IMFOBO | CH 62 | I Can’t Accept It

Just look at that sly man, Eun-cho thought.
Pretending not to care, but his steps were slower than usual, like he was deliberately adjusting his pace so she could catch up.

“You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

The courteous and composed Ryu Tae-san from earlier, who’d been so proper in front of her grandmother, had disappeared without a trace.

Eun-cho suppressed the urge to click her tongue at how easily he dropped the act.
She had no interest in doing something as foolish as paying him back tenfold for a favor she didn’t ask for.

“You, on the other hand, look like you slept like a baby. Skin all smooth and glowing.”

“That’s just natural talent.”

Tae-san chuckled lightly.

Off in the distance, she could see Gi-wang standing beside the parked car, just a small dot at the end of the alley.

Suddenly, Tae-san stopped and pulled Eun-cho into the corner of a wall by the alley turn, where they wouldn’t be seen from the road.

The suddenness of it made her heart leap in her chest.

Seriously, could he stop being so dramatic?

“Fix my tie for me.”

“Right now? It looks perfectly fine to me.”

“Didn’t you hear what your grandma said earlier? To take care of your husband.”

Now what is this about?

Eun-cho furrowed her brow, her expression skeptical as she tried to gauge his true intentions.

“Better?”

With a wide smile, Tae-san reached up and tugged the neatly tied knot loose with his index finger.

In an instant, the tie drooped into a mess, swinging lazily from his collar.

What is wrong with this guy?

“I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

“Then learn.”

He brought his body forward, guiding her hands in his as he placed hers on the tie.

Her slender frame was easily drawn in, leaving barely any space between them.

So close, they were nearly touching—yet he seemed utterly unfazed.

Of course, he’s fine. A man who slept like a rock last night wouldn’t be shaken by something this trivial.

Still holding her hands, Tae-san moved to fix the tie.

The tension in his grip—how it flexed and relaxed—sent a strange sensation blooming up her arms.

Honestly, no man has ever made tying a tie feel this suggestive—only Ryu Tae-san could pull this off.

“……”

And it was too close.

All this was just an excuse. She knew it.
He clearly wanted this kind of moment.

Eun-cho held her breath, the proximity making it hard to breathe.
She jerked her face to the left, but Tae-san simply squeezed her hands tighter.

“Look at me.”

Somehow, the tie was neatly in place again.

Everything seemed unchanged—except for the faint flush now blooming on Eun-cho’s cheeks.

Then, Tae-san leaned in, his lips nearing her ear, like he had something secret to confess.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Eun-cho deliberately looked away.

But right then, her eyes caught the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Thump. Thud. Thump.

The sound of a pounding heart echoed in her ears—loud and forceful, thanks to how close he was.

But whose heartbeat was it?

Hers? His?
She couldn’t tell. And that uncertainty—that feeling—was what made it so dangerous.

As soon as she realized it, her face grew strangely hot.

Even though she knew she was being completely swept along, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.

“The thought that I’m not in your future,”
“…”
“I can’t accept it.”

Was he talking about a child?

She hadn’t expected him to react so seriously.
A wave of flustered confusion rushed over her.

She wanted to argue—what meaning does a child even have in a temporary marriage?

But what Tae-san was referring to wasn’t the child.
It was them.

Whether or not they had a child in the future didn’t matter—what this man wanted was a future with her in it.

The moment that realization hit, her stomach churned and turned over.
Tae-san didn’t know how to sugarcoat anything.
His eyes were quiet, unreadable.

Trying to decipher his intentions from eyes like that was near impossible.

“Think seriously about it. I’ve become pretty serious about this marriage.”

Why did those words feel more direct than a love confession?

This was completely unexpected.
Contrary to her vague preconceptions from the start, he turned out to be decent, had no other women around, and was doing his best regarding the marriage.
She could admit that much.

But even so, she’d thought he wouldn’t cross this last line.

“Serious,” he says.

That, too, had been a misjudgment.

He’d shattered the final wall without hesitation, without a second thought.

“Mr. Ryu Tae-san… Do you like me?”

This wasn’t about extending a contract anymore.
He was looking for something real.
Even seeing it with her own eyes, it was hard to believe.

“Dunno. Feels like you’d know better than I do.”

You mean the way I feel about you says everything?

Once again, words caught in her throat.

Tae-san gave her that sly, bright smile of his.

“I want to be someone who just naturally belongs in your life.”

He was shameless.
Yet he said it all while still smiling like a child.

Then… what about the reverse?

If Ryu Tae-san imagined a future with Lee Eun-cho in it, what did that mean?

She couldn’t bring herself to ask.
As if voicing it would make it real, make it irreversible.

No. It’s not love.

This warped possessiveness, this obsession—there’s no way it could be love.

Eun-cho felt like something was tightening around her throat.
Like she’d been pinned down by a gaze that refused to budge even an inch.

Tae-san reached out and lightly tapped her cheek.

A small, feather-light touch.

“Don’t ignore my calls.”

“…”

“I’m going.”

He leaned toward her, close.

His lips brushed softly against the side of her cheek near her earlobe—then pulled away.

Warm and damp, the sensation lingered like a burn.

She could hear his footsteps fading, but her body refused to move.

His words echoed inside her like a loop she couldn’t escape from.

“Haa…”

As if that weren’t enough, how could a single kiss feel this inappropriate?

This intoxicating?

Late-blooming passion really was a terrifying thing.

Her head was a mess—too tangled, too noisy.

Eun-cho crouched next to the wall, resting her forehead on her knees.

Like a fool, she’d been swept along and just let him go.

Her cheeks were burning hot.

Every time she got tangled up with Ryu Tae-san, it was like a screw came loose somewhere.

She just couldn’t get her head on straight.

* * *

Eun-cho sent her grandmother off in a comfortable sedan, then returned alone to the old house.

A place that had once been full of warmth and people suddenly felt too wide, too cold.

As she moved quickly to get ready for work, her steps stopped—right in front of Tae-san’s room.

He was the kind of man who wouldn’t allow even the smallest gap to form.

How could he leave her so mentally shaken?

That playful smile crinkling his nose lingered like an afterimage.

“The future… really? The future. Are we really the kind of people who get to dream about ‘tomorrow’ together?”

Eun-cho carefully opened the door and looked into the empty room.

She had told herself again and again not to get caught up in this “marriage,” that it was just a temporary contract, that it would end in time. She tried to remind herself of that every time he swayed her.

But once she introduced him to others as “my husband,” it was no longer something light.

And the night they spent together—sticky, messy, unforgettable—left a lingering aftereffect.

She’d barely managed to hold herself together…

So why was he the one talking about a future now?

As if he’d accept anything—no matter what she wanted.

“…Does he really like me?”

There’s no way.

Her eyes scanned the neatly made bed and the orderly furnishings.

There were no traces of anyone having stayed here.
The room felt cold somehow, as if Ryu Tae-san’s very presence had been a dream.

“…This is insane.”

Maybe to him, the night they shared had just been satisfying.

But Ryu Tae-san—who invaded her mind without warning—wasn’t disappearing any time soon.

The feel of his hand on her waist, the guttural sounds he made, the sweat that trailed down their skin—all of it came flooding back at once.

Enough. That’s enough now.

Eun-cho pressed her burning cheeks with both hands.

She could still feel his breath, warm and ragged, brushing her ears.

Her belly clenched involuntarily.

“You’ve really gone downhill, haven’t you, Lee Eun-cho…?”

Her gaze shifted to the small side door—barely noticeable—between her room and Tae-san’s.

“What am I supposed to do with that now?”

The door was one thing, but the spoon hanging from the latch was another matter entirely.

She always locked it with that spoon.
It felt wrong to keep it locked like before, but removing the spoon would feel even worse.
Doing that might feel like giving a definitive answer—that she’d accept a future with him.

“Sigh… Why is everything so damn complicated?”

They had started out as weekend spouses, and now they were barely even that. Soon, they’d be monthly spouses, then quarterly, and eventually… just strangers again.

And if he ever got bored of her—if their relationship turned mundane—he might change on a whim.
He was probably just the type to grip tightly whatever he wanted to possess.

At the very least, she wanted to be the one to decide how it ended.
Even if it made her seem terribly defensive, she just didn’t want to be the one left behind.

“Haa…”

Eun-cho took the spoon in hand, brushed it lightly… and after a moment of hesitation, slid it back into the latch.

Not yet. It’s not time to unlock it just yet.

She shut down her spiraling thoughts about Tae-san and hurried to get ready for work.

It was the busiest kind of Monday.