Sooah's hands trembled as she placed the documents back into the drawer. The reality of what she had just uncovered felt like an avalanche crashing down on her, its weight suffocating her. Her mind spun with questions—too many to process, yet they demanded answers.
She closed the drawer, her breath shallow, her thoughts scattered. She had always thought she understood Jaemin, had believed she knew him well. But the truth she had just stumbled upon—the layers of his hidden life—had shattered that illusion. How could he have kept this from her? Why hadn't he ever said a word about his time in the US, about his accomplishments, his wealth, his transformation?
She felt the need to confront him, to demand answers. As she stood there, the silence of the house pressing in on her, she couldn't shake the sense that something was deeply wrong. The Jaemin she had married was not the Jaemin she had once known. The walls between them had grown higher, and now, she realized, there was a vast chasm of secrets between them that she had never even suspected.
The door to their bedroom creaked open, and she turned to see Jaemin standing in the doorway, his presence as commanding as ever. He hadn't been gone long, but something about his sudden return sent a chill down her spine.
"Jaemin…" Sooah began, her voice faltering, as if the words she needed to say had become too heavy to bear.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "What is it?" His tone was casual, detached, but there was an edge to it that made her feel like she was walking on fragile ground.
Her heart raced. "I found something," she said, her voice trembling. "In your closet. Your passport. Your degree certificates… properties… assets." She paused, watching his face for any reaction. "Why didn't you tell me about this, Jaemin? Why didn't you share any of this with me?"
Jaemin's expression remained unmoving, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something cold, something distant. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His presence felt oppressive, as if the walls were closing in around them.
"So what?" he said flatly, his gaze steady, as though the discovery she had just made meant nothing at all. "What does it matter? What significance do these things hold for you?"
Sooah's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean? These aren't just 'things,' Jaemin. These are huge—" she stumbled over her words, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside her. "You've been hiding all of this from me, and I don't understand why. Why didn't you trust me with any of it?"
Jaemin let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Trust you?" He took a step closer to her, his voice cool, devoid of any emotion. "Do you honestly believe it's something I owe you? I don't owe you any explanation about my past, Sooah. These are just things I did. Just goals I set for myself and achieved. That's all."
She stared at him, disbelief and hurt rising in her chest. "Goals?" she echoed, her voice shaking. "You call that just 'setting goals'?" She took a step forward, needing to make him see, needing him to understand how much this hurt her. "Why didn't you tell me, Jaemin? Why didn't you share anything with me about those years? You disappeared for three years, and I had no idea what you were doing, who you had become. And now, I find all this—everything you've been hiding from me."
Jaemin's gaze softened, but only slightly, as if he was weighing his words carefully. "We were apart for three years, Sooah. I don't owe you anything from that time. We were broken up, remember? You had your life, and I had mine. What I did with my time was my choice. And as for everything I achieved—it's nothing special. It's just… what I did."
Sooah's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Nothing special?" she repeated, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "You've built an entire life—an identity—without me, and you think it's nothing special?"
He sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to echo in the empty room. "It's not like that. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't think it mattered. It's not relevant to our life now. The contract we signed before we got engaged again doesn't say anything about me needing to disclose everything I did before we got back together. It was my past, Sooah. It's not something I'm obligated to explain to you."
Sooah felt a pang in her chest, a sting of hurt that she couldn't explain. The words, though logical, felt cold—too cold. He sounded so detached, as if the man who had once loved her, the man she had known so well, was no longer the one standing before her.
"And the things you've hidden from me," she said, her voice faltering, "they're nothing? Not even worth sharing with the woman you married?"
Jaemin looked at her for a long moment, his gaze inscrutable. "It's not that simple," he said softly, but his words held an air of finality, as if the conversation was over. "What's the point, Sooah? What would you have wanted me to say? That I went to Harvard, that I built all this on my own? What difference does it make? I'm here now. This is who I am now."
Sooah's mind raced as she tried to make sense of his words. She felt as though she was sinking in quicksand, unable to grasp onto anything solid. The man in front of her—the one who had been so cold, so distant, and yet so close at the same time—was someone she couldn't understand anymore.
"Why didn't you trust me with the truth?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why didn't you let me in?"
Jaemin's eyes softened for just a moment before he looked away, his jaw tightening. "Because I didn't think it was necessary. It was just a phase, Sooah. A part of me that's gone. I changed. And it wasn't something I needed to explain."
Sooah felt her heart break as she stood there, facing a man who had become a stranger to her. The distance between them seemed too vast to bridge, too insurmountable. She had never asked for the details of his past, but now, it felt as though he had built a wall so high that she couldn't even see the person behind it.
Jaemin's voice broke through her thoughts, cold and final. "And besides, we're married now. That's what matters. The past doesn't matter, Sooah."
But to Sooah, it did. It always would.