The knock at the door nearly gave me a heart attack.
For one glorious second, I thought it was hotel staff coming to drag Woo-jin out for disturbing the peace. Maybe they'd even toss him into the street for harassment. A man could dream.
But when I opened the door, I froze.
"Mom?"
There she was, standing in the doorway with two bulging grocery bags and that familiar smile that always cut through my defenses.
"Surprise, sweetheart!" she chirped. "I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd check in on you. You look thin. Have you been eating properly?"
I blinked, brain short-circuiting. "Uh—what—how—why are you here?"
"Honestly, Dae-hyun, do you expect your mother to make an appointment to see her own son?" She shoved past me like I was thin air, setting the bags down on the counter. "Your fridge is probably empty. Good thing I came prepared."
I closed the door, dragging a hand down my face. This couldn't be happening. Not today. Not after last night's disaster.
Still, maybe—just maybe—this was my chance even if it failed before.
I turned to her, desperate. "Mom, you won't believe what I've been going through. That man—Woo-jin—he's driving me insane."
She paused halfway through unpacking, lifting an eyebrow. "Driving you insane? You always say that but in what way?"
I let it all out in a rush. "He followed me here. He switched my suitcase so I'd end up with his clothes instead of mine. He keeps calling me honeybear in public, embarrassing me in front of everyone, and last night—last night he cornered me in this very room and said I could never escape him!"
Her expression softened, and I braced myself for sympathy. For outrage. For the righteous anger of a mother ready to fight for her son.
Instead, she sighed dreamily. "Ayoo… so romantic."
I almost choked. "What?"
"Chasing after you, refusing to give up, staying by your side no matter what… That's true love, Dae-hyun. You should be grateful!"
"Grateful?" My voice cracked. "Mom, he's a lunatic! I hate all omegas and you know it."
She tutted, shaking her head. "Omegas these days are lazy. They don't commit. But yours—he's devoted! He even followed you all the way here. How sweet is that?"
I wanted to bang my head against the wall. "It's not sweet! It's suffocating!"
"Oh, you young people," she said, waving me off like I was being dramatic. "Always mistaking passion for madness. I think it's wonderful."
Before I could argue further, the door opened again.
And he walked in...
Kang Woo-jin. Pink hair gleaming, eyes lit up, a grin splitting his face the moment he saw us.
"Mother!" he exclaimed, striding forward with the confidence of a man stepping onto a red carpet. He took the bags from her hands like they were heavy treasures. "You shouldn't be carrying so much. Let me help."
Mom's face practically glowed. "Oh, what a good boy! So polite, so thoughtful!"
I stared, horrified, as Woo-jin shot me a wink over her shoulder.
Woo-jin moved around the tiny kitchen like he'd lived there his whole life, sleeves rolled up, hair shining like some infuriating shampoo commercial. He unpacked vegetables, washed fruit, and even took the liberty of tying on one of my aprons.
"Mother, why don't you sit? I'll handle lunch," he said with the kind of confidence that should be illegal.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly let you—" Mom began.
"Nonsense," Woo-jin cut in smoothly, pulling out a chair for her. "A queen like you deserves to be pampered."
Her laugh was light, delighted. She sat down, patting his hand like he was already part of the family.
I stood in the corner, sputtering. "Excuse me, this is my apartment. Shouldn't I—"
"Shh." Mom waved me off, eyes sparkling as she watched Woo-jin slice vegetables like he was auditioning for a cooking show. "Don't interrupt your husband while he's being perfect."
My jaw nearly hit the floor. "Perfect?! He switched my suitcase, Mom!"
Woo-jin shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. "Pure accident. I must've been too sleepy while packing, honeybear."
"Don't you dare—"
Mom gasped, clutching her chest. "Honeybear?!"
Heat flooded my face. "It's not—"
"Oh, that's adorable," she gushed, hands clasped like she'd just witnessed a wedding proposal. "He even has a cute, lovely couple name for you!"
I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself alive. "Mom, it's humiliating."
"It's romantic," she corrected firmly.
Woo-jin winked at her. "Thank you, Mother. At least someone appreciates me."
I swore my blood pressure spiked.
He moved with practiced grace, humming softly as he set rice to cook and stirred vegetables in the pan. The smell filled the room, warm and inviting, and even I hated to admit—it looked good.
Mom watched him with stars in her eyes. "You're such a good cook! Do you always make meals for Dae-hyun?"
"Whenever he lets me," Woo-jin said smoothly, sending me another pointed glance. "Usually, he insists on doing everything himself. He doesn't like to rely on me."
Mom frowned at me. "Dae-hyun, that's terrible! You shouldn't push him away when he wants to take care of you."
I threw my hands up. "Are you kidding me right now?"
Woo-jin placed steaming dishes on the table like a magician pulling off a grand reveal. "Lunch is served. Please, Mother, eat as much as you like."
She dug in happily, eyes practically tearing up at the taste. "Oh, this is wonderful. You're talented, Woo-jin. My son is lucky to have you."
I almost choked on my water. "Lucky? I'm the victim here!"
Mom shot me a sharp look. "Victim? Stop being dramatic. He clearly adores you. Look at all this effort!"
Woo-jin leaned on his hand, smirking at me across the table. "She's right, honeybear. You really are lucky."
I kicked him under the table. He didn't even flinch—just grinned wider, stealing a piece of chicken off my plate.
I was going to lose my mind.
By the time lunch ended, I was convinced the universe had cursed me.
Woo-jin had charmed my mother so thoroughly, she was practically glowing. Every time he opened his mouth, she gasped, laughed, or praised him. Every time I tried to point out his flaws, she shut me down faster than a broken elevator.
When he offered to wash the dishes, she nearly cried. "Such a thoughtful son-in-law. Dae-hyun, you better treat him right."
I nearly choked on my tea. "Treat him right?! Mom, he stalked me here! He's been tormenting me since the wedding!"
Woo-jin looked up from the sink with mock sadness in his eyes. "Tormenting? Honeybear, you wound me."
I jabbed a finger at him. "Don't call me—"
Mom slapped my hand down. "Don't be rude! It's a sweet nickname. You're just embarrassed because he loves you so much."
My soul left my body.
Woo-jin dried his hands, strolling over with all the arrogance of a man who knew he'd won. He placed a gentle hand on Mom's shoulder, his smile soft and warm. "Mother, don't worry. I'll take care of him no matter how many times he tries to push me away."
Her eyes shimmered with emotion. "You're such a good man. Truly devoted." She turned to me, her expression sharpening. "And you—stop being ungrateful. Men like this don't come around twice."
My mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "Ungrateful?!"
"Exactly," she snapped. "Do you know how many alphas wished their husbands would chase them, cook for them, and love them this much? You should count your blessings instead of whining!"
Woo-jin's hand slid down, brushing mine under the table. His lips curled into a sly smirk only I could see. "Listen to your mother, honeybear."
I yanked my hand back like it burned.
When Mom finally stood to leave, she hugged Woo-jin tightly, patting his back like he was her own son. "You take good care of my boy, Woo-jin."
"Always," he murmured, voice dripping with sincerity.
Then she turned to me, eyes narrowing in warning. "Don't you dare let this man go, Dae-hyun. He's perfect for you."
I almost collapsed on the spot. "Mom—!"
But she was already walking out the door, waving cheerfully. "See you soon, lovebirds!"
The moment it shut behind her, I spun on Woo-jin, rage boiling in my chest. "You—you manipulative, conniving—"
He cut me off with a chuckle, stepping close enough that his breath ghosted my cheek. "What's wrong, honeybear? Upset, your own mother likes me more than you do?"
My fists clenched. "This isn't a game, Woo-jin."
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Of course it isn't. It's our marriage."
And just like that, his grin widened—teasing, smug, utterly infuriating.
I wanted to scream.
The door had barely clicked shut before I whirled on Woo-jin.
"You—!" My finger jabbed at his chest, but my words jammed in my throat, tangled up in rage. "You… you snake in human skin!"
He blinked innocently, as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Snake? That's new. Usually you call me a leech, a parasite, or the devil's leftover mistake."
"Don't act like this is funny!" I snapped, stomping toward the table just so I wouldn't strangle him. "You turned my own mother against me! She thinks you're some kind of romantic saint!"
Woo-jin's smile is curved, wicked and lazy. "Well, I am. Just… selectively. Only for you."
My hand twitched. "Don't you dare—"
"Dare what? Love you openly? Win your mother's approval? Be the perfect husband you keep pretending you don't want?" He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. The smugness radiating off him made my blood boil.
"You're… you're….too much…to handle.."
"And yet," he drawled, tilting his head, "you still haven't divorced me."
I went stiff. My throat closed up.
Woo-jin's smirk deepened when he saw the crack in my armor. He pushed off the wall and strolled closer, slow, deliberate, every step sending warning bells through my head. By the time he stopped, he was so close I could see the tiny flecks of gold in his blue eyes.
"Your mom adores me," he murmured, voice dropping. "Your coworkers know about us. The whole neighborhood will probably ship us by now." His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he leaned in, whisper-soft. "Face it, honeybear. You're stuck with me."
I shoved him back, heat crawling up my neck. "You're delusional. The only thing I'm stuck with is a lovesick puppy who doesn't understand the word no."
Woo-jin's laugh rang out, low and amused. "Puppy, huh?" His eyes glinted with something sharp. "Careful, Dae-hyun. Even puppies bite when ignored for too long."
The way he said it—light, teasing, but edged like glass—made my stomach knot.
I turned away before he could see the shiver that ran through me. "Get out of my apartment."
But he didn't move. Instead, he chuckled again, softer this time, and I felt his presence settle against my back like a shadow I couldn't shake.
"Sweetheart," he said, almost gentle. "You'll miss me when I'm gone."
And for the first time that day, I wasn't sure if it was a joke.