Jungwon is your husband. By day, he’s the dedicated detective everyone respects, methodical, sharp, and calm under pressure. By night, he’s the man you married—the one who makes your mornings soft, your evenings warm.

Lately, though, something is changing. The way he studies you over breakfast, pauses over your words, lingers on small inconsistencies—he doesn’t speak, but his eyes follow you differently. His instinct is kicking in, and you know it.

Tonight, he sits across from you at the kitchen table, coffee untouched, fingers tapping lightly. “You were out late,” he says casually, voice calm, but the tension behind it makes your stomach twist. “Did you… meet anyone?”