The project
1428 Words
Jiwon followed her husband step by step, close enough to feel the chill of his presence, as they walked toward the limousine waiting in the car park. The sound of her heels echoed behind him—sharp, measured, obedient.
As soon as they reached the car, Sohyun stopped abruptly.
“Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head.”
Jiwon paused, confused for only a second before she understood where this was going.
Let him scold me for all I care. I’m getting a divorce after this, she thought.
“How could you get drunk again?” he snapped. “Right after what happened. Do you know how hard I worked to clean up your mess? And here you are, doing the same damn thing!”
Jiwon scoffed. “You’re unbelievable—acting all righteous when you’re full of shit.”
Sohyun’s lips curved into a cold smirk as he listened to her frustration spill out.
“And what was that with Su-A?” she pressed. “You completely left me out.”
“You think this is some kind of friendship recess?” he shot back. “Use your godforsaken head, Jiwon. This is all a game.”
Jiwon laughed loudly, the sound brittle. “A game? Interesting. Then I must be your pawn.”
She sighed and waited—just a moment—for him to correct her. For some reason, she didn’t want to believe he was a total jerk.
Six years. Six years together, and still no redemption.
“What did I expect…” she muttered when he said nothing.
The silence was heavier than any insult.
She walked into the car, and they drove home without another word.
The moment they arrived, Jiwon rushed to her room, her hands trembling as she searched desperately through her drawer. When she found the divorce papers, she yanked them out. Kicking off her heels, she stormed down the hall, shoved open his study door without knocking, and slammed the papers onto his desk—right where he’d see them.
She wanted him to feel it.
The pain.
The kind he’d put her through for six long years.
Then she went back to her room, inhaled deeply, and forced herself to calm down.
As she removed her jewelry, her movements slowed.
His study door was still open.
That was unusual. He never left it open. Not once.
She’d tried countless times to break into that room, to find out what he was hiding so desperately. Now, the thought of walking back in sent a sharp thrill through her.
A cold grin spread across her face.
“f**k you, Sohyun,” she muttered.
Jiwon slipped into her pajamas and lay on her king-sized bed, waiting for him to call for her. But she never heard him enter his study.
That was strange.
His study was his sanctuary—the place he retreated to every chance he got. Sometimes she wondered if he ever slept at all.
She sighed heavily, staring at the wall clock.
2:00 a.m.
She rolled across the bed and pressed her face into the sheets, inhaling deeply.
“I’ll miss you,” she murmured, half-pouting. “Probably the only thing I’ll miss. You—and my closet.”
She stood and walked into the massive walk-in closet, her lips curling into a genuine smile as she passed her endless collection of clothes, shoes, and bags. She felt like Kim Kardashian every time she stood here. Reckless spending, no limits—at least that had been hers.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Her heart leapt.
She rushed to the door, excitement bubbling over. Freedom, she thought. This was it. Her long-awaited moment. She hoped Sohyun wouldn’t try to stop her. He had Su-A now—surely that was enough.
She imagined the look on his face.
That familiar frown.
She opened the door slowly.
Her smile vanished.
He stood there, expressionless as ever. Cold. Unmoved.
She hadn’t expected much from him—her distant husband—but seeing how little he cared still hurt. She hated herself for hoping. Every time she did, it ended the same way.
“I need you early tomorrow,” Sohyun said flatly.
Just look at that nasty attitude, she thought.
“Oh, you bet I will,” she replied, ready to slam the door.
“You’ll be meeting your employees.”
She rolled her eyes—then froze.
“Wait… what?”
“What do you think I meant?” he asked dryly. “A date?”
He hasn’t seen it, she realized.
“And by employees, you mean…?”
“Didn’t you make a scene about a project?” he said as he turned away. “Congratulations. You got it.”
Jiwon’s face lit up.
“I got it!” she exclaimed, jumping in place.
Then reality crashed down on her.
Fuck. If he sees the divorce papers, I’ll get canceled. That can’t happen. Just after this project—then I’ll be free.
She bolted down the hall, nearly colliding with him on the stairs as she raced toward his study. Panting, she grabbed the handle.
Locked.
“Damn it!” she cursed, yanking at the knob.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She spun around to see him approaching slowly.
“Uh—I just wanted to ask you something.”
“By breaking my doorknob?” he asked calmly, stopping inches from her.
She plastered on a wide grin. “Yeah. I had too much energy. Needed to cool off.”
He watched her silently, as if she’d finally lost her mind—which, to him, wasn’t surprising at all.
God damn it, think, Jiwon, she scolded herself.
He stepped closer, a devilish smirk appearing on his lips. Face to face now—too close. Close enough for him to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her thin white pajamas. Her soft pink lips. The way her body tensed.
Cute, he thought.
But he’d never liked cute girls.
He leaned down to her ear.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming to my study like this,” he whispered.
Heat rushed to her face.
He stepped past her and opened the door, slipping inside. The study was dimly lit, polished wood gleaming under warm light. Tall shelves lined with books, documents stacked with meticulous precision, the faint scent of leather and cologne lingering in the air. It felt controlled. Untouchable. Just like him.
He removed his jacket and hung it neatly.
Jiwon watched his back, momentarily distracted. He looked unreal—like something out of a fairytale. Living with a man that beautiful felt like a privilege she never truly deserved.
No matter how badly he treated her, she’d never doubted that part of him. Maybe that’s why she’d stayed. Why she’d hoped.
She snapped back to reality and stepped inside, arms folded tightly over her chest.
“And what makes you think you can come in here whenever you want?” he asked.
She moved closer to the desk, careful. “Come on—we’re past that.”
He chuckled. “You’re stubborn. And I don’t find it entertaining.”
“I’m not here to entertain you,” she said, reaching for the papers.
His eyes followed her hands.
She grabbed them quickly, crushing the pages in her fists. He stood instantly, calm but dangerous, gripping her wrist.
His aura shifted—possessive.
“What are you hiding, spoiled princess?” he asked coldly.
“None of your business. Go back to being the nonchalant freak you always are.”
“Careful,” he warned softly. “You don’t want me getting rough.”
“Try me.”
Her heart pounded wildly.
He stared at her, eyes trailing from her lips down her body. His grip tightened.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” he murmured.
She met his gaze, unflinching. He was devastatingly handsome—exactly like the men she’d read about in novels. Six years together, and this was the closest they’d ever been.
Too close.
He leaned in.
Is he going to kiss me?
She closed her eyes, fists tightening—then loosening.
His presence pressed closer.
Then stopped.
She felt his lips curve into that familiar smirk.
Disappointment washed over her, sharp and humiliating.
He flicked her forehead.
She gasped, eyes snapping open.
He was already unfolding the papers.
Her heart dropped.
He’d distracted her.
She snatched them back, cheeks burning. “You’re a d**k!” she shouted, clutching the papers to her chest as she ran out.
- Writer
