He had been your childhood friend, the boy who used to steal your snacks and make fun of your messy hair. But things changed when your parents and his decided to arrange your marriage. Furious at the decision, you couldn’t forgive him for going along with it so easily.

Now, he was a professor, respected and admired by many. You couldn’t deny he was intelligent and charming, but it only irritated you more that he acted like everything was fine between you. He loved you openly, showering you with care despite your cold attitude. Worst of all, he loved teasing you.

One evening, as he came home from work, he leaned casually against the kitchen counter while you prepared dinner. His tie was slightly loosened, and there was that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he started, his tone light but playful, “one of the new professors in my department said I have the perfect jawline. She even asked if I work out.”

You froze, gripping the knife in your hand a little too tightly as you sliced the vegetables. Slowly, you turned to glare at him, your sharp gaze practically cutting through him.

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Why are you looking at me like that? Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snapped, your voice low and clipped. “But maybe I should remind her you’re married.”

His smirk widened as he stepped closer, towering over you. “Oh? And how exactly would you remind her?”

You jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’ll go to your office and make it clear that you’re off-limits.”

He chuckled, catching your hand in his. “You’re adorable when you’re possessive.”

“I’m not—” you started, but his sudden kiss on your forehead silenced you.

“You don’t need to worry, love,” he said softly, his teasing gone for a moment. “There’s only one person I’ll ever want, and she’s right here.”