The beginning needs one stamp.
The end needs one stamp.
It’s neither empty nor sad.
It’s just that the paper feels wasted.
◆
Omega and Alpha — two of Korea’s largest conglomerates.
If they joined hands, it would bring great benefit.
So there was only one answer.
To form a bond between families.
To make a contract under the name of marriage.
“Executive Director.”
When I stepped out of the courthouse, desolate raindrops began to fall.
Why did the rain feel heavier than usual today?
Jaekyung reached out to catch the drops, but they slipped through his fingers and fell to the ground.
Just then, a man holding a black umbrella hurried over, politely greeted the man standing beside Jaekyung like a shadow, and handed him the umbrella.
As if he had been waiting, the man took it, walked with steady, composed steps through the puddles, and got into a black sedan.
It was so absurd that Jaekyung couldn’t even laugh.
Even if theirs was just a show-window marriage, they had been a couple for five years — and today was the day they ended that life.
Yet he didn’t even say goodbye.
He didn’t look back, not even a nod.
Should Jaekyung at least be grateful he came in person and not through a lawyer?
No, a lawyer probably couldn’t come anyway.
Across the street, several reporters were visible, cameras in hand.
Their marriage had once turned the nation upside down, but their divorce caused little noise beyond a dip in stock prices.
Only a few gossip or business outlets seemed mildly interested.
He must have come today just for those reporters.
He needed the title — “They parted beautifully.”
That way, he could protect the company’s stock defense line.
Ha… he’s that kind of man to the very end.
A selfish man who only thinks about his own gain and his company.
Someone who never accepted anyone not of his own blood as family.
“It’s over.”
Jaekyung muttered softly.
His days as a shadow, a puppet, a mute — all over.
Now, he was free.
He looked up at the sky.
He had always lived under others’ eyes — unable to dress or style his hair as he pleased.
So today, to commemorate his divorce, he decided to break free, just once.
With resolve, Jaekyung clenched his fist and dashed through the pouring rain.
His whole body grew unpleasantly soaked, but he didn’t mind.
Today was a day worth getting wet for.
◆
[Where are you…?]
Just as he reached the entrance of his officetel, drenched like a wet mouse, his phone rang.
The caller — his mother.
Jaekyung hesitated for a long time, debating whether to answer.
But he could already picture her worrying endlessly if he didn’t.
With a sigh, he pressed the answer button.
As expected, his mother’s voice was heavy with sadness.
“I’m at the officetel, Mother.”
[You didn’t come home….]
“Father….”
Jaekyung couldn’t continue, and his mother fell silent too.
The day he announced the divorce, his father flew into a rage, swinging a golf club like in a drama, threatening to cut ties if Jaekyung went through with it.
That threat didn’t scare him.
What was scarier was living as Han Taeseok’s partner for decades more.
If he had continued for even a year or two longer, he felt he might actually die.
He didn’t want to die.
So he chose to sever family ties — and divorce.
As a result, he was banned from his family home.
His mother had begged him to kneel and apologize to his father, but he knew it would be useless.
He had no intention of doing so.
“I’m sorry.”
[…Can you send me your address? I’ll visit sometime.]
“Oh, no, not yet, Mother. I haven’t unpacked my things. I’ll let you know when I do.”
[…You must. Promise me, okay? And call if you’re struggling.]
“Yes, don’t worry.”
After much reassurance, he finally hung up.
As soon as he entered the small apartment, Jaekyung smiled in satisfaction.
It was the first home he had found on his own — a tiny studio near a university, leased for 80 million won.
Before marriage, he had saved some money from a few years of work, and he also had stocks in his own name.
He even received assets from the divorce.
He could easily buy a luxury apartment in Gangnam worth billions — but he didn’t want to splurge.
From now on, he needed to plan his life carefully, and that meant saving.
Unfortunately, in this society, having money made about 80% of life easier.
The small room wasn’t bad for one person.
Storage was the only issue — he had to throw out half his belongings.
Luckily, he wasn’t into fashion, so tidying up didn’t take long.
Still, the process felt strange.
Each outfit — carefully chosen not by him but for him, to look good to others.
At the department store lounge, dozens of suits would be lined up.
He’d inspect each one and hand over what looked “presentable” to Jaekyung without even asking for his opinion.
His gaze was a command: Wear this.
And Jaekyung would bow politely and thank him, putting it on like a well-trained machine.
Of course, those clothes fit him perfectly — tailored to his tone, shape, and image.
But the problem was the wearer’s heart.
Jaekyung never thought those clothes suited him.
So they were the first things he got rid of.
After a week of steady work, the place finally looked like a home.
Satisfied, he stripped off his wet clothes, soaked in warm water, raised his body temperature, changed into pajamas, and lay down staring at the ceiling.
Strangely, no thoughts came.
He wasn’t upset or sad.
Just calm.
He rolled around on the narrow single bed and glanced at his phone.
As expected, no messages.
Now that he was no longer the eldest son of Jaewang Group or the partner of NI Company’s executive director, no one needed him.
He realized that only at thirty-three.
Since marriage, he had lost touch with his two remaining friends.
The thought made him feel as if he’d been dropped into another world.
But that was fine.
He could start again.
If he worked hard, building a new life from scratch, he would surely find happiness.
He installed a job-search app, browsed through listings, and bookmarked a few he liked.
He’d contact them tomorrow.
Placing the phone aside, he turned off the lights.
Outside the small window, the night sky looked pitch-black — almost heartless.
Just like someone he knew.
“He’s probably working overtime again….”
He’d always say he had to make up for any personal time spent.
Thinking of that, Jaekyung shook his head.
So habits really do die hard.
No — not habits.
How could it be habit when he had never once ironed that man’s shirt, nor cooked a meal for him?
He must be doing well.
He’d soon meet someone new — an omega suited to his world, build a dreamlike home.
Jaekyung pulled the blanket over his head.
No more thinking about someone who no longer mattered.
Just sleep.