A Taste to Spit Out - Chapter 7
The dim light spilling from the ornate chandelier scratches at my vision.
The old-fashioned floor, crafted from centuries-old towering trees, is nowhere to be found; instead, a gleaming marble expanse stretches endlessly before me.
“…..”
In contrast to the display case lined with various golden trophies and plaques of appreciation, there is even a red motorcycle parked in one corner of the living room.
This is the house in Pyeongchang-dong where I lived for nearly twenty years. It’s only been two years since I left, yet this place feels like an entirely different world.
As I blankly stare at the display case, a pale face faintly reflects back at me.
Did I really live with this face for the past two years?
With plump cheeks and a faint blush blooming on them, it’s evident that I’ve been well-fed and well-rested after spending weeks in the hospital. It’s absurd how well I seem to be doing.
“…..”
And over my shoulder, a large wedding photo hangs, as if it’s pressing down on my back with a crushing weight.
Kang Yeol-Jin and I are dressed in matching white suits. Flowers are in full bloom in the background, and somehow, both of us are smiling.
I stared blankly at the soft curve of my lips.
…Was I truly, happy?
It’s definitely me, yet I feel so unfamiliar.
It’s creepy, disgusting, I clutched my rounded belly. It feels like I’m in the middle of a hidden camera prank.
“……”
Eating, sleeping, and even breathing feels utterly meaningless. This isn’t life, nor is it death.
* * * * *
I sat in front of the dining table in a daze. A steaming bowl of galbi-jjim (braised short ribs) was placed in front of me. I raised my ghost-like eyes. A gentle face came into view, with short bobbed hair and a particularly slender neck, like that of a deer.
“Um, Yun-hye…”
Large, doe-like eyes turned toward me.
That woman was…
Kang Yeol-Jin’s fiancée. My father had arranged it. He wanted to set them up, saying she was delicate and pretty.
The fact that she couldn’t speak was actually a plus in this secretive, filthy household, which only deepened my father’s trust in her.
“A male with a female won’t run away, tsk.”
Anyway, my father was too skilled at taming livestock.
“Just let him have a wife and three kids, he’ll behave himself.”
She was far too good of a woman to marry trash like Kang Yeol-Jin for such a ridiculous reason.
“So, you’ve been working at our house this whole time?”
The woman gave a small nod. Her short hair swayed.
“Yun-hye…”
I leaned forward, lowering my head. Carefully, I let each word fall out, one by one.
“I, I apparently married that Kang Yeol-Jin. Me.”
At that, the woman blinked. It was as if her eyes were asking, “Is that a problem?”
Her expression was like someone who had just been told an obvious truth, as natural as the sun rising, water flowing, or mountains eroding. Why was I even telling her this?
I was speechless.
Doesn’t this seem strange? Does this not look odd to you in the slightest…?
“Oh, no… I’m sorry for bothering you when you’re busy.”
I buried my gaze into the lavishly set table. It was a feast—delicious meats glistening with oil, various seafood, and ripe fruits.
During those dark two years, had I been eating like this? The years when I was trapped, abused by my father, scratching the walls until my nails broke from hunger—were those times gone now?
Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to touch any of it.
It feels like I’m alive, but not really living.
The world says that you and I were in love. That it’s true, and only my memory, only I, am wrong.
As the chaos in my mind grew louder, it became noisy outside.
“Where is Hee-jae?”
Ah, Kang Yeol-Jin had arrived.
I could feel his presence looming just beyond the wall. Anxiety welled up inside me. Kang Yeol-Jin had always meant that to me—trouble followed whenever he came near.
As his prominent nose grew closer, rising higher, I tumbled off my chair in a panic. I lay sprawled on the floor like a slug, looking up at him in pitiful fear.
“D-Don’t come near me…!”
I tried to push myself away, planting my palms on the floor to crawl back.
“Are you alright?”
Of course, he ignored my pleas and came closer. His nose pressed against the back of my neck, sending shivers all over me. I could smell the damp scent of pheromones radiating from him.
Like when someone is hanged, I offered up my body in helpless surrender. It felt as though fangs were grazing my neck, and the shivers running through me wouldn’t stop.
