Bound by Fate, Built on Love (Jay ff)

Care

Jay

The first few weeks were awkward, to say the least.

After the wedding, we moved into the apartment my father had set up for us, a luxurious penthouse with a view of the city.

We were two strangers trying to navigate married life while running two major corporations.

It didn't help that Hae-in was fiercely independent. She didn't need my help.

She barely wanted my presence.

Still, I found myself looking out for her in small ways.

I'd make sure she had breakfast in the mornings, even if I didn't say anything about it. I'd quietly leave her coffee in the office, despite knowing she could get it herself.

But one morning, after she spent the night working on a merger proposal,
I caught her coughing.

She was pushing herself too hard.

"You should take a break," I said, setting down the coffee cup a little harder than I intended.

"I'm fine," she replied, not looking up from her laptop. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "But you don't have to do everything alone."

She didn't answer, and I left the room, feeling foolish.

Why was I trying so hard? She didn't need me.

---

Hae-in

Jay's attempts to take care of me were... strange.

He wasn't overbearing or demanding, but he always seemed to be there, silently making sure I had everything I needed.

It was annoying, honestly.

I wasn't used to someone hovering, especially when I'd built my life around being self-sufficient.

We ran both our companies from the same office now, and it wasn't long before we started clashing during meetings.

It wasn't outright fighting, but more like verbal sparring.

"Jay, the numbers from your department are off by half a percent,"
I pointed out during a conference call.
"We can't move forward with this acquisition until it's fixed."

He barely glanced up from his laptop.
"I'm aware of the numbers. They'll be corrected before the final report."

"They better be," I shot back, trying to keep my tone professional, though a smirk tugged at my lips.

"We can't afford to look careless."

He finally looked up, his gaze steady.

"And we won't. You should focus on your side. I'll take care of mine."

It was always like that—sharp, quick exchanges that showed neither of us was willing to back down.

But as much as we argued, I had to admit that we worked well together.

Our companies were thriving, and despite our differences, we'd found a rhythm.