Mrs. Jeon Or Mr. Ex?

8: Cuteness Overloaded

“So... it’s been a whole day since your wedding. What’s the status of your pregnancy, hmm?”

“Mom, really? You came all this way just to ask that?” you questioned, utterly baffled by her audacity. It felt surreal, even for her.

You exhaled sharply, disbelief swirling inside you. This conversation wasn’t just absurd— it was infuriating. You pushed your hair back, frustration evident in your every movement.

Did she really come here for this?

“Yes, I did. Why, is that a problem? I have every right to check on my son-in-law, don’t I, my sweetheart?” she continued, her voice sweet, but dripping with mischief. She ruffled his hair roughly, while Jungkook, sitting stiffly next to her, smiled awkwardly, nodding like a deer caught in headlights. The sight only made your blood simmer more.

“Mom, I’m serious. Go home. And please, for the last time, stop showing up at our office unannounced. It’s not safe for you!” You were trying to stay composed, but the edge in your voice was impossible to hide.

Her eyes darkened, flashing with a warning, but she softened just as quickly. “Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N. I can handle myself.”

“Dramatic? MOM! You don’t understand the danger! You know the case I’m handling, and the kind of people involved!” You stood up abruptly, the chair screeching behind you, the frustration now bubbling over. The room felt stifling.

Jungkook, sensing the rising tension, stood beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. “Hey… calm down.”

“What?” you snapped, your voice lowering to a dangerous growl as you glared at him.

“Just… relax. The office is secure. We’re safe,” Jungkook murmured, his voice soothing, but it only made you more restless.

“The office, maybe. But the route here? It’s not safe. You know that!” Your voice cracked with urgency.

Jungkook said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes. He was trying to tell you to let it go, to breathe. But you couldn't. You were overwhelmed by the fear, the helplessness, the frustration of your mother’s carelessness, and now even your husband seemed oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Mom,” you began, voice now quieter, but no less intense, “We’ll drop you off. Let’s just go.” Jungkook, ever the diplomat, took the initiative to help your mother up, leading her out of the office.

Left standing there, alone in the room, you clenched your fists, knuckles white from the pressure. With a deep, exasperated sigh, you thumped the desk twice before grabbing your things, locking up the office, and heading down to the parking lot.

When you reached the car, Jungkook was already waiting, leaning casually against the door, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched you approach.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, your footsteps heavy with annoyance as you neared him.

“Come on, Y/N,” Jungkook said softly, reaching for your arm as you stood before him. His touch was warm, but right now, it only irritated you further. “Don’t be so upset. It’ll be fine.”

“She never listens to me. And now you—my so-called husband—are siding with her too,” you said bitterly, crossing your arms tightly against your chest. “Congratulations to me. The woman who was born to be ignored by everyone she loves.”

But from your angry sentence, Jungkook catches one word, love.

“Do you… love me too?” he questioned with a shy smile when you jerked to look at him sharply, scaring the male.