Chapter 86.1

Chapter 86.1

Seoryeong flinched the moment his warmth touched her hand, vividly recalling the bizarre things Wooshin had done with her hand before. But all he did was press against the tips of her nails, feeling them carefully.

“When I first started this job, I hated seeing blood clotted under my nails, so I trimmed them every night.”

Hearing him say things he normally never talked about, she figured it must be the alcohol.

He ran his fingers slowly over her grown-out nails, clicking his tongue.

“You’re not planning on scratching anyone again, are you? Wait a minute.”

He grabbed her by the shoulder and gently pushed her toward the sofa.

A drunk who cuts nails? She had always found his behavior unpredictable and confusing, but now this was a first.

Feeling oddly curious about this unusual side of him, she let herself be guided without protest.

After sitting her down, he strode over to the cabinet but paused awkwardly to look back at her.

“Where’s the nail clipper?”

Seoryeong chuckled and nodded her head.

“You were headed in the right direction. Second drawer.”

He resumed moving, and Seoryeong watched his back for a moment before asking,

“Looks like everyone lives the same way once they’re married.”

“…”

Without a word, he returned to the sofa and pulled her hand towards him. He slid the cold blade between her nails with ease and applied pressure. With each snap, her clipped nails fell onto his thigh like crescent-shaped debris.

The way he quietly trimmed her nails, hunched over with his broad back, reminded her of Kim Hyun.

Seoryeong knew this kind of thinking was unhealthy, but she was strangely weak when it came to small gestures of care. All it did was stir a sense of longing, pulling her in, making her feel like she was missing something, like a puddle growing deeper inside her.

Unable to bear it, she squirmed. Sometimes, being so close to him gave her an odd feeling of discomfort.

It especially happened when someone else stepped into the space where her husband once was, filling in what he used to do—it brought a sudden wave of self-doubt.

Whether Wooshin noticed or not, he suddenly grabbed her hand tightly. Their breaths mingled at the close distance, and the smell of alcohol became even stronger. Yet, his expression remained unchanged, suggesting his tolerance for alcohol was high. As he bent his head in concentration, all she could see was his furrowed brow and sharp nose.

Then, his deep voice broke the silence.

“How does Agent Han Seoryeong live alone in a place like this?”

“What do you mean, a place like this?”

“A place where time has stopped.”

“…”

Two pairs of slippers, two cups, two sets of utensils, a toothbrush that still hadn’t been thrown away, a pair of men’s shoes tucked in the corner of the shoe rack, and a room locked tight.

It seemed Wooshin was referring to the traces of Kim Hyun still lingering around the house.

“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to sell this place and move somewhere else?”

“…”

“This place is so quiet, probably because it’s empty. All I can hear is your breathing, Han Seoryeong.”

“No. This is my home.”

“…”

“This is the only place that feels like home to me.”

He stopped trimming her nails and glanced up at her with only his eyes. Despite the coldness in his gaze, she stubbornly held his stare.

Wooshin suddenly lowered his head further, rubbing his temple as if a headache was coming on. His closely cropped hair, pressed down like an unyielding wall, gave off a solid, immovable feeling.

“If you couldn’t see—”

He spoke in a voice rough with strain.

“—it might’ve been easier to love.”

“What…”

“I’m talking about your husband.”

“…!”

“But what you two had… was that really love?”

His face was half-hidden in shadows, making it hard to read his expression.

“If you were blindly clinging to someone because you couldn’t see ahead, wouldn’t that just be survival instinct?”

Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. It felt like a heavy weight settled on her side, even though nothing had hit her.

“On the surface, it might look the same, but it’s something entirely different, isn’t it?”

“….”

Something sharp lodged itself in her throat, choking her. Meanwhile, Wooshin continued to focus solely on trimming her nails.

She bit her lip, enduring the cold pain spreading through her chest. Her fingertips, where they touched his, turned cold.

“Agent Han Seoryeong, you said you wanted to live a normal life. That’s why you can’t let go. But do you know how that sounds to me?”

“Stop…”

“You hold on to your husband like he’s your only chance at normalcy in a broken life. Isn’t it easier to convince yourself that self-satisfaction is love?”

“Stop it!”

Seoryeong shouted, her voice strained with anger. She tried to pull her hand away, but he refused to let go.

Unlike her rising frustration, Wooshin remained cold and composed, his sharp gaze cutting into her unstable emotions.