After nearly five days of playing pretend on this fake honeymoon, Bo-ra and I were finally packing up to leave the luxury resort in Jeju—owned by none other than her best friend. It was our last morning here. Our suitcases were zipped, belongings gathered, and reality slowly started to settle in like the gray clouds creeping across an otherwise sunny sky.
I won't lie—despite the cast on my foot and the forced smiles, I actually enjoyed my time here. It gave me a chance to breathe, to step away from the suffocating stress of the corporate world and the mountain of paperwork surely awaiting me in Seoul. For a while, I wasn't Yul, the cold, calculated executive from Paris. I was just... a guy trying to keep up with one of the weirdest and most unpredictable women I'd ever met.
Bo-ra.
The girl who seemed allergic to seriousness. Bright eyes, louder laugh, and a personality like a sunbeam with legs. Everything about her was the opposite of me—I'm all furrowed brows, short answers, and a frozen emotional range. I've been like this since I was a kid growing up in Paris—surrounded by flashing lights, endless parties, and people wearing masks more real than their own faces.
Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss Paris.
After breakfast, we decided it was time to head back to Seoul. As much as we didn't want to leave the peace of Jeju behind, work was calling. Loudly. Especially for me—I could already picture the stack of documents waiting like a silent army on my desk.
"So once we get back to Seoul," I reminded her as we waited for our ride, "we're back on the plan. Back to pretending."
"I know," she replied softly, her tone dipping just enough to let the moment linger.
"Oh—and when we land at Incheon, Mr. Kim will be picking us up. He still thinks this marriage is real, so we need to stay in character, okay?" I shot her a glance. "Sweet, affectionate. Convincing."
"That's the one thing I'm good at," she said with a grin. "Don't worry—I got you."
By the time we boarded the plane, exhaustion had clearly caught up to her. She collapsed into her seat and was asleep within minutes, her head falling back against the seat rest, breathing evening out. I looked at her.
And... wow.
She was pretty even in sleep—except, of course, for the part where she was completely out cold, mouth wide open, and—yep—drooling just a little. I stifled a laugh. It was ridiculous and honestly kind of adorable. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo.
She didn't stir.
Would she get mad? Probably.
Did I care? At that moment, not really. I was too busy holding in my laughter, trying not to shake the seat with the effort.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, we landed at Incheon. Just as promised, Mr. Kim was waiting by the arrival gate with a warm smile and a congratulatory bouquet. We thanked him, posed for a quick photo like the "happy newlyweds" we were supposed to be, and followed him to the car.
Once inside, Bo-ra leaned against the window, quiet. I pulled out my phone, unable to resist one more glance at the picture.
And that was it—I lost it. A laugh exploded out of me so hard my stomach ached.
She turned her head slowly, suspicious. "What are you laughing at?"
I tried to hide my phone, but it was too late. She leaned in, snatched a glance—and froze.
"Oh my god. Is that—me?!" Her eyes widened in horror. "Did you take a picture of me sleeping?!"
I was practically wheezing now. "You looked—oh God—like a baby bird waiting to be fed! And the drool—oh my stomach hurts!"
"You're unbelievable," she hissed, her voice rising. "Delete it. Now."
"No way," I smirked. "You're too cute. I mean, come on, it's not every day I see someone drool like that and still look kind of adorable."
"I'm not joking, Yul. Delete. It."
But I just kept laughing, clutching my side, the image on the screen seared into my memory.
Suddenly, she went quiet.
That should've been my warning.
She covered her face with both hands, shoulders shaking. For a split second, I panicked. Was she crying?
"Bo-ra, hey, wait—I'm sorry, I was just joking—"
Too late.
She lunged.
Before I could react, her hand grabbed for my phone. I twisted away, but she was determined. She grabbed at my shirt, pulled hard—and because the car was moving, the motion jerked us forward—
Our lips collided.
Time stopped.
I blinked, too stunned to even move.
She froze too—our faces inches apart, eyes wide. Our lips still touching.
And then—
"Aww," Mr. Kim's voice floated from the driver's seat. "You two are just the sweetest couple I've ever seen."
Both our heads whipped forward. Mr. Kim was looking at us through the rearview mirror, absolutely beaming.
Bo-ra's face turned bright red. She shoved me away so hard my head hit the window with a soft thud.
I groaned, rubbing my temple, while she scowled at me like I'd just stolen her diary. I gave Mr. Kim an awkward smile and sat up straighter, fixing my rumpled shirt.
"Sorry," I muttered.
He chuckled. "No need to apologize. It's nice to see two people so in love."
I risked a glance at Bo-ra.
She didn't say a word, just gave me the most insulting little smirk I'd ever seen.
I sighed.
By the time we reached the house—the one we'd be "sharing" as a fake married couple—Mr. Kim dropped us off with one last wave and a suspiciously knowing smile.
The moment he drove off, silence fell.
The house was stunning. A modern-style home with tall glass windows, wood accents, and a clean, spacious layout. The garden outside was lush, the air crisp and quiet. Inside, the architecture was even more breathtaking. High ceilings, minimalistic design, neutral palettes with a touch of warmth.
Bo-ra wandered into the living room and whistled. "Wow. Okay, I could get used to this."
"We'll have separate rooms," I said immediately.
She raised a brow. "Obviously."
"And house rules. No touching my stuff."
"Likewise."
"And don't snore."
She gasped, offended. "I don't snore."
"You drool."
Her face darkened. "Still not over that picture, huh?"
I grinned.
She rolled her eyes and marched off to claim a room, muttering something about "annoying CEOs with punchable faces."
I stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where she'd just been, before turning to find my own room.
I'd never lived with a woman before. Not like this. And certainly not one who kissed me by accident... and might've made my heart skip.
I had no idea what was going to happen next in this ridiculous fake marriage.
But I was starting to think it wouldn't be boring.
To be continued...