Kiss Me Like You’re Not Married.

Joon-Won hadn't gone anywhere dramatic. No hotel, no secret apartment this time.

Just work. Cold, sterile, fluorescent-lit work.

The office was empty by now, everyone long gone. He'd told the night security guard that he was staying in late again, the man barely even raising a brow. Joon-Won had done this often enough.

His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, tie loosened, jacket abandoned somewhere on the couch behind him. The desk was littered with open files, post-it notes, red-circled annotations, all of which he had read and reread without absorbing a single word.

The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the city, glowing in indifferent silence. Outside, the world spun as usual. Inside, Joon-Won was still trying to convince himself that he wasn't unraveling.

He picked up his phone, skimmed the unread messages from Tae-hyun without opening them, then set it back down.

He didn't want to talk.

But he wanted him.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, fingers steepled in front of his lips, letting the silence speak for him. And it screamed.

⸻

Back at Tae-hyun's house, the mood was far less composed.

"I just want to understand," Ha-eun said, wiping under her eyes with a tissue. "I'm not crazy for being upset, right?"

"No," Seo-yeon said gently, handing her a fresh one. "You're allowed to be upset. But I think it's possible they're just really close."

Tae-hyun sat a little straighter. "Ha-eun…"

She looked over, eyes red and tired.

"If it would make you feel better," he said slowly, "I can back off a bit."

That wasn't what he wanted. Every syllable scraped his throat like dry sandpaper. But he said it anyway.

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded. "I didn't know it was affecting you this much. I… I thought it helped that we were all friends. That it made things easier."

"It did. At first," she said, sighing. "But lately it feels like you two are in your own world."

He looked down at his hands. "Do you want me to talk to him? Try to get him to open up? I might be able to figure out what's going on. Maybe he's going through something and doesn't know how to explain it."

Seo-yeon stood up. "I'll go make us some tea."

As soon as she left the room, Tae turned to Ha-eun more quietly.

"There's something I didn't tell you yesterday," he said, rubbing his palm against his knee. "The reason I called."

She blinked, bracing herself.

"I've been… going through something too. With Seo-yeon."

She stared at him now, frown softening.

"She's been talking about having another baby. For months now. And I just…" he swallowed, eyes dropping. "I'm not ready. Not mentally. Not financially either. And I didn't know how to tell her without hurting her."

He could feel the heat in his cheeks, some of it was from lying, but some of it wasn't. The core of the confession was true.

"So I called Joon," he continued. "Because I needed another husband's perspective. Someone who wasn't too close to the situation, someone I could talk to without it becoming a thing. I didn't think it would come off wrong, especially since it really wasn't anything shady."

Ha-eun's shoulders slowly eased.

"I'm sorry," he added, genuinely. "I didn't mean to make it seem like we were sneaking around. I was just… desperate for advice, I guess."

She stared at him, more grounded now. "You haven't told Seo-yeon yet?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"I'm scared," he said softly. "That she'll be disappointed. Or feel like I'm rejecting her."

Something in Ha-eun's expression cracked open… not fully, but enough for sympathy to sneak through. She leaned back against the couch.

"God. We're all such a mess, huh?"

Tae-hyun gave a small laugh. "More than we admit."

She tilted her head. "What did Joon say?"

He hesitated, then offered, "He told me that… even if we're not ready, the worst thing we can do is pretend. That it's better to talk and disappoint someone than to lie and hurt them later."

Her brows drew inward, not from suspicion now, but thought.

"That sounds like him," she murmured.

Seo-yeon returned with a tray of tea, placing it on the table and smiling gently at the two of them. "Everything okay now?"

Ha-eun looked up at her, eyes a little clearer.

"Getting there," she said.

Tae-hyun's phone buzzed beside him on the cushion.

A message from Joon-Won.

Joon-won:

'Still at work. Not in the mood. You're okay baby?'

Tae replied quietly:

'I covered. She's calm now. I said what I had to… You need to breathe.. I'm worried about you.'

There was no reply for a minute. Then another came.

Joon-won:

'I need you here..'

Tae's throat tightened.

He stared at the screen.

Then lifted his eyes, sipping the tea Seo had handed him with a practiced smile.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I needed this."

.

.

The living room was dim, lit only by the soft gold glow of a side lamp and the flicker of the paused movie on the television. A half-empty tea tray sat between them now. The steam had faded. The tension hadn't.

Ha-eun sat curled up against the corner of the couch, legs pulled to her chest beneath a throw blanket. Her eyes were still a little puffy. She hadn't cried again, but she hadn't fully stopped shaking either.

Seo-yeon sat across from her, hands folded over her lap. Beside her, Tae-hyun leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, watching Ha-eun as carefully as someone studying a bomb with a short fuse.

"…I don't even know what I'm saying," Ha-eun finally murmured, the words cracked and tired. "I'm probably just paranoid."

"You're overwhelmed," Seo said gently. "And you're not crazy. But I don't think it's what you're afraid of."

"You don't know Joon like I do."

Her voice had turned sharp again, but not hostile, just wounded. Tired. Raw.

"When I met him," she continued, "he was so… confident. Carefree. He was always charming someone. Never stayed in one place too long. Never opened up unless it served him. I was the one who chased him down until he cracked."

Tae-hyun shifted slightly but stayed quiet.

"Sometimes I think…" Ha-eun took a breath. "Maybe he never really wanted to be married. Maybe he just got used to it. Maybe now he's changing back."

"Or maybe," Seo-yeon offered carefully, "he's just overwhelmed too. Joon's always been quiet. He keeps things in. You know that."

"That doesn't explain why he doesn't touch me the same way anymore. Why he looks like his mind is somewhere else even when we're in the same room. Why he won't tell me where he goes to cool off."

Seo-yeon bit her bottom lip. Tae's gaze flicked toward her.

Then Ha-eun added, "Maybe there's someone else."

Tae's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Come on," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Don't jump there."

"I'm not trying to accuse him, Tae," she said, turning toward him, "but what would you think? If your husband stopped coming home, stopped looking you in the eye, started getting weirdly attached to someone new?"

Seo-yeon looked at Tae-hyun suddenly, something unreadable crossing her face.

He blinked and answered before he had time to choke on the truth. "I'd think something was wrong. But not that he was cheating. I'd think he was hiding from something, not into someone."

"And what if you were wrong?"

He exhaled. "Then I'd want to know the truth before I made myself sick over guesses."

Ha-eun shook her head, staring down at her knees. "I thought it'd help—making couple friends. I thought… if he had people to talk to, to relate to, he'd feel less distant from me. But he's become more distant."

A vibration buzzed on the coffee table.

All three of them looked at it.

Tae-hyun's phone lit up with a message from Joon-Won.

Joon-won:

'Still here. Still can't focus. I'd rather be with you than deal with all this shit.'

Another buzz.

Joon-won:

'Is she okay though? Did she say anything? Is it over yet?'

Tae reached for the phone slowly. Ha-eun's gaze followed every movement of his hand.

"Is that him?" she asked.

His fingers froze over the screen.

He didn't answer for a moment. Then lifted his eyes. "Yeah."

Her face tightened. "What did he say?"

Tae hesitated again. The back of his neck prickled with heat. He stared down at the messages, the words sinking in like weight on wet cloth.

He had to lie. Again. But carefully.

"He's just… trying to understand what went wrong," he said slowly. "He said he can't focus."

Ha-eun stared at him, her eyes shining. "So he knows he messed up."

Tae nodded. "Yeah. He knows you're upset. He just didn't know how to handle it."

The lie was so clean that it felt like a truth by the time it left his mouth. And in a way, it was. Joon was spiraling. He just wasn't spiraling for the reasons Ha-eun thought.

"I don't want to be the crazy wife," she whispered, burying her face into her knees. "I just want to feel wanted. Like I still matter to him."

Seo reached over and touched her shoulder gently.

"You do," Tae said, trying to smile. "I know Joon's weird with feelings. But he cares. I wouldn't even be close with him if I didn't think that."

Ha-eun glanced up at him. "Do you really believe that?"

His heart jumped again. Tae smiled, the kind of soft, crooked smile you give when you don't want anyone to look too closely.

"I wouldn't lie to you about him."

That, at least, was true. He hadn't lied about Joon.

His phone buzzed again.

Joon-Won:

'Fucking hell.. tell her I'll come home. Just not now. Not ready yet I need space.'

Tae took a deep breath, then spoke gently. "He said he's not ready to come home yet. But he will. He just needs space."

Ha-eun's face crumpled again, but she nodded. "Of course he does. He always needs space. He never wants to talk."

"Then let me talk to him," Tae said softly. "Let me figure out what's really going on. I'll ask him everything you want to know."

"…You'd do that for me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. If it helps."

Seo-yeon stood, smoothing her sweater. "I'll go grab some more tissues."

Tae watched her leave, then turned his gaze back to Ha-eun.

"Just give it one day," he said. "Let him cool down. Let me talk to him."

Ha-eun hesitated. "And if you find out it's worse than we think?"

He looked her in the eye.

"Then I'll tell you."

But his stomach twisted. Because he didn't know if he actually would. Not anymore.

The room was quiet except for the soft clink of mugs being set down. The tea had long gone lukewarm, but no one was drinking it.

Ha-eun sat curled on the edge of the couch still at their house, her fingers anxiously twisting the hem of her sleeve. Her hair was a bit messy from crying, and there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't eased since she arrived.

"I'm not saying he's a bad person," she finally said, voice thin and frayed. "But I've seen Joon in all kinds of moods. And this… this one feels familiar."

Seo-yeon frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ha-eun looked up, her lips trembling slightly. "I mean I've seen him go quiet like this before. Detached. Like he's emotionally moved on already."

Tae-hyun didn't move. His jaw tensed, but he kept still, eyes focused on her.

She inhaled deeply. "Back when we were first dating.. he'd do this thing when he got bored of a girl. Start staying late at work, pulling away, becoming calm to the point of robotic. Just like this."

Seo-yeon reached for her hand. "That was a long time ago. You said it yourself, he's changed a lot."

"Has he?" Ha-eun's voice broke, a bitter laugh bubbling up. "Or did I just ignore the signs because I thought I was the one who changed him?"

"You did change him," Tae said quietly. "You gave him a family. You grounded him."

"But lately," she cut in, eyes red and searching, "he's not grounded. He doesn't touch me the same. He doesn't talk like he used to. He barely looks at me unless our son are there."

The words landed heavy.

Seo-yeon leaned back, brows creased in thought. Tae stayed still, even as his phone buzzed again beside him on the armrest.

Ha-eun noticed.

"Is that him?" she asked.

He hesitated. Then nodded once. "Yeah."

Her eyes flicked between him and the screen. "What's he saying?"

Tae picked up the phone, unlocking it with a slow, practiced thumb. He read the message silently before answering.

Joon-won:

'I shouldn't have been so cold I know.. but I didn't want to fight her. I couldn't listen. Even if I wasn't actually cheating, she always speaks to me like I'm someone I'm not. Like I haven't changed just for her and our son.'

Tae glanced up and met Ha-eun's eyes. "He said he's struggling too."

Ha-eun swallowed. "Struggling with what?"

"Everything," Tae replied. "The argument. The way you confronted him. He's overwhelmed."

"He didn't look overwhelmed. He looked…" her voice cracked, "… cold."

Tae-hyun's thumbs hovered over the screen as another message came in.

"I'm still at the office. I don't want to go home."

He didn't say anything yet.

Ha-eun sank back into the couch, her voice growing softer, sadder. "Do you think he's cheating?"

Seo-yeon blinked, surprised. "No—Ha-eun—"

"He was a player before me. You both know that. And lately it just feels like… like he's somewhere else. If it's not another woman then what the hell is it?"

Tae exhaled slowly, glancing at the lit-up screen in his hand again.

"I don't think it's someone else," he said finally. "I think he's… confused. Maybe he's been holding a lot in for a while, and now it's catching up."

Ha-eun shook her head. "That's not comforting. That's terrifying."

Seo-yeon leaned forward. "You love him. That hasn't changed. Right?"

"Of course I love him," she whispered. "But I don't know if he does anymore."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Tae-hyun felt like he was walking a tightrope between two realities, one he had helped construct, and one he was desperately trying to maintain.

His phone buzzed again.

Joon-won:

'Did she say anything else? Does she know?'

Tae typed carefully.

'She's spiraling. I'm trying to calm her down. I told her we talked about my marriage.'

A pause.

Then his phone buzzed immediately.

Joon-won:

'Do you regret it?'

The question hit harder than expected.

Tae didn't answer right away.

He couldn't with their eyes on him.

Ha-eun was still watching him, eyes suspicious now.

"Is he saying something important?" she asked, voice trembling.

Tae looked up at her, expression softening. "He's just… feeling guilty. He thinks he made it worse by leaving."

"Then why doesn't he come home and talk to me?" Her voice spiked again, the tears returning. "Why is he texting you instead?"

Seo gently put a hand on her shoulder. "He probably feels like he can't say the right thing. You know how he gets when he shuts down."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm tired of being the one who always tries to decode him," she snapped, but her voice was already giving out. "Maybe I want him to try for me this time."

Tae's phone buzzed once more. He tilted it, reading it sideways while nodding softly to himself.

Joon-won:

'Fuck.. I keep thinking about that night, about you. She doesn't look at me like that. Never did.'

Tae pressed his lips together.

Holding back a smile at the wrong time.

He couldn't show anything.

Not even the way his heart was racing.

.

.

.

The overhead lights in Joon-Won's office buzzed faintly, bathing the room in a sterile, unflattering glow. His jacket hung off the back of his chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms, white shirt slightly creased from a long day of refusing to go home.

Stacks of paper surrounded him, opened but barely touched. He sat hunched forward with his elbows on the desk, staring at his phone screen with a faint frown tightening the space between his brows.

Tae's name lit up again.

T.:

'She's spiraling. I told her we talked about my marriage.'

A moment passed. Joon's thumbs hesitated, then typed.

"Do you regret it?"

He hit send before he could overthink it.

His fingers tapped against the desk. Annoyed. Irritated. Not with Tae-hyun but with how much of himself he'd started to give away.

The vibration came again.

T.:

"She thinks if she calls you now, you won't answer. I told her I'd call you first and prove her wrong."

T.:

"If you see a missed call from me, ignore it. Then answer hers. Calmly."

Joon let out a soft scoff, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Is this what I've become?" he muttered under his breath. A man hiding in a glass tower, waiting for signals from the other half of his affair to know how to lie for both of them.

Still, he complied.

He silenced his phone, placed it screen-down, and leaned back.

Seconds later, it buzzed once.

Tae's name.

He didn't touch it.

Then, moments after, it rang again but this time vibrating longer.

He glanced at the screen.

Ha-eun.

He exhaled slowly, then answered. His voice came out calm, like it always did when he was internally fraying at the edges.

"Yeah?"

⸻

Back at Tae-Hyun's house

"I'm serious," Ha-eun said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "If I call him, he won't answer. But if you call, he will."

Tae didn't flinch. "You think I have some power over him that you don't?"

She looked away, lips trembling. "I know you do."

Seo-yeon shifted in her seat, the tension in the room almost suffocating. "Ha-eun, maybe now's not—"

"No. Let her," Tae said quietly, eyes still on Ha-eun. Then, with a breath: "Alright. Let's test your theory."

She narrowed her eyes.

Tae picked up his phone and, as promised, dialed Joon-Won. It rang twice. Three times. Then four.

No answer.

He gave Ha-eun a small, pointed look. "He didn't pick up."

Her lips twitched. She didn't like that.

He held out his phone like a peace offering. "Your turn."

She hesitated for only a second before unlocking her own phone and pressing call.

Ha-eun straightened up with a strange mixture of vindication and hurt as she stared at her screen.

"I told you," she whispered, before quickly switching to a louder tone when she heard his voice on the other end. "Joonie?"

"Mm?"

Seo leaned over and gestured. "Put him on speaker. I can help."

Ha-eun hesitated, then tapped the screen.

"Hey," she said. "I didn't think you'd answer."

"You called," Joon replied coolly. "Of course I'd answer."

"So why didn't you answer Tae just now?" she asked, voice trembling.

He didn't miss a beat. "Because I knew if I answered him, I wouldn't get a second chance to hear your voice first."

Tae didn't blink but his fingers gripped the edge of the sofa cushion.

Seo, next to him, gave him a quick look. He smiled politely, like the model husband.

On the other end, Joon-Won kept his tone soft. "I know you're upset."

"I'm not upset," Ha-eun said, wiping her eyes. "I'm just confused. I don't know who I've been married to lately."

"You're married to the same man," he replied. "The same one who still shows up for his son. The same one who makes you coffee every morning, even if he leaves early. The same one who doesn't know how to explain himself, but still tries."

There was a pause.

"Then why does it feel like you're pulling away?" she asked quietly.

Joon's voice shifted slightly not breaking, but cracking open.

"Because I'm tired, Ha-eun. I'm… tired of being told I haven't changed, when I've spent every damn year proving I'm not the man I used to be. I stay out of trouble. I come home. I work. I protect you. But now you're telling me it's still not enough?"

"You don't look at me like you used to," she said. "You're always somewhere else."

"I'm not cheating on you."

The words came out too fast. Too clean.

Her lips parted slightly, stunned. Seo-yeon gently reached over and rubbed her arm.

"But if there is someone else," Ha-eun continued after a moment, voice breaking, "I deserve to know. I don't care if it's a woman or—" her voice caught, eyes flicking toward Tae-hyun for a second too long, "—someone else."

Joon was quiet again.

"There's no one else," he said firmly. "No affair. No secret woman. I've just been spending time with someone who understands the pressure. Another husband, another father. Someone going through the same things."

Ha-eun didn't speak. Tae stayed absolutely still.

"And Tae-hyun?" she added in a smaller voice.

Tae's eyes didn't shift. Seo's did.

Joon-Won didn't flinch. "Tae-hyun's been going through things. So have I. We started talking. Two husbands. Two fathers. Trying to figure out how to be better men."

"But why him?" she asked. "Why not your other friends?"

"I don't have other friends," he said. "You wanted me to open up. I did. I found someone who gets it. That's all it is."

Ha-eun blinked, more confused than relieved.

Seo-yeon leaned in. "He's not saying anything wrong, Ha-eun. Joon's always been quiet about his feelings. Maybe this is the first time he's actually trying to talk."

There was a long pause. Then, Joon spoke again, this time lower, a bit rougher.

"I didn't come home because I didn't know what version of me you expected when I walked through the door."

Ha-eun pressed a hand to her mouth.

Tae looked down at his own lap, heart thudding. He knew those words weren't for her. Not really.

And Ha-eun could feel it too, which made it worse.

"Will you come home?" she asked finally.

"Not tonight," he said, gently. "I need to finish some things here. I'll be home in the morning."

"Okay," she said, sounding suddenly small. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Ha-eun."

"Goodnight."

She hung up.

The room was quiet again.

Seo reached for Ha-eun's hand. "That was… honest."

Ha-eun looked dazed, somewhere between satisfied and more hurt than before.

Tae-hyun cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"No," she said, eyes still on the floor. "But maybe I'm starting to understand. Even if I don't like it."

She looked up at him then, her voice quieter.

"Thanks, Tae-hyun."

He smiled gently but his eyes were kinda cold when he looked at her. "Of course."

But as she leaned back against the couch, lost in thought, Tae's phone buzzed once more. He picked it up, unseen.

Joon-won:

'Tell me it wasn't a mistake.'

Tae's fingers hovered before he typed quitely.

"It wasn't. I'm proud of you."

Joon-won:

'Lets meet up tomorrow before work, parking lot. I need you Tae.'

A beat.

Tae-hyun:

"I'll be there."