Chapter 49

The morning light bled gently through the curtains, golden and soft as it brushed against my face. I opened my eyes slowly, savoring the calm. For once, no heaviness clung to me as I woke.

I pushed myself up against the pillows, stretching languidly. The sheets were cool, faintly carrying the trace of perfume. A quiet smile tugged at my lips.

Across the room, Haemin was already awake, standing before the mirror, fumbling slightly as he fastened his tie. Our reflections met for a brief moment in the glass, and I found myself simply watching him struggle. The thought of him going to the office with me every day made my smile deepen just a little.

I slid from the bed and walked toward him. “You’re up early,” I murmured, my voice calm, though my eyes lingered on him.

He startled faintly before giving me a quick, awkward smile. “I… didn’t want to be late.”

A quiet smile tugged at my lips.

I reached forward, brushing his hands aside, and fixed his tie myself. My fingers lingered longer than necessary, smoothing the fabric, adjusting, tugging, until I was satisfied. He stood still, his breath catching in that way I found unbearably endearing.

When the tie sat neatly against his collar, my hand drifted upward, tracing his cheek. My fingers brushed the spot where a bruise had once marred his skin. It was gone now, faded completely, but I remembered. I remembered what I had done.

I pressed my palm more gently against him, as though confirming its absence. “Good,” I murmured, almost to myself. “It’s healed.”

He swallowed but said nothing.

My touch slipped higher, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Since I was taller than him, it felt natural to tilt his head just slightly beneath my hand, arranging him as I pleased.

Finally, I stepped back with a faint smile. “You’ll go ahead first,” I told him calmly. “It’s your first day—you should arrive before me. Harin will be waiting.”

He nodded and gave me a warm, genuine smile. “Then… I’ll go ahead.”

He turned toward the door, but just before he could leave, I reached out and caught his wrist.

“Wait.”

I pulled him back toward me, closing the distance in a single breath, and pressed my lips to his.

This time, I didn’t rush. The kiss lingered, slow at first, then deepened as I tilted my head, holding him firmly in place. His body tensed, but he didn’t resist. He accepted me, as he always did. The warmth of his lips against mine spread through me, filling me completely.

I let the moment stretch, lingering in the closeness, until I felt his breath catch against mine.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice breathless, “Yuna… I’ll be late.”

A soft sigh escaped me, gentle against his lips. Reluctantly, I let him go, though my gaze lingered on his face, watching the faint blush bloom across his cheeks.

He turned his face away too quickly, embarrassed, and that alone made me smile.

Then he walked out, leaving the faint echo of his steps behind.

It was only after the door closed that I realized—I’d forgotten to tell him what position he would be taking. Well, I’m sure Harin could handle the details.

______

The sleek black sedan rolled to a stop at the main entrance of Nara Group headquarters. The moment the vehicle halted, two security guards stepped forward, bowing low as one of them pulled open the door.

The door opened with a precise gesture from security, and I stepped out into the morning light. Immediately, a wave of movement followed—everybody bowing in perfect unison.

Their tone carried reverence, fear, respect—whatever it was they felt, it barely registered to me. Their bowing meant nothing to me.

Because the moment my eyes swept past them, I found the only person I was looking for.

There he was—my husband.

Standing beside Harin, bowing politely with that calm expression that made him look so composed, yet I could read the slight stiffness in his shoulders. He was holding himself together, but I knew better. I could sense the storm swirling behind his calm eyes even if no one else could.

The urge to cross the distance, to take his hand and draw him to my side where he belonged, was almost unbearable.

But reality was merciless.

So I kept walking, my expression composed, unreadable. Only my eyes betrayed me, flicking toward him for a brief second before turning away.

Still, the sight of him standing beside Harin, it gnawed at me. She was the only one I trusted to manage him here, yes, but trust did not erase the faint sting in my chest. My fingers flexed against my palm, nails pressing lightly into my skin.

“Tch.” The sound escaped before I could stop it, low enough that no one else would notice.

Harin moved smoothly to my side, her tone professional as she began reciting the day’s schedule. I gave a short nod, my eyes fixed ahead, though my mind was elsewhere.

When we reached the private elevator, Harin pressed the button with her usual composure, waiting in silence. The executives stopped a respectful distance behind us, bowing lightly once more in acknowledgment.

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside. Silence hung heavy in the confined space.

Our eyes briefly met in the mirrored wall, but I forced myself to look down before I lost control of the calm I had been holding. When the doors opened again, staff were already waiting, bowing low.

I walked past without pause, Harin gliding smoothly at my side, with Haemin trailing a single step behind.

At last, we arrived at my office. Harin moved ahead, opening the door with practiced grace, and I stepped inside, letting the quiet of the room wash over me. 

The leather chair welcomed me as I sank into it, exhaling to steady myself. A quick glance at the clock reminded me there was still plenty of time before the meeting.

Good. More than enough time to spend with my husband. Since Haemin was now officially my assistant, no one would question his presence in my office.

I rose and walked to the cabinet, retrieving the delicate tea set I kept for myself. The floral scent of jasmine rose into the air as I poured, the steam curling upward.

Afterward, I sent Harin a message, instructing her to bring Haemin in.

Minutes later, the door opened. Haemin entered, his expression calm and composed. But I saw it—the tension just beneath the surface, carefully hidden. I was proud he could carry himself so well. To others, he would appear steady, unshaken. But to me, who had lived under the same roof with him long enough, his unease was clear as day.

“Come,” I said softly, patting the seat beside me on the sofa.

He obeyed, sitting a little awkwardly at first, until I reached over and slid my hand into his. His palm was warm against mine—hesitant, yet he did not pull away.

I made the most of the time we had together—sharing tea, exchanging quiet words, small conversations that seemed so ordinary yet felt precious. These were the things I couldn’t do freely before, not when Haemin was always away at the university, our lives moving on separate tracks.

Now, with him here beside me, I realized how much I had missed this. The simple rhythm of being near him, watching his expressions, listening to his voice—it all filled a space in me I hadn’t even known was aching.

The thought that we could continue like this every day, that I could have him close not just at home but here as well, stirred a deep anticipation within me. Of course, we still had time together under the same roof, but it was never enough. I didn’t just want evenings or fleeting mornings. I wanted him beside me all day, every day. And I knew Haemin understood, even if he didn’t say it aloud.

But for that happiness to last, I needed to set the boundaries clearly. Boundaries that he would remember. I trusted him—Haemin would never betray me. Yet trust didn’t erase the truth of human weakness, nor the fact that others might try to reach for what was mine.

He had to understand that his warmth, his kindness, even something as small as his smile, could never be freely given to others. Not to Harin. Not to any staff here. Those things belonged to me alone, and only to me.

If he ever forgot that, if he let his gentleness wander where it didn’t belong, this fragile peace we were building would shatter. And I would never allow that.

So I resolved, even as I sat there with his hand in mine, to make my warning clear. Gentle, perhaps, but firm enough that he would never mistake it. For us to be happy, for me to truly breathe with him by my side, he needed to remember that everything of his was mine. And mine alone.

________

I stayed leaned against him a moment longer, my hand tightening around his as if refusing to let go. For once, I wished time would stop here, with just the two of us bound together in silence.

But the silver glint of my watch caught my eye, the sharp tick of its hands pulling me back to reality. The executive meeting was about to begin.

We rose together, still holding hands as we walked toward the door. My voice softened, almost casual.

“Do you like the desk I prepared for you?”

Haemin gave a small, awkward smile. “Yes, I do. It feels… a little too nice for me, though. I was worried I might get scolded if I spilled coffee on it.”

A quiet chuckle slipped past my lips.

We stopped at the door. I leaned forward slightly, straightening the collar of his suit. My eyes lingered on his face before I murmured, “See you in a few minutes.”

He smiled, the kind that always softened something in me, then opened the door and stepped out. The click of it shutting behind him left the office in silence once more.

I sat back in the leather chair, letting the quiet settle around me. A few minutes passed before a knock came at the door.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened and Harin stepped inside, bowing lightly before speaking.

“Chairwoman, a message just arrived from the Ministry’s office. They’ve scheduled a joint meeting with Daehan Group… in two days.”

I remained composed, already anticipating this. “So, it’s time.”

“Yes, Chairwoman,” Harin replied. “The executives are already waiting in the conference room.”

I stayed seated a moment longer, letting my mind clear. When I finally stood, I moved past Harin with steady, controlled steps.

“Let’s go.”