That night slipped into its usual rhythm. The quiet kind.
After getting fresh, Hae-in settled onto the bed, her phone in hand, scrolling absently. The room carried that soft, post-shower calm—warm lights, faint silence… and Ji-hoon in the background, drying his hair, humming his favorite song like he always did.
It was oddly comforting.
Familiar.
He finished, placed the dryer aside, and without a second thought, climbed onto the bed—his signature grin already in place.
He slipped into her space. hovering on her, arms wrapping around her, face snuggling into her shoulder.
"Hm… today was hectic," he mumbled into her shoulder, his voice soft and tired. "I really need to hire another cook…"
She blinked, momentarily distracted by the sudden closeness— his warmth, his scent… fresh, clean… dangerously comforting.
She placed her phone aside slowly.
And then—almost unconsciously—wrapped her arms around him.
"If you let me help with serving or cleaning, Enwoo could assist in the kitchen…" she suggested quietly.
He lifted his head, looking at her.
"If you do those chores, then who'll handle my counter?" he asked, brows lifting slightly. "And besides… I don't want my wife touching others' dirty dishes."
Her gaze lingered on his face.
Trying to understand the man who spoke so simply, yet meant so much.
He smiled. Then, suddenly leaned closer—forehead touching hers.
"Stop looking at me like that, cutie…" he whispered, voice dipping low, playful yet dangerous in its softness. "You look irresistible."
Her breath caught. And instinct kicked in.
She pushed him.
He laughed, falling onto his back beside her, the sound light, unbothered.
Then he turned again, reaching for her—pulling her closer without asking, like it was already understood.
She resisted at first—out of habit more than intent—but Ji-hoon was persistent. With a gentle insistence, he pulled her closer until her strength gave way, her body settling into his embrace.
His smile softened the moment she did. There was something in his eyes now—quieter, deeper—as he looked at her, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair.
"How's your preparation going?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "It's going fine… but it's a little hard to get back into it after so long. I can't focus for long hours without getting distracted."
There was no pride in her voice. Just honesty.
Ji-hoon smiled gently. "You'll get used to it. Don't be too hard on yourself."
She exhaled slowly. "I only have two months for the entrance test. I need to put in more effort."
"I know," he said softly. "But stressing yourself won't help. Just take it easy… do what you can."
He paused, "And if it doesn't happen this time… try again. As many chances as you need."
"I know you'll make it one day." His voice didn't carry doubt. Only certainty.
Warmth spread through her steadily, like being wrapped in something safe.
She looked into his eyes. Trying to understand.
Why is he like this? Why does he care so much? Why does he love me like this…?
A flicker of doubt crept in, quiet but sharp.
Am I even worthy of this? What if… this isn't real? What if I'm just… being fooled?
Her thoughts tangled, pulling in opposite directions.
What are you thinking, Hae-in? Another voice inside her snapped back. He's been nothing but genuinely loving you. He is showing it every single day. And you're still doubting him?
Her gaze stayed on him—but her mind drifted somewhere far.
Ji-hoon noticed. He always did. A small smile touched his lips as he watched her, eyes soft with curiosity.
"What are you thinking, cutie?" he asked gently.
She blinked, pulled back into the moment. Shook her head quickly. "Nothing."
He didn't believe it. Of course, he didn't. His eyes searched her face quietly before he spoke again—this time softer, more careful.
"If you want to say something… say it," he murmured. "Don't hide from me."
There was no pressure in his voice. Just an open door. Just… giving her a place where she didn't have to hold them in. Something in his words reached her. Undoing the walls she built around her.
She searched his face again, carefully… almost suspiciously. People could act kindly. She had seen that. Sweetness could be a costume.
But his eyes… they weren't performing. They were waiting.
"You like me so much…" she said, almost testing the words on her tongue.
A smile curved on his lips, slow and certain. "I love you so much. Not just liking."
Something inside her loosened. Not fully… but enough to breathe. A small smile stretched across her lips before her gaze dropped, her fingers unconsciously playing with the edge of her sleeve.
"One of my cousin sisters…" she began. "She was beautiful, bright… she wanted her own identity…" Her voice softened, as if she were looking at a memory instead of speaking. "But as soon as she finished college… she was married off."
Her breath hitched slightly. "At first, everything was good. She was loved, cared for… and within a year she became a mother."
A pause. "But slowly… everything changed." His fingers tightened around hers, just a little.
"Her body changed. She gained weight. Postpartum stress… handling a baby… everything happened so fast that she got left behind in her own life." Her voice trembled, but she kept going. "And her husband… he started distancing himself. Emotional distance, as if she didn't matter anymore."
Ji-hoon's jaw clenched faintly, but he stayed silent. Because this wasn't his moment to speak. It was hers to finally be heard.
"When she tried to talk about it… her family said it's normal." A bitter smile touched her lips. "They said it's her fault for gaining weight. That she should 'fix herself'… or how will her husband find her attractive enough to love her?"
Her voice cracked at the word love. She blinked quickly, trying to steady herself. She looked at him again, eyes burning.
"Is it her fault… that she got pregnant?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper now. "Or that she had to go through something so life-changing… something everyone glorifies like it's easy?"
Silence.
"Why was she the one asked to change?" she continued, her voice gaining an edge. "Why wasn't her husband asked to understand her? To support her?"
She inhaled shakily, then let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "And the worst part?" she said, turning her face slightly toward him. "She believes it's her fault."
That landed like a quiet thunder.
"For ten years… she's been trying to fix herself. Trying to please everyone." Her lips curved, but there was no joy in them. "And somewhere along the way… she lost herself."
Her eyes softened, distant now. "I miss the old her… the girl who used to laugh without thinking twice." A pause. "Now she's always careful. Always adjusting. Always… shrinking."
Ji-hoon's gaze didn't leave her face. Not even for a second.
"And what does her husband give her?" she asked, looking straight into his eyes.
He didn't answer. Because some answers feel insulting when spoken out loud.
She gave a quiet nod, as if confirming her own thought. "Nothing. Just… existing. Carrying the pride of being a 'man.'"
The room fell into silence again. But this time… it felt heavier. She let out a breath and continued, her voice calmer but deeper.
"That's just one story."
She shifted slightly, resting her head back, staring at the ceiling.
"There's another."
Ji-hoon stayed beside her, watching her, listening to her.
"My other cousin… she was careful. She saw all this and decided she would do things differently." A faint trace of admiration passed through her tone. "She became independent first. Built her life… and then chose to marry."
For a moment, there was hope in her voice. "But it didn't matter."
The hope faded just as quickly. "She was love-bombed," she said quietly. "He made her feel like she was everything… until the marriage was done."
Her fingers curled slightly against the bedsheet. "And then… he changed. Affairs. Lies. Everything."
Ji-hoon's expression hardened, something dark flickering in his eyes.
"And when she spoke up?" she continued. "You know what she was told?" She turned her head toward him.
"Adjust. Be better. Keep him interested… so he doesn't go to another woman." The words hung in the air like something rotten.
She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes for a second before opening them again. "It's always the same script… just different actors."
Her voice softened again as exhaustion crept in. She let herself fall back completely, staring at the ceiling.
"This isn't just them…" she murmured. "I've seen it everywhere."
Ji-hoon watched her quietly, his gaze tracing the tired lines on her face… the strength it took to carry all of this alone.
She turned her head toward him again. "What happened?" she asked softly when she noticed his silence.
He shook his head slightly, a small, unreadable smile on his lips. "Nothing…" he said quietly. "I'm just… listening."
She studied him for a second, then nodded. "I've been surrounded by these marriages for years," she continued. "That's why I never wanted to get married."
Her voice steadied now, clearer, firmer.
"I'm tired of seeing this behavior being normalized. Women being blamed. Adjusting, sacrificing… while men get away with everything." Her brows furrowed slightly. "And the worst part? Some women don't even realize it… and they push other women into the same trap in the name of culture."
A pause. Her eyes darkened just a little. "And some men… they understand everything. They know exactly what they're doing… and still choose to pretend. To manipulate. To use."
Her gaze locked with his. "I don't understand how someone can say 'I love you'… and then slowly destroy that person."
Her voice dropped, almost fragile again. "How do they fake it so well… just to trap someone into a life they can't escape from?"
Silence followed.