15: mr hot prosecutor

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♫: ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ ʙʏ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴄᴇ

- earlier the same day -

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- earlier the same day -

Rose's POV

Sunoo basically sent me back to my mean husband so he could go on a date with his rich prosecutor.

After years of friendship, Park Sunghoon somehow mattered more to him than his actual best friend. That sucked.

I hoped the wallet would live up to Sunoo's expectations. Because after what he'd just done, I wasn't buying him a single thing for his birthday.

Anything I wouldn't buy him, Sunghoon would just get him anyway.

Since when does being a prosecutor pay this well?

Going home was defeat with a taste of victory. I could finally catch up on sleep and pretend it would erase the sext messages I'd read last night.

Sunghoon might be good at his job, but his dirty talk was criminal. Even a 0 out of 10 didn't cover the secondhand embarrassment I felt reading, "I've gone past my bedtime just to text you with one hand."

Anything that made my best friend happy.

But because of his late-night horny texts, here I was at 9 in the morning, tiptoeing inside my own house, trying not to get Jaeyun's attention.

"Can you hurry up? It's cold out here," he muttered behind me.

I looked over my shoulder as he kicked the door shut with his foot, holding out a bouquet of red roses that had somehow appeared with him.

"Did you just teleport?" I asked, stunned.

He shoved the bouquet in my face, forcing me to take it. The flowers were fresh, the scent already filling my nose.

My mother gave me this name because she prayed that one day my father would give her a bouquet like this. He died before he could. Not like he would've done it while he was alive anyway.

"What about you? I thought you were going to kill me if you ever saw me again." He kissed my cheek. New perfume. "You should put your heels back on. I broke a vase yesterday, there might still be glass on the floor."

I looked down at my feet, then at the console table. The ugly vase his mother had given us was gone.

Either God heard my prayers, or Jaeyun, who didn't want to upset his mother by letting that vase rot in a closet, had finally made the mistake I'd been waiting for.

"Jaeyun, are you okay?"

He stopped mid-motion while hanging his coat in the closet, eyebrows furrowed like he didn't usually leave it on the stair railing until I yelled at him.

One day I promised myself I'd start hitting him. If he kept this up, I wouldn't need to.

"Yes, why?"

Wait. Was that my favorite shirt he was wearing?

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