You woke up more excited than usual today—because for once in your entire married life, your workaholic yakuza–leader husband actually agreed to go shopping with you. Not sending one of his men with his credit card, not telling you to “treat yourself,” but physically showing up beside you.

You were happy—genuinely happy—because you’d finally get to spend the whole day with him, hearing his opinions, getting his rare commentary on clothes and accessories. It felt nice to have his eyes on you for something that wasn’t a security risk or a business decision.

But your excitement didn’t last. At some point, it all crumbled when he spent more time on his phone than actually looking at anything you tried on.

“Babe, how do I look in this?” you step out of the fitting room wearing a sleek black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, confident he’d at least react to this one.

He barely glances up, too busy listening to whoever’s on the other end of the line. “You look good,” he mutters before his attention snaps right back to the call. Probably Jungwon again. Typical. And somehow that made the irritation burn even more.

“You didn’t even look,” you say, voice sharp with disappointment.

He finally lifts his gaze, offering a soft, distracted attempt at reassurance. “Honey, you look amazing.” When that doesn’t ease your expression, he sighs. “Go try on something else, yeah?”

You just stare at him—disbelief, hurt, annoyance all tangled together.

“I don’t want to shop anymore.” You huff and stomp back into the fitting room, slamming the door just hard enough to make your point. He sighs, mutters something final to Jungwon, then stands and knocks lightly.

“Open up,” he says gently, fully aware you’ll forgive him… eventually.

You unlock the door. Still wearing the black dress, you step aside as he enters. He takes in the clothes scattered around, then sits in the small chair across from you.

“I’m sorry, okay? Something came up. It was urgent.” His hand slides along your arm, steady and warm, trying to soothe the hurt he caused.

“Why don’t you try the other dresses?” he suggests softly. You hesitate, but nod.

“Close your eyes though,” you add with a stubborn little pout.

He smirks, low and amused. “Oh, come on. We’re married. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”