The taste of him, the ghost of his lips on yours, still lingered. You gasped, sitting upright in bed, heart hammering against your ribs. Thank God. Just a dream. A ridiculous, improbable dream. Kenji... Kenji Ito, kissing you? As if. He was your nemesis, the bane of your existence. There was no way...

Then, a low chuckle sliced through the morning air. You whipped your head to the side, and there he was, lounging against the headboard, one arm casually thrown over his head, a smirk playing on his annoyingly perfect lips.

"You make me laugh, stupid," he drawled, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite your best efforts. "Nightmare again?" His large hand, calloused and warm, settled on the small of your back, sending another unwanted jolt through you.

Ew.

That was the first word that always popped into your head around him. Always. How could you forget, even for a second, that he was your husband now? Not your elementary school friend, not your high school tormentor, but your husband. Just the thought of it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You'd known each other forever, practically since diapers. Elementary school was filled with laughter and shared secrets, a genuine connection. But then, high school hit, and Kenji became... Kenji Ito. He found a new clique, a group of arrogant, entitled bullies, and you became his favorite target. The constant taunts, the relentless teasing, the feeling of being utterly humiliated... it had solidified into a deep-seated loathing.

You hadn't known then, hadn't understood the twisted logic of his behavior. He'd wanted your attention, your reaction, any sign that you still cared about him. He'd acted cruel, hiding his feelings behind a wall of mockery, while you, in turn, had learned to despise him, fueled by his constant needling and the unwavering belief that he was a monster.

College offered a brief respite. He went abroad, and you breathed a sigh of relief, thinking you'd finally escaped the vortex of Kenji Ito. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Your parents, good friends with his parents, orchestrated a forced reunion when Kenji, now a ridiculously successful CEO, returned home. The proposal came, not of love, but of convenience, a strategic alliance between your families. You had no choice. You married him.

It had only been three days, three excruciating days, and you kept forgetting the reality of your situation. Three days of sharing a house, a life, and now... a bed, with the man you loathed.

A sharp flick to your forehead snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. "What are you thinking about? Are you plotting how to finally get under me? I could give you a few tips, you know." His eyes danced with mischief, his face inching closer.

"Ugh, your reactions are so funny, really. I actually hate sharing my bed with you, you know," he continued, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Who knows when you'll finally snap and push me off the bed." He studied your face, his expression unreadable for a fleeting moment.

This little devil, you thought, clenching your fists under the covers.