When I reached the front door, my heart almost stopped. I froze for a moment, clutching the handle as if my fingers could keep me from falling apart. A few tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I had to be strong. I had to leave before he asked me to.

When I finally pushed the door open, I saw him sitting on the couch, phone pressed to his ear. His shoulders were tense, his eyes wide with worry. The moment he saw me standing there, his entire body relaxed. He exhaled a shaky breath of relief and rushed toward me, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe.

"Where were you, my love?" he murmured against my hair, his voice trembling. "I kept calling you like crazy. I was so worried."

I pushed him away gently, avoiding his gaze. His brow furrowed in confusion, but I turned and walked straight to the bedroom. I heard his hesitant footsteps following behind me, each one echoing through the silence like guilt.

I opened my suitcase, hands trembling, and grabbed a few clothes without looking at him. Then, I went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The sound of running water filled the air, a small refuge against the chaos inside me.

When I stepped out, dressed and composed, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. He looked up as soon as I appeared, eyes searching my face. That single glance was enough to make all my determination falter.

"Why did you leave like that without telling me anything?" His voice cracked, a mix of fear and confusion.

"I needed to think," I said quietly, clutching my towel against my chest. "I heard your conversation with your mother… and decided I’m going back home."

His head snapped up, disbelief flooding his features. The concern in his eyes darkened into desperation.

"What are you talking about, Jane?" He stood up abruptly, taking a step closer. "What do you mean going back home? Your place is here with me. You’re my wife!"

"I’m your wife, yes," I said, my voice trembling, "but when your mother asked if you hadn’t made a mistake, you said… ‘Maybe.’"He blinked, stunned. "And did you hear the rest?"

"No." I lowered my gaze, ashamed. "I was so upset that I left immediately."

He sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping closer. "I said, ‘Maybe, I think I made a mistake thinking that my own mother would support me and see how happy I am with the woman I love.’ Jane, I have no doubt that you’re the woman of my life. My only regret about our marriage is not waiting for a traditional wedding. I wanted to see you walk down the aisle in a white dress, declaring our love before God and our families."

My lips parted in shock. Tears welled in my eyes again, blurring his image. The guilt hit me like a wave.

He stood, closing the distance between us. His hand rose gently to my face, his thumb brushing away the tears that escaped down my cheeks. His touch burned with tenderness.

"I don’t want you to leave," he said softly. "I love you. And I want to do everything right. Will you let me? Will you agree to have a traditional wedding party to reaffirm our vows?"

His lips curved into a small, emotional smile, his eyes glistening as if he were proposing all over again. My knees felt weak. How could I ever have doubted him? How could I have betrayed this man?

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled, and I collapsed into his arms, clutching his shirt tightly. "I’m sorry, my love! I’m so sorry!"

He stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head. "You don’t need to apologize, my love. It’s okay."

But his calmness only made the guilt worse. I pulled back, shaking my head. "I do need to. I ruined everything!"

"You didn’t ruin anything," he insisted, smiling faintly as he cupped my face. "Hey, you’re not a fool or an idiot. You’re the woman of my life."

His words only made me cry harder. "No, love..."

I took a shaky breath and stepped away from his embrace. He looked at me, confusion shadowing his eyes.

"Forgive me," I whispered, my hands trembling. "I left your mother’s house determined to end our relationship and go back to the United States. I was so upset that I went to a club to drink, and I ended up…" My throat closed, and I could barely force the words out.

He went still, eyes darkening. His jaw tightened as he slowly sank down onto the edge of the bed, already guessing what was coming. "Is it over?" he asked quietly.

"I ended up being with another man," I breathed, my voice cracking.

He closed his eyes. Silence filled the room heavy, suffocating. His hands gripped his knees, and for a moment, I thought he might scream. Instead, he exhaled slowly, then buried his face in his hands.

"Who?" he asked finally, his voice hoarse.

"I don’t know," I admitted, the shame stinging like salt in a wound. "Just some random guy. I didn’t even want to know his name. I was frustrated and just… wanted to forget you, even for a moment."

He stayed still for a long time, his breathing shallow. I could barely stand the sight of him breaking. My legs gave out, and I knelt between his knees, taking his hands away from his face.

"Of course not!" I cried, clutching him. "I’m crazy about you. That man meant nothing to me! I love you please, forgive me!"

He hesitated, then pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me tightly. I felt his tears against my neck, warm and heartbreaking.

We stayed that way, tangled in silence and regret, until he took my hand and intertwined our fingers.

"Did it really mean nothing?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing," I said, my eyes locked on his. "I don’t even know his name. I’ll never see him again, I swear."

He swallowed hard. "Promise?"

"I promise, my love. If you forgive me, I’ll be the best wife in the world."

He gave a weak smile, exhaustion written across his face. "Okay," he said finally, nodding. "Let’s forget about this, alright?"

Relief washed through me. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his, desperate to erase every trace of the pain I’d caused. He kissed me back with the same urgency, holding my face in both hands.

"I love you," I murmured between breaths. "I love you, I love you, my love."

"I love you too," he whispered back, resting his forehead against mine. "But please, talk to me next time before making decisions. We’re married now. We can solve anything together."

"Okay," I said, nodding through tears. "I promise."

He smiled softly. "Thank you for telling me the truth. As painful as it is, I’d rather hear it from you. It makes me trust you even more, because others wouldn’t have the courage."

"I don’t like lies," I said, voice trembling.

"I know," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "That’s one of the reasons I love you."

I kissed him again long, deep, and full of remorse and relief. For the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe again. He had forgiven me. Maybe we really could start over.

Later, we had breakfast together, the silence between us no longer heavy but fragile, careful. As I unpacked my suitcase, arranging clothes in the closet, he came up behind me quietly. His arms slipped around my waist, making me gasp softly before I turned to him. He laughed under his breath and showered my face with quick, tender kisses.

I smiled for the first time that morning and let myself melt into his embrace. Soon we were rolling on the bed, he undressed me gently and entered me with tenderness while constantly telling me how much he loved me. We made love in a unique, gentle, and delicious way that soon brought both of us to climax, thus concluding our reconciliation sex.

Today, Daon had to return to the record label where he worked and was excited for me to meet his friends. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as he hummed softly, moving around the room with that contagious energy of his. We took a shower together, laughing as the steam fogged the mirror, and then got ready side by side.

On the drive to Mixed, the record label where Daon was not only a rapper but also a producer, he kept tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm with the music. I could tell he was proud his chest slightly puffed, his smile never fading.

When we arrived, the familiar scent of coffee and sound equipment filled the air. People turned immediately at the sight of him, shouts of joy and laughter echoing through the hallway. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see Daon, though a few jaws dropped when he said I was his wife. He laughed at their reactions, his arm sliding naturally around my waist as if to reassure both them and me that this was real.

We walked together down the hallway, his fingers brushing against mine, until we reached the office of the record label’s owner who, according to him, was also his best friend.

"Love, the person I most want you to meet is Jayden," he said with a grin, opening the door slightly before turning back to me. His tone softened, eyes filled with warmth. "He helped me a lot in my career and is my best friend. I hope you two get along well. He's a bit of a player, but he's a good guy."

I laughed quietly at his playful tone, shaking my head as I adjusted the strap of my purse. His description made me picture some charming, overconfident man who loved attention. “A bit of a player, huh?” I teased, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You’ll see what I mean,” he said, just as my phone started ringing.

I glanced at the screen and saw Tracy’s name flash. My stomach twisted a little she always called at the most unpredictable times.

"Love, you go ahead, I need to take this call," I said, stepping back slightly as the ringtone continued to buzz.

"Okay, love, I'll wait for you in here," he replied, giving me a soft smile before pushing open the office door and disappearing inside.

I exhaled quietly, relieved to have a second to myself. Standing in the hallway, I pressed the phone to my ear, my voice dropping instinctively. The hallway was empty, the faint hum of music seeping from the studios down the corridor.

"Hey, you floozy," came Tracy’s familiar voice, dripping with sarcasm.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the wall and smiled. "What's up, cow? Did you call because you're already missing me?" My tone was light, teasing, as I twisted a strand of hair between my fingers.

"Missing you? No way, I couldn't wait to get rid of you," she shot back, laughter bubbling through her words.

"Besides being a floozy, you're a liar," I replied, laughing quietly. “So, why did you call?”

"Nothing special," she said with a yawn. "Just wanted to let you know I arrived safely and to see how you're doing."

I bit my lip, my laughter fading as I looked at the closed office door a few feet away. “Everything’s fine,” I lied smoothly. She didn’t need to know about the whirlwind I had gotten myself into she’d just say I told you so, and I wasn’t ready to hear that yet.

"Oh, that’s good! Everything’s fine here. And how are you there in the land of rice eaters?"

I smirked. “Everything’s great.”

"That’s good! I’ll hang up now because I don’t have a rich husband to pay for my international calls. If you need anything, just message me," she said, laughing again.

I smiled, shaking my head as I hung up the phone. For a moment, I stood there, collecting myself, smoothing down my dress, forcing the grin to stay on my lips even as a strange uneasiness spread through my chest. Then, taking a slow breath, I raised my hand and knocked on the office door.

"Come in, love!" I heard Daon’s cheerful voice from inside.

The warmth in his tone gave me courage. I turned the handle and walked in, closing the door softly behind me. Daon immediately got up from where he was standing and came toward me with that same radiant smile, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. His hands lingered briefly on my arms before he pulled back, still smiling.

As my eyes lifted toward the desk, the world around me seemed to tilt.

There, seated in the CEO’s chair, was a man whose expression mirrored my own eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, as if he too had seen a ghost. My breath hitched. My stomach tightened painfully. Every sound in the room seemed to fade except for the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

"Jayden, this is Jane, my wife," Daon said proudly, completely unaware of the storm crashing inside me. "Jane, this is my boss and best friend, Jayden Park!"

Jayden.

The name fell heavy between us.

I froze. My smile faltered. Every drop of color drained from my face as I stared at the man I had slept with the night before. His gaze locked with mine, equally stunned, his hand gripping the edge of the desk as if anchoring himself in place.

Daon looked between us, still grinning, oblivious to the tension slicing the air. I forced a polite smile, though my pulse raced so hard I thought he could hear it. My hands trembled slightly, so I clasped them together in front of me, trying to look calm.

Inside, my thoughts screamed. How am I going to get out of this situation?

The room suddenly felt too small, the air too heavy. Jayden’s eyes flickered away for a brief second, his jaw tightening. Daon, still cheerful, began talking about the label, unaware of the silent chaos building between his best friend and his wife.

And I stood there trapped between guilt, shock, and the terrifying realization that the past night hadn’t just followed me here... it was staring right back at me.