You had been in a relationship with taesan for several years, despite the noticeable age gap—while you were still in college at 19, he was already 24 and running his father’s company.

To the world, taesan was serious and cold. But to you? He was a complete softie. You were working late on a project that was due the next day at 12:30 p.m. It was already 10:36 p.m., but you still had some time left. Taesan came home from work, exhausted and clearly in need of your affection. He wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Daarliiing…” he murmured into your neck.But you were too focused to respond properly, eyes glued to your laptop.

“Darling…” he tried again, his tone now laced with mock hurt. “Hm?” you answered absently.

He dramatically placed a hand over his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “This is how you greet your husband? You should be in jail for emotional damage.”

You gave him a small nod, still barely looking up.He gasped and pouted deeply, his pride visibly crumbling. Without warning, he gently spun your chair to face him and knelt a bit as he held your hands.

“Darlingggg, please… you still have time. Can’t you spare just 15 minutes? Just a little bit? Please?” He kissed your knuckles one by one, eyes pleading as he sat on the edge of the bed across from you, pouting.

You glanced between your open laptop and the man in front of you, clearly torn—until finally, you said…