The tension in the house was palpable, though not in a hostile way. It was a quiet, unspoken undercurrent that neither Jaemin nor Sooah had addressed outright. They moved around each other in careful coordination, as though they were strangers sharing a space rather than a couple on the brink of marriage.
But something shifted one evening.
Sooah had been watching Jaemin for weeks now, quietly observing the man he had become. His schedule was unrelenting—up before dawn, a workout in the gym, showered and dressed impeccably, and seated at his desk long before the world outside had even woken up. He worked tirelessly through the day, ate his meals with military precision, and retired to his room late at night. The routine never wavered.
It was fascinating and unsettling. How could anyone function like that? How could he manage to appear so composed, so put-together, on what seemed like no rest at all?
That evening, as they sat together in the living room, Sooah found herself blurting out something she hadn't planned to say.
"Jaemin," she began hesitantly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.
He looked up from his tablet, his sharp eyes softening just a fraction as they landed on her. "Yes?"
She hesitated, unsure of how to phrase her request. "Would you… would you sleep with me tonight?"
His expression didn't change, but the air between them grew heavier. He closed his tablet and set it aside, leaning back in his chair as he regarded her carefully.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice steady. There was no teasing, no hint of the desperation he had once shown when he had begged her for the same thing.
Sooah nodded, her cheeks flushing. "I… I think it might help. You know, with us… adjusting."
He tilted his head slightly, considering her words. Then, with a small nod, he stood. "Fine."
Later that night, as Sooah lay in her bed, she felt a strange mix of nerves and anticipation. When Jaemin entered the room, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, he looked calm and composed as ever.
He didn't say a word as he climbed into bed, settling on the far side with a quiet efficiency that left her momentarily stunned. He kept to his corner, his body angled away from hers, and pulled the covers over himself without even brushing against her.
It was a stark contrast to the Jaemin she remembered from years ago.
Back then, he had always been so eager, so clingy. He would wrap himself around her, his hands constantly seeking contact, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. She had hated it, and she had told him so in no uncertain terms.
But this Jaemin was different. He was so careful, so controlled, that it almost felt like he wasn't there at all.
As the hours passed, Sooah found herself unable to sleep. She glanced over at Jaemin, her eyes adjusting to the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the curtains.
He wasn't asleep.
His eyes were closed, but his breathing wasn't the deep, even rhythm of someone lost in slumber. It was shallow and steady, as though he were merely resting, not truly resting.
Sooah lay there, watching him for what felt like an eternity. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "Do you always sleep this little?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jaemin's eyes opened immediately, sharp and alert despite the late hour. He turned his head slightly to look at her. "I sleep enough," he said simply.
"That's not an answer," she pressed.
He sighed, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. "I don't need much sleep. Three, maybe four hours a night. It's enough for me."
Her brows furrowed in concern. "That's not normal, Jaemin."
"I'm not normal," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.
Sooah bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to push too hard, but the thought of him surviving on so little rest was troubling. "You used to sleep more," she murmured.
Jaemin's lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile. "I used to do a lot of things I don't do anymore."
She felt a pang of guilt at his words. She knew he was referring to the past, to the boy he had been when they were first engaged. The boy she had pushed away.
"You don't have to keep to your corner," she said after a moment, her voice tentative.
Jaemin turned his head to look at her again, his expression unreadable. "I don't want to disturb you."
"You're not disturbing me," she insisted.
He didn't move, didn't reach out to her like he might have in the past. Instead, he simply nodded and closed his eyes again, retreating back into his own world.
Sooah stared at him for a long time, her chest tight with an emotion she couldn't quite name. This wasn't the Jaemin she had known. This wasn't the boy who had clung to her, who had begged for her love and attention.
This was a man who had endured hell and come out the other side unrecognizable.
And as she lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been wrong to wish for this change. Had she destroyed the one part of Jaemin that had made him love her so completely? Had she broken something in him that could never be fixed?
For the first time in a long time, Sooah felt the sting of regret.