When spring comes, certain things change first. The warmer breeze, for example, or the brilliant flowers blooming fresh across the green garden. Open a window, and the air carries the scent of spring; on the way to work, people’s clothes become a layer thinner.

Since Kwon Yido and I married in early spring, the air had still been cold until just recently. I’d caught a cold from being out in the rain, which showed how much the season still lingered. Soon enough, summer would arrive in the blink of an eye, and the greenery would thicken.

In any case, a month and a half. Life with him had become familiar. To be precise, I no longer felt uncomfortable with the new house or the sudden presence of a meal companion.

The only thing I hadn’t adapted to was the subtle change in his attitude.

“Let’s go back.”

From the day after we returned from the Han River, Yido had been a little different. Hard to define, but his gaze toward me wasn’t the same as before. Where once it had been cutting and cold, now it felt at least like the calm of a windless day.

I noticed it first at breakfast. We were eating as usual when, after finishing his meal, he rose.

“I’ll be leaving first.”

You might ask what was strange about that, but for me, it was a surprise. He had never once excused himself before. Strictly speaking, it was still a kind of notice rather than a request, but compared to the times when he ignored even my greetings, it stood out.

What change of mind had occurred? At the time, that was all I wondered. The true strangeness became clear only a few days later.

“You can use the bathtub whenever you want.”

“...Pardon?”

He said it casually over breakfast. The subject was abrupt, and I even thought it strangely considerate of him. Of course, it would have been better if I hadn’t heard the next part.

“Just don’t catch another useless cold.”

...Was this supposed to count as kindness? Hard to say. Still, it was certainly better than when I’d first moved in. At least he no longer looked at me like vermin, which gave me a bit of room to breathe.

Yet the change in attitude wasn’t entirely welcome. Facing him made my chest sting, like thorns lodged beneath the skin. When I saw him less often, it was bearable, but as the days passed, it grew more burdensome.

“Ah, Director, you’re out.”

It was a weekend afternoon, when I was walking alone in the garden. I usually stayed in my room, but the weather was good, so I thought I’d get some air. The gardener, busy with the flowerbeds, greeted me warmly.

“Out for a walk?”

The gardener was a man with a pleasant face, tanned skin, and a sturdy build. He seemed about fifty, always wearing earth-stained gloves and a worn apron.

“Yes, I wanted to see the flowers since so many have bloomed.”

I replied with a smile, and he, too, broke into a bright grin. I’d learned over time that he took great pride in his work. Whenever I praised the well-kept garden, his satisfaction was plain to see.

“Ah, shall I give you some flowers for your room?”

Before I could answer, he crouched and began cutting roses and peonies, trimming the thorns carefully to form a bundle. I hadn’t planned on picking blooming flowers, but I didn’t want him to feel awkward, so I simply watched in silence.

“Ah, there’s too many. Here—only the prettiest ones that suit you, Director.”

The vivid reds and pinks were beautiful. Their fragrance softened my mood. Just holding them in my hands loosened the tension in my expression.

“Thank you. I’ll ask for a vase.”

How long would they last in water? Lowering my gaze, I inhaled the scent. A few days of their sweetness in my room would be pleasant.

After chatting idly with the gardener, I thanked him again and returned to the house. The flowers’ fragrance followed me, and my mood lightened with each step. So this is why people like bouquets. That thought crossed my mind as I climbed the stairs.

“....”

Like before, Yido was standing on the second floor. Perfectly dressed in his flawless suit. He shouldn’t have been home yet. Surprised, I blurted the question.

“When did you get in?”

His eyes fixed on my face. His lips moved. “Just now.” Then, lowering his gaze slowly, he looked at the bouquet in my hands.

“Uh... would you like some?”

I reflexively split the bouquet in half and held it out. When he frowned instead of taking it, I added awkwardly:

“As a gift.”

“...A gift?”

Ah. Wrong choice of words.

“Well, since it came from your garden, it’s not exactly a gift...”

After all, the flowers were technically his. It felt like I was showing off with someone else’s property. I turned my eyes aside, then forced a casual smile.

“They’re pretty.”

“....”

For a long moment, he stared at my face. He neither accepted nor refused the flowers. Was that offensive somehow? Just as I began to worry, he reached out his hand.

“Who gave them to you?”

The flowers looked even more radiant the moment they passed into his hand. He looks good holding anything. With that thought, I answered:

“The gardener gave them to me.”

“You get along well with the staff.”

Oddly, his expression seemed displeased as he said it. I worried he might take it out on the gardener, but fortunately he changed the subject.

“You like flowers?”

“Yes, well... I do.”

I liked them in a normal way. Their fragrance always carried warmth. Once, I’d dreamed of becoming a perfumer—so their scents held special allure.

“No wonder...”

He muttered something under his breath, just audible. I thought I caught the word pheromones, but his voice was too low to be sure. Holding a rose in his left hand, he twirled its stem as he spoke.

“The Seonho Group’s founding ceremony will be held soon.”

Now that he mentioned it, there was always news of it around this time each year. I’d never attended, but Father had gone a few times. This year, I’d likely be expected to attend as his partner.

“I’ll prepare your clothes. Just keep your schedule clear.”

On his left hand gleamed the wedding ring matching mine. At the ceremony, we’d play the role of a loving couple before everyone. I’d smile brightly, and Yido would endure people’s flattery—just like at the wedding.

“Yes, I’ll remember.”

The thought of facing Father made my chest tighten again. The flowers’ fragrance, sweet before, now muddled my head.

“Well then, I’ll...”

I excused myself and walked toward the third floor. Yido didn’t stop me—only watched my back. His gaze pressed against me, pricking my conscience.

***

The founding ceremony was set for the Libra Hall at Myeongseong Hotel. On the day itself, I stopped first at a salon Yido had arranged, to prepare clothes and hair. We rode together to the hotel, and as soon as we arrived, I had to take his arm naturally.

Inside the wide hall, my seat was of course beside Yido. His family sat nearby, but none of them spared me a glance. Only one—Kwon Ijeong—smirked, throwing suggestive glances my way.

“No wonder they’re all so striking...”

Someone muttered nearby. Indeed, standing among them, I felt out of place. Their wealth and status were matched by their outward appearance. As we entered, eyes turned toward us, filled with awe and desire.

The program proceeded as planned, with Vice President Kwon Sangmi apologizing for Chairman Kwon Byung-wook’s absence. Yido’s phone call flashed in my mind, but I kept my expression neutral, as though I knew nothing.

“Well, isn’t this a long time, Executive Director Kwon.”

When I faced Father, he looked healthier than ever. Even as he extended his hand to Yido, there was none of the old obsequiousness. Shoulders straight, he smiled smoothly.

“You must be busy in the honeymoon period, but do ease up on work sometimes. If you neglect your marital life, how do you think this father’s heart would feel?”

He had always been shameless. Perhaps it was arrogant of me even to think so. And perhaps the truly shameless one was me—smiling beside Yido as though I knew nothing.

“Well... I sent him ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) back to the family home to rest, but he returned after just one day.”

Yido spoke slowly, his gaze shifting among Father, Mother, and Seoyoung. Even I felt the weight of his eyes, and all three froze. Finally, his cold gaze landed on Minjae, standing silently behind them.

“Whether the marital life is neglected or not, that son of yours should know best.”

“....”

Minjae’s face flushed crimson. Clenching his fists, he bowed his head. After a long moment, he suddenly turned and walked out without a word.

“...Ha, ha, the boy did say he wasn’t feeling well today.”

Father made excuses, fumbling about stomachaches and nausea. Clichéd lies. Both Yido and I knew perfectly well why Minjae had left.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon, Executive Director.”

With that, Father ended the conversation. I thought I felt his eyes flick toward me. Yido seemed to dismiss it as bluff, but for me, it was a suffocating warning.

It felt like the inevitable result had crept closer. The guilt I’d barely suppressed now crawled up to seize my ankles. If I kept pretending not to know, one day I would stumble badly.

After that, I couldn’t recall how I managed to make the rounds. My stomach churned so violently that I thought I’d vomit at any moment. But even in that state, fulfilling my role wasn’t difficult.

When I came to my senses, it was all over, and we were on the way home. Watching the scenery blur past, I realized I’d been silent for a long time. Startled, I turned my head, only to meet Yido’s gaze.

“....”

“....”

Suddenly, the emotions I’d been holding back surged up. Self-disgust, indistinguishable from nausea. I hunched forward, hand covering my mouth. Yido spoke into the intercom.

“Stop the car.”

The car pulled over. I wanted to say I was fine, but if I relaxed, something would spill out. Whether it would be tears or bile, I couldn’t say.

“...Ugh.”

It felt like the weight in my stomach was sinking, dragging me under. No refuge, no escape—only standing there, waiting for the inevitable submersion. I wanted to call for rescue, but I knew no answer would come.

“Are you carsick?”

“....”

I shook my head. If his voice sounded worried, it was only because I was too out of it. I swallowed hard, pressed my face into my hands, and spoke.

“...I’m sorry.”

“That apology...”

His voice was low. In the stopped car, his presence felt overwhelming—his pheromones, his voice, too vivid.

“...is it a habit? You apologize even when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He wasn’t wrong. But this time, I had done wrong. And soon enough, he would learn the truth. For now, though, he spoke firmly, unaware.

“Stop it. It’s a bad habit.”

The words clenched my throat. Pain shot through my chest, as though someone gripped my heart. It felt like being beaten down, like when his pheromones once crashed over me.

If I could, I would rewind time and erase everything. But I couldn’t. Everything would proceed as fated. No matter how I struggled, nothing would change. I had neither the courage nor the authority.

“...You can drive on.”

I forced myself upright and spoke. I couldn’t bear to look at him, so I covered my mouth with my hand and gazed out the window.

He watched me for a moment, then said quietly:

“If you’re unwell, go to a hospital.”

“...No.”

“...”

“I’m fine now. ...Sorry.”

He clicked his tongue once but said no more. The car started moving again. I swallowed all the words that rose up, and kept my lips sealed.

***

Even knowing a moment’s choice had ruined my future, undoing it was near impossible. I couldn’t change the past—only the present. Yet chances for that were rare. Keep averting your eyes, and one day you’ll find yourself sunk to the neck in a swamp with no way out.

Should I tell Yido the truth?

I must have asked myself that a hundred times. The company was too quiet, and Father had forced me on extended leave, making it worse. He said I looked unwell and should rest at home. Of course, I had no choice in the matter.

Dozens, hundreds of times a day, I weighed the scale. Stay inside the fragile fence, or protect my deceitful conscience? I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t let go of the affection I’d craved all my life.

I didn’t want to be abandoned. In the end, all my thoughts circled back there. I’d preserved this shelter all along—how could I destroy it with my own hands?

While I lived quietly that way, Yido’s niece, Kwon Hye-yul, came to visit. The little girl with long braids wore beige overalls and an oversized T-shirt. At first she was shy, but looking at Yido’s art collection together quickly broke her reserve.

Yido came home from work as I was walking with her through the garden. I was pointing out the flowers when she asked how I knew such things. I was about to say I’d read it in a book when—

“Oppa?”

A soft laugh sounded. I turned to see Yido smiling gently. He lifted Hye-yul into his arms with ease.

“You shouldn’t call him oppa, Hye-yul.”

“....”

The setting sun washed over his face. It slid across his smooth forehead, pooling in the depths of his dark eyes. The way he smiled softly, brushed her hair back, whispered kindly—

“Were you having fun?”

Sometimes, people fall in love for the smallest reasons. A sudden, indelible moment in ordinary life. For me, it was no more than a smile.

No—perhaps I shouldn’t call it love. It was a look he’d never once given me. An expression of affection I’d never received in my life. I only thought, I want that too.