Dabble life of my husband

(Jisoo's POV)

The sun had long disappeared, leaving the city bathed in a cold, silvery glow. I sat curled up on the couch, my arms hugging my knees to my chest. The faint hum of the heater filled the silence of the apartment, but it did little to warm the icy ache in my heart.

My cheek still stung faintly from Eun-Jung’s slap, though it was nothing compared to the hollow pain her words—and my father’s indifference—had left behind. The humiliation, the rejection, the sheer weight of it all sat heavily on my chest.

I didn’t hear the door unlock until it creaked open, and Taehyung stepped inside. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair slightly tousled, but he still carried the aura of someone who had it all together. The moment his eyes landed on me, though, that calm exterior cracked.

“Jisoo?” he said, his voice soft but tinged with alarm as he set his briefcase down.

I quickly wiped at my face, trying to erase any trace of my tears, but it was no use. His footsteps grew louder as he approached, and before I knew it, he was kneeling in front of me.

“What happened?” he asked gently, his eyes scanning my face. His gaze lingered on the faint redness on my cheek, and his jaw tightened.

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, looking away.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his voice low but steady. “Don’t say it’s nothing when you’ve clearly been crying. And what’s this?” He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my cheek.

I flinched instinctively, and his hand froze. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone darkening.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It matters to me,” he insisted.

The sincerity in his voice cracked something inside me, and before I knew it, the words came tumbling out. “I went to see my father,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I asked him for help with mom’s hospital bills. He… he refused. He insulted me, and Eun-Jung…” My voice broke, and I buried my face in my hands.

Taehyung was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was a mix of anger and restraint. “She hit you?”

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

I expected him to explode, to lash out at the audacity of it all. But instead, he let out a deep breath and sat beside me on the couch. Gently, he pulled me into his arms, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield.

I stiffened at first, unused to such intimacy, but his hold was firm yet comforting, and I slowly relaxed against him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice close to my ear. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest.

“No, but it doesn’t mean I can’t feel angry for you,” he said softly. “You deserve better than this, Jisoo.”

The weight of his words, his unwavering support, made my tears fall anew. I hadn’t expected him to care this much—not when our marriage was more of an arrangement than anything else. But here he was, holding me as though I were something precious.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I promised mom I’d take care of her, but I don’t know how. I don’t have the money, and now… now I don’t even have the strength to face her.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said, his tone resolute.

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “What do you mean?”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re my wife, Jisoo. Whether this marriage started out as a contract or not, I’m here for you. If your mother needs help, then we’ll find a way to help her—together.”

His words were like a balm to my wounded heart, but they also left me feeling conflicted. “Taehyung, I can’t… I can’t keep taking from you. This isn’t your responsibility.”

“Stop,” he said firmly, his hands resting on my shoulders. “You’re not taking anything. I’m giving it to you because I want to. You’re not alone anymore, Jisoo. Don’t forget that.”

I stared at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity, but all I found was a quiet determination that left me speechless.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to lean on someone else. And as Taehyung held me, whispering reassurances I didn’t know I needed, I felt a glimmer of hope—a fragile but undeniable light breaking through the darkness.

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