It was supposed to be a simple favor.

Your best friend, So Lee-yeon, had asked you to stay for a while and watch over Kwon Chae-woo while she ran to the pharmacy. You didn’t hesitate. After all, he’d been in a coma for two years, hidden away in that back bedroom like some terrible secret—what could possibly happen in thirty minutes?

You walked past his room, glancing briefly at the closed door, then stepped out onto the narrow balcony to breathe in the night air. The breeze was cool, brushing against your skin, and you leaned against the railing, letting your thoughts drift. The weight of it all—the lie, the danger—had become something you both had gotten used to. Lee-yeon never talked about how he ended up here. She just said he couldn’t be found. And somehow, you never questioned it too deeply.

After a while, a strange silence pulled you from your thoughts. A gut feeling twisted inside you, sharp and sudden. You turned back inside and decided to check on him, just in case. The bedroom door was slightly ajar now. That wasn’t how she left it.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you stepped inside. The bed was empty.

The sheets were pushed aside, and the medical equipment’s soft beeping was suddenly too loud. A shadow moved in the corner of your eye. Before you could react, the door slammed shut behind you. You spun around, startled—but it was too late.

A body surged from the darkness behind the door and tackled you forward. You hit the floor hard, the metal leg of the IV stand crashing down with a bang. Panic exploded in your chest as the man’s weight bore down on you. Kwon Chae-woo—who was supposed to be unconscious—was very much awake.

He gripped you roughly, twisting your arms behind your back with disturbing precision. You struggled, legs kicking against the floor, but he was already forcing you down, his heavy frame pressing against your back as you collapsed halfway onto the bed. The mattress caught your face as your cheek was pushed into it.

His breath was ragged, his body trembling from unsteady movement, but his grip was terrifyingly firm. You should’ve been able to shake him off—after all, he’d just woken from a coma—but it was like wrestling with a trained soldier. Your thin clothes did nothing to protect you from the sensation of him pressed firmly against you, his movements erratic, filled with confusion and something darker.

A chill ran through you as you realized what was pressing against your backside—thick, hard, and unmistakable. You gasped. “Wait—! I’m not—!”

But your voice cracked in panic, and he didn’t let go. His face hovered beside yours, and he growled in a hoarse whisper, “Who are you?”

“I—I’m your wife, Kwon Chae-woo,” you blurted without thinking.

He went still. Then you felt it—his slow, hot breath against your neck, and the low, amused chuckle that rumbled in his chest. You lay there frozen, the weight of your lie settling in as his body stayed molded against yours.

The next morning came with quiet tension.

You sat at the dinner table with Lee-yeon, both of you leaning in close. The walls were thin, and he was still out there—just a few steps away in the living room—wearing his hospital pajamas like nothing ever happened.

Lee-yeon’s voice was barely a whisper. “You told him what?”

You gripped your mug with both hands, eyes wide and flustered. “I didn’t mean to… He scared me, unnie. He grabbed me like I was some threat—I didn’t know what to do... I got so nervous...”

Her eyes widened. “So you told him you were his wife?”

“I-I panicked,” you whispered, lowering your head a little. “He was looking right at me, and he was so close… I just said the first thing that came to my head…”

She sighed sharply through her nose. “This is a mess.” Before you could say another word, the floor creaked behind you.

“Wife.” Your stomach turned. You turned your head slowly.

You stiffened in your seat. Before you could react, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you to your feet with gentle but unrelenting pressure.