IMFOBO | CH 61 | The Reason I Couldn’t Sleep a Wink

Meow—

Just then, Chobok and Malbok came over and bumped their heads against her feet with a thump.

Eun-cho gently stroked the cats as they rubbed their soft bodies against her, meowing.

Tae-san crouched in front of them and ran a hand over their heads.

“No treats for a while, you two.”

Of course, the kittens had no idea they’d just been hit with devastating news.

Malbok plopped down on the floor with her front paws tucked under her chest and purred loudly.

Tae-san chuckled and gave her plump little backside a few light pats.

All of them huddled together by the wood stove, crouched in a circle in this dimly lit corner—what a scene.

“Pfft.”

It was unforgettable—but in a completely different way than before.

When Eun-cho suddenly burst into laughter, Tae-san met her eyes in quiet amusement.

“We should go. It’s already past midnight.”

Checking the time, Eun-cho’s eyes widened.

When had it gotten so late?

That old saying about being so engrossed in a good time that even your axe handle rots—it had never hit this close to home before.

As they stepped out of the studio, a gust of cold air brushed against her cheek.

She shivered just as her shoulders instinctively hunched from the chill.

And that’s when Tae-san reached out and caught her hand, which had been swaying slightly in the air.

The feeling of their shared warmth was vivid—so vivid, her captured hand trembled faintly.

“Good night,”

Tae-san whispered softly, not forgetting to plant a brief kiss on her cheek.

…This really did feel like they were a couple.

Eun-cho tiptoed into the room and carefully lay down next to her soundly sleeping grandmother.

The tip of her nose, touched by the cold, had gone chilly, but oddly enough, a gentle heat seemed to rise from within her.

She tossed this way and that, but her heartbeat showed no signs of calming down.

The erratic, rapid pounding made it nearly impossible to fall asleep.

“Hoo…”

Why was her heart racing like this?

No matter how many times she replayed the evening, the answer was the same—it was all because of Ryu Tae-san, acting like they were in a relationship.

People said no woman could resist him if he really set his mind to it.

She just never imagined she’d be one of them.

Eun-cho turned to face the wall.

Just like before, imagining Tae-san lying on the other side of that wall made her feel like she might spend the whole night wide awake.

What if she kept wobbling like this and ended up completely falling for him?

Ryu Tae-san was looking forward to what came next between them, but all Eun-cho felt was fear.

Maybe it wasn’t just a matter of romance anymore.

Maybe it was because this felt like something bigger—like her whole life was on the line—and that vague feeling made everything more terrifying, more fragile.

After all, no matter the reality, the two of them were still, officially, husband and wife.

“Must be nice… having not a single shadow over you.”

Compared to a man who faced everything with boldness and confidence, Eun-cho felt like a withered, shriveled thing.

Even though she hadn’t grown up with her parents’ love, she’d been cherished and adored like a jewel by her grandparents.

The mere thought of this made her feel guilty, and she pressed her body against her sleeping grandmother’s back.

In her sleep, her grandmother turned and, out of habit, gently patted Eun-cho’s shoulder.

Even with her grandmother’s warmth, sleep didn’t come easily.

Her heart was just… all over the place tonight.

The night felt especially long.

* * *

Tae-san didn’t sleep a wink.

In that old hanok house, just a single wall between them made for a less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement.

He could practically hear Eun-cho’s every movement—her breaths, even.

At first, he thought it was just the lingering heat from earlier that was keeping him awake.

But that wasn’t it.

“Damn it…”

His mind was a tangled mess, caught up in the echo of something Eun-cho had said.

He’d never flinched at billion-won contracts or sky-high stakes, and yet now—why did his heart feel like it had dropped straight to the floor?

A child who looked like Eun-cho.

Her face was white as freshly fallen snow, her cheeks soft like cotton candy, her eyes sparkled like glass marbles, and her lips…

As he began to piece together the image of the child forming in his mind, a sense of disappointment steadily snowballed inside him.

Am I really that lacking when it comes to building a future together?
Haven’t I proven myself to be a decent enough option?

He’d only ever seen women falling over themselves for him, and now that he’d met Eun-cho, calm and unaffected, her unfamiliar attitude had completely thrown him off balance.

Tae-san had assumed she would fall for him soon enough, too.

But Eun-cho was different. Entirely different.

Even after seducing her with this face he’d been born with—after spending the night together—nothing had changed.

She wasn’t teasing him on purpose, hovering on the edge of giving in. No, that was just how she was. Born that way.

Her grandmother, the old hanok, the clinic, the kiln…

There were so many things more important to her than her husband.

If Ryu Tae-san even made it into her top five priorities, that would be something.

Being counted on one hand at all might just be a blessing.

And that, strangely enough, made him bitter… and also—

“It pisses me off, honestly.”

These days, Eun-cho had him on edge in more ways than one.

“Haa…”

Tae-san let out a heated breath and ran a hand over his face.

He wasn’t the type to enjoy messy drama.

He hated anything unclean or disordered.

And yet… the feel of Eun-cho’s skin from the time in the kiln still burned vividly in his palm. It was torturous.

Judging by the stillness, Eun-cho had finally fallen into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, he was wide awake, likely to stay that way until morning.

Still, what could he do?

He was cursed with a nature that had to possess anything he wanted.

That’s when the strange obsession had begun:
To see Eun-cho. To see a child who looked like her.

He’d pulled all-nighters countless times for work. But staying up because his head was flooded with spiraling thoughts? That was a first.

Still, he had no intention of letting his worn-out face show any signs of sleeplessness.

In the dead of winter, he washed up in cold water on purpose and groomed himself immaculately—every strand of hair in place.

Just as he finished getting ready, Eun-cho’s door slid open with a soft clack.

If her grandmother hadn’t woken her, she would’ve stayed wrapped up in her blankets, ignoring whether he came or went.

They were supposed to be a loving newlywed couple—shouldn’t it look like they were, at least?

“You’re up?”

Her freshly washed face lingered in his mind.

The way her eyes flicked to the clock had a subtle reproach to it.

It wasn’t even 6 AM yet—she had every right to feel annoyed.

“They say country folks are early risers. Guess that’s not always true, huh?”

“That’s because someone kept me up last night… Ugh, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

Annoyed by his teasing, Eun-cho puffed up her cheeks like a chipmunk.

Strangely, knowing she hadn’t slept well either gave him a small sense of satisfaction.

“Grandma, I’ll head back to the city for work. The car will be here on time—please take it to your appointment.”

“Oh my, I could’ve just taken you to the terminal…”

“No need for that.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Eun-cho’s face.

After all, there’s a big difference between a private car with a driver and an express bus.

This, Eun-cho, is what capitalism looks like.

“Oh no, that’s really not necessary! I can just take the bus, it’s no trouble!”

“What’s the point of having a grandson-in-law if not for things like this?”

Her grandmother waved her hands frantically, flustered.

A small back-and-forth ensued, but kindness that persistent is hard to turn down forever.

In the end, it was the grandmother who relented first.

“You’re such a busy man—what are you doing fussing over an old lady like me? Thank you, thank you, really, Ryu-seobang.”

“Please don’t mention it. As long as you’re comfortable, that’s all that matters.”

“My goodness, how can someone have such a warm heart?”

She expressed her thanks over and over.

Spending money freely was easy when you had the means.

True consideration was a little trickier, but Taesan’s calculations were clear: being good to her grandmother might just turn Euncho’s heart.

‘Warm-hearted? Ryu Tae-san? Seriously?’

How could someone’s expression be so transparent?

Tae-san held back a smile as he watched Eun-cho’s face—neither smiling nor scowling, just subtly uneasy.

She couldn’t outright deny the favor she’d received, but the way she looked so unsettled was almost amusing.

“Well then, I’ll get going now.”

“Eun-cho! What are you doing just standing there? Go see Ryu-seobang off!”

Tae-san bowed politely in farewell, acting as though he hadn’t heard the grandmother’s scolding meant for Eun-cho.

His back straightened as he stood upright again, and in that moment, his eyes met Eun-cho’s.

And then, his lips curled gently upward in a soft, deliberate smile.

“It’s fine. Eun-cho, don’t come out. It’s cold.”

Still not going to follow me?

Eun-cho’s grandmother, clearly displeased with her granddaughter’s stillness, poked her hard in the side.

“Well? What are you doing just standing there? Go after him!”

And right then, Euncho saw it.

The subtle smile on Tae-san’s face, meant only for her, the one that said: This is all going exactly as I planned.

“What a fox…”

Tae-san acted as though he hadn’t heard her muttered words and turned lightly on his heel, walking toward the edge of the village.

The further he got, the more urgently her grandmother began pushing her forward.

“Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!”

Eun-cho puffed her lips out like a pouty duck before finally going after him.

Step, step, step—her soft footsteps followed behind him, and with each sound, laughter kept slipping out of him like a madman trying to hold it in.

You expect me not to hope for anything from someone like you?

Yeah… I don’t think I can do that, Eun-cho.