The light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden. Nana's internal clock woke her at 5:30 AM as always—years of early rising to make breakfast had trained her body well.
She blinked awake slowly, awareness coming in gentle waves. Warmth. Safety. And wrapped around her like a human octopus, still deeply asleep, was her husband.
Zayne had his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, face buried against her shoulder, one leg thrown over hers, pinning her completely to the bed. He made a small, contented sound in his sleep—almost a purr—and somehow managed to hold her even tighter.
Cute, Nana thought, smiling. He's so cute like this.
This was a side of him that still surprised her.
Dr. Li, the stoic cardiac surgeon, the man with the cold reputation who made nurses nervous—turned into an absolute cuddle monster in the mornings. He would cling to her like a teddy bear, mumbling incoherently if she tried to leave, completely unwilling to let go until he was fully awake.
She tried to wiggle free carefully, planning to start breakfast.
Zayne's arms tightened immediately. "No," he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. "Stay."
"I need to make breakfast—"
"Don't care. Stay."
Before she could protest further, he smoothly rolled them over—suddenly she was on her back and he was using her chest as a pillow, his full weight pressing her into the mattress, arms wrapped around her waist.
"Zayne!" she laughed, trying to push at his shoulders. "You're heavy!"
"Mm. Comfortable." He nuzzled against her, breathing deeply. "You smell good. Like jasmine. And you're soft. Perfect pillow."
"I'm not a pillow—
"Best pillow," he corrected, completely unbothered by her protests. "Warm. Soft. Smells nice. Makes cute sounds when I—" He pressed a lazy kiss to the exposed skin of her collarbone, making her squeak. "—do that."
"We need to get up—"
"Weekend," he mumbled against her skin. "No hospital. No schedule. Just this."
Nana sighed, but she was smiling. He was right—it was Saturday, they had nowhere to be until his afternoon conference, and honestly, lying here with him like this wasn't exactly a hardship.
"Fine," she surrendered, running her fingers through his hair. "We can stay here a bit longer."
"Mm. Good wife." He settled more comfortably against her, like a very large, very satisfied cat.
They lay like that for a while, Zayne drifting in and out of sleep while Nana played with his hair, watching the sunlight paint patterns on the ceiling. He'd occasionally press soft kisses to whatever skin was closest—her collarbone, her shoulder, her neck—little unconscious gestures of affection that made her heart warm.
Eventually, he stirred more deliberately, lifting his head to look at her with sleepy eyes.
"Good morning," she said softly.
"Good morning." He leaned up to kiss her forehead, then her nose, then her lips—soft, sweet morning kisses. Then his expression shifted slightly, becoming more focused. "How do you feel?"
"I feel fine," she said, confused.
"Are you sore?" His voice was gentle but serious, doctor voice creeping in.
"From last night? I wasn't too—I didn't hurt you?"
Her face immediately flamed red. Even after months of marriage, even after countless nights together, these morning-after check-ins still made her want to hide.
"I'm fine!" She tried to cover her burning face with her hands. "You didn't hurt me! Stop asking!"
"I'm just making sure—"
"I know you're making sure but it's embarrassing—"
"Why is it embarrassing? I'm your husband—
"That doesn't make it LESS embarrassing!"
She grabbed a pillow, covering her face. "Stop teasing me!"
Zayne laughed—actually laughed, warm and genuine—and pulled the pillow away so he could see her flustered expression. "You're adorable when you blush."
"I hate you."
"No you don't." He kissed her red cheeks. "You love me."
"Unfortunately " She muttered, but she was smiling.
He grinned and rolled off her finally, stretching like a satisfied cat. "Breakfast? I'll help."
"You'll watch," she corrected, getting up. "Your 'help' usually involves me redoing everything."
"I'm learning!"
"You're a disaster in the kitchen."
"I'm a brilliant surgeon—"
"Surgery and cooking are different skills!"
He followed her to the kitchen, and she was right—he mostly watched while she cooked, occasionally stealing bites or wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing kisses to her neck until she swatted him away with a spatula.
This was their routine now. Their life. Their perfect, imperfect, beautifully domestic life together.
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The medical conference that afternoon was being held at one of Linkon's largest convention centers. Zayne had been invited to present his latest cardiac research—something about new surgical techniques that Nana didn't entirely understand but was incredibly proud of anyway.
"You look very professional," she said, adjusting his tie in their bedroom before they left.
"I look the same as always."
"No, you look extra handsome today." She smiled up at him. "All those nurses are going to faint when you walk on stage."
"I don't care about the nurses." He caught her hands, holding them against his chest.
"I only care about one person in that audience."
"Your mentor?"
"You, obviously."
She blushed, pleased. "Mina and Jisu are coming too. For moral support."
"For the drama," he corrected. "They're coming to watch the infamous Dr. Li's fangirls lose their minds."
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The convention center was packed.
Apparently, Dr. Zayne Li's presentations were highly anticipated events in the medical community—his research was groundbreaking, his surgical techniques innovative, and yes, the fact that he was attractive didn't hurt attendance numbers.
Nana found seats in the middle section with Mina and Jisu, who were taking in the scene with wide eyes.
"This is insane," Mina whispered, watching the crowd. "There are so many people here!"
"And they're all here for your husband," Jisu added, awed. "Look at that group in the front—they have a BANNER with his name on it!"
Sure enough, a group of what appeared to be medical students had created a banner that read "DR. LI WE LOVE YOUR RESEARCH!" with hearts drawn around his name.
"Are those—are those lightsticks?" Nana squinted at another group. "Like at a concert?"
"Oh my god they are," Mina gasped. "They're treating this like an idol appearance! This is amazing!"
Nana couldn't help but laugh. Her stoic, serious husband had inadvertent fangirls who treated his medical conferences like entertainment events. He would be so confused and slightly horrified if he realized.
The lights dimmed, and the moderator took the stage to introduce the speakers. When Zayne's name was called, the applause was thunderous—much louder than it had been for the previous presenters.
Zayne walked onto the stage in his element—professional, composed, every inch Dr. Li. He acknowledged the applause with a small nod, then launched into his presentation with the clinical precision he was known for.
Nana watched, mesmerized. This was so different from the Zayne she knew at home—the one who used her as a pillow, who stole bites of her cooking, who got flustered when she wore certain dresses. This was Dr. Li, brilliant and accomplished, commanding the room's attention with ease.
And then, in the middle of explaining a complex surgical procedure, his eyes scanned the audience. Found her. And for just a moment—just a heartbeat—his professional mask softened. A small smile appeared, just for her, and he gave a tiny wave that was probably imperceptible to anyone who wasn't looking for it.
Nana's heart melted.
"Did he just—" Jisu whispered.
"He totally just waved at her," Mina confirmed, grinning. "In the middle of his presentation. The famous stoic doctor just waved at his wife like a lovesick teenager."
Nana buried her face in her hands, embarrassed but pleased.
Near the end of his presentation, during the Q&A section, someone asked about work-life balance—how he managed such a demanding career while maintaining personal relationships.
He paused, seeming to consider the question. Then, in a move that surprised everyone, he gestured toward the audience.
"I'm fortunate," he said, his voice carrying clearly. "To have a wife who understands the demands of my work but also reminds me that life exists outside the hospital. She's here today, actually—" He pointed directly at Nana, and suddenly every head in the auditorium turned. "The woman in the blue dress, in the middle section. My wife, Nana."
Nana froze, completely mortified, as hundreds of eyes focused on her.
"She wakes up early to make me breakfast before long shifts," Zayne continued, completely unbothered by the attention he'd just directed at her. "She visits me at the hospital with homemade lunches. She reminds me to rest when I'm working too hard. She's the reason I remember that medicine is about people, not just procedures. So, to answer your question—work-life balance is possible when you have someone who makes the 'life' part worth coming home to."
The audience made collective "aww" sounds. The fangirls in the front looked torn between swooning over the romantic declaration and mourning that he was definitely, irreversibly taken.
Mina and Jisu were clutching each other, trying not to scream.
And Nana—Nana was simultaneously dying of embarrassment and feeling so loved she thought her heart might burst.
After the presentation, as people crowded around to ask Zayne questions and request photos, he kept glancing toward where Nana waited, making sure she was okay, silently communicating almost done, just a few more minutes.
"Your husband just publicly declared his love in front of hundreds of medical professionals," Mina said, grinning. "How does it feel?"
"Mortifying," Nana said, but she was smiling. "Wonderful. Mostly mortifying."
"He is so proud of you," Jisu observed. "Did you see his face when he talked about you? The cold Dr. Li completely disappeared. That was all Zayne, just absolutely gone for his wife."
"Yeah," Nana said softly, watching him across the room. He was answering someone's question about cardiac procedures, professional and composed again. But then his eyes found hers, and he smiled—that small, private smile that was only for her.
"Yeah, he really is."
On the way home, Zayne kept one hand on the wheel and the other holding Nana's hand.
"You embarrassed me," she said, but there was no heat in it.
"I know." He didn't sound sorry at all. "But I wanted everyone to know. That I'm married. That I'm completely off the market. That I'm—" He paused. "That I'm proud. Of you. Of us. Of the life we've built."
"The fangirls looked devastated."
"Good." He squeezed her hand. "Let there be no confusion. I'm taken. Completely, totally, irrevocably taken by the woman in the blue dress who makes me breakfast and reminds me to be human."
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm in love," he corrected. "There's a difference."
She laughed, soft and happy, and thought about how far they'd come. From that first awkward meeting to this—driving home together, his hand in hers, their life woven so completely together that she couldn't imagine it any other way.
"Zayne?" she said quietly.
"Mm?"
"I'm proud of you too. Of your research, your work, everything you do. You're amazing."
His hand tightened on hers. "Thank you. That—that means everything, coming from you."
They drove the rest of the way home in comfortable silence, both thinking about the life they'd built—the morning cuddles and the public declarations, the breakfast routines and the conference appearances, the private moments and the proud introductions.
All of it. Every piece. Every moment.
Their perfectly imperfect, beautifully real, chosen-every-day life together.
Forever.
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To be continued __