NLFSD Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Seo Taecheon, standing taller than most and capped with his gleaming devil horns, looked as though he carried a radiant halo strapped to his back.

Ah! My husband is dazzling.

Jiwoon scrunched his brows in exaggerated awe, heart thudding.

He’s too amazing. After dealing with Song Team Leader’s slimy advances, seeing Taecheon feels like a breath of fresh air. God, I love it.

Stamping his feet in giddy joy at the sight, Jiwoon subtly maneuvered through the crowd toward him. Everyone’s attention was locked on the parade marching band, leaving his movement unnoticed. Seo Taecheon turned, spotted him, and gave a faint smile, slipping toward a quieter spot at the back of the gathering.

Locking gazes, Jiwoon approached neither too fast nor too slow. When only a meter apart, the pounding of drums and blare of trumpets marked the parade’s arrival.

“Wow!”

“Take a picture!”

“I’ll film a video!”

The crowd gasped together as performers in bright uniforms marched by, beating drums in perfect rhythm. Behind them, Let’s World’s mascot, a giant badger doll, rode a float. Children clapped wildly, cheering.

Its mechanized arms waved side to side, while phones rose like a forest of glowing rectangles.

In that perfect moment of distraction, Jiwoon edged closer — and Taecheon took his hand.

He’s holding my hand—!

Jiwoon’s heart plunged like a stone. He dared not meet his eyes, pretending instead to admire the mascot, but interlaced his fingers with Taecheon’s large, solid grip. The brush of knuckles sent blissful tingles, his pulse racing wild and ungovernable.

“Fireworks!” someone cried.

Pheeew—bang! A spray soared skyward, bursting into rainbow cascades that embroidered the night. Glittering sparkles, bold trails, luminous afterimages—each more breathtaking than the last.

Jiwoon gazed spellbound. Without question, this was the most beautiful sight of his life. Not fireworks alone, but that the man beside him stood steady, hand joined with his own.

Quietly, Jiwoon smiled. Although winter winds nipped his cheek, warmth radiated from their clasped hands; he felt no cold at all.

That magical Friday ended, and the weekend passed as though blessed. In their home, Taecheon and Jiwoon cooked together, watched films, napped on each other’s knees, kissed whenever they stirred awake, caressed necks and skin, even indulged in passion by daylight—falling asleep once again, spent in each other’s arms.

A perfect holiday. Comfort, heat, love—all in one… how could weekends be greater than this?

Jiwoon dreaded Monday. Each minute apart would be unbearable; part of him wanted to resign just to stay home with Taecheon forever. Luckily, at least they worked in the same company.

“Good morning!”

Bright‑faced, Jiwoon greeted his teammates.

“Hello, Assistant Lee.”

“Morning, Assistant.”

All welcomed him as usual—except Song Team Leader, whose face remained stiff.

Ugh. The unbearable weight of awkwardness…

He recalled the unwanted confession at the amusement park, his rejection, and worried whether things at work would now sour.

“Good morning, Team Leader.”

Social niceties must be upheld. Jiwoon bowed again. Song barely nodded, stone‑faced.

Jiwoon, uninterested, didn’t know that Song had chosen to play “push in the push‑pull game,” deliberately cold to make Jiwoon restless. That cunning Omega will falter at my chill demeanor. Just watch.

Booting his computer, Jiwoon’s phone buzzed. A message from the Reflection Center:

Notice to those retracting divorce petitions: Please visit the Center for reconciliation program attendance by this Friday.

Ah, right. The camping trip had only been partial credit. Eight out of twenty hours earned; twelve still left to log before their union could be formally recognized as sincere. Only then would their marriage be official in the state’s eyes.

But this week was busy for them both. Next week Taecheon would be on a business trip, and the week after they’d planned to visit his grandparents’ memorial. No time remained. Taking leave wasn’t easy either, with Song hovering.

Pondering, Jiwoon slipped discreetly to the lounge at the back of the office. Empty. Relieved, he dialed the Reflection Center.

“Hello, this is Jiwoon, calling about your message…”

Unseen behind him, the lounge door creaked open. Song Team Leader peeked in, watching silently. His curiosity, piqued all morning observing Jiwoon’s nervous looks at his phone, had drawn him here. Now, unbeknownst to Jiwoon, he listened.

“My husband and I are both busy, hard to visit right now. Can you send the forms by email instead? …Ah, signatures require physical delivery? I see.”

…‘Husband?’

The single word shocked Song. His face distorted worse than crumpled paper.

“Then just mail it to our newlywed home address, thank you. Yes.”

Hanging up, Jiwoon chuckled sheepishly at his own words. Husband. Newlywed home. Yet it felt sweet to speak them aloud.

Yes… he’s my husband. We live in our honeymoon home.

Grinning, shoulders lifted in pride, he turned to leave—only to find Team Leader Song blocking the wall, arms folded.

“Gah—!”

“Why do you look startled? Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“N‑no, it’s nothing.”

Song narrowed his eyes, scanning Jiwoon up and down. Jiwoon gulped nervously. Surely he didn’t hear all that…?

Silent, Song glared, while inwardly he seethed: Heard him say it clearly. ‘Husband, newlywed home.’ The supposed anti‑dating bachelor Omega—already secretly married? Devious little fox.

He simmered with irrational jealousy, as though betrayed by a lover he never had.

“I came to tell you to get back to work, not loiter in lounges.”

“Ah… yes. Sorry.”

Song stalked back to his desk. Jiwoon sighed, though unease gnawed. He couldn’t have overheard, right? But… I have a bad feeling.

The premonition was right. After that lounge encounter, Song turned icier than ever, voice snapping.

“Assistant Lee! A report like this, are you kidding?”

“…Sir?”

His bark rang across the office. Flustered, Jiwoon stood, hurrying to his desk to respond.