The next morning, I woke up praying for silence — for one day where Kang Woo-jin wouldn't breathe down my neck like a bored ghost. Instead, I found him everywhere. When I went to the kitchen to pour myself coffee, he was already sitting at the counter, legs crossed, sipping orange juice like he owned the place.
I carried my mug to the couch, hoping to read in peace, but he followed, plopping down right next to me even though the whole sofa was empty. I shifted a seat away; he scooted closer.
I flipped a page; he hummed off-key until my eye twitched.
When I got up to grab my phone from the other room, I heard his footsteps trailing right behind me, light and deliberate, like a child playing shadow games.
Even when I locked myself in the bathroom, he lingered outside, knocking softly on the door every two minutes with some ridiculous excuse — "Honeybear, do you need more toilet paper? Honeybear, should I sing you a song while you're in there? Honeybear, I miss you." By the time I came out, my patience had been scraped raw, my nerves frayed so badly I could barely think straight.
Like does he not have work or what? I will use this as an excuse to find a way to divorce him.
But anyways.
Finally, after an hour of his relentless presence, I snapped. "What the hell do you want?"
He blinked at me innocently, that damn smirk tugging at his lips. "A kiss."
I froze. "Excuse me?"
"Simple deal." He leaned back in his chair like a king making a decree. "You kiss me, and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day."
"You're insane."
"Mm, maybe," he said lightly. "But you're desperate. Come on, honeybear. One kiss, and poof — I disappear."
I should've ignored him. Should've stormed off. But my patience had already burned to ash. With a growl of frustration, I grabbed his collar, leaned in, and pressed my lips to his — quick, hard, merciless.
The smug bastard actually froze for half a second. Then he smiled into the kiss, the nerve of him, like he'd won the lottery.
I pulled back immediately, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "There. Done. Happy?"
He touched his lips, eyes glittering. "Hmm… that was more like an attack. But I'll take it."
"I feel sick," I muttered, storming away.
Behind me, Woo-jin called cheerfully, "Don't worry, honeybear — you'll get better with practice!"
I slammed the bedroom door so hard a frame rattled on the wall, heart pounding with equal parts fury and… something else I refused to name.
As days passed by, he started to annoy me again.
The moment Woo-jin followed me into the kitchen humming for the fourth time that morning, I snapped.
"I've had it," I barked, slamming my coffee cup down so hard that some spilled. "I'm divorcing you."
He blinked, mid-hum, and then smiled as if I'd just said we were going on vacation. "Oh? Where to? Should I pack light?"
"Not where. What. Divorce. I'm filing."
"Ahhh." He nodded solemnly, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Divorce. Such a scary word. You'll never go through with it. Divorce me, if you can."
"Watch me."
I yanked him into the car, slamming the door shut before speeding off toward my parents' place. The whole ride, my pulse thudded in my ears, every second stretching my patience thinner.
When I finally stepped inside, the scene waiting for me only fueled my irritation—my mother sat comfortably in the living room, sipping her coffee and leisurely flipping through the newspaper. Her calm, unbothered demeanor was the exact opposite of the chaos boiling inside me. Of course, I thought bitterly, she gets to enjoy her morning while I'm the one dragging disasters around.
I dragged Woo-jin by the wrist into my mother's living room. She looked up from her newspaper, startled. "What's going on now?"
I thrust Woo-jin forward like a piece of evidence in a trial. "I want a divorce. I can't live like this anymore!"
My mother's eyes widened. "What? Already? What happened?"
"What happened? He happens! Every day, every hour, every second!" I threw my hands in the air. "He follows me around like a parasite! He sits in my face when I try to read! He knocks on the bathroom door every two minutes just to tell me he misses me!"
Woo-jin stepped forward, clutching his chest dramatically. "Because I do miss him, Mother. What if he slipped? What if he fainted? I'd never forgive myself. Isn't that what a caring wife does?"
"See?" I gestured wildly. "He's unbearable!"
But my mother softened, patting his arm. "Awhh…. Such a thoughtful son-in-law. My devil is lucky."
I nearly choked. "Lucky?! Mom, he's suffocating me!"
Woo-jin lowered his head, faking a wounded look so convincing I wanted to strangle him. "I just… I know I'm not perfect. But I love him so much I can't help myself." He looked up at my mom with big, pitiful eyes. "Is it so wrong to love him too much?"
"Of course not," she said firmly. Then she turned on me. "How could you even think of divorcing such a devoted husband? Do you know how many women would kill for a man like this?"
"Take him then!" I exploded. "Please!"
My mom gasped. "Don't be ridiculous. Woo-jin is yours." She smiled fondly at him. "Forever."
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Meanwhile, Woo-jin turned his head slightly, just enough so only I could see the smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"Strike one, honeybear," he whispered.
I clenched my fists. "This isn't over."
"Good," he whispered back, grin widening. "I like when you keep trying."
My fists clenched at my sides. "You're insufferable."
Woo-jin just leaned back, legs crossed, looking too damn comfortable in my mother's living room. "Mmm. And yet…" His grin curved wider, cocky and infuriating. "…you keep chasing me with divorce papers. I like it when you don't give up. It makes life exciting."
"I'm not playing, Woo-jin," I growled. "I don't want you. Not now, not ever."
He tilted his head, studying me like I was some amusing puzzle. "Funny. You keep saying that, but you haven't left me yet."
"I tried today. You turned my own mom against me!"
"Ah," he said, tapping his chin like he was proud. "Charm is a curse, really. People just like me."
I glared, chest heaving. "You're not charming. You're manipulative."
He leaned in, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "And you're fun when you're angry. Keep trying, honeybear. I'll still be here when you fail the second time. And the third."
Later that night, back at our apartment, I locked myself in the bedroom.
It didn't matter. Woo-jin's voice drifted through the door, infuriatingly cheerful:
"Goodnight, honeybear. Sleep tight. Dream of me. Tomorrow, let's have round two — I'll even dress up for the occasion."
I buried my face into the pillow and groaned. One thing was certain: if this went on, I'd either strangle him… or strangle myself.
You know what. I'll just strangle myself right now.