chapter 16

As Heeseung settled himself onto the bed, he turned to Yuna with a thoughtful expression. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, his usual cool demeanor softened by the intimacy of the situation.

"You should stop calling me sir," he said, his voice low and calm. "Call me by my name, okay? We're husband and wife, after all."

Yuna froze for a second, her fingers stilling on the bedspread as she processed his words. Her heart skipped a beat. Husband and wife. It felt surreal to hear him say it so casually, but his tone wasn't demanding or cold—it was soft, almost gentle, like he was just suggesting something between equals.

She hesitated, biting her lip. "But... sir, what about at work?" she asked, unsure of how to balance their professional and personal lives.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You can choose to call me sir, or Heeseung," he said, his tone light. There was no pressure in his voice, just a calm understanding.

Yuna blinked, processing this newfound sense of freedom. She hadn't expected him to be so casual about it. So I get to choose? She thought about it for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"Okay, at work, I'll call you sir," she said, her voice a little more confident now. "And at home, Heeseung... is that okay?"

Heeseung nodded, his eyes lighting up with approval. He leaned back slightly, his body relaxing into the softness of the bed, and let out a small exhale. "Yeah, that's fine. It's a good balance."

Yuna smiled at that, her heart fluttering a little at the thought of calling him by his name. It felt... personal. Intimate. A small, simple act that somehow made the room feel warmer, more like a home rather than just a place to sleep. She felt a wave of contentment spread through her chest.

Heeseung's eyes followed her as she gave a soft, almost shy smile. It was the kind of smile that made him forget about the world outside the room. He could feel his heart rate quicken slightly, something about the way she looked at him—so genuine, so unguarded—striking a chord deep inside him. UGH, she is so cute when she smiles, Heeseung thought to himself, unable to suppress the sudden rush of warmth that spread across his face.

He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, trying to maintain his usual composure, but it was difficult. The sight of her smiling—so sweetly, so openly—was something he wasn't used to. His heart thudded in his chest.

Yuna, unaware of the effect she was having on him, pulled the covers up, smoothing the fabric over herself as she prepared for sleep. The tension in the room seemed to fade, the awkwardness from earlier slowly dissipating, leaving a sense of peace in its place. She turned toward the opposite side of the bed, settling in, her back facing him.

"Alright, I'll go to bed now," Yuna said softly, trying to sound casual, though a small part of her still felt nervous. Tomorrow we'll be back to work, she reminded herself. Back to the normal routine. She wasn't sure how to feel about that—on one hand, work felt familiar, safe even. But on the other hand, tonight was different. Tonight, she was here, in Heeseung's bed, with him. And she couldn't deny the tiny flutter in her chest whenever she thought about that fact.

She closed her eyes, trying to push away the rush of thoughts in her head. "Good night, sir... I mean, Heeseung," she said with a soft laugh, correcting herself with the faintest blush creeping up her neck.

Heeseung's lips curled into a small smile as he responded, his voice soft yet firm. "Good night."

Yuna smiled to herself as she snuggled deeper into the covers. She could feel the warmth of the bed surrounding her, and though it wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world to be so close to someone else, especially when she was still adjusting to the idea of being married to Heeseung, there was something comforting about it. The quiet, the stillness, the presence of another person—someone who, despite everything, seemed to care in his own way.

It's only the first night, Yuna thought, her mind wandering. But maybe... just maybe, I can get used to this.

Her thoughts drifted, but sleep didn't come easily. She found herself occasionally turning her head toward Heeseung, her eyes lingering on him for a moment before quickly averting them. She wasn't sure why—maybe it was the proximity, maybe it was the uncertainty of the situation—but something about him made her nervous. She wasn't used to being this close to someone, especially not a man like Heeseung.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard him shift in bed, the slight rustle of the sheets causing a small smile to tug at her lips. She couldn't help but wonder if he was as nervous as she was. Or maybe he's used to this, she thought. He's probably been through this a hundred times before.

With that thought, she allowed her mind to wander, and before long, her thoughts became a blur, and the steady rhythm of his breathing next to her began to lull her into sleep.

The night was silent, the house wrapped in an eerie stillness. Yuna stirred in bed, her throat dry and uncomfortable. She blinked groggily, adjusting to the dim lighting before quietly slipping out from under the covers. Careful not to disturb Heeseung, she tiptoed across the room and made her way toward the kitchen.

Descending the grand, luxurious staircase, she felt an odd sense of displacement. This house still doesn't feel like mine, she thought, gripping the cool wooden railing. The house was breathtaking, with its pristine marble floors, golden accents, and vast, open space. Yet, despite its grandeur, it felt hollow—like an extravagant stage set rather than a home.

She entered the kitchen, the faint hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence. Yuna reached for a glass, then poured herself some cold water, letting the refreshing liquid soothe her parched throat. She took slow sips, savoring the momentary relief.

But just as she was about to place the glass down, a voice shattered the fragile peace.

"You still have this anklet?"

The sudden sound made her flinch, and she nearly dropped the glass. Her heartbeat spiked as she turned around, coming face to face with the last person she wanted to see—Jaewon.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him standing just a few feet away, his eyes fixed on her ankle, where a delicate silver anklet glimmered under the dim kitchen light. It was the same one he had given her years ago, back when things were different—when she was foolish enough to believe in his love.

Yuna felt an overwhelming wave of emotions crash over her—anger, betrayal, resentment. She didn't say anything. She simply turned her back to him, washing the glass with measured movements, as if his presence didn't rattle her.

She was about to walk past him, determined to ignore him entirely, when his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body, not from longing, but from sheer disgust.

She yanked her arm away instantly, glaring at him. "Don't touch me," she spat, her voice venomous, filled with years of pain and unspoken words.

Jaewon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know what I did was wrong," he said, his tone carrying a desperation that she refused to acknowledge. "But why would you marry my so-called brother, Heeseung?"

Yuna clenched her fists at her sides. Why does he care? Why does he have the audacity to act like he's the victim?

He stepped closer, eyes searching hers. "What happened between me and your best friend was just a one-night stand... It didn't mean anything. I was drunk. I made a mistake, Yuna. I regret it every day," Jaewon said, voice laced with guilt.

She let out a bitter chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. "A mistake?" she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that what you call it? A one-night stand with my best friend?" She could feel the sting in her chest, the ache of betrayal that had once shattered her.

"You don't get to rewrite the past, Jaewon," she continued, voice trembling slightly, though she refused to let the tears in her eyes fall. "If you truly loved me, you wouldn't have done it. You wouldn't have destroyed everything we had. And now, you have the nerve to ask why I married Heeseung?"

Jaewon reached for her again, but this time she took a step back.

"I still love you," he admitted, his voice raw with desperation.

Yuna inhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay strong. "Stop with the lies," she whispered. "You didn't love me. If you did, you wouldn't have broken me like that."

Turning away, she made to leave, her hands trembling at her sides, her body screaming for distance from him. But once again, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist—this time, tighter.

She gasped at the force, struggling against his hold. "Let go of me!" she hissed, her panic rising.

Jaewon's eyes were wild now, his grip unrelenting. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Did you marry Heeseung just to make me jealous? Do you still love me?"

Yuna felt sick. He actually thinks this is about him. He actually thinks I would waste my life trying to get back at him.

"I love you, Yuna," Jaewon pleaded, his voice almost breaking. "I still do."

Her stomach churned at his words. He was saying all the things she once would have died to hear, but now, they felt meaningless. Empty.

"Love?" she scoffed. "You don't know what love is."

Jaewon, desperate, pulled her closer, his face dangerously near to hers. His intent was clear—he was going to kiss her.

Pure panic shot through Yuna's veins. She struggled harder, pushing against his chest. "LET GO OF ME!" she yelled, her voice sharp, trembling.

And just as her strength began to wane, just as she feared he might actually force himself on her—

A loud voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"What the hell is going on?"

Yuna's body stilled, her eyes snapping toward the doorway. Relief flooded her as she saw Heeseung standing there, his gaze locked onto Jaewon with a look so dark, so dangerous, that the room itself seemed to freeze.

Jaewon immediately released Yuna's wrist, stepping back as Heeseung advanced toward them. Yuna instinctively moved behind Heeseung, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Heeseung's jaw was clenched, his usually composed expression twisted into something cold and lethal. His sharp eyes bore into Jaewon, filled with nothing but rage.

"Did you just put your hands on my wife?" Heeseung's voice was low, controlled—but it carried a threat so thick it was suffocating.

Jaewon swallowed, shifting uncomfortably, but he said nothing.

Yuna's breath came in shallow gasps. Her hands trembled as she gripped the fabric of her nightgown, her mind reeling from the encounter. She had thought she was strong enough to face Jaewon without fear, without lingering wounds reopening—but tonight proved otherwise.

She wasn't scared of Jaewon anymore. She was disgusted by him.

And at that moment, as Heeseung stepped in front of her like a shield, like a silent declaration of protection, she realized something.

The room was thick with tension, the air practically vibrating with restrained fury. Yuna stood behind Heeseung, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Her wrist throbbed where Jaewon had gripped it too tightly, the sensation a cruel reminder of just how close she had come to reliving a nightmare she thought she had left behind.

Heeseung's eyes darkened, his usual composed demeanor slipping away like sand through fingers. His jaw was clenched so tightly that Yuna could see the muscle twitch. He took a slow, menacing step forward, his broad frame completely shielding her from Jaewon's presence.

"How dare you..." Heeseung's voice was dangerously low, the kind of calm that came before a storm. His eyes bore into Jaewon like sharp daggers, filled with a simmering rage that threatened to boil over. "How dare you lay your hands on my wife?"

The words rang through the kitchen, heavy with authority and possessiveness. Yuna shivered—not in fear, but in something else entirely. For the first time since this nightmare began, she didn't feel alone.