Page 32 of Perfect Happiness

But even after the divorce, Yuna continued to receive things from the court.

They were all documents related to her ex-husband’s visitation rights.

It appeared that on this account, he had won.

Wife had paid a fine of three million won for ignoring the court’s orders, but it looked like she was still receiving court orders.

The period that she had to execute the most recent court order ended today, November 30.

Had Wife allowed her ex-husband to exercise his visitation rights? And if she didn’t this time, what would her punishment be? It would probably be worse than just a fine.

As far as Eun-ho knew, Jiyoo was at her grandma’s house.

That’s what Wife told him. She said she would stay there until things settled down.

Did that mean her ex-husband had met Jiyoo there?

Or perhaps before that? Suddenly, Eun-ho remembered the detectives that had showed up at their door.

Didn’t they say he was missing? Since last Tuesday . . .

He had to stop his thoughts from multiplying and blinding him. When he turned the page, he found a white envelope. Inside were two Polaroid pictures. The colors were faded, but Eun-ho had no difficulty in making out the subjects.

The first picture was of a Caucasian man sitting at a kitchen table with his hands wrapped around a teacup.

What interested Eun-ho wasn’t the man but the object in the alcove behind him.

He recognized it immediately. It was a music box in the shape of St. Basil’s Cathedral.

It would probably play Moscow Nights if you wound the spring.

Eun-ho had bought the exact same music box at Izmailovsky Market in Moscow—four of them, in fact.

Three as presents, and one to keep in his study.

The picture had been taken eight years ago on January 20.

As far as he knew, that was the year Wife had returned from Russia after studying abroad there.

Eun-ho searched his memory. What month did she say she had come back?

March? April? It definitely wasn’t January because she said she came back right before school started in March.

If he remembered correctly, that would mean this picture had been taken in Russia.

There were two men in the second picture. The format was similar to the first picture in that they were sitting at a dinner table and with teacups in front of them. One of the men was someone he knew. The picture was thirteen years old, and his face was blurry, but Eun-ho could be sure it was Jinu.

Eun-ho recalled a memory. He could almost hear Jinu’s voice from that day at the Shaman Rock.

“ You made me coffee one time. At your apartment, when Jiwoon moved out.”

Eun-ho put the picture on the floor. He pulled out his phone and opened his camera. He didn’t know what this picture meant, but he had a feeling he might need this later.

Eun-ho looked at the clock to see it was past 7—time for Wife to come home.

He put the documents and envelope back in the box and put the box back where he found it.

He turned off the light and came out of Jiyoo’s room.

As he closed the door, he realized the whole house was shrouded in darkness.

Of course it was. He hadn’t turned on the lights when he came upstairs because it was still light out, but that was almost two hours ago.

Eun-ho suddenly felt lost. What should he do now?

He didn’t have the confidence to act like someone who knew nothing.

If he ran into Wife right now, he would end up asking her questions: who she was with when she disappeared, what was she lying about and why, what was the meaning of the box in Jiyoo’s room.

And even if he didn’t ask, Wife would know something was up. She was a pro at reading his face. Most likely, she would ask him if he had something he wanted to tell her.

But neither could he avoid seeing her. Unlike him, Wife couldn’t stand not knowing things.

Even if he tried locking himself in his study, she would come in and pester him about what was wrong.

Why didn’t you pick up the phone? What were the test results?

What did you do all day? Why didn’t you answer my text messages after you read them?

Eun-ho went over to the window and parted the curtains to look outside. Headlights were moving toward the house. He waited for a while until a white sedan pulled up under the streetlamp out front. It was Wife.

He’d lost his chance to go downstairs. Wife would have already seen that the lights were off.

Eun-ho went into Noah’s room. He reached out and found Noah’s desk.

He took Pengsoo out of the box and crawled into bed with it.

He then took off his socks and threw them onto the ground, as though he had tossed them while half asleep.

He then focused all his attention on his ears.

He heard the car door opening. He also thought he heard the faint sound of the front door opening. After that, silence. At least until Wife knocked on the bedroom door.

Eun-ho sucked in his breath. He had almost said “Come in.” Then the voice in his head whispered to him. What are you doing, man? Pretending to be asleep, in your own home, because you’re afraid of your wife?

Eun-ho could sense the door opening and a light shining into the room. It wasn’t the ceiling light. It was too faint. It must be coming from the playroom.

“Eun-ho. What are you doing here?”

She spoke as if she knew he wasn’t asleep. The loud voice inside his head directed him. Pretend to open your eyes. Naturally. And don’t embarrass yourself by getting caught with bad acting!

Eun-ho wanted to know. He wanted to know who his wife was, this woman whom he had once been head over heels for, whom, aside from a few exhausting personality flaws, he still loved.

Did he really know her? What exactly was she doing behind his back?

And how were those things related to what was going on right now?

To answer these questions, he needed to put to sleep the voice in his head.

He started singing a silent lullaby to the voice in himself.

Hush, hush, little baby. Cuckoo, cuckoo, quiet chicken. Don’t you wake up the baby.

Eun-ho sensed Wife coming closer. It sounded like she was barefoot again.

Even Eun-ho’s own heartbeat was louder than her footsteps.

It took an unbearable amount of time for her to reach him.

He didn’t know a human could move this slowly.

As the suspense drew on, Eun-ho felt like his spine was going to start spasming.

The tingling sensation travelled all the way down to his toes.

This caused his toes to move on their own.

“Eun-ho? Are you asleep?”

Her voice was right above his face. He continued to focus on singing the lullaby that his grandma used to sing to him.

Don’t you bark, little doggy. You will wake up the baby.

“What are you doing sleeping here? It’s so cold.”

Wife’s cold hand touched his cheek. Immediately, his breathing started to quicken. He might have even flinched slightly. He continued to sing the lullaby as though he was casting a spell.

Don’t you bark, red doggy.

Don’t you bark, blue doggy.

Don’t you bark, yellow doggy.

Wife’s whispering tickled his ears. “Sleep. I’ll turn on the heat for you.”

Eun-ho could feel Wife getting farther away, unbearably slowly, just like when she had approached him.

It felt like a century passed before he heard the door closing.

Once the dark silence returned to the room, he was able to let out the breath he’d been holding in.

At the same time, he unleashed in his mind the loud voice he’d been suppressing.

Well, what are you going to do now?

Thankfully, he had all the time in the world to think about this now.

3 a.m. He got up from the bed. He walked out of the room barefoot, just like Wife.

Without turning on the light, he felt his way along the wall and moved toward the edge of the stairs.

The house from the top of the stairs looked like a large pit of darkness.

Unable to see the light from the street, Eun-ho figured all the curtains in the house had been closed, from the balcony and the back door all the way to the kitchen windows.

Eun-ho pulled out his cellphone. He turned on the flashlight and descended the stairs in silence.

He crossed the living room, being careful not to bump into anything.

When he arrived in front of the master bedroom, he lowered the intensity of his flashlight to the lowest setting.

In the instance that Wife was still awake, he would pretend like he was coming back to bed.

When he arrived at the head of the bed, he paused.

Wife was lying on her side and facing the wall.

Eun-ho couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep because he couldn’t see her face.

On the bed next to the nape of her neck was her phone.

Just from the position of the phone and her hand, it seemed like she had fallen asleep while looking at her phone.

Eun-ho picked up her cellphone. He pressed the home button and was met with the lock screen. Eun-ho knew it would be locked. But he had to check anyway. The palm of Wife’s right hand was face down on the bed just beneath her chin. He would need her right thumb if he wanted to unlock the phone.

If Wife had been lying on her back or if her side of the bed wasn’t right up against the wall, this would have been easy.

But because Wife was facing away from Eun-ho, and because there was no way for Eun-ho to walk to her side of the bed, getting at her right thumb was going to be difficult.

He would either have to bend her arm and bring her hand to the phone, or he would have to bend over and bring the phone to her hand.