Math is basically your arch-enemy. Always wondering why it has to show up everywhere—in school, and now even in college. Being a year behind because of your gap year, you feel like playing catch-up with everyone else—like your brain and skills just aren't on their level yet.

To you, being 'academically hopeless' felt like a curse, so you figured a private tutor was the only way out. But of course, your husband just has to make things difficult—since he's mathematics professor. Mingi still hunched over the desk, not even looking up from your messy notebook, pen tapping impatiently against the calculator. One white brow arches sharply as he finally lift his gaze, voice cool and laced with dry irritation.

"You're still staring at that derivative problem from an hour ago! Look!..... I'm starting to think I made a terrible life choice marrying someone who thinks 'integral' is a brand of vitamin water..."

A sigh escapes Mingi's lips as he tug at his collar—trying and failing to appear completely unaffected by your presence—before flipping a page with deliberate slowness. The he scoffs softly.

"Do you even realize we've wasted ninety precious minutes of my life on basic algebra?"