The first thing her husband noticed was Seoyoon's clothes.

One morning, as he got ready for work, he looked at her sitting at the dining table.

(Husband): “You've been buying clothes lately.”

Seoyoon glanced down at what she was wearing.

In the past, she would have worn a stretched-out T-shirt and sweatpants for kindergarten drop-off.

These days, even when she had nowhere special to go, she often wore clothes she simply liked.

(Seoyoon): “Yeah. A few.”

(Husband): “You're still doing Pilates too, right?”

(Seoyoon): “Yeah.”

(Husband): “And Seoyi's art academy.”

Seoyoon took a drink of water instead of answering.

Her husband smiled as he picked up his work bag.

(Husband): “Your dad's spending quite a bit on his granddaughter.”

Seoyoon smiled too.

(Seoyoon): “I guess he is.”

At that point, he still didn't suspect much.

But the changes kept adding up.

On days the housekeeper came, Seoyoon left the apartment in the morning.

Sometimes she took her laptop to a café.

Sometimes she went to the wholesale market.

Packing bags and boxes began appearing near the entrance.

Packages arrived several at a time.

One evening, her husband came home, looked at the boxes in the living room, and asked,

(Husband): “What's all this?”

(Seoyoon): “Stuff I bought to try selling.”

(Husband): “Selling what?”

(Seoyoon): “Just small things. I'm going to try selling online.”

Her husband looked at the boxes, then at the laptop.

(Husband): “You're starting a business all of a sudden?”

(Seoyoon): “I wouldn't call it a business yet. I'm just trying it.”

(Husband): “Does it cost a lot?”

(Seoyoon): “No. I'm starting small.”

He nodded.

(Husband): “If it's fun, go for it.”

That was what he said.

But a few days later, he began wearing a slightly puzzled expression.

Art academy.

Pilates.

Housekeeper.

New clothes.

Laptop work at cafés.

Products from the wholesale market.

Each thing by itself was small.

Together, they made Seoyoon look very different from the woman she'd been before.

One weekend evening, after putting their daughter to bed, Seoyoon was working on her laptop at the dining table when her husband sat across from her.

For a while, he said nothing.

Seoyoon asked first.

(Seoyoon): “What?”

He smiled.

(Husband): “Nothing. I'm just curious.”

(Seoyoon): “About what?”

(Husband): “I mean, there's the art academy, Pilates, the cleaner. You've bought some clothes. Now you're starting things too.”

Seoyoon looked at him.

He didn't sound angry.

He wasn't interrogating her.

He simply looked like someone genuinely curious about his wife's sudden changes.

(Husband): “Is your dad still helping you out?”

Seoyoon opened her mouth, then closed it.

If she lied again here, it would start to feel strange.

No.

She would start to dislike herself.

For the past few months, she had needed time.

Time to think alone.

Time to find out what she wanted to do now that she had money.

In those months, Seoyoon had used money to buy time before buying things.

And with that time, she had begun something again.

Now, she thought she could tell him.

She closed her laptop.

(Seoyoon): “Honey.”

(Husband): “Yeah?”

(Seoyoon): “There's something I haven't told you.”

His expression tightened slightly.

(Husband): “What?”

Seoyoon brought over her phone.

She opened the bank account where the lottery winnings had been deposited and slid the screen toward him.

At first, he didn't understand what he was looking at.

He looked at the balance.

At Seoyoon.

Then at the screen again.

(Husband): “What is this?”

(Seoyoon): “The lottery.”

He laughed.

(Husband): “What?”

(Seoyoon): “I won the lottery.”

He stopped speaking.

Seoyoon added,

(Seoyoon): “First prize.”

His eyes went back to the phone.

(Husband): “When?”

(Seoyoon): “A few months ago.”

He looked up.

(Husband): “A few months ago?”

This time, it wasn't only shock on his face.

There was confusion too.

(Husband): “Then why are you telling me now?”

Seoyoon had expected the question.

She answered slowly.

(Seoyoon): “At first, I was going to tell you right away.”

She remembered the day she'd gone to his office.

(Seoyoon): “But I didn't even know what I wanted to do with the money.”

(Husband): “Still, shouldn't you have told me?”

Seoyoon paused.

(Seoyoon): “Yeah. I understand why you'd think that.”

Then she told him the truth.

(Seoyoon): “But I felt like the moment I told you, it would immediately become household money again.”

His expression shifted.

Seoyoon continued.

(Seoyoon): “Pay off the mortgage, give some to our parents, spend it on Seoyi. Of course we should do those things.”

(Seoyoon): “But before that, I wanted to think about it once for myself.”

He listened quietly.

(Seoyoon): “What I wanted to do, now that this money existed.”

(Seoyoon): “It's been so long since I had money that felt like mine...”

She gave a small laugh.

(Seoyoon): “So I tried spending some. Bought clothes. Exercised. Hired help.”

(Seoyoon): “And then I realized I didn't actually want to buy a bunch of things.”

Her husband asked,

(Husband): “Then what did you want?”

(Seoyoon): “Time.”

He said nothing.

Seoyoon pulled out a note she'd been organizing for days.

(Seoyoon): “I've been thinking about something.”

First, the mortgage.

Pay off what remained on their home.

Then give the same amount to both sets of parents.

Her husband nodded.

(Husband): “I'm good with that too.”

(Seoyoon): “And I want to divide what's left.”

She pointed to the numbers she'd written down.

Husband: 30%.

Seoyoon: 30%.

Retirement and long-term investment: 30%.

Child: 10%.

Her husband looked down at the paper.

(Husband): “Thirty percent for me?”

(Seoyoon): “Yeah.”

(Seoyoon): “Use it on whatever you want.”

He laughed a little.

(Husband): “Anything?”

(Seoyoon): “Anything. And I'll use my thirty percent however I want.”

(Husband): “No interfering?”

(Seoyoon): “No interfering.”

She pointed to the rest.

(Seoyoon): “Thirty percent for retirement and investment. We'll decide that together.”

(Seoyoon): “Ten percent for Seoyi.”

Her husband stared at the paper for a long time.

Seoyoon found herself nervous.

It was a plan she'd thought about alone for months.

If he hated it, maybe they'd have to start the whole conversation again.

After a while, he put the paper down.

Then said,

(Husband): “Okay.”

Seoyoon blinked.

(Seoyoon): “Okay?”

(Husband): “Yeah.”

He looked at the bank balance again, then laughed in disbelief.

(Husband): “Wow. People really do win the lottery.”

Seoyoon laughed with him.

The 3.2 billion won she had carried alone for months finally became money that belonged to both of them.

Strangely, though, it didn't feel as if Seoyoon's share had disappeared.

Because she had decided what belonged to her before she divided it.