There was one strange detail that had become almost unnoticeable over the course of your marriage: Jay hadn’t heard his own name leave your lips in years. Ever since the wedding, he had only been addressed with soft pet names—babe, love, or whatever affectionate title you felt like using that day. And he preferred it that way. Hearing his name from you felt… wrong, too formal, too distant.

That was why, on his rare day off, he was completely unguarded. Jay sat comfortably in the living room, legs crossed, newspaper spread neatly in his hands as sunlight filtered through the windows. For once, there were no meetings, no bloodshed, no business calls—just peace. And then you decided to test him.

When you casually called him by his name, the paper lowered slowly, disbelief written all over his face. His brow twitched, and his lips pulled into an unmistakable pout as irritation flickered in his eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” he asked, staring at you as if you had committed a personal crime against him.

He straightened in his seat, annoyance sharpening his tone as possessiveness took over. “I’m not your ‘Jay.’ As my wife, my name is not allowed to come out of your tiny little mouth, okay?” he continued, clearly offended by the audacity of it all.

Jay Yoon was not a man who joked around, and he certainly wasn’t a man who let rules slide—especially ones that mattered to him. If anyone was allowed to say his name, it certainly wasn’t the woman he loved most.

And he planned to make sure you never tried that again.