To Me, Who Doesn’t Love You

Suhan couldn’t remember anything about the situation. He had no idea where the place was, and just from the photo, it was hard to conclude that he was in an inappropriate relationship with the man in the picture. Plus, it was clear from his expression that he wasn’t pleased with the other person’s one-sided physical contact, making it seem far from a romantic relationship. However, the intent behind sending the photo from a strange number in the middle of the night was obvious enough to make him uneasy.

Suhan immediately recognized the man in the photo. Although they had barely interacted, they had met before. Were there other photos too? With no memory of the event, Suhan couldn’t even trust himself. He wanted to ask what on earth he had been thinking, but there was no one to answer. Suhan quickly turned off his phone’s screen and flipped it over on the table, not wanting anyone else to see. He was overwhelmed, trying to figure out who would send him such a threatening message. There were too many possible suspects to pinpoint anyone.

The most likely culprits were his family, but it could also be Im Cheolmin or perhaps one of the restaurant owners or a contestant Suhan had verbally humiliated and crushed. As Suhan spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep just before dawn. When he woke up after barely three hours, it was finally time for customer service to open.

“So… does this mean there’s nothing that can be done right now?”

After quickly calling the main telecom customer service, Suhan was left unsatisfied with the response. Since it wasn’t an actual threat or extortion message, and they had only sent a photo, there was no way to track down the sender. They explained that only if Suhan officially requested an investigation from the police and a warrant was issued could the sender be identified. However, since the photo wasn’t obscene or involving inappropriate nudity, that too would be difficult.

In the end, they told him there was nothing they could do about a simple photo of two men sitting at a table, drinking.

That would only make Suhan more nervous. How could he close his eyes and ears when he didn’t know what might come next? Shaking his head, Suhan ended the call.

“Ah… I see. Thank you.”

With bleary eyes, Suhan hung up. Even though it was midday, the sky outside the living room window looked gloomy. Whoever sent the photo was clearly sending a message: stay quiet and don’t get involved, just like when Suhan had been lying low, focusing on rehab and volunteering at the library. It was peaceful when he wasn’t engaging in any public activities. But unfortunately for whoever was trying to intimidate him, Suhan was the type to become more defiant the more someone tried to push him down. He had no intention of giving in to the threats.

Later that evening, shortly after Yeonseo returned home, Suhan received two more photos. They were taken from a similar angle as the previous one. In the new photos, the hand that had been resting on Suhan’s shoulder was now lower, near his waist. Was this a warning that more explicit photos would be released if he didn’t stop? When Suhan discreetly checked his phone screen, his fingers grew cold, freezing like ice. He couldn’t let Yeonseo see this.

He quickly turned off the screen, but Yeonseo, noticing Suhan’s uneasy expression, tilted his head in curiosity.

“…Is something not to your taste?”

How could he tell Yeonseo he was receiving strange photos without revealing the situation? Suhan unconsciously pressed his lips together and forced a bitter smile.

“Uh? No, it’s nothing. Just some spam message. The wording was a bit unpleasant. I think it’s an old number someone used before.”

At Suhan’s nonchalant shrug, Yeonseo nodded without asking further. Usually, Suhan would share any problems with him immediately, believing that two heads were better than one. But this time, Suhan had no choice but to keep it to himself. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think anything inappropriate had happened with Chef Im, but recalling what was said in the bathroom made him uneasy. It might have been just a strong comment, but the way it was phrased suggested they had at least been intimate, even if not romantically involved.

It wasn’t as though Yeonseo had acted betrayed when Suhan mentioned being invited by Chef Im, but there had been an awkward reaction that Suhan couldn’t entirely brush off.

The most frustrating part was not being able to confidently say that nothing had happened. He didn’t know what kind of photo might come next, so making any rash moves seemed dangerous.

Lost in frustrating thoughts, Suhan momentarily put down his spoon and stared blankly at his plate. Yeonseo, noticing this, gently lifted his hand and brought it close to Suhan’s forehead.

Due to the pregnancy, Suhan’s body temperature had recently been higher than usual. He’d often feel a bit flushed, even when doing nothing, but since this was a common change that other pregnant people experienced, Suhan didn’t think much of it and shook his head.

“Hmm? No, it’s not that…”

If you’re going to hide something, you should erase all traces from the start. Suhan clicked his tongue in frustration and stood up.

“I’ve finished eating, so I’ll do the dishes. It’s better to move a bit for digestion.”

“Ah—”

Before Yeonseo could stop him, Suhan confidently grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and stood in front of the sink. The moment he turned on the faucet, though, the gushing water brought an odd, fishy smell that he had never noticed before, and it made him gag.

“Just sit on the sofa! I’ll do it!”

Yeonseo, who had been watching Suhan with a concerned look, quickly turned off the faucet, took the rubber gloves from him, and gently pushed him away. Only then did Suhan give up on doing the dishes and sit on the sofa. He was frustrated by how his lack of sleep had affected his condition so visibly. The fact that his body wasn’t under his full control was particularly irritating.

He could already predict how Yeonseo would react if Suhan said he planned to visit the villa alone. Yeonseo would insist on driving him there and back, even if it meant overexerting himself. And to go to the villa like that, Suhan would have to explain why he wanted to go.

Even though Suhan believed that many issues in relationships—whether romantic, marital, or friendly—stem from a lack of communication, he didn’t want to share this with Yeonseo yet. It wasn’t just a matter of pride. He still couldn’t be certain Jo Junho was the real culprit, and he worried that if he told Yeonseo too early, Yeonseo might react impulsively, which was a whole other concern.

Even though Suhan had repeatedly said that there was no need for such overprotection, Yeonseo still seemed to view him as fragile, like a five-year-old child walking too close to the water’s edge. Suhan doubted this would change until he fully regained his memories.

For now, maybe he should wait and see how things unfolded with the mysterious number. With a soft sigh, Suhan closed his heavy eyelids.

Perhaps the person behind all this had sensed Suhan’s lack of response and felt uneasy. On his way back from an afternoon walk, hoping to get some fresh air, Suhan absentmindedly checked the mailbox and almost froze in shock. Inside was a photograph printed in poor quality. It was unclear when it had been taken, or even what season it was, but it appeared to show Suhan—at least based on the body shape and circumstances—being carried by someone into the entrance of a building.

There was no sign showing the name of the building, but the front desk visible inside looked unmistakably like the entrance of a hotel.

“This is driving me crazy…”

Even while standing still, his head throbbed. Not knowing who the culprit was or what else they had on him, Suhan realized he had to be more cunning than the culprit to track them down. Did they really think he’d cower in fear and hide? The thought of being meekly blackmailed was so repugnant that Suhan’s resolve burned hotter. He had no interest in quietly enduring threats, so after letting out a short sigh, he immediately dialed a familiar number.

“Yes, hello, PD. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a favor to ask. Oh, it’s nothing difficult.”

After the call ended on a pleasant note, Suhan pressed his fingers to his temples, suppressing a sigh. His head was throbbing, even when he did nothing. But he didn’t have time to sit idly; he had to keep moving.

* * *

“Hah…”

After hours of continuous phone calls, Suhan collapsed on the sofa, holding his forehead. Had he ever spoken this much since being discharged from the hospital? He certainly hadn’t even while hospitalized.

His throat was so overworked that no amount of water could stop his voice from cracking. Checking the mirror, he noticed that his face was burning up, flushed red from the heat. Just a little overexertion and the signs showed immediately. Feeling annoyed with how weak his body had become, Suhan wrapped his hand around his belly and muttered softly.

“I wasn’t mad at you.”

He had a vague idea of what was going on, but the answer was still clouded in uncertainty. Just because clues about the culprit had surfaced didn’t mean Suhan’s past actions disappeared. Based on the uniform color in the printed photo and the style of the desk, Suhan painstakingly researched famous hotels across the country and finally figured out that it was an old building of a luxury hotel in Yeouido, remodeled about two years ago. So, whether something happened or not in the photo, at least it wasn’t an affair.

But now wasn’t the time to feel relieved. Suhan found it ridiculous that he was even thinking this and let out a short laugh. Legally and psychologically, it was still an important point. Even though it’s said that ignorance of a spouse’s past is bliss, this wasn’t the Joseon Dynasty, and having had a relationship before marriage wasn’t a fatal flaw. But an affair? That was a different story. In a country like Korea, a scandal could ruin someone’s reputation and potentially cost them their job, especially if they were an executive in a contract-based role, like Suhan.

And if the person involved was a member of a rival company, no matter how much Yeonseo tried to cover for him, it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Suhan instinctively assumed that Yeonseo would be on his side if things went south. He wasn’t even consciously aware of this thought, but it made him feel terrible about himself. Clicking his tongue, Suhan stretched his arms toward the ceiling as he took his eyes off the tablet he’d been staring at for hours.

On the tablet’s screen, alongside the stylus lying on the table, were notes hastily scribbled during his recent phone calls.

: Judge on 

 Season 1 – in charge of the Korean food section – didn’t seem particularly close but had frequent professional interactions.

 <- Said they hadn’t been in contact for the past three years.

: Judge on 

 Season 2 – in charge of Western food section – Senior-Junior relationship with Chef Im.

 <- Helped with promotions when Chef Im opened his restaurant.

: In charge of PPL for 

 Seasons 1 and 2.

 <- Currently working at ○○ Group.

Suhan spent a lot of energy making these calls, obtaining contacts that Jo PD had reluctantly provided while half-jokingly complaining about always being assigned these spy-like tasks. Fortunately, Suhan had managed to gather some useful information. Most people thought, as Suhan had publicly announced, that he had grown closer to his husband while rehabilitating after his car accident, and that they had conceived a child, making it difficult for him to work for a while.

Most of the people Suhan contacted seemed slightly awkward, but there were always a few who, regardless of how cold Suhan might have been before, didn’t care and just kept going in their own style. One person even spent 15 minutes congratulating him on the pregnancy.

It wasn’t exactly the time for idle chit-chat. Normally, Suhan would have responded politely and steered the conversation away, but it was hard to cut her off when so few people had actually shown genuine support for him as a pregnant person. As a result, he unintentionally wasted several more minutes, but finally got the information he needed.

Even with his lost memories, Suhan quickly learned one thing while making calls: the culinary world was small. If you broadened it to include regular restaurants and cafes, the landscape was vast, but the fine dining world was a tiny pond.

There weren’t many domestic programs to follow the culinary path in Korea, and it was the same overseas. If you wanted to study and train, you’d go to France or Italy, and even there, the schools were limited. Everyone knew each other through one connection or another, especially within language programs, so it was safe to assume that most were acquainted in some way.

And in Korea, if you were in a corporate position, appeared on TV, or opened a restaurant as an owner-chef, even the smallest rumors would spread like wildfire through both employees and acquaintances.

As the conversation wrapped up, Suhan realized that his calls were bound to leak somewhere. At least he had disguised the inquiries as casual pregnancy updates, so they wouldn’t seem too suspicious.

‘But how Jo Juno would react to the news is another story.’

Tapping the tablet screen with his fingers, Suhan replayed the conversation in his mind. Chef Im’s restaurant had started faltering even before its first quarter had ended. Struggling with operations, Chef Im had cut down staff and was now seeking investors to rebrand the restaurant through either reopening or remodeling. And during that process…

Jo Juno had approached Chef Im. There was no way that was just a casual visit. Another contact had told Suhan that Chef Im’s staff had dropped from twelve to six, and yet another had mentioned that the restaurant was closing for a month to redo its interior.

The reason why someone who had to cut half of their staff due to financial struggles could suddenly afford to undertake an expensive interior renovation in just a few weeks was as clear as looking through water. It seemed like they had made some desperate attempt to track down this lead.

Simply having a director from a rival company visit a restaurant wasn’t a problem. Suhan himself had visited early on with Yeonseo. But if evidence emerged that a partner from a rival company provided financial support with unsavory motives, that would not be something easily brushed aside, even more so than an affair.

Now all that remained was to find evidence of how the connection between the two was established. But how was Suhan supposed to do that? His head started throbbing again, but then a certain face popped into his mind. Someone who had knelt before him, pale and trembling, crying….

‘I’m so sorry. Really, I— I don’t know how to apologize… I’m so sorry….’

Perhaps this might turn out easier than expected. Suhan thought he deserved at least five gold stars for how generously he had handled the situation back then, even comforting the employee who seemed so shocked and worried.

However, things did not go as smoothly as Suhan had expected.

“Yes, yes, oh, I see. Okay~.”

Worried that his number might have been blacklisted, Suhan asked a coworker from the library to call the restaurant. The response came back: the employee Suhan remembered had resigned just last month.

“They said that person quit last month? Do you really need to contact them?”

Suhan gave a casual smile to the middle-aged coworker, who had made the call without knowing what it was about.

“Well… it’s not that important, so it’s fine. I asked you because I thought it might be too much if I called myself.”

Even though the request was somewhat suspicious, the excuse that Suhan was a well-known public figure made it sound plausible.

That aside, who could Suhan ask for specific information about the internal issues at Chef Im’s restaurant? He was once again at a dead end, and the headache was creeping in. Should he try an interior contractor? Or maybe the building manager? Neither option seemed easy, and Suhan felt stumped, but at least there was one small relief.

“What’s this?”

Just as he was about to step outside to run some errands, Suhan was taken aback by the mountain of boxes piled up at his front door. The boxes were quite large but light, suggesting they weren’t heavy appliances or furniture. He brought them inside, one by one, thinking it would help get some movement in. Just then, a text from Yeonseo arrived.

Looks like he received a delivery notification. Unfortunately, Suhan had already taken care of bringing them all inside.

Feeling triumphant, Suhan snapped a picture of the tower of boxes in the living room and sent it to Yeonseo, as if showing off. Yeonseo immediately called, making Suhan chuckle as he answered.

“It’s fine. None of them weigh more than 20kg each, so they’re light.”

Suhan’s nonchalant reply made Yeonseo instantly cringe. Even though he couldn’t see him, Suhan could vividly picture Yeonseo’s delicate, beautiful face looking worried, and it made Suhan smile.

Suhan’s curiosity flared. What on earth had Yeonseo ordered that he was begging not to touch or organize it?

“What is it? Did you secretly buy something I wouldn’t like?”

He wasn’t some irresponsible husband buying ridiculous hobby items that would inevitably lead to a marital spat, like in those online communities. Considering they were financially well off, what could Yeonseo have bought that required so much secrecy? Suhan tapped the boxes, listening for any sounds inside, while Yeonseo urged him again.

What on earth could it be? Suhan briefly considered peeling the tape off and then resealing it to act like nothing happened, but he hated the idea of making Yeonseo upset. When Yeonseo sulked, he pretended to forgive quickly but secretly held grudges for a while. Besides, though it wasn’t confirmed, there seemed to be an inappropriate connection, whether an affair or just a business meeting, with a certain someone. The last thing Suhan wanted to do was make things worse and get on Yeonseo’s bad side.

“Alright. But try to come home early.”

It wasn’t something Yeonseo could control, but it was worth the effort. Suhan whined like a child, to which Yeonseo made a diplomatic reply, saying he wasn’t sure if he could finish early due to work, but he’d try. It wasn’t a solid ‘no,’ which Suhan found both endearing and charming. Not exactly how one should feel about their spouse, but still.

“Work hard. See you later.”

After ending the call, like any other loving newlywed couple, the nagging worries about the uncertain situation crept back in. So what should he do now?

While imagining what might be inside the boxes was enjoyable, trying to guess what lay hidden in the box of his lost memories was terrifying. Suhan went to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and stared at his reflection dripping in the mirror. What exactly was he trying to do? He asked his reflection, but no answer came. Then, something caught his attention, and he opened the veranda door.

“…….”

Inside the storage closet, still in the same spot as when he first found it, was a wedding photo that showed two people who seemed more like strangers than a married couple, staring blankly at him. What had he really wanted to do? Suhan had yelled at, snapped at, and even tried to comfort his former self in the photo, but in the end, all that remained was his own face, looking lonely and forlorn.

If his connection with Chef Im was truly inappropriate and undeniable evidence surfaced, what should he do? Would Yeonseo still stay with him? Probably, but… if the company’s chairman and his wife pushed for a divorce, citing damage to the company’s reputation, Suhan couldn’t be sure how the sweet, gentle Yeonseo would react.

‘Honestly, instead of just thinking about how unfair and pitiful your situation is, you should’ve spent more time building trust and goodwill with people.’

Suhan was reminded of his past again, but he realized there was no point in repeating the exercise of exhausting himself by talking about it or overthinking it. He took a deep breath. After all, worrying alone wouldn’t change anything. No matter what he did, he was still himself, and the same went for Yeonseo. Even if everyone turned their backs on and criticized that terrible person, he knew that the current version of himself would remain beside that trash, Lee Suhan.

What could he do? He had to carry on as the more mature, grown-up version of himself. With a slightly lighter heart, he returned to the living room, only to find that the sunset had begun to color the sky.

* * *

At exactly 6:45 PM, just as the clock chimed, Yeonseo entered, accompanied by the sound of the door lock button, which seemed more hurried than usual.

“Oh, you haven’t opened it yet, right?”

Even though Yeonseo must have taken the elevator, he appeared to have sprinted from the parking lot, breathing heavily as if he had just finished a race.

“Do I look like someone who would open it despite your pleas?”

Suhan intentionally lowered his tone, pretending to be annoyed, and with a playful huff, he couldn’t help but smile at how quickly Yeonseo’s expression changed to one of concern. If he teased Yeonseo too much, he would sulk again, so Suhan quickly pulled his lips into a wide smile.

“I don’t know what it is, but since you insisted it was so important for you to open it, I left it just like the picture I sent earlier.”

With that, Yeonseo hurriedly took off his shoes and dashed toward the living room, pulling out a box cutter from the drawer. Suhan thought, 

 For a moment, he couldn’t help but feel it was excessive. As the contents of a box, nearly the size of an adult male torso, spilled out…

“Hmm?”

It was a collection of dolls of various sizes, with soft pastel colors that looked safe enough for a baby to suck on without any issues.

“What’s all this?”

Suhan asked in disbelief as Yeonseo continued to open the remaining boxes. The second box was heavier and bulkier than the others. Inside, he found a sturdy yet lightweight crib and mattress made of a new material, along with a cover. Aside from its lightweight nature, what stood out was its design. The patterns flowed like waves, as if a beach had been transported directly into the room, unique and charming. After inspecting the cover’s pattern, Suhan finally noticed the dolls again.

“Huh?”

Yeonseo shyly hugged a large starfish doll, about the size of an average baby, and opened his mouth as if about to confess a secret.

“This was recommended by a colleague when they heard the baby’s nickname… I thought it would match so well.”

But the baby hadn’t even been born yet! He wasn’t even developed enough to have an ultrasound; they were talking about a being the size of a 10-won coin. Was it even reasonable to say something would match? Suhan couldn’t help but laugh at the silly eagerness of it all, finding it both adorable and absurd.