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★・・・・・・★
A S H L E Y
After the chaos with the dog, Mary gently guided me to my room—the one I now shared with him.
My room. My marriage. My... life?
The door closed behind her with a quiet thud, and silence swallowed the air. She had handed me a set of soft clothes—a delicate silk nightie that brushed against the tops of my thighs, paired with a loose shrug that draped over my arms like armor I didn’t feel brave enough to wear. I changed out of the wedding gown, each zipper and clasp a reminder that the day wasn’t just long—it was irreversible.
When I finally collapsed onto the bed, my body sank deep into the mattress, but no luxury could ease the fatigue weighing down my chest. My limbs ached from the hours of standing, smiling, pretending. My makeup felt like a mask I no longer had the strength to hold up.
The exhaustion wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. Mental. I was tired from wearing a version of myself that pleased others, especially my mother. Tired of shrinking into silence to avoid their wrath. Tired of being the “burden” they packaged off like a poorly wrapped gift.
The plush bedding should have brought comfort, but instead, I felt like a misplaced object—something valuable but unwanted.
Just as I was drifting into the void of sleep, the door creaked open.
I tensed.
He walked in.
Jeon Jungkook.
Still dressed in the same tuxedo he wore when we exchanged vows. The fabric hugged his body in a way that should’ve made me indifferent but didn’t. He moved with calm precision, like the world bent around his pace.
I tried not to stare, but he caught me—his eyes meeting mine through the reflection of the dressing mirror.
Shit.
My cheeks flushed, heart skidding inside my chest. I wasn’t ready to be alone with him—not like this, in this nightie, with my emotions raw and written across my face.
He set his expensive watch on the table, rolled his sleeves up slowly, and then—without even glancing directly at me—spoke.
