Baek Saeon.

The eldest grandson of the late Representative Baek Jangho.

The only son of leading presidential candidate Shim Gyu-jin and Korean University Professor Shim Yoo-jin.

The man she had admired for nearly two decades, secretly loved, and even married—was not Baek Saeon?

“And… the kidnapper is the real Baek Saeon.”

A chill ran through Heeju’s entire body.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, yet everything suddenly clicked into place.

The whole world had been deceiving her.

When she heard her sister had returned, the only outcome Heeju had anticipated was a clean divorce. That was all.

“But now, a confession…”

Everything she thought she knew and believed had been overturned.

The reappearance of the real Baek Saeon, presumed dead.

Her entire world had been upended.

Even though she was still in Seoul, it took her over five hours to find her way back home. The shock had left her disoriented. Her mind was still in chaos, unable to organize a single coherent thought.

“What is this, some kind of The Prince and the Pauper scenario?”

She recalled snippets of conversations overheard at family gatherings. It was said that the late Representative Baek Jangho doted on his grandson so much that he never allowed Baek Saeon to appear in public until middle school.

None of the relatives had witnessed his growth.

If the child had been swapped during that time, no one would have known.

But her in-laws, who had lived in the same house? Had they known all along and simply gone along with the ruse?

Why?

For what reason?

Heeju sat in the dark, clutching her phone like a lifeline, her hands clasped in a prayer-like position.

“Then who is Baek Saeon? No… the man pretending to be Baek Saeon—”

“The man I loved—”

What kind of life had he lived?

The boy who couldn’t even cry freely, hiding behind walls to suppress his tears.

Thin, pale, refusing to eat, his sharp tongue cutting through any softness.

The man I loved…

“I thought I’d finally, truly reached him…”

“I thought there could be a different future for us…”

Wiping her reddened eyes, Heeju lifted her phone.

As the clock ticked past 10 p.m., her hand moved almost instinctively.

“Maybe there’s some kind of misunderstanding…”

Until she heard it from him, nothing was certain.

Trriiing, trriiing.

She would ask him. She needed to ask.

“Yes, Sagong Yuk.”

His voice, tinged with exhaustion but carrying a faint hint of familiarity, came through.

She had so many questions, but her throat felt tight and hot, her words stuck.

The suffocating intimacy, her sister’s silence, and the fact that she was demanded as a hostage—all of it weighed too heavily.

But what hurt most was her heart, unable to reach him, unable to connect. Shielding her teary eyes with her arm, she spoke.

“I heard… something unbelievable.”

Her lips trembled as she forced the words out.

“I mean, it’s shocking enough to hear that the Blue House spokesperson is a fraud—”

“…”

“But now they’re saying Baek Saeon… isn’t even Baek Saeon.”

“…”

“How does that even make sense?”

Like a child tattling, she spilled the painful truth she had heard, gasping for breath.

But the silence on the other end was deafening. It wasn’t the comfortable silence she was used to—it was suffocating, terrifying.

“Say something… please!”

Her voice rose sharply, trembling with frustration.

“This is grounds for divorce…!”

“…”

“Now I can demand a divorce, legitimately! Don’t you get that?”

Her words were laced with fury, almost shouting.

“If we divorce…”

His low, rough voice interrupted, grating like metal.

“If I divorce and go to Sagong Yuk, will you accept me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if I can come to you.”

“What are you talking about…”

Her voice faltered, disbelief etched across her face.

“…You’re saying you want to meet Sagong Yuk for real?”

“Why not?”

Her eyes twitched uncontrollably.

“You… you bastard. Your wife—Hong Heeju—”

“…”

“I knew you were two-faced, I knew how deceitful you were! But even so, Hong Heeju… Hong Heeju—”

What could she say?

That she had loved him?

That she had wanted to trust him?

That she had believed they could have a different ending?

But those words felt too fragile, too exposing. Pride, sharp as thorns, flared up instead.

“I don’t want to meet you.”

Her eyes burned as she spat out the words, determined.

“Even if you give up everything, divorce me, and come to me, I don’t want you.”

“…”

“I hate you, Baek Saeon. I hate you so much.”

“…”

“From the beginning, from the very first time I saw you, I hated you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten those awful calls over and over again.”

Suddenly, tears welled up. She didn’t know what this overwhelming heat in her chest was—anger? Resentment?

All she knew was that she wanted to scream, cry out loud. But she couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

“If only I hadn’t answered that first call… if only I hadn’t tried to understand you. I should’ve just stayed ignorant, stayed dry, even if it left me shriveled up.”

Those threatening calls had taught her so much about her husband, more than she ever wanted to know.

Yes, those conversations had changed something between them. Their relationship as husband and wife had shifted, strangely.

But now, all of it felt unbearably bitter.

Heeju moved to his bedroom. Her gaze landed on the coat draped over the chair near the bedside table.

“Do you regret what we shared?”

“…”

She wiped her tears in silence, picking up the coat.

Its scent—his scent—lingered faintly, still fresh from earlier that day.

She buried her face in it.

“Who… who even are you?”

“…”

“If you’re not Baek Saeon, then what are you?”

Her voice, barely audible, trembled as if she had dredged it up from deep inside. But still, he gave no answer—no denial, no explanation.

All she had was his coat, clutched tightly in her arms as her eyes squeezed shut.

Then, forcing herself, she asked the question that felt too terrible to voice.

“Were you there… when Baek Saeon died?”

“You’ve already figured that out, haven’t you?”

“!”

His answer—an admission—left her frozen.

“When did you start working with him?”

“Him?”

“Baek Saeon. The man who altered Sagong Yuk’s voice for him.”

“…”

Her gut told her to deny it, to fight against the wicked whispers clawing at her mind. But the stiffness in her neck and the numbness in her fingers told her otherwise.

It was true.

It was all true.

“Were you blackmailed by him?”

“No…”

“Baek Saeon is a dangerous man. If you get involved with him—”

“I said no!”

She shouted defiantly, hating how he spoke of Baek Saeon as though he were someone else.

But Baek Saeon is you…! Why do you keep saying it like that?

Her thoughts swirled in chaos, her vision swimming.

“By any means, I just wanted to… live my life the way I wanted to, even if it was messy! I didn’t do this because of blackmail—I just wanted to be free!”

Free from her family, her in-laws, Baek Saeon, and the silent life she had lived as if shackled.

Every time she answered that phone, it felt like she was peeling away one more layer of those chains.

“But you… you’re the one who—”

You’re the one who broke my resolve.

A long silence followed, heavy and suffocating.

It felt like something had ended between them.

She wiped her weary face as the day’s exhaustion weighed down on her.

“What difference would it make if I confessed to Sagong Yuk?”

His voice was sharp, restrained, yet trembling.

“To a woman who wants to be free, what could I possibly say?”

“…”

“My words could become another form of bondage.”

His voice shook with suppressed emotion.

“Or, if I earn your pity, will you finally distance yourself from Baek Saeon?”

“What are you even saying…”

“Yes, I was there when Baek Saeon died. I watched as he drowned, the clear river swallowing him—”

“Stop.”

“From start to finish, I saw everything—”

“Stop it! Just stop!”

Heeju collapsed, burying her face in her knees

. Her breaths mingled with his, rough and erratic over the phone line.

Her stomach churned. She felt she finally understood the nightmares he had told her about.

This man had always dreamt of his own reflection through the eyes of the real Baek Saeon.

“Ugh…”

Swallowing her sobs, she clutched her arms tightly, speaking with bitter resignation.

“What were you thinking… Why did you do it—”

A faint laugh came through the line.

An unsettling reaction.

“Why, you ask…”

His voice, low and broken, dragged out the words. It was devoid of any emotion, utterly desolate.