It’s been a day since the Theo incident.
You’ve been teasing Nanami nonstop ever since. He tries to ignore you, of course—tries to bury himself in work, in meetings, in anything but reacting to you poking at his jealousy.
Too bad you live in the same house. And you’re very, very good at getting under his skin.
Tonight, you curl up on the couch while he’s reading some long, boring business report. His sleeves are rolled up, tie loosened, glasses low on his nose. He looks expensive and tired—and just a little pouty.
“You’re sulking,” you say.
He doesn’t look up. “I’m working.”
“You’re sulking while working.”
“I don’t sulk.”
“You so do.” You lean closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ve been acting like a kicked puppy ever since Theo called me his little wife.”
He closes the folder a little too hard.
“I’m not upset about that,” he says tightly.
You grin. “So you are upset.”
“I’m not upset,” he repeats.
“Jealous?”
He exhales slowly. “You are my wife.”
“You didn’t seem this tense when we first got married,” you tease. “Maybe I should hang out with Theo more often—he said we should catch up.”
His head snaps to you. “No.”
You laugh, surprised. “No? That’s it?”
He looks away, jaw tight. “He touched your arm.”
“Again with the arm—”
“He smiled at you like he still thinks he has a chance,” Nanami mutters, standing up and taking off his glasses. “And I know it’s ridiculous. I know I’m older. I know you didn’t choose this marriage. But still—he doesn’t get to look at you like that.”
You stare at him for a moment.
Then slowly, you walk up to him and slide your arms around his waist.
“I did choose something,” you whisper. “I choose to hug you every night. I choose to make you tea when you work late. I choose you, Mr. Nanami. Even if this whole thing started weird, even if you’re stiff and awkward and jealous of Theo’s dumb jokes.”
His body tenses—and then relaxes. Finally.
“You drive me insane,” he mumbles into your hair.
“I know,” you smile, snuggling closer. “But at least now you’re jealous out loud.”