Chapter 188 - Chapter 184: Side Story - The Drinker's Regret
Amber liquid filled the rocks glass.
A single, round ice cube held the chill of the glass.
The only thing that soothes my life is this amber liquid, rich with the scent of oak.
I've enjoyed countless types of alcohol since I was young, but after I married, I rarely touched a drop unless it was a special occasion. I've missed this taste so much.
As I swirled the glass, I watched the ice cube roll slowly.
The ice couldn't escape the glass; it would eventually melt away.
The thought struck me: my own life was wearing down, dissolving into this strong liquid.
Just like me.
To forget the old memories I missed even more than the taste of the whiskey, I was trying to soothe the pain with another glass tonight.
As the intoxication set in, I found myself reflecting on my mistakes and those nostalgic days.
Sitting alone in the living room of my empty house, I thought back to the time when I wasn't faithful to my family.
Even as a newlywed, I rarely had a reason to come home.
Even though I was pregnant, the time I spent at home after taking leave didn't even add up to a single month.
As the Hwaryong Guild's business expanded, my workload just kept growing.
That was when my husband started treating me coldly.
My schedule was so tight that I returned to the company just one week after giving birth, and I'd been drifting further away from my family ever since Yu-rin was young.
I believed my family would understand.
I firmly believed I was working so we could live better and be happier.
I was wrong.
My husband had grown so sick of me that he wouldn't even speak, and to make matters worse, when I finally returned home after a month, a very young Yu-rin didn't even recognize my face.
From then on, I tried to pay at least a little attention to them.
No matter how busy I was, I promised myself I'd at least be home on weekends.
That was how time slowly passed.
Why was that?
Back then, I thought I was doing a good job.
I thought I was at least a wife who took care of her family.
However, my husband didn't seem pleased.
Yu-rin also seemed to have lost interest in me by the time she entered school.
Even though we were family, I just endured, thinking the coldness was simply because they didn't understand the work I did.
In a life where stress was mounting, there was one person who saved my heart.
That was Seon-ah.
Unlike Yu-rin, who was cold, Seon-ah approached me with more affection than my own child.
That's why I invited Seon-ah's family to my house every weekend—just to see his warm demeanor.
Eventually, they started coming over almost every weekend.
It felt like he was more my child than Yu-rin was.
Yu-rin didn't seem jealous of Seon-ah, either.
Because Yu-rin seemed to like Seon-ah.
Besides, my husband wanted a son more than a blunt daughter.
That was how Seon-ah became such a precious existence to our family.
However, the happy times didn't last long.
Everything started the day before Seon-ah and Yu-rin were supposed to have their wedding.
And a month later, a shocking fact was revealed.
Dozens of videos were discovered of my daughter, Yu-rin, treating Seon-ah like a sex slave.
It was a nightmare.
A truly terrible nightmare...
After recalling that horrific memory, my mouth felt bitter.
I downed the remaining whiskey in one gulp, gathered my things, and got ready to go out.
To see my new drinking buddy, I rinsed that terrible memory away with more whiskey and tried to erase it from my mind.
.
.
.
There was a bar I used to visit occasionally after work before I was married.
When I checked a month ago, the place was still there.
The foreign friend I met while sipping Royal Salute was someone with a similar personality, someone I could actually talk to.
I was surprised when I first saw her face.
The brown skin and blonde hair looked similar to a certain foreigner I knew.
But since most foreigners look similar, it was clearly just my mistake.
I approached the entrance of the bar.
When I opened the door to the basement bar, I could see the interior.
Unlike modern bars, this one was narrow, with only a bar top and a few tables.
However, the high-end dark wood of the tables and chairs, combined with the black cabinets behind the bar, made the atmosphere incredibly comfortable for a drinker.
Scanning the room, I saw a familiar head of hair.
Upon spotting that blonde hair, I spoke up.
"Grace, you came early again today."
"Is that Yu-ra? You're here every time, too."
Her tone was stiff and business-like, but I'd learned it was just her habit.
Grace had a rocks glass with half the drink left in front of her, as if she'd been there a while.
She seemed to like whiskey, just like me.
However, she liked to experiment, so she ordered something different every time.
"It's Maker's Mark today. A whiskey sealed with red wax... I know it well since I drink it often, too."
The sweet aroma rising from the glass was familiar.
Bourbons are often called 'feminine alcohol' because of their sweet, bitter profile.
But Maker's Mark is sought after by men, too, for that hot, sweet kick rather than a purely bitter finish.
Seeing that drink, which I used to let my husband taste every anniversary, brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Though the emotion was quickly cut short by the realization that we were divorced.
"The taste is quite sweet... It's not my usual preference, but it's not bad."
"Right? It's delicious. I should order a glass, too, if we're going to talk."
I'd already had a drink before coming, but watching my buddy enjoy her whiskey made me crave one immediately.
Besides, I wanted to introduce a fantastic taste to a friend who hadn't been drinking whiskey for very long.
She was a friend who listened to me silently even when I was being annoying, and I wanted to repay her.
With that thought, I ordered two glasses of Royal Salute 38-year-old from the master.
Placing one in front of her, I said:
"You still have room in your stomach for alcohol, right?"
"Of course. Don't women have separate stomachs for food and alcohol?"
Grace laughed.
We had a lot in common.
We were both divorced, we both had daughters, and we were both fanatical about whiskey.
Even though we'd only been meeting for a month, we'd talk until dawn, reminiscing about the past without realizing how time was flying.
It was just fun to talk while downing glass after glass.
As the conversation heated up, Grace turned to me.
She wasn't just empathizing like usual; her attitude was serious.
She always had a serious tone, but this felt different.
"Don't you have any thoughts of going to see your husband now?"
Grace had mentioned that her own husband passed away not long after they divorced.
Knowing she still regretted it, I could tell what she was trying to say.
"I don't know... ever since we divorced... he doesn't seem to want to see my face... I don't have the courage..."
"Is that so? What is your true heart? Don't you want to meet him again?"
"Of course I do... but he said he didn't even want to see me... I guess there won't be a chance now..."
Grace's words were tinged with the regret of her own experience.
I didn't want to end up like her.
Of course, my ex-husband wasn't going to die or anything.
But it was clear that if I stayed like this, reconciliation would never happen.
As I sat there, conflicted, Grace spoke again.
"Marriage is like whiskey; the first taste is sweet, but the aftertaste is bitter. Like this whiskey you ordered for me. It's obvious your husband is tired of the bitter taste."
"Wait, what does that mean?"
Is she saying my married life was bitter?
Even drinking buddies have boundaries, right?
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Just as I was about to get angry, she continued.
"Yet, people who have tasted it once will seek it out again—to neutralize that bitterness with sweetness. They're bound to drink it again, even knowing the bitterness will return. It's like an addiction."
"...."
What is she trying to say?
I looked at Grace, who was speaking in riddles, and she sighed before continuing.
"You're sure he won't meet you because you showed him the bitter side of marriage, right? Then, how about trying to return to a dating relationship?"
"A dating life?..."
"Didn't you tell me about the days when you first met? You were happy just being together. Now that you're retired and have time, it wouldn't be bad to return to those days."
I shook my head.
"Is that as easy as it sounds? My husband doesn't even want to see my face..."
"That depends on your effort. Are you unwilling to even try? Is your husband only worth that much to you?"
Something welled up inside me.
I couldn't tell who I was angry at.
Was it my daughter, Yu-rin, who caused the divorce? My husband, who didn't understand me? Or my drinking buddy, Grace, who kept sounding so sarcastic?
But I knew the truth.
The target of this anger wasn't them—it was me.
I was angry at myself for failing to educate Yu-rin properly and for being so neglectful of my family.
I realized that instead of spending time with my family, I'd invited others over, ruining the harmony we should have had.
That was why my husband had lost all affection for me.
Even so, it was my fault for believing he would endure everything just because he had silently accepted things during our dating days.
"No... yeah... I have to try at least once..."
I downed the whiskey in one gulp and stood up.
As the alcohol hit my system, a hot energy surged inside me.
"It doesn't seem like it will be of any use if you go in that state... How about you take a nap, organize your thoughts, and then go?"
"It's okay... it's okay..."
After I handed my card to the master to pay for everything, including what Grace had drunk, I turned to her.
"Thank you... hic... I think I have a rough idea of what I should do now. Next time I see you... I'll bring good news. See you later."
I was determined to 'make an effort' to reconcile with my husband, even in my current state.
Grace watched my back as I walked away unsteadily, unable to shake her anxiety.
And naturally, when I showed up at my ex-husband's parents' house while drunk, I ended up getting beaten up by my mother-in-law.