𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Two years later.

Mariposa sat on the couch, reading the latest book she'd picked up. Her eyes skimmed the pages, her body relaxed in an oversized T-shirt, and her hair was braided into two neat plaits. It had taken time for her hair to grow back, but she was glad she could style it again, even if it wasn't quite the same as before—when it had once flowed past her shoulders. Thankfully, Sanguk had been helping her maintain it, sticking to her nightly routine even with his busy schedule.

He was in culinary school now and took English lessons with her mother every other day of the week.

It was beautiful to watch Sanguk do what he loved: cooking. But it also gave Mariposa a hard time—because she gained weight like no other. She managed to keep it off, but it was tough when Sanguk came home with sweets or a dish he'd made at school, or when he needed to perfect a recipe—and she was always his test subject. He trusted her palate more than anything, partly because she'd dined at the finest restaurants, and mostly because... it was her.

The two now shared an apartment together in New York. As much as Mariposa's parents wanted her close, they knew she needed this—both of them did. Her parents had supported the couple from the beginning, and Mariposa was especially grateful that her father adored Sanguk like a son. The older man had even helped support Sanguk's culinary school—a gesture Sanguk's own family would never have made.

The front door opened, and Sanguk stepped in, his frame cloaked in a black trench coat. A gray scarf was wrapped around his neck and chin, and a black beanie sat snug on his head. He shut the door and began to remove his coat and scarf, tucking them into the hall closet.

Mariposa sprang up from the couch, setting her book aside as she rushed to the hallway. Her smile stretched wide the moment she saw him.

"Sangie," she chimed.

Sanguk looked up, his warm brown eyes brightening the moment they met hers. Mariposa rushed into his arms.

He wrapped her in a tight hug, the familiar scent of flour and olive oil clinging to him. She kissed his neck, slipped the beanie off his head, and pulled back slightly as his soft dark hair tumbled into his face. It was silky—thanks to her hair products. His hair had grown into a slightly messy mullet that she'd grown to love, though she knew he'd cut it soon. She was curious what style he'd choose next.

"How was school, handsome?" Mariposa asked, gazing up at him.

Sanguk's eyes trailed to her lips. "It was good... but I'm glad to be home. Back to you."

Mariposa gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Really? Even if I look like a train wreck?" she teased.

Sanguk clicked his tongue, his hand grazing the small of her back. "You? Train wreck? Never." He kissed her softly, and she melted into it—just like she always did.

"What did you bring me today?" she asked.

Sanguk hummed as he effortlessly scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen.

"I decided... to give you a show and cook at home," he said, gently placing her into a chair.

"I get a show?" Mariposa gasped.

Sanguk nodded and turned to the sink to wash his hands. "How was your day, baby?" he asked over the sound of running water.

Mariposa leaned her arms against the table. "I went out with Daddy, then hit the dress shop with Mary before coming home," she said.

"I'm glad you had fun today," Sanguk said with a smile.

Mariposa smiled softly and watched him prepare the kitchen. He laid out his tools, ingredients, and supplies with precision. Her eyes sparkled watching him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he hummed along to a soft tune from the radio near the window.