Every morning were predictable.
Joon-Won woke up before the alarm, before the sun, before his wife stirred under the sheets beside him. The silence of the house felt earned — a reward for the life he'd built with discipline, structure, control. His routine was simple, quick warm up work out in the backyard, cold shower, black coffee, pressed shirt, polished shoes. Hazel eyes in the mirror, always sharp. Pale skin, like the sunlight didn't exist. Hair, ash blond and slicked back, never a strand out of place. He liked being clean, collected. Joon-won liked being ten steps ahead.
When Joon-won wasn't at work, he let the edges blur. His hair messier, sleeves rolled, a watch swapped for his wedding ring. But even then, the stillness followed.
His son would run into the kitchen around 7:12, dragging a blanket and mumbling something about dinosaurs. His wife would appear minutes later — warm, smiling, wrapped in a robe she'd had since college, her black hair tied lazily in a low knot. She was beautiful in that soft, natural way that didn't ask to be noticed. A kind face. Slender frame. Dark, thoughtful eyes.
It was a quiet kind of life. Predictable. Normal.
A life Joon-Won understood.
A life Joon-Won believed was HIS.
Until she brought HIM up — casually, over dinner — as if he wouldn't be the thing to burn the whole damn thing down.
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"You're going to be late again tomorrow?" Ha-eun asked, her voice light, eyes on her salad as we sit over the dinner table later that night.
Joon-won has just came back from a busy day at work, just like every other day, taken a shower while she prepared dinner for the three of them. The usual routine.
Her tone wasn't accusing. Just… tired. She stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork as Eun-woo hummed beside her, busy drawing dragons on the placemat with a crayon.
Joon-won looked up from his plate, posture straight even at the dinner table. "Depends on whether the client approves the drafts before six."
"You said that yesterday," she said with a small laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "I'm starting to think you love your office more than your family."
He picked up his wine glass, rotating it slowly between his fingers. A plain, polished ring caught the kitchen light. "My office pays for this family."
Ha-eun blinked but said nothing. She knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that.
Across the table, Eun-woo — five years old, ash-brown hair in a soft mop of curls, pale cheeks flushed from play — made car noises with his fork and knocked over his juice. "Appa! I made a parking lot!" He cheered happily with a mouthful of tomatoes.
Joon-won's lips twitched at the corners at his son and shook his head lightly, "A sticky one." He said while eyeing the mess Eun-woo made.
Ha-eun handed their son a napkin. "I met someone today," she said casually, dabbing at the spill.
Joon-won raised an eyebrow. "Someone?"
"A mom. At pickup. Her son's in Eun-woo's class — Min-jun. Apparently our son here seems to love playing with her little one, She recognized me from that PTA group chat I never read and we've been chatting on the way home for the past few weeks."
He nodded absently. The name didn't register as anything significant. "Is she annoying?" He hummed.
"No," Ha-eun smiled. "She's… cool, actually. Has that modern mom vibe. Chill but organized. We would talk for twenty minutes everyday and it feels like five."
He nodded once again, barely paying attention now. But she went on while he takes small bites off of his dinner plate.
"She invited me out for coffee next week. And get this — her husband works in finance too. Not the same department, obviously, but still. I thought it was funny."
That got his attention. He set his fork down, slowly. "Finance?" He asked in a low calm tone. Curiosity glinting in his eyes as he meet hers.
"Mm-hmm." She reached for her wine, her own wedding band glinting. "She told me we should do a dinner sometime. Asked me to invite you as well. Just something casual. Let the boys play, share a bottle of wine, have a quiet night in."
He didn't answer right away. He tilted his head, hazel eyes narrowing just slightly.
"Dinner," he repeated flatly. His eyes losing the glint of curiosity he had just a few seconds ago.
"Not a formal one. Just… an easy night. You, me, them, the kids."
"I'm busy that night."
"You don't even know which night yet."
"Exactly."
She laughed under her breath and shook her head. "I told her we will make it, so you better clear that schedule. It's just one night Joon-woo." She playfully rolled her eyes with a slight smile.
The conversation shifted after that. He didn't comment any further, but he wasn't really in it anymore. The moment passed, but a small static buzz remained in the back of his head — faint, meaningless. But there.
Something was telling him he shouldn't clear his schedule for that dinner. Maybe he should just work overtime so he dodges the whole thing.
He didn't know why, he had a bad feeling about this.
But something in him already didn't like the idea of knowing it.