I stared at the marriage certificate in my hand, then at the smug civil clerk, then back at the paper like it might burst into flames. "This is impossible," I hissed, my voice tight. "We haven't spoken in six years!"

Across the counter, Joon-Ho's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would crack. His eyes—still that devastating shade of midnight brown—flicked to me, cold and accusing. "You did this," he said quietly.

"Me? You think I'd trap myself with you?"

"Who else benefits?" he shot back.

A nurse from the hospital giggled behind us. The clerk handed us a welcome packet. We were officially married. Due to a 'system error' involving a mistakenly approved cohabitation form and a missed appeal window, we had to remain legally wed for ninety days—or face fines and public exposure.

Joon-Ho exhaled sharply. "We’re fixing this. Quietly."

But that meant living together. Pretending. Smiling for cameras at the hospital gala next week.

And the worst part? I wasn’t sure which terrified me more—seeing him every day… or the way my pulse jumped when he said 'we.'

Now we stood outside the courthouse, rain beginning to fall. He held an umbrella over us both, neither of us moving.

"So," I said, heart pounding. "Do we go home… or do we run?"