Chapter 12
Being able to receive coaching from someone was a joyful experience. The initial awkwardness quickly faded, and as Cheong-yeon participated in lessons and continued to practice, his stiff expression and voice became much more natural.
Having regained his confidence, Cheong-yeon took advantage of his improved condition to seek out modeling jobs whenever he had spare time and look for a new place to move.
Fortunately, he was able to find a suitable apartment of decent size in the central area within his budget.
Once he lowered his expectations significantly, it became easier to overlook issues like mold on the walls, low ceilings, and the lack of a good view.
Being on the first floor with security bars on the windows was slightly concerning, but he thought to himself, “This is better than nothing,” and immediately set a moving date.
Before he knew it, Saturday arrived—the day he was supposed to visit his grandmother at the hospital. Remembering that Do-heon had promised to pick him up by eleven, Cheong-yeon busied himself from early morning.
“Where are you going?” asked Kim Ji-han, who was lazily watching TV on his day off while scratching his stomach. Cheong-yeon stood in front of the full-length mirror hung on the wall near the entrance, checking his appearance.
A thin V-neck sweater under a black jacket, jeans, Converse shoes, the piercing he’d recently gotten along with earrings, and his brown hair styled naturally with a minimal amount of wax.
It was a look that seemed casually put-together without appearing overly done. Quite satisfactory. He had considered dressing more elaborately but remembered he was visiting his grandmother and opted for something as subdued as possible.
“I have plans. Hey, how do I look?”
“Like a neighborhood thug on his way to a nightclub.”
“…Want to die?”
“Eek! You look just like DEX’s Yoo Cheong-yeon, oppa. Give us that signature Cheong-car pose!”
When Cheong-yeon lowered his voice and pretended to threaten him, Kim Ji-han stomped his feet and made a dramatic fuss. As Ji-han lay on the floor, sticking out his stomach and flailing around, Cheong-yeon struck a fashionable pose like he would during a photo shoot.
“Wait. But those pants and shoes are all mine.”
“They’re a bit big, but still wearable.”
“No. Why are you insisting on wearing cheap clothes from Dongdaemun when you have your own expensive ones?”
Ji-han, who had been squealing with laughter just moments before, suddenly turned serious. He gripped the pillow he’d been resting on tightly, as if about to throw it.
“I’m going somewhere I can’t wear my own clothes. Just lend them to me for today.”
“Say ‘Please lend them to me, hyung.'”
“Please lend them to me, hyung.”
“DEX’s center is Kim Ji-han.”
“…DEX’s… is …han.”
Cheong-yeon mumbled the words, slurring his pronunciation with minimal effort.
“Good. I’m glad you finally understand. Wear them carefully.”
“Oh, right. I’ve set my moving date.”
“Oh. Congratulations? But why aren’t you answering about keeping the clothes clean?”
“I’ll be leaving soon, so just put up with the inconvenience a little longer.”
“Shit, forget about moving—just wear the damn clothes carefully! Those pants were expensive!”
“Anyway, thanks for everything.”
“Ah! This guy, seriously!”
Ignoring Ji-han’s shouting, Cheong-yeon made one final check of his appearance before leaving the house.
As expected, Do-heon’s car was parked at the end of the alley. After pausing briefly to take a deep breath, Cheong-yeon strode forward.
The thought of having to pretend to still be married to him made him nervous. Knowing that Do-heon’s family was sensitive to pheromones, he had already taken his medication in advance. It was the first time he’d taken pheromone suppressants since the divorce.
“I’ll depart as soon as you get in,” said Secretary Shim, who got out of the driver’s seat to open the door for him. Do-heon was already seated in the back.
“…”
It felt uncomfortable to sit next to him. Though he considered changing seats, something about suddenly getting out of the car and fleeing to the front seat seemed beneath his dignity.
Do-heon was still breathtakingly perfect in his appearance. Even at a glance, he was the epitome of a Dominant Alpha. His posture was straight without any bend or curve, and his features were as refined as a meticulously crafted statue, sometimes seeming almost artificially perfect.
Had Cheong-yeon not been so tense, he might have been mesmerized by his appearance and stared for a long time.
Cheong-yeon maintained his composure with effort and sat down at a distance from Do-heon.
“I told you black would be better.”
For his first greeting, Do-heon was once again criticizing his hair color. Without even turning his head toward Do-heon, Cheong-yeon responded curtly.
“I like it as it is.”
…Surely he wouldn’t take back the card just because he hadn’t dyed his hair. Even though he knew Do-heon wasn’t that petty, he couldn’t help feeling anxious.
But he had only agreed to visit his grandmother that day, not to change his appearance. His only obligation was to pretend to still be married to Do-heon while meeting his grandmother.
“Secretary Shim.”
“Just a moment. Here it is.”
When Do-heon called Secretary Shim in a low voice, the man in the driver’s seat took out a large shopping bag from the front seat and passed it to the back.
“What’s this?”
Cheong-yeon checked the contents of the shopping bag placed in front of him. Inside were a navy shirt and beige slacks to wear over what he had on.
“Change into these.”
His tone was distinctly authoritarian. Cheong-yeon clutched the shopping bag and stared at Do-heon.
When he met those cold eyes filled with nothing but rationality, his earlier defiance disappeared, and he quickly became intimidated. Just as he had been for the past three years.
He thought he’d no longer feel small in front of that gaze. It was a moment when Cheong-yeon’s illusion shattered completely.
“I don’t have time to play along with your games.”
“…”
Secretary Shim in the driver’s seat glanced at Cheong-yeon through the mirror. A heavy silence filled the car.
It felt suffocating. Cheong-yeon wanted nothing more than to escape from this car immediately.
After a moment, Cheong-yeon began gathering up the shirt and pants. They were from the luxury brand he often wore when living with Do-heon. Judging by the tags still attached, they seemed newly purchased, but they could just as easily have been taken directly from Cheong-yeon’s dressing room in the mansion.
What Do-heon wanted from Cheong-yeon was always consistent: a Recessive Omega who was subdued, calm, and moderately intellectual.
“Secretary Shim, please step outside for a moment.”
Do-heon sent Secretary Shim out of the car. This was obviously meant to give him privacy to change clothes. His voice was resolute, not allowing for even the slightest compromise.
With no choice, Cheong-yeon removed the tags, took off his jacket, and put on the shirt over his clothes. He also took off the pants he’d worn from home and changed into the new ones Do-heon had provided.
Although they were in a car and he didn’t feel comfortable changing pants in front of him, he found himself complying with his order as if pushed by an invisible force.
While thinking how terrifying habits could be, he moved mechanically, trying to appear as natural as possible. He didn’t want to show any sign that he was conscious of Do-heon’s presence.
“Take out the piercings too.”
Suppressing a sigh, Cheong-yeon removed all the piercings and earrings from his ears. Do-heon put them in a small velvet accessory case.
Only after everything had been done according to Do-heon’s wishes did he lower the window and signal to Secretary Shim. Secretary Shim, who had been waiting outside, finally returned to the driver’s seat.
As the car started and began to move, Do-heon took out an even smaller case from his jacket’s inner pocket than the one seen earlier.
Cheong-yeon silently accepted it and opened it.
“…Do I have to wear this too?”
It was their wedding rings. Cheong-yeon couldn’t hide his disgruntled expression as he took out the ring and fidgeted with it.
The day he had served the divorce papers, he had removed it from his finger and stashed it somewhere in the house. His memory was fuzzy, so he wondered where Do-heon had found it.
“I told you. We need to pretend to be a married couple.”
Looking closer, Do-heon was also wearing the same ring on his ring finger. Since he had agreed to this arrangement, Cheong-yeon reluctantly put on the ring. It was slightly loose since he had lost weight since their marriage, but he had the illusion that the cold metal was tightly squeezing his finger.
Like a shackle.
All the excitement and happiness he had felt when first putting this ring on his finger had now completely evaporated.
“Sigh…”
His heart began to race intensely, as if he had returned to those unhappy months from before. Cheong-yeon found this entire situation uncomfortable.
He wanted to express some complaint to Do-heon beside him, but after opening and closing his lips a few times, Cheong-yeon ultimately chose silence.
“Grandmother. We’re here.”
As soon as they entered the house with its massive garden on the outskirts of Seoul, Cheong-yeon greeted her in a bright voice. His grandmother was sitting on the living room sofa, doing embroidery.
She looked a bit paler than when he had last seen her. Still, he had worried she might be bedridden and unable to move on her own, so seeing her sitting comfortably brought him relief.
“It’s been a while. An old woman collapses, and you don’t even visit once.”
Grandmother raised her head and met Cheong-yeon’s eyes as he entered the living room. Despite her pointed words, her expression remained gentle.
“I deliberately didn’t tell Cheong-yeon. I was afraid he would be shocked.”
