Yuhan extended his hand. Of all things, it was his left hand — the one wearing the wedding ring. The ring Jinwoo had chosen sparkled as the light caught it.
Ah, there’s really no taking it back now.
That thought crossed his mind in an instant. Perhaps, deep down, he had never truly wanted this forced marriage. Maybe that unconscious feeling was only surfacing now.
But Jinwoo was an adult — at an age where even things he disliked had to be endured with eyes shut and teeth gritted. There was no other choice.
“I look forward to working with you from here on.”
It was a strangely formal thing to say. He watched the corners of Yuhan’s mouth curve gently upward, then took his hand. And together, they walked forward.
The march was met with applause. No one cheered. Everyone present understood that this was not that kind of occasion. A wedding where congratulations were offered, but not celebration. Could there be a more ironic wedding than this?
“You worked hard today.”
“You too, Yuhan. …Though there’s still a long road ahead.”
Photos still had to be taken, the bouquet thrown. They still needed to go around personally greeting every guest who had attended. The paebaek ceremony had been skipped.
Yuhan’s family, who held tradition in high regard, had been firmly opposed — but Jinwoo’s family had persuaded them to use that time for greeting guests instead. Jinwoo knew well enough that it was his family’s way of looking out for him, given that he was marrying someone he hadn’t chosen. Since Jinwoo himself couldn’t say no, his family had stepped in on his behalf.
Regardless, what was actually bothering Jinwoo more at the moment was hunger.
“Ugh, I’m starving.”
Was this what it meant for words to slip out before the brain could catch them? He had thought he’d only meant it internally — but it came out as sound, and he was caught off guard. He straightened up from the slight bow he’d been holding and glanced over to check if Yuhan had heard. All he caught was Yuhan gesturing to his secretary. Looks like he’s giving work instructions, he thought, relieved.
“Here. This is all I have on me, I’m afraid.”
A small carton of milk was placed in his hand. He turned to look, but the secretary was already walking away, back turned. Surely not…
“Put these in your pocket too.”
Pressed into his free hand were candies. Nurungji flavor and lemon flavor, at that — Jinwoo’s favorites.
“Th… thank you.”
He was bewildered. Someone who gives you food is a good person — he remembered hearing something like that once. Not that he had ever thought poorly of Yuhan to begin with, but Jinwoo found himself discovering a new side of him.
It seemed he and his younger brother — the one he was at odds with over the succession — weren’t on such terrible terms after all. The way Yuhan had just acted reminded Jinwoo exactly of how an older sibling might look after a younger one.
Come to think of it, his younger brother hadn’t attended the wedding today. Apparently he was busy running a foreign branch as its director, but no matter how busy he was, not even showing his face at his own brother’s wedding — Jinwoo couldn’t quite understand it.
“It was actually my secretary who prepared those. Said it’s so your young husband would take a liking to you.”
“Ah… I see.”
So did that make the secretary the good person, then? He was briefly confused.
Either way, he worked for Yuhan, so he couldn’t be a bad person. Jinwoo stole a glance at the secretary and accidentally made eye contact, prompting him to quickly dip his head in acknowledgment. Only after seeing the secretary return the nod did he look away.
Right before the photos were taken, he hurriedly downed the milk in one go. It was liquid, so there was no risk of it sitting wrong in his stomach — he knocked it back in a single breath, then unwrapped a candy and popped it into his mouth. Feeling the sugar kick in, he felt slightly more alive.
“What about you, Yuhan? Are you alright?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
That same gentle smile he always wore seemed, today of all days, to carry an even deeper warmth. Even if it weren’t Jinwoo standing here — if it had been anyone else struggling — Yuhan would surely have done the same. Now that they were married, telling him not to be like that with just anyone would be… overstepping.
Jinwoo simply thought, Is that so, gave a small nod, and looked out over the cluster of gathered guests. He spotted the friend who would catch the bouquet. Beside her stood her future husband. The way they looked at each other was so sweet it practically dripped honey, and Jinwoo could feel it clearly even from this distance. He had never wished for a love like that — yet today, for just a moment, he felt something like longing.
“Let’s go take photos, then.”
The candy rolled lazily around inside his mouth. The nurungji-flavored candy he hadn’t had in so long was less sweet than he remembered.
* * *
The moment he closed his eyes, he felt he could sink into sleep instantly. He hadn’t even dried his hair yet — it had taken several rounds of shampooing before it felt like his own again — but Jinwoo was past the point of caring about things like hair loss or damage.
“Are you very sleepy?”
“…Yes.”
His reply came late. His brain was processing sounds noticeably slower than usual.
Afraid that lying down on the bed would mean truly falling asleep, he forced himself to stay sitting in the chair. His hair was still dripping. If Yuhan — dressed in a robe — hadn’t come over and wrapped a dry towel around his head, he might have simply passed out as he was.
“…What are you doing?”
“You shouldn’t catch a cold.”
The hands drying someone else’s hair were quite gentle. They moved with a practiced ease, as though this wasn’t the first time. Well, he’s older, so it would be strange if he had no experience in relationships.
“Jinwoo.”
Had he dozed off without meaning to? The sound of his name jolted him back to alertness. He answered with a “Yes?” and heard a small laugh from somewhere above his head. Yuhan, acting every bit the caretaker in each little thing he did, felt more irritating today than usual.
“Your heat is coming up soon, isn’t it?”
He forced himself to smooth out the scowl that had begun to form. He couldn’t let his displeasure show so openly.
Exhausted and half-asleep, he had momentarily forgotten about that schedule. His first heat cycle since officially becoming Yuhan’s husband — it was an event everyone except himself was waiting for. And among them all, Yuhan, who had made clear he needed to secure his position, was undoubtedly the one anticipating it most. Which was exactly why he was confirming it now.
Even if omega rights had improved, the reality hadn’t changed — just as with beta women, omegas remained one of the paths through which an heir could be produced. In that biological sense, they were even unique. Born into a world where people wanted to pass their companies and wealth down not to strangers but to their own children — to ensure that fortune was carried on forever — Jinwoo had to fulfill that role.
“It would’ve been convenient if we’d timed your rut cycle as well.”
The cycle he was referring to was the rut cycle.
“Why?”
He already knew the reason, yet he feigned ignorance.
“It would raise the probability.”
The voice that answered so calmly was still soft and gentle. It seemed like he was the type who could maintain his composure and gentlemanly manner in bed, without being swept away by pheromones.
What had he been expecting? Jinwoo laughed to himself internally. Statistically, the pregnancy rate was already higher than usual even with just one party in their cycle. So there was no real need to align the other’s cycle — yet Yuhan wanted to be thorough.
He felt embarrassed for having been swayed by Yuhan’s warmth. This was just who Yuhan had always been. He had simply grown attached over time without realizing it.
“What a pity, then.”
There was no way a kind reply was coming out of him right now.
He quietly slipped his head out from under Yuhan’s hands. The implication was clear — that’s enough — and Yuhan immediately pulled away.
“I’m going to sleep first. Thank you for drying my hair.”
There was no reason to feel hurt. So whatever he was feeling right now was useless — and an insult to himself for having chosen this marriage.
This feeling had a name.
It was called disappointment.
* * *
They say some people experience overwhelming fatigue before their heat cycle hits. Fortunately for Jinwoo, he only experienced similar symptoms after the cycle — and thanks to that, today’s outing posed no trouble.
“Did you get permission from him?”
“Why would I need his permission? It’s a marriage in name only, anyway.”
The tone was blunt, but it wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t as though Jinwoo had been sold off to Yuhan — they had married for mutual benefit. So whose permission was there to ask for, and for what?
