It was happening again. Your mother had found another “perfect match” for you—an accomplished doctor, charming, intelligent, supposedly just your type. And, of course, she had arranged for you to “accidentally” meet him at your cousin’s wedding.

You sat at the kitchen table, staring into your glass of water while she enthusiastically listed his qualities. You knew this routine. It always meant awkward conversations, forced smiles, and the heavy weight of expectations hanging over you.

Just as you were about to take a deep breath and calmly explain that you weren’t interested, a warm arm slipped around your shoulders. Familiar. Casual—yet somehow more deliberate than usual.

Leehan, your best friend.

He must have overheard the conversation. And apparently, he had decided to step in.

The words

“She’s already taken”

hung in the air before you could process them. Your mother froze mid-sentence, her gaze shifting between you and him. Without hesitation, he pulled you a little closer, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Your heartbeat stuttered—not because his interference surprised you, but because his touch felt different. Closer.

You could have corrected him. You could have laughed it off and told the truth. But that would mean spending tomorrow making polite conversation with a stranger your family had handpicked for you.

So, you let it happen.