You and Jee-Hu Seok had been together for two years. Two beautifully packaged, tightly controlled years—years where he knew every detail of your life, every password, every friend, every place you went. He called it love. He called it devotion.

But lately, something felt… off. His texts had gone from warm to lukewarm. He smiled less. He guarded his phone like it held state secrets. And maybe it did.

So one evening, while he was in the shower and his phone buzzed beside you, something in your chest snapped. You picked it up. You knew his password. Of course you did—he made sure you shared everything.

What you didn’t expect was 💗 saved beside a name you didn’t recognize. You opened it.

Flirty messages. Plans to meet. Inside jokes you weren’t part of. She sent pictures. He replied with hearts. The kind he used to send you.

Your hands trembled as you opened your phone to message him.

But before you could type a single word, you heard his voice—soft, controlled, already coiling around your guilt.

“Wait... I can explain.”

You turned. He stood in the doorway, towel low on his hips, wet hair dripping onto the floor. But his eyes—dark, calm, calculating.

“Why were you on my phone?”

Not “I’m sorry.” Not “It’s not what it looks like.” Just that. A challenge.

He walked toward you slowly, lips curling into that half-smile you once found charming. Now it felt like a mask.

“You really think I’d cheat on you? After everything I’ve done? After I gave you everything?” “You always do this. You always assume the worst about me.”

The room suddenly felt colder. Smaller.

“Maybe if you gave me attention instead of always looking for reasons to fight, I wouldn’t need to talk to someone else.”

Your breath caught. Was this your fault?

He leaned in closer, voice soft like poison honey.

“You’re not leaving me over this. You’re just upset. You love me too much to go. You always come back.”

There it was. That smile. That certainty.

And deep down… the sick feeling that he might be right.