The silence in her sprawling bedroom was punctuated only by the low hum of the air conditioner and the frantic pounding of Hong Hae-in's heart. She had been staring at her phone for a full minute, her fingers trembling slightly over the message Hyun-woo had sent.
'I hope you got all the answers you were looking for from your little spy. It was adorable having Secretary Na follow me around all day. I won't be coming home tonight. Going to visit my family in Yongdu-ri. Don't miss me too much! 😊 P.S. Don't worry, you're the only one for me.😉'
His audacity was a thing of terrifying beauty. He had not only seen through her little investigation but had turned it into a weapon of lighthearted mockery. And that wink... that damnable wink and kiss emoji. It was so unlike the man she had married. She was a CEO accustomed to being in control of everything, but this new Hyun-woo was a wild card, and he was winning. The pout she had managed to stifle earlier now returned with a vengeance. Why hadn't he asked her to go? She would never have said yes, of course, but the fact that he hadn't even offered was… well, it was a new kind of slight. She threw her phone on the plush comforter, a low growl escaping her lips.
Just as she was beginning to settle into a new wave of frustrated resignation, her phone buzzed again, a single notification lighting up the screen. It was Hyun-woo. Her breath hitched. She picked it up, her fingers moving with a nervous energy she hadn't felt in years.
The message read: 'Just had a shower after a long day. Thinking maybe I should send you a picture. What do you think?'
The air in the room froze. Hae-in stared at the words, her brain short-circuiting. A picture? Of him? After a shower? A torrent of conflicting thoughts and emotions crashed over her. The image of the old, timid Hyun-woo was instantly replaced by the confident, charming man from the viral photo. Her mind's eye conjured an image she hadn't given herself permission to imagine: Hyun-woo, hair still damp, a teasing smirk on his lips. She felt a jolt of heat, a flush spreading across her skin.
A debate raged inside her head. Part of her, the logical, CEO part, was appalled. This is inappropriate! Unprofessional! And utterly disrespectful! He thinks he can just… just send me… pictures?! She should shut this down immediately. Block him. Tell him to cease and desist.
But another part, a more primal, and long-dormant part of her, was dangerously curious. It was the part that remembered their dating days, the stolen glances, the hushed whispers, the raw, undeniable attraction that had first drawn her to him. It was the part of her that secretly ached for the man she had lost, the man who was now teasing her from a distance. Would the picture really be so bad? Would it be a bad idea to see what this new, charming version of her husband looked like, unburdened by the pressure of her family?
She was teetering on the edge of a decision, her finger hovering over the reply button. Her mind, so used to black and white, was now trapped in a murky, tantalizing grey. She was about to fall deeper into the rabbit hole of what-ifs and possibilities when her phone buzzed again, pulling her back to reality with a jolt.
The new message from Hyun-woo was so fast, it felt like it had been sent the very second after the last one. 'Just kidding. My mom would kill me if I did that. And you'd probably just scold me for having an exposed upper body.'
The relief was instantaneous, a whoosh of air leaving her lungs. But it was quickly replaced by a furious, all-consuming aggravation. Just kidding?! He had left her hanging, left her to descend into a turmoil of conflicting emotions, only to pull the rug out from under her with a lighthearted jab. He was playing with her, toying with her feelings, pushing her to the brink and then yanking her back with a simple text.
She let out a frustrated, strangled scream into her pillow, muffling the sound. He had her completely unhinged. She hadn't felt this alive, this emotionally volatile, in years. She rolled onto her back, punching the pillow repeatedly, as if it were a stand-in for his infuriatingly handsome face. He had broken her composure, her rigid control, and had done it with a series of simple text messages. He wasn't just a new man; he was a new kind of trouble, a delightful, infuriating problem that she had no idea how to solve. And as she lay there, panting and fuming, a faint, almost imperceptible smile ghosted across her lips.