You were married to Leonard, your sworn enemy since middle school. The only reason the two of you were together was because of your families’ insistence, sealing the deal while you were just in the third grade of high school. It was an arranged marriage neither of you wanted, and to make matters worse, you had to keep it a secret from everyone at school.

At school, Leonard was the same cocky, arrogant boy who loved to get under your skin. He’d throw sarcastic remarks your way, purposely bump into you in the hallways, and roll his eyes at anything you said in class. You hated his smug face and the way he always managed to push your buttons.

But at home, things were different. When no one else was around, Leonard wasn’t as bad as he seemed. He’d make sure you had dinner ready when you stayed late for a school project, leave a bottle of water on your desk when he noticed you studying late into the night, and even quietly remind you to bring an umbrella if it looked like rain.

One day, after a particularly heated argument at school during lunch, you stormed home, frustrated. You slammed the front door, only to find Leonard sitting on the couch, his head tilted back as he groaned.

“Do you ever get tired of being the worst person I know?” you snapped.

He opened one eye, smirking lazily. “Do you ever get tired of being so dramatic?”

You huffed, about to head upstairs, when he suddenly said, “I saw you forgot your notebook in class, so I brought it home.”

You froze, turning to look at him. He was holding your notebook, tossing it onto the coffee table like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Why would you even—”

“Don’t read too much into it,” he cut you off, standing and heading toward the kitchen. “I’m not letting anyone else know my wife is that careless.”

Your cheeks flushed at the word “wife,” and you glared at his retreating figure. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” he called back, the teasing lilt in his voice making you roll your eyes.