probably wake up with back pain or something," she added with a slightly playful smirk, her voice carrying an unspoken hint of concern.
Heeseung just sat there, watching her with a bemused smile, clearly amused by her sudden burst of energy. His eyes followed her as she worked, watching every move she made with quiet curiosity.
"What do you suggest?" he asked, his voice low, clearly entertained by her flurry of activity.
Yuna paused for a moment, her mind racing as she carefully set up the pillows. Right. I could make a divider. A clear line of demarcation between our sides. That way, there's no confusion about boundaries.
With an exaggerated, somewhat theatrical motion, she turned to Heeseung, presenting her solution like it was some kind of grand revelation.
"I could take the right side," she said with a small nod, "and you could take the left. Or vice versa, I suppose."
She placed the pillows with purpose, aligning them perfectly in the center of the bed.
"The pillows will act as a barrier," she continued, her voice filled with a sense of pride, "blocking off each other's territory."
She stepped back to admire her work, arms crossed over her chest, a small smirk dancing on her lips as if she had just completed some sort of major achievement. There. That should do it.
Heeseung's eyes were fixed on her, his gaze warm and full of amusement. He stared at her for a long moment, and then a soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"Is this really necessary?" he asked, his voice light with laughter.
Yuna's cheeks flushed slightly, but she held her ground. I'm trying, okay? She didn't want to seem too eager, but she didn't want to mess this up either. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable.
"It's for the best," she said, her voice firm, though the playful edge was still there. She was proud of her solution. It was silly, sure, but it felt like a small victory. She had at least done something to make this feel a little less strange.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the bed, clearly entertained by her little "territory" setup. His lips quirked into a smile, and his eyes softened.
"Alright," he said, his voice warm and accepting. "You win. I'll stick to my side."
Yuna let out a small, almost relieved laugh. Okay, maybe I went a little overboard with the pillows, she thought, but it was still a small victory. She quickly settled herself into the bed, still feeling slightly out of place, but at least she wasn't completely messing things up.