I glared at Minho.
"Why are you glaring at me?" he asked, raising a brow. "It's not my fault your kitchen is small. And by the way, your friend is nice."
"Ohhh, really?" I shot back, already annoyed. "Then go marry her."
I didn't wait for his response. I turned and headed straight for the door just as the takeout arrived. Perfect timing.
I collected the food, walked back in, dropped it on the table, and stepped away.
"Serve yourself."
He stared at me, clearly confused. "So you're mad… but for what exactly?"
I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him.
"I'm mad because you keep calling my kitchen small—it's not," I snapped. "And because you're not even faithful to Yuna."
He blinked.
"Oh, so now she's 'nice,' huh?" I continued, my voice rising. "Tomorrow you'll probably pretend you don't even know her."
"Oh… sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your kitchen isn't small. It's just… the right size. And Yuna… I don't know, she's not really my type."
I stared at him.
"Ahhh—!" I let out a sharp scream before immediately clamping my hand over his mouth.
"Don't say that!" I whispered urgently, eyes darting around like she might magically appear. "She might still be here. Do you want to cause an apocalypse?!"
He blinked at me, clearly caught off guard.
"You're her husband," I continued, lowering my voice but keeping my grip firm. "There's no changing that, okay?"
For a second, he didn't say anything. Honestly… I didn't even know what I expected him to say.
He just nodded.
Slowly, I removed my hand from his mouth, still watching him carefully.
"Oh my God, I'm so happy! My boyfriend is finally coming back," she said practically glowing. "yuna knows where her husband is, and I'm still alive. What a wonderful day!"
"Would you stop talking about your boyfriend all the time? I'm getting sick of it," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
She turned to me with a sweet smile—too sweet.
"If you're sick, then talk about Yuna," she said. "That way we'll be even."
I blinked at her. "…You're unbelievable."
The next day, we walked down the street toward her boyfriend's apartment, the pot of plant she bought carefully held in her hands.
"Soheon," I called.
She turned to me immediately, smiling like a child who had just been handed a bag of candy.
"What?"
"Did you call your boyfriend? To check if he's home?"
"He is," she said confidently. "But I didn't call. I want to surprise him."
I frowned. "Doesn't he know you're coming?"
"Nope." She grinned. "I told him I wouldn't have time today—maybe tomorrow. And he knows I always keep my word, so he's definitely not expecting me."
"Oh…" I muttered, a strange feeling settling in my chest.
We entered the apartment building and walked down the quiet hallway until we got to his door.
She pulled out a key card.
Beep.
The door unlocked.
She pushed it open in one smooth motion.
We stepped inside—
—and froze.
Everything went completely still.
I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe.
The pot of plant slipped from her hands and crashed to the ground.
I didn't dare look at her.
But I wondered…
Was she frozen like me? Or was she already breaking?