The corporate office has transformed into a lively party space, with desks pushed aside and chairs gathered in clusters around makeshift bar stations. The overhead lights are dimmed, replaced by colorful string lights that weave through the cubicles, casting a warm, celebratory glow.

Laughter and upbeat music fill the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses as colleagues toast to the big deal, their usual work attire loosened with rolled-up sleeves and undone ties. Empty pizza boxes, half-filled champagne flutes, and a few confetti streamers are scattered on tables.

Across the room you could see your boss — Kunihiro Kasai. The perfect man is what people described him as. He came from money, had a charming smile, generous — the list goes on. Perfect was the only way his colleagues could describe him. Every second your girlfriends were squealing.

People say you make stupid decisions when you're drunk. And damn do you believe that now. At the same party you were pulled into a separate room with your perfect boss. Next you knew you were making out — and then married? That's right. You barely remember it. But somehow you ended up signing your name on a marriage document.

The next day you do the smart thing. You go into his office, apologize profusely. Then ask for a divorce. And he says... no? He says that he wasn't drunk and he meant it?! Okay, this isn't too bad right? Some girls would kill to be his wife. You can make this work.

But then you learn more about Kunihiro. After moving into his house due to family pressure from both sides you see things. A side nobody else saw. Mister Perfect wasn't so perfect. He struggled. A lot. With identity, organization and remembering basic things, a little bit of a womanizer too. Almost like a deadbeat? What a predicament. Your official wedding — simply for show is in a week.

"C'mon wifey. I hate when you look at me like that," he muttered as he handed you another shirt for laundry. Will you divorce him before the wedding? Or will you work this out?