A luxury retreat was supposed to be two weeks of peace for ITZY and TWICE—no schedules, no cameras, no expectations. Instead, the first day brings public embarrassment, private confessions, and emotions that can no longer be ignored
The first hour of the drive was quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Company-mandated quiet.
There was a difference.
Jihyo had said assigned silence until the first checkpoint, and somehow, by sheer force of Park Jihyo existing, everyone had obeyed.
Mostly.
Ryujin had obeyed in spirit, which meant she had not spoken but had communicated several criminal thoughts through facial expressions alone.
Yuna had lasted eleven minutes before silently writing activity notes in her vacation notebook with the intensity of a woman planning a government program.
Lia had watched her do it, sighed once, and taken the pen away twice.
Chaeryeong had spent most of the drive making sure the snack bags were evenly distributed, which became less about logistics and more about survival once Momo’s van pulled beside ours at the first stop and Momo looked through the tinted window with terrifying food awareness.
Yeji sat beside me. Her hand had found mine ten minutes after we left the parking level. No one commented. That was how I knew they were tired. Or plotting. Possibly both… definitely both.
By the second hour, the silence order had dissolved into low conversation.
By the third, Ryujin had fallen asleep with sunglasses still on, which somehow made her look more suspicious.
By the fourth, Yuna had renamed the retreat six times.
By the fifth, Lia had threatened to throw the notebook out of the window if the phrase “Hostile Wellness” appeared one more time.
“It’s not a title anymore,” Yuna protested from the back.
“It is on the page.”
“It’s a concept.”
“It’s a felony with spa access,” Lia said.
Ryujin, without opening her eyes, raised one hand “I vote felony with spa access.”
“No one asked you,” Yeji said.
“I live here emotionally.”
“You live everywhere emotionally,” Chaeryeong murmured.
Ryujin opened one eye “That was sharp.”
Chaeryeong immediately looked down “Sorry.”
“No, keep going. I like vacation Chaeryeong.”
Chaeryeong hid behind a snack bag. I looked toward Yeji. She was trying not to smile. I noticed. Of course I noticed. She noticed me noticing “Don’t,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to say you look happy.”
Her expression softened before she could stop it. Then she looked out the window “I am.”
That stayed with me longer than it should have.
Outside, the city had thinned into long roads, guarded turns, and stretches of coast that looked too clean to be casual. Eventually, the vans turned away from the public highway and onto a private access road lined with tall trees and security posts so discreet they looked decorative until you noticed the cameras. Yuna leaned forward “Are we arriving or being abducted luxuriously?”
“Both can be true,” Ryujin said.
Lia looked out the window “This is… really private.”
Chaeryeong shifted closer to the glass “There are no other cars.”
“Good,” I said.
Yeji looked at me “That sounded expensive.”
“Privacy usually does.”
“That did not make me feel better.”
“It was not meant to.”
The first gate opened before our vans fully stopped. Then the second. Then a third, hidden behind a curve of palm trees and stone walls. By the time the resort finally appeared, even Ryujin sat up properly. The place did not look like a hotel. It looked like someone had taken a private beach, erased the rest of the world from around it, and built a quiet kingdom along the water.
White villas sat apart from each other along the coastline, spaced far enough that no balcony looked directly into another. A private road curved through landscaped gardens toward a central pavilion of glass, wood, and stone. Beyond it, the beach stretched out in pale sand and blue water, empty except for staff preparing shaded lounges beneath the trees.
No crowds, visible guests, camera flashes, distant fans, or noise— except the ocean.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ryujin whispered “Okay. This is rich-rich”. Yuna pressed both hands to the window “This is not a retreat. This is where villains recover after losing the first movie”. Chaeryeong’s mouth opened slightly “Is this all for us?”
“For two weeks,” I said. The van went quiet. Yeji turned toward me slowly “Ben”. I looked out the window “Yes?”
“How expensive is this?”
“That depends on how you define expensive.”
Lia closed her eyes “Bad answer.”
Yuna pointed at me “That is a tax bracket answer.”
The van stopped near the private reception pavilion. The doors opened. Warm air, salt wind, and sunlight spilled in. TWICE’s van had arrived just ahead of us, and they stepped out one by one into the brightness.
Nayeon took off her sunglasses and stared.
Sana clasped both hands in front of her chest.
Dahyun looked around like she was searching for the hidden production crew.
Jeongyeon crossed her arms, suspicious.
Momo looked toward the dining pavilion first.
Tzuyu looked at the beach quietly.
Chaeyoung smiled to herself.
Jihyo stepped out last, already assessing the entire venue like a leader who did not believe in relaxing until the building had earned her trust.
Mina stood beside her, calm as ever.
That was unfair because this was partly her fault. John got out of the van looking like a man who had survived a long drive only to be financially attacked by architecture. He looked at the resort. Then at me. Then at Mina “No.”
I frowned “What now?”
“This is not a wellness retreat.”
Mina looked at him “It has wellness facilities.”
“This is a private country with towels.”
Nayeon walked closer, eyes still moving across the resort “So… nobody else is here?” A staff member approached at a respectful distance but did not stare. That helped. A little.
Sana’s smile softened, but her eyes stayed careful “No guests?”
“No public bookings,” Mina said.
The group turned toward her. Mina adjusted the strap of her bag “This resort does not operate through normal channels. There are no public listings, no standard reservations, no casual walk-ins, no press access, and no guest overlap unless approved in advance.”
Dahyun lowered the invisible microphone she had almost raised “That sounds illegal.”
“It is not,” Mina said.
I added, “It is just expensive.”
John looked at me “That is not a defense.”
“It is often the explanation.”
Jeongyeon looked toward the beach “And staff?”
“Vetted,” I said. “Rotations locked. Phones restricted on working areas. Social posting prohibited by contract. Security handles perimeter access. Internal routes are separated.”
Jihyo’s eyes narrowed “That was too detailed.”
“Privacy requires detail.”
Yeji stepped closer to me. Her voice dropped just enough “Ben.”
I looked at her “What?”
“Invoice.”
I immediately looked away “No.”
Jihyo turned toward Mina “Invoice.”
Mina looked at Jihyo, then at me. Then calmly opened her phone “Mina,” I said. She ignored me. John exhaled “I knew it.” Yeji held out her hand “Show me.”
“It is already paid,” I said.
“That is not what I asked.”
“Technically, Mina paid half.”
Mina nodded “Split evenly.”
Jihyo took the phone first. She looked at the screen. Her face did not move. That was worse than screaming. Nayeon leaned over her shoulder. Then froze. Sana looked. Her smile dropped. Dahyun looked. Her imaginary microphone slowly lowered to her side. John saw the number and made a sound like someone had unplugged him from life support. Yeji took the phone last. She stared. Then stared longer. Then looked at me “Benjie.”
I stood straighter “Yes?”
“This is the price of every seat in an arena concert.”
Ryujin’s mouth dropped open.
Yuna turned toward the resort “We are sleeping inside a sold-out concert?”
Chaeryeong whispered, “For two weeks?”
Momo looked concerned “Is food included?”
Everyone turned toward her. She blinked “What?”
I nodded “Yes. Food is included.”
Chaeryeong visibly relaxed.
Mina added, “Food, staff, security, medical standby, private venue access, route control, and emergency contingencies.”
Jihyo handed the phone back to Mina slowly “Emergency contingencies?”
“Standard,” Mina said.
John pointed at her “For who?”
“For people like us,” Mina said.
He stared “That did not help.”
Yeji looked at me “There are staff bonuses on here.”
“Yes.”
“Why are there staff bonuses?”
“So they remain happy.”
Jihyo closed her eyes “You bribed the resort staff into emotional loyalty.”
“I prefer incentivized discretion.”
“That is bribery with better lighting,” John said.
Mina looked at him “It improves retention.”
John looked physically pained “Why do both of you have the same money disease?”
I frowned “It is not a disease.”
Yeji looked at me I corrected myself “It is a condition.”
“That is worse,” Lia said.
Yuna looked around the resort again, this time with a different kind of awe “So we can really… relax?”
The question softened the air. Because beneath the jokes, there it was. The thing none of them wanted to ask too loudly. Can we stop watching ourselves? Can we stop checking the corners? Can we laugh too loud? Can we walk outside without calculating exits? Can we exist without being consumed?
The ocean moved quietly beyond the pavilion. I looked at Yuna first. Then at Lia. Chaeryeong. Ryujin. Yeji. Then at TWICE “Yes,” I said. “That is the point.” Mina’s voice came softer beside me “For two weeks, this place is yours. Not publicly. Not symbolically. Functionally.” Jihyo looked at her. Mina continued “No press. No guests. No overlap. No staff access beyond assigned areas. If anyone tries to breach the perimeter, security sees them before they see you.” That helped more than the luxury did.
I saw it happen. Not all at once. Not completely. But enough. Nayeon’s shoulders dropped. Sana looked toward the beach like she was letting herself believe in it. Dahyun tucked her phone deeper into her bag without being told. Jeongyeon exhaled. Tzuyu smiled faintly. Ryujin pulled off her sunglasses. Yuna lowered her notebook. Lia looked at the water and said nothing. Chaeryeong held the snack bag a little tighter, but her face softened. Yeji stood beside me. Like the room inside her had finally opened a window.
A resort manager approached and bowed “Welcome. Your villas are ready.” John muttered, “Of course there are villas.”
“There are multiple groups,” Mina said.
“I understand the concept. I’m reacting to the price.”
The staff led us down a private stone path toward the villa cluster. The resort opened wider as we walked. Private pool. Beach access. Outdoor dining pavilion. Spa building. Training room. Cinema lounge. Garden paths. A kitchen large enough that Chaeryeong made a small noise under her breath. Momo heard it. Momo looked at the kitchen. Then at Chaeryeong. Something like alliance passed between them.
Jihyo noticed and immediately looked concerned “Do we need kitchen rules?”
“Yes,” John said.
Momo blinked and Chaeryeong looked down “Maybe.”
The room assignments became a separate diplomatic event.
Jihyo wanted structure. Nayeon wanted chaos. Sana wanted “organic bonding.” John said the word organic had become dangerous. Mina provided a villa map. Yuna immediately tried to improve it with activity zones. Lia took the pen away again. Eventually, the arrangement settled into something survivable. TWICE had one large villa wing closest to the garden path. ITZY had the connected wing facing the beach. John had a separate manager’s suite near the central office, which he claimed was for operational oversight.
Nayeon called it cowardice. Jihyo called it practical. Mina had a quiet villa near the end of the path with the best view and enough distance to make John suspicious. I had a room in ITZY’s wing. That alone should not have been a problem. Naturally, it became one. Ryujin looked at the room list. Then at Yeji and then at me. Slowly. “You two are sharing?” Yeji’s face changed by one degree. Leader mode tried to save her. It failed “For logistics,” she said.
Yuna leaned in “Logistics.” Lia closed her eyes “Do not.” Chaeryeong looked down, already smiling. Nayeon appeared behind Ryujin with terrifying timing “Honeymoon logistics?”
Yeji turned pink “No.” Sana appeared beside Nayeon “Wife privileges?”
“No.”
Dahyun lifted one finger “Room assignment confirms ongoing title dispute.” Jihyo pointed at her “No reporting.” Dahyun lowered her hand. I took the key card from the staff member.
“There are enough rooms for everyone to be comfortable. Yeji and I can switch if needed.” Yeji looked at me. The room went quiet. She took the key card from my hand “No.” Everyone froze. Yeji held the card, face warm but voice steady “It’s fine.” Nayeon smiled. Ryujin’s eyebrows rose. Yuna covered her mouth. Lia looked away to hide a smile. I looked at Yeji. She did not look back immediately. That was how I knew she knew exactly what she had done.
Jihyo, mercifully, clapped once. “Unpack first. Meeting in the dining pavilion in one hour. No wandering alone until security finishes the final perimeter confirmation.” Ryujin raised her hand “What if wandering is emotionally necessary?”
“Then wander with witnesses.”
Yuna raised her notebook “What if I need to inspect activity zones?”
“Later.”
Momo raised a hand “Food?”
Chaeryeong lifted her bag “I can help check the kitchen.”
Jihyo looked between them, then sighed “Thirty minutes. Supervised.”
Momo smiled. Chaeryeong looked like she had been given a sacred mission. The group scattered in pieces. Laughter down one path. Bags rolling over stone. Staff moving quietly around us. The ocean following everything. For the first time, the noise did not feel trapped in a room. It had somewhere to go.
Yeji walked beside me toward our assigned villa. Neither of us spoke at first. The path curved past low greenery and opened toward a private terrace facing the water. Our room sat at the edge of the ITZY wing, close enough to everyone to be reachable, far enough to feel separate.
Yeji unlocked the door. The room opened into warm light. Wide bed. Soft curtains. Private balcony. Ocean view. A couch near the window. A bathroom too large to be reasonable. Fresh flowers on the table. Our luggage already placed neatly near the closet. And silence. Actual silence.
The door clicked shut behind us. For the first time since morning, there was no one else. No paperwork. No John suffering in the corner. No Ryujin listening through the walls. No Nayeon weaponizing the word ‘wife’ from ten feet away. Just the room. The ocean. Our bags by the door, and Yeji standing very still in front of me.
I looked around “Not bad,” I said. “Does my wife approve?” I meant it as a joke. Mostly. Yeji turned around slowly. The look on her face made every surviving thought in my head stop moving “Say that again.” I blinked “What?” Her eyes stayed on mine as she stepped closer. Close enough that I felt the shift in the air before I felt her hand against my shirt “You keep doing that,” she said softly “Doing what?”
“Calling me that”. My throat went dry “Jokingly.” Yeji’s mouth curved. Not quite a smile or a warning. Something worse. Something private “Do you know how hard it was for me not to pounce on you every time you called me your wife in front of everyone?”
The room went quiet. Or maybe I did. Because Yeji had stepped fully into my space now, one hand resting against my chest, close enough to feel the temporary ink beneath the fabric “And then you had the nerve,” she whispered, “to put my name here.”
I looked down at her hand. Then back at her “You chose the font.”
“I know.”
“You chose the hearts.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt “I know.”
“Yeji.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, steady and bright and dangerous “You kept making me blush in front of everyone,” she said. “So now you can deal with me without an audience”. I swallowed. “Is this leader mode?”
“No.” She stepped closer “This is me, making good use of wife privileges.”
The silence of the room didn't just feel like a lack of noise. It felt like a vacuum, pulling the air out of my lungs until the only thing left to breathe was the scent of Yeji—something like vanilla, salt, and a sudden, electric heat.
She didn't give me a chance to answer. She didn't give me a chance to joke. Yeji stepped forward, her movements devoid of the hesitation that usually governed her public persona. She didn't just enter my space; she annexed it. Her hand, which had been resting on my chest, suddenly tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt with a strength that bordered on desperation.
"You think you're so clever," she whispered, her voice dropping an octave, vibrating against my skin. "All those little comments. All those looks. Do you have any idea what it does to me? To have to stand there, the leader of the group, pretending I'm not vibrating out of my skin because you're treating me like I belong to you?"
I opened my mouth to say something—probably a joke about how she seemed to be enjoying it—but the words died in my throat. Yeji’s eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide, swallowing the iris. There was a hunger there that I had only ever seen in flashes, hidden behind the professionalism and the poise. Now, it was a wildfire.
"I spent the whole drive thinking about this," she murmured, her breath hot against my lips. "Thinking about a place where I didn't have to be the one holding everything together. Where I could just... take."
Then she kissed me.
It wasn't a gentle invitation. It was a collision. Her lips slammed into mine with a ferocity that knocked me back a half-step, her tongue immediately forcing its way past my teeth to claim my mouth. She tasted like the mint she’d been chewing and a deep, visceral need. We exchanged saliva in a messy, desperate rhythm, the sound of our mouths meeting—a wet, slapping noise—filling the quiet room.
Yeji’s hands didn't stay still. While her mouth worked mine, her fingers flew to the buttons of my shirt. She didn't unbutton them so much as she ripped them, a couple of small plastic discs pinging off the wall as she tore the fabric open to get to my skin. I groaned into her mouth, my hands finding her waist, pulling her flush against me. She was relentless, her nipples peaking through her clothes, pressing into my chest.
"Clothes," she breathed, breaking the kiss for a split second, her voice a jagged edge. "Get them off. Now."
She didn't wait for me to comply. She pushed me backward, her kisses migrating to my jaw, then my neck, biting down on the sensitive cord of muscle there. I stumbled back, my heels catching on the edge of the luggage, but she used the momentum to keep me moving. We drifted across the room in a chaotic dance of limbs and friction. Yeji was a whirlwind, her hands diving into my waistband, shoving my trousers down with a frantic energy.
I managed to kick my shoes off, one of them hitting the nightstand with a thud, while she worked on my underwear. She didn't just slide them off; she peeled them away, her eyes never leaving mine for more than a second. When I was finally standing there, completely naked and shivering despite the warmth of the room, Yeji stepped back.
She didn't look away. She looked at me—really looked at me—from the line of my shoulders down to the heavy, pulsing length of my cock, which was already leaking a bead of pre-cum.
"Finally," she whispered.
With a sudden, forceful shove, she pushed me down onto the bed. I hit the mattress with a soft huff, the white linens cool against my back. Yeji stood over me, her silhouette framed by the golden light filtering through the curtains. Slowly, with a deliberate, erotic precision, she began to strip.
She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it blindly toward the corner of the room. Her breasts were perfect, small and firm with aroused nipples. I reached up, my fingers itching to touch her, but she stepped back, a small, commanding smile playing on her lips.
"Wait," she commanded.
She slid her trousers down, the fabric whispering against her skin. She stepped out of them, leaving her in nothing but a pair of lace panties that left nothing to the imagination. The sight of her—the curve of her hips, the softness of her belly, the way her thighs trembled slightly—made my blood roar in my ears. She reached back, hooking her fingers into the lace and sliding the fabric down her legs.
She stood there for a heartbeat, completely nude, her skin glowing in the afternoon light. She looked like a goddess, but the expression on her face was entirely human. She looked hungry.
Before I could even reach for her, before I could utter a single word of praise, Yeji climbed onto the bed. She didn't crawl; she prowled. She moved over me, her knees flanking my hips, and then, with a sudden shift in weight, she pivoted.
She lowered herself directly onto my face.
The air left me in a rush as the wet, hot folds of her pussy pressed firmly against my mouth and nose. The scent hit me instantly—musk, arousal, and that singular, intoxicating Yeji-smell. I could feel the heat radiating from her, the slickness of her juices already soaking into my skin.
She gasped, her voice strained as she shifted her weight, sliding down my body until her face was positioned perfectly between my legs. "I've wanted this since the moment we left the city." The world narrowed down to the sensation of her. I pressed my tongue upward, finding her clit, swirling around the tiny, engorged bud of pleasure. Yeji let out a loud, guttural moan that vibrated through my entire skull. At the same time, her mouth closed around me.
She didn't just suck; she worshipped. Her tongue wrapped around the head of my cock, swirling in a tight, rhythmic circle before she slid her mouth down the shaft. The suction was intense, a vacuum of heat and saliva that made my toes curl. I could hear the wet, shlicking sounds of her tongue working against my skin, the squelch of saliva as she took as much of me as she could handle.
I responded by burying my face deeper into her. I used my tongue to part her lips, delving deep into the creaminess of her center. She tasted sweet and salty, a flood of arousal that coated my tongue. I flicked my tongue rapidly against her clit while sucking on the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
Yeji’s breathing became a series of erratic, high-pitched whimpers. She was shaking, her hands gripping my thighs so hard her nails dug into my skin. The rhythm intensified. Her mouth was a furnace, her tongue dancing over the frenulum, while I worked my way deeper into her, my tongue mimicking the thrusts she would eventually want.
"Ben... Ben, I'm... I'm close," she wailed, the sound muffled by my lap.
She shifted suddenly, pulling away from my cock and sliding back up. She didn't move off my face; instead, she sat directly on it, her weight pressing her pussy firmly against my mouth, sealing us together. She arched her back, her chest thrusting toward the ceiling, her head falling back as the first wave of orgasm hit her.
I could feel her muscles contracting against my lips, the rhythmic pulsing of her walls as she came. A flood of hot, thick juices drenched my face, the taste of her climax filling my mouth. Yeji screamed—a raw, unfiltered sound of release that echoed through the room.
The sight and feel of her coming on my face, the sheer vulnerability and power of it, snapped something inside me. The tension that had been building for months, the longing, the frustration—it all converged into a single point of explosion.
I bucked upward, my hips surging with a violent force. I came with a power that felt like a physical blow, my cum spraying upward in thick, hot jets. Because of the angle, the force sent the white fluid flying, splashing across Yeji’s stomach and chest, and spraying directly across her face.
She gasped, her eyes snapping open as the warm liquid hit her cheeks and forehead. We stayed like that for a moment, locked together, breathing in sync, the room smelling of sex and salt.
Yeji didn't move for a long time. Then, slowly, she shifted, sliding off my face and rolling onto her side. She looked at me, her eyes hazy and pupils still wide. She raised a hand, her thumb wiping a streak of my cum from her cheek.
She didn't wipe it away in disgust. She looked at the white fluid on her thumb, then slowly brought it to her lips and licked it clean, her eyes locked on mine with a predatory intensity.
"Stay still," she whispered.
She moved with a purpose now, her movements slower but more deliberate. She guided my cock, which was already beginning to stir again, toward the entrance of her pussy. She didn't just slide on; she teased the head against her folds, rubbing the slickness of her own juices and my cum across her lips.
"It's time for the wife to give her husband what he deserves," she murmured, her voice a low, sultry purr.
She lowered herself slowly, the friction causing a wet, squelching sound that echoed in the quiet room. I felt my head disappear into her, the tightness of her walls gripping me like a vice. Yeji let out a long, shaky breath, her eyes closing as she settled fully onto me, her cervix meeting the head of my cock.
"Oh god," she whimpered. "You're so... you're so deep."
She began to move, her hips rotating in a slow, grinding circle. I reached up, my hands finding the swell of her breasts, squeezing them as she rose and fell. The sound of our bodies meeting—the slap of her ass against my thighs—became the only rhythm in the world.
Yeji was vocal, her moans turning into passionate, loving declarations.
"I love you," she gasped, her voice breaking. "I love you so much, Ben. I've wanted this... I've wanted you inside me for so long."
She increased the pace, her movements becoming more urgent. She wasn't just riding me; she was claiming me. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against my chest, her sweat mingling with mine. I could feel her internal muscles clamping down on me with every downward thrust, drawing me deeper into her heat.
As she approached her second climax, she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss that felt like a seal of ownership. She put both of her hands on my face, framing my jaw, her fingers digging into my cheeks, refusing to let go. She held me there, her gaze locked on mine, as the orgasm ripped through her.
I felt her walls spasm violently, squeezing the life out of me. My own hand slid down, gripping the curve of her ass, pulling her down hard against me, while my other hand stayed at the back of her head, holding her close. We rode out the wave together, the intimacy of the moment far outweighing the physical pleasure.
When she finally collapsed against me, her breathing ragged and her skin flushed a deep pink, she stayed there for a long time. She felt soft, spent, and completely satisfied.
"I'm... I'm done," she whispered into my neck, her voice trailing off into a contented sigh. "I think... I think the wife has made the husband happy. Maybe we should... go meet the others for dinner."
I felt a shift in my own chest. Watching her like this—undone, vulnerable, and utterly devoted—flipped a switch in me. The softness was gone, replaced by a sudden, towering hunger. I didn't want to stop. I wanted more. I wanted to see her break again.
"Not so fast," I whispered, my voice sounding deeper, even to my own ears.
Yeji blinked, looking up at me with a confused smile. "What?"
"You used the wife card to get your way," I said, my hand sliding from her ass to her waist, gripping her firmly. "Now it's time for the husband card. The wife deserves more pampering after all that hard work she's done."
Before she could protest, I gripped her hips and flipped her over. She let out a small, surprised yelp as I moved her onto her hands and knees. I didn't stop there. I guided her further, pressing her chest down into the mattress while keeping her hips high, her legs spread wide.
I entered her from behind, but I didn't just slide in. I angled my body, lifting one of her legs up and over my hip, creating a steep, deep incline. This was a variation of the Indrani position from the Kama Sutra, designed for maximum depth and contact.
As I thrust forward, I felt myself hit her G-spot—the sensitive area that had become hyper-responsive after her previous orgasms.
Yeji’s reaction was instantaneous. She let out a scream that was barely human, her back arching violently.
"Ben! Oh my god, Ben!"
The pleasure was too much. She began to shake, her movements mirroring the overstimulation Ryujin often described. Every thrust felt like an electric shock, a wave of intensity that threatened to drown her. She was moaning loudly now, the sounds raw and desperate, her fingers clawing at the sheets.
"Too much... it's too much!" she wailed, but she pushed her hips back against me, demanding more.
I didn't let up. I hammered into her, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room with a rhythmic, visceral thud. I could feel her internal walls fluttering, pulsing around me in a frantic attempt to absorb the pleasure. She was hovering on the edge of a third, massive climax, her voice reduced to fragmented whimpers.
"Please... please, Ben... give it to me... all of it!"
I felt the pressure building in my gut, a tidal wave that I could no longer hold back. With one final, deep surge, I buried myself as far as I could go, pinning her against the mattress.
I came inside her with a force that made my entire body shudder. I could feel the hot, thick pulses of my seed filling her, the warmth spreading through her core. Yeji let out a final, long moan, her head falling forward as she collapsed into the bed, her body still twitching from the intensity of the release.
We lay there in the wreckage of the room, the curtains fluttering in the breeze, the ocean calling from the balcony. The silence returned, but it was different now. It wasn't a vacuum; it was a sanctuary.
Yeji shifted, rolling over to look at me. Her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were filled with a softness that made my heart ache. She looked embarrassed for a fleeting second, remembering how aggressive she had been, but then she smiled—a real, genuine smile—and pulled me close.
"I think," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I really like these wife privileges."
For a second, I forgot how to answer. Not because I did not have a joke. I had several. All of them terrible. All of them dangerous.
But Yeji was looking at me with her hair ruined, her lips swollen, her skin still warm against mine, and that tiny embarrassed smile caught between pride and disbelief. The kind of smile she only gave when she had surprised herself first.
So for once, I did the smarter thing. I kissed her. Softly this time. No urgency. Just my mouth against hers, slow enough that she melted into it instead of trying to win. Her hand slid up my chest, fingers brushing over the place where her name was still hidden beneath my shirt somewhere on the floor, and she laughed quietly against my lips.
“What?” I asked. Her cheeks colored “I’m thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
I smiled “About?”
She hid her face against my neck “No.”
“Yeji.”
“No.”
“Wife privileges?”
Her hand hit my chest weakly.
“Don’t ruin it.”
“I’m not ruining it. I’m appreciating the policy.”
“There is no policy.”
“There are clearly benefits.”
She groaned into my skin “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her silence lasted too long. Then, very quietly, she said, “No. I don’t.” That did something to me. More than the teasing. More than the way she had said wife earlier like it belonged in her mouth. More than the tattoo. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer until she was lying half on top of me, her cheek against my chest, one leg tangled between mine. The room had gone still again, but this time it did not feel empty. It felt protected.
Outside, the ocean moved beyond the balcony.
Inside, Yeji traced idle shapes against my skin. For a while, neither of us spoke. That was new. Not because we had nothing to say. Because for once, nothing needed defending. Her breathing slowed first. Then mine followed. I pressed a kiss into her hair, and she made a small sound like she wanted to complain but did not have the strength to commit to it. “You okay?” I asked. She nodded against me.
Then, after a pause, she lifted her head “You?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed “That was too fast.”
“I’m very okay.”
“Ben.”
I smiled “I am happy.”
That softened her. She looked down, embarrassed again, but this time she did not hide. “Me too.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear “You were very scary.” Her eyes flicked back to mine. “You deserved it.”
“I did.”
“You kept calling me your wife.”
“I did.”
“In front of everyone.”
“I did.”
“And then you put my name on your chest.”
“You chose the hearts.”
Her mouth twitched “They were artistically necessary.”
“Of course.”
“And private.”
“Apparently not, since John betrayed me with documentary evidence.”
Yeji covered her face “I still cannot believe he showed everyone.”
“I can. John is a wounded animal. He wanted collateral.”
She laughed. Soft and happy. Then she kissed me again. That one lasted longer. It started gentle, but Yeji had a way of making even softness feel like a decision. Her fingers found my jaw, holding me there as if I might escape, even though both of us knew I had nowhere else I wanted to be.
I kissed her back until she sighed into my mouth. Until her shoulders loosened. Until the leader finally stopped standing guard behind her eyes. When she pulled away, she stayed close enough for our noses to brush.
“For the record,” she whispered, “I am still your girlfriend.”
“I know.”
“Not wife.”
“I know.”
She stared at me. I stared back. Then she added, quieter, “Yet.”
The word barely existed. But I heard it. My heart stopped so violently that it should have triggered the resort’s medical standby. Yeji realized what she had said and immediately tried to roll away. I caught her “Nope.”
“Ben.”
“No. Come back.”
“I said nothing.”
“You said theology.”
“I said one word.”
“One devastating word.”
She buried her face against my shoulder “I hate this room.”
“This room has done nothing wrong.”
“This room has heard too much.”
“The walls signed an NDA.”
She laughed again, and I felt it against my chest. For a while, that was all we did. Cuddle. Kiss. Talk in fragments. Pretend we were not both trying to memorize what it felt like to be this quiet together. Eventually, Yeji’s hand drifted lower and found my wrist. She turned it slightly, checking the time.
Then went still.
I felt it before I understood it “What?” She lifted my wrist closer. Then her head snapped up “Ben.”
“What?”
“We’re late.”
I blinked “For what?”
“Dinner.”
The word landed like a siren. We both moved at once. Badly. Yeji sat up too fast, winced, then pointed at me before I could comment “Do not.”
“I said nothing.”
“You thought something.”
“That is not illegal.”
“It will be if you smile.”
I did not smile. Technically. She scrambled toward the edge of the bed, then stopped when she looked around the room. The room looked like it had lost an argument. Clothes on the floor. One of my shirt buttons near the curtain. A pillow halfway off the mattress. The blankets destroyed beyond reasonable explanation. Yeji stared. Then slowly looked back at me.
“We need to get clothed.”
“We need to be at dinner.”
“We need all three.”
She closed her eyes.
“We are doomed.”
“Probably.”
“Benjie.”
I got up. She grabbed a pillow and threw it at me. We managed to shower, dress, and make the room look less like a crime scene in record time. Not clean, but survivable. Yeji fixed her hair in the mirror with the focus of someone preparing for a comeback stage instead of dinner with women who already knew too much. I buttoned a fresh shirt all the way up because I had learned at least one lesson in the past twenty-four hours.
Yeji noticed.
“Good.”
“I can behave.”
“No, you can be managed.”
“That sounds like wife work.”
She pointed the hairbrush at me “Do not start.” I smiled. She tried not to, she failed. We were twenty-three minutes late. Which was not ideal. But also not catastrophic. Until we reached the dining pavilion and the entire table went silent. That was catastrophic. Every head turned. ITZY. TWICE. John. Jihyo. Mina.
Even Momo stopped eating.
That, more than anything, told me we were in danger. Yeji straightened beside me. Damaged, but functional “Sorry we’re late.”
No one spoke.
Then Ryujin leaned back in her chair and smiled. Slowly “Oh?”
“No,” Yeji said immediately. Ryujin’s smile widened.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Yuna looked between us, eyes bright with the kind of joy only danger could produce “You both look very… rested.” Lia closed her eyes “Yuna.”
“What? I said rested.” Nayeon leaned forward, chin in her hand “Rested is generous.” Sana smiled sweetly “Glowing?” Yeji’s face turned pink “We lost track of time.” John stared at me “You lost track of dinner?”
“Apparently.”
“You?”
“I was busy.”
The table inhaled as one organism. Yeji’s head whipped toward me.
“Ben.”
“What? With unpacking.”
Dahyun lifted her imaginary microphone “Breaking news: local couple claims unpacking after arriving twenty-three minutes late to dinner.”
“I did not claim couple,” Yeji said.
Mina looked at her plate “You did not deny unpacking.”
Yeji turned toward Mina, betrayed “Mina.”
“It is a factual gap.”
Ryujin pointed at the two empty seats “Sit down before this gets worse.”
“That sounds merciful,” I said.
Ryujin smiled “It is not.”
We sat. Unfortunately, sitting did not help. Because the silence kept smiling at us. Chaeryeong, who had clearly been trying very hard not to participate, looked at Yeji with gentle concern “Unnie, are you okay?” Yeji froze. The table froze with her. I looked at my water. Cowardly, but necessary. Yeji cleared her throat “Yes.”
Ryujin’s eyes sharpened “Physically?”
“Ryujin,” Lia warned.
Yuna leaned forward “Private resort does not mean subtle resort.”
Yeji closed her eyes. I stopped breathing. Jihyo slowly lowered her utensils “What does that mean?” Lia looked at Yuna “Do not.” Yuna looked at her “They were not quiet.”
The table detonated.
Yeji covered her face. I stared into the middle distance and accepted death. Nayeon slammed both hands on the table “I knew it.” Sana gasped like she had just witnessed romance itself walk into the room. Dahyun’s imaginary microphone returned instantly “Breaking news: honeymoon logistics confirmed by acoustic evidence.”
“It was not honeymoon logistics,” Yeji said through her hands. Ryujin leaned toward her “Unnie.”
“No.”
“You screamed.”
“Ryujin!”
Momo blinked. Then looked at John “Is that what we heard?” John choked on his drink. Jihyo closed her eyes “Do not answer that.” Nayeon turned to John anyway “Manager-nim.”
“No.”
“You never did that when we arrived somewhere.”
“I am begging you not to compare arrival protocols.”
Sana tilted her head “Why not?”
“Because that phrase already sounds illegal.”
Jeongyeon crossed her arms “Ben arrives at a resort and immediately treats his wife properly.”
Yeji’s face went fully red “I am not his wife.”
Tzuyu looked at her calmly “But the room heard otherwise.”
The table exploded again. I covered my mouth. Not because I was embarrassed— because if I laughed, Yeji would kill me. Lia, somehow, tried to restore dignity “Maybe we should let them eat.”
“Thank you,” Yeji said weakly.
Lia nodded, then added, “They probably need energy.”
Yeji stared at her. Lia took a sip of water, expression perfectly calm “Traitor,” Yeji whispered. Ryujin looked delighted “Vacation Lia is dangerous.” Yuna nodded “She has timing.” Nayeon pointed at John “See? Even Lia understands the standard.” John looked betrayed by the entire world “I drove for hours. I handled logistics. I survived Ben. I deserve peace.” Jihyo looked at him “You also streamed his tattoo video to everyone.” John paused and then nodded “I deserved that part.”
Dahyun lifted her imaginary microphone again “TWICE files formal complaint: lack of honeymoon-grade welcome treatment.” John pointed at her “No filing.” Sana smiled “Just verbal complaint.” Momo raised her hand slightly “Can dinner still continue during the complaint?” Chaeryeong immediately nodded “Yes.”
“Good,” Momo said, and returned to eating. Mina looked toward me “Was the room satisfactory?” Yeji made a strangled sound. John put his head in his hands. I stared at Mina “The room was excellent.” Mina nodded “Good.” Nayeon grinned “Apparently.” Yeji grabbed her glass of water and drank like it was the only thing keeping her alive. I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice “You okay?”
She did not look at me “No.”
“Do you want me to stop them?”
“You cannot stop them.”
“That is true.”
Her eyes flicked toward me. Then down to my shirt. Still buttoned. Still hiding everything. Her voice dropped “If you show even one letter at this table, I will push you into the ocean.” I smiled faintly “Yes, my dear wife.”
She kicked my ankle under the table. Hard. I deserved it. Unfortunately, Nayeon saw “She kicked him.” Sana gasped “Domestic.”
Dahyun lifted the microphone “Breaking news: wife disciplines husband at dinner after honeymoon scandal.” Yeji pointed at Dahyun “No more breaking news.” Dahyun lowered her hand “For now.” Jihyo finally clapped once “Enough. Let them eat.” The authority in her voice worked… Mostly.
People returned to their plates, but the table stayed lighter now. The kind of laughter that did not need to be loud to keep circling back. Yuna kept smiling into her food. Ryujin kept glancing at Yeji like she had discovered a new favorite weakness. Lia looked too pleased with herself for someone who had pretended to be the voice of reason all morning. TWICE, meanwhile, continued punishing John in smaller ways.
Nayeon asked if he needed “arrival training.”
Sana suggested a retreat workshop.
Dahyun offered to document improvement.
Jeongyeon said he could start with eye contact and work his way up.
Momo said dinner first.
Tzuyu quietly added that expectations had now been established.
John looked at me across the table “I hate you.” I lifted my glass “You should have taken notes.” The TWICE side erupted. John pointed at me “You are the problem.”
Yeji, still pink, still embarrassed, still glowing in a way everyone could see, reached under the table and found my hand. No one saw that part. Or if they did, they were kind enough not to say anything. For once.
Yeji’s fingers threaded through mine. I looked at her and she did not look back. But her thumb brushed once over my knuckles. A private answer in the middle of a public execution. The first dinner of the retreat continued around us. Too full of people who knew too much and somehow, for the first time since we arrived, it felt exactly like what we had come here for.
It wasn’t peace, not yet. But release. A place where embarrassment could become laughter. Where privacy did not mean silence. Where Yeji could be late to dinner, red-faced and furious, and still have her hand in mine beneath the table.
Across from us, Ryujin leaned toward Yuna and whispered something. Yuna’s eyes widened. Lia immediately said, “No.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Ryujin replied.
“You were about to.”
Chaeryeong smiled into her plate. Momo reached for another serving. Nayeon started bothering John again. Jihyo pretended not to enjoy it. Mina quietly checked the dessert options. And Yeji, my not-wife girlfriend, the leader with wife privileges, squeezed my hand once more. I smiled into my glass. Dinner was late and the vacation, apparently, had started properly.
Dinner lasted longer than it should have. Not because anyone was still hungry. Momo was, obviously, but that was a separate condition.
Dinner lasted because nobody wanted to be the first one to admit they were tired. The first night of the retreat had settled over us slowly, warm and salt-heavy, with the ocean breathing somewhere beyond the lights of the dining pavilion. The staff had cleared most of the plates. Dessert had appeared without anyone asking. Mina had approved the plating with one quiet nod, which somehow made the chef look more relieved than when Jihyo thanked him.
Eventually, the table broke apart into smaller pieces. Not groups exactly. More like currents.
Momo and Chaeryeong drifted toward the kitchen with a seriousness that suggested diplomatic negotiations over breakfast. Yuna cornered Dahyun and Sana with her activity notebook, which immediately made Lia stand up with a sigh and follow them like a woman trying to prevent a recreational felony. Ryujin and Nayeon had started whispering again, and John noticed too late. “No,” he said from across the table.
Ryujin looked offended “We have said nothing.”
“That is usually when the damage starts.”
Nayeon smiled “Manager-nim, you wound me.”
“I am trying to prevent being wounded.”
Jihyo stood, folder tucked beneath one arm, and looked toward Yeji “Can I borrow you for a minute?” Yeji looked up from beside me “For logistics?”
“For logistics,” Jihyo said. Sana appeared behind Jihyo, smiling too brightly “And wife privileges.” Yeji’s face went red immediately “No.” Nayeon lifted one hand “Emotional logistics.” Dahyun raised her imaginary microphone “Breaking news: senior leaders convene to discuss honeymoon noise policy.” Jihyo pointed at her without looking “No.” Dahyun lowered her hand “For now.”
Yeji turned toward me, still pink, still trying very hard to look like this was a normal dinner and not a public trial “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll survive.”
Ryujin snorted “Barely.” Yeji gave her a look, then leaned closer to me just enough for only me to hear “Behave.” I smiled “You first.” Her eyes narrowed. The wife voice almost came out. Then she seemed to remember where we were and only shook her head, but her fingers brushed mine under the table before she let go.
It was small, private, more importantly— enough.
Then TWICE took her. Not aggressively. Worse, playfully. Nayeon hooked an arm through hers. Sana took the other side. Jihyo walked ahead like this was an actual strategy meeting and not Yeji being escorted to a tribunal. Mina followed behind them, calm as ever, and said something about the morning schedule. Yeji glanced back once. Not worried. Not possessive. Just checking. I gave her a small nod. She rolled her eyes like I had done something annoying. Then smiled before turning away. That smile stayed with me after she disappeared down the garden path with them.
For a while, I remained at the table. John sat across from me, watching TWICE drag Yeji away “That,” he said, “is how it starts.”
“What?”
“First they ask for logistics. Then they ask for feelings. Then somehow you are apologizing for things you did in a hypothetical future.” I looked at him “You speak from experience?” He stared into his drink “I speak from survival.”
Across the pavilion, Ryujin laughed too loudly at something Nayeon said from a distance despite not even being part of that conversation anymore. Yuna was arguing that “optional midnight bonding” was different from “mandatory midnight bonding.” Lia had taken the notebook and was holding it above her head while Yuna tried to reach for it.
Chaeryeong returned from the kitchen with Momo beside her, both looking strangely satisfied. The first night was loosening. The kind of loosening that came from realizing nobody had tried to take a picture of them for hours.
Nobody had shouted their names from beyond a barricade. Nobody had watched them eat through a screen. I stood before the feeling could get too large. John noticed “Where are you going?”
“For air.”
He narrowed his eyes “No cigarettes.”
I looked at him “Yeji said the same thing.”
“Good. I like being alive.”
“I’m not smoking.”
“Good.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Bad.”
I left before he could continue. The path beyond the pavilion curved toward the beach. Lights were hidden low among the stones, soft enough not to ruin the night sky. The resort was quiet in a way the Top Floor never could be. The Top Floor had silence, sometimes. But it was city silence. Elevator silence. Glass-wall silence. Money pretending to be peace.
This was different. This was ocean and darkness and distance. I stopped near the edge of the sand, where the stone path gave way beneath my shoes. The wind moved warm against my face. For the first time that day, I did not immediately think about logistics.
Then a voice behind me said, “You really didn’t smoke.”
I turned. Lia stood a few steps away, holding two cups. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her expression quiet in the way it became when she had decided to say something before she was ready. I smiled faintly.
“Were you checking?”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I brought tea as a cover story.”
“That is more suspicious than just checking.”
She looked down at the cups. Then back at me “It’s good tea.” I accepted one “Thank you.” She moved beside me, leaving enough space that it did not feel accidental, but close enough that it did not feel distant either. For a while, we watched the water.
The sound of the others drifted faintly from the pavilion behind us. Laughter. A muffled shout from Yuna. Jihyo’s voice cutting through something with leader precision. Yeji laughing after that, small and embarrassed and happy.
Lia heard it too. Her eyes softened “She sounds different here.”
“Yeji?”
Lia nodded “Lighter.”
I looked toward the lights “She deserves to be.”
“She does.”
The words were simple. But the way Lia said them was not. I looked at her. She was still watching the water, both hands wrapped around her cup. “And you?” I asked.
Her mouth curved faintly “I knew you would ask that.”
“Should I not?”
“No.”
She took a breath “You should.”
The wind moved between us. Lia looked down into her tea like it might offer instructions.
“I thought coming here would make things quieter,” she said.
“Has it?”
“A little.” Then she smiled, but it was tired “Also no.”
I waited. That was something I had learned with Lia. If you filled the silence too quickly, she would let you. She would nod, soften, make room for everyone else’s words. But if you waited, sometimes she gave you something real.
She did this time “I have feelings for you,” she said quietly.
I did not move. Not because I was surprised. Because I knew this sentence had cost her more than she wanted anyone to see. Lia’s fingers tightened around the cup “I know that’s not new. Not exactly. I think I’ve known for a while. I think everyone else probably knew before I wanted them to.”
A small laugh escaped her. Embarrassed and soft “But knowing and doing something about it are not the same.”
“No,” I said. “They’re not.” Her eyes lifted to mine. That was the dangerous part. Not the confession. The looking. Lia could hide in careful words if she wanted to. But her eyes had always been worse at lying “I don’t want to be left behind,” she whispered. My chest tightened “Lia.”
“I know no one is doing that to me.” she shook her head gently, stopping me before I could reassure her too fast.
“I know. That’s not what I mean.”
She looked back toward the pavilion. Toward the people laughing under warm lights. Toward the life that had somehow become too complicated to name simply “I just mean… everyone is moving. In their own way. Yeji knows where she stands. Ryujin acts like fear is something she can flirt with until it gives up. Yuna is scared and still jumps anyway.”
Her voice softened “And Chaeryeong…” She paused. I watched her. Lia did not finish that thought. Instead, she looked at me again “I’m not like them.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I know.”
But again, her voice trembled enough to reveal the problem. Knowing was not believing. Not fully. Lia set her tea down on the low stone wall beside us. Then she stepped closer. Not much. Enough that I noticed. Enough that she noticed me noticing. Her breath caught, and for one second, I thought she might step back. She did not.
“Can I try something?” she asked. My voice came out lower than I expected. “Yes.”
She searched my face “You don’t know what it is.”
“I trust you.”
That almost broke her.
I saw it in the way her eyes softened too quickly, in the way her lips parted around a breath she did not release. Then Lia reached for me. Her hand touched my arm first.
Careful. Testing. Then slid down to my wrist, like she needed something smaller than my face to hold onto before she could be brave enough for the rest. I stayed still. Lia stepped closer again. Then she kissed me.
It was not like Yeji. Not collision. Not fire finally finding air. Lia’s kiss was quiet. Deliberate. A question asked with trembling courage. Her lips touched mine softly, then pressed a little firmer when I did not pull away. Her fingers tightened around my wrist. For one second, she seemed to freeze inside the decision she had made.
Then I kissed her back. Carefully. Slow enough that she could stop me. Soft enough that she could stay. Lia made a tiny sound against my mouth. Not surprise, it was relief.
That sound nearly undid me more than anything else could have. Her other hand lifted, hovering near my chest. For a moment, she almost touched me there. Almost pulled herself closer. Almost crossed from kiss into something larger.
Then she stopped.
Her fingers curled in the air before they reached me. Not away. Just short of more. I felt the hesitation like a held breath between us. So I kept still. Careful “Lia.” Her eyes opened. Soft. Startled. Like she already knew what I had seen.
“You don’t have to force yourself.”
Her hand lowered slightly “I know.”
But her voice said she was trying to. Not because she did not want this. Because she did. Because wanting it made her feel like she had to keep proving she was ready for all of it at once. I covered the hand holding my wrist with mine. Not to keep her there. Only to let her feel that she could let go without losing anything.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Lia looked at me for a long moment. The ocean moved behind her. The pavilion laughter carried faintly through the trees. Then she exhaled, almost laughing. Almost breaking.
“That’s the problem.”
I smiled faintly “Is it?”
Her eyes dropped to my mouth again. Then back to mine.
“No,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”
But she did not move further. And I did not ask her to. For tonight, this was enough. Her choice. Her kiss. Her stopping point. And the first time she did not run from wanting more. Lia leaned forward after a moment and rested her forehead lightly against my shoulder. It was so gentle that it almost hurt “Is this okay?” she asked.
I looked down at her “With me?”
“With Yeji.”
The question was quiet. Important. I turned my head toward the pavilion lights. Yeji was still somewhere beyond them, probably being emotionally tortured by Nayeon and Sana while Jihyo pretended not to enjoy it.
I smiled softly “She knows you matter to me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
Lia lifted her head. I met her eyes “And if you need to hear the other part, I will talk to her. Properly. Not because this was wrong. Because you deserve not to carry uncertainty by yourself.”
Lia’s face changed. Not fully relieved. But steadier.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
She nodded. Then, after a second, she leaned in and kissed me again. Shorter this time. Still soft. But less afraid.
When she pulled back, her cheeks were pink “That’s enough for tonight.”
I smiled “Okay.”
“Don’t sound proud of me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I am a little.”
She groaned and looked away “That is embarrassing.”
“It is also true.”
Lia picked up her tea again, but her hand was steadier now. We stood there for another minute, shoulder to shoulder, watching the water. Just letting the first step be exactly what it was.
From the pavilion, Yuna’s voice suddenly rose “Lia?” Lia closed her eyes “I am going to throw that notebook into the ocean.” I laughed “She found you.”
“She always finds me when she needs supervision.”
“Do you want to go back?”
Lia looked at the water. Then at me. Then she smiled, small and tired and real “In a minute.” So we took one more minute. The retreat continued behind us. But out here, beneath the night air, Lia had crossed the smallest line in the quietest way. And somehow, that made it feel larger than if she had run.
By the time I returned to the villa, the resort had gone quiet in pieces. Not asleep. Not fully. Somewhere beyond the garden path, I could still hear faint laughter from the pavilion. Yuna’s voice rose once, immediately followed by Lia saying something that sounded like a warning. Ryujin laughed after that. Then the ocean swallowed the rest.
Our room was dim when I stepped inside.
Only the balcony light was on.
Yeji sat outside with one knee drawn up beneath her, wearing one of my shirts like she had every right to steal from my suitcase. Her hair was loose now, brushed soft over one shoulder. The night wind moved through it gently.
She did not turn around immediately. That was how I knew she knew. Not everything. But enough. I closed the door behind me. Yeji looked over her shoulder.
“Hi.”
Her voice was soft. Not suspicious. Not angry. Just awake.
“Hi.” I said back.
I walked toward the balcony, slower than I needed to. Yeji watched me the whole way.
“You were gone for a while.”
“I know.”
She turned back toward the ocean. I sat beside her, leaving a careful space between us at first. Yeji noticed. Of course she did. After everything that had happened today, she still noticed the smallest distance.
“Ben.”
I looked at her. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were too clear for me to pretend badly.
“What happened?”
I exhaled.
“Lia kissed me.”
Yeji did not move. The ocean filled the silence for a few seconds. Then she nodded once. Small. Controlled.
“Okay.”
I waited. Because okay did not mean finished. It meant she was making room for the rest.
“She found me by the beach,” I said. “I went out for air after dinner. No cigarette.”
Yeji glanced at me.
“Good.”
“I thought you would ask.”
“I was going to.”
That almost made me smile. Almost.
“She said she has feelings for me.”
Yeji’s face softened by a degree.
“She said it?”
“Yes.”
“That must have been hard for her.”
“It was.”
Yeji looked down at her hands.
“Did she force herself?”
That question hit me harder than jealousy would have. Because of course that was the first thing Yeji asked. Not whether Lia touched me. Not whether I kissed her back. Not whether she should be upset. Whether Lia had pushed herself past what she could handle.
“No,” I said quietly. “But she almost tried to.”
Yeji’s eyes lifted to mine.
“She kissed me first,” I continued. “I kissed her back. Carefully. She reached for more, then stopped herself.”
Yeji listened without interrupting.
“I told her she didn’t have to force herself.”
Her shoulders loosened. Just slightly.
“That was the right thing to say.”
“I hoped it was.”
“It was.”
The certainty in her voice settled something in me. I leaned back against the balcony chair and stared out at the dark water.
“She asked if it was okay with you.”
Yeji looked at me. I turned back to her.
“I told her I would talk to you properly. Not because it was wrong, but because she deserves not to carry uncertainty by herself.”
For a while, Yeji said nothing. Then she reached across the small space between us and took my hand. Her fingers slid between mine, warm and steady.
“Thank you for telling me.”
I looked down at our hands.
“I always will.”
“I know.”
Her thumb moved once over my knuckles.
“But I still appreciate it.”
That somehow hurt more than being scolded. Yeji looked at the ocean again.
“I’m not angry.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I looked at her. She smiled faintly, but it was tired.
“I wanted to know,” I admitted. “Not because I thought you would be cruel. I know you wouldn’t. But because this is… a lot.”
“It is.”
“And it keeps getting bigger.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow I keep standing in the middle of all of you, trying not to ruin something I don’t even fully understand yet.”
Yeji’s grip tightened.
“You’re not standing in the middle alone.”
I looked at her. She looked back. In that way that still felt too undeserved to name carelessly.
“You came back and told me,” she said. “That matters.”
“I will always come back and tell you.”
“I need that.”
“I know.”
“No.” Her voice dropped softer. “I need you to know I need that. Not because I don’t trust you. Not because I think Lia did anything wrong. But because silence makes stories when people are scared.”
That line stayed in the air between us.
“Then no silence.”
“No silence,” she repeated.
I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. Yeji watched me do it, expression softening despite herself.
“She has been standing at the edge for a while,” she said.
“Lia?”
Yeji nodded.
“I think she knows what she feels. She just doesn’t know how to move without feeling like one step means she has to take all of them.”
“That’s what it felt like.”
“Then don’t pull her over.”
“I won’t.”
“Let her step.”
“I will.”
Yeji turned her face toward the water again.
“She deserves that.”
“She does.”
“And if she stops, let her stop.”
“I did.”
“I know.”
Her voice gentled “That is why I’m not angry.”
I looked at her for a long moment. Then something in me broke open quietly. The kind of feeling that arrived without asking and sat directly in the center of my chest.
“You know,” I said, “every time I think I understand how much I love you, you make it worse.”
Yeji blinked. Her cheeks colored “Ben.”
“I mean it.”
She looked down, but I did not let myself stop. Not this time.
“I don’t know how to explain this without sounding insane.”
“That has never stopped you before.”
I smiled faintly “Fair.”
Her thumb brushed my hand again. So I tried. “Everything around us is complicated. Everyone matters. I care about them. I don’t want to lie about that. I don’t want to diminish it because that would be unfair to them, and it would be unfair to you too.” Yeji stayed quiet. Listening. “But my heart keeps finding you first.” Her breath caught. I looked at her properly. “No matter how loud the room gets. No matter who needs me. No matter what happens with anyone else. I come back to you in my head before I even know I’m doing it.”
Yeji’s eyes softened. “You’re the place I return to,” I said. “Not because you demand it. Not because you hold it over anyone. Because you keep choosing me even when you could make this harder. You keep choosing honesty over jealousy. You keep choosing kindness toward them when it would be easier to make everything smaller so it hurts less.”
Her eyes shone now. She looked away quickly, but I saw it. I always saw her. “That does not make me perfect,” she whispered. “I don’t need perfect. I need you.”
She turned back to me. The words had landed. I could see it in the way her face changed, embarrassment and tenderness fighting for space. “I love them in the ways this life has made possible,” I said quietly. “But I love you like home.”
Yeji’s mouth trembled slightly “Do not say things like that if you don’t want me to cry.”
“I can stop.”
“No.”
I smiled “No?”
She shook her head once “No.”
So I leaned closer “I love you, Yeji.”
Her eyes closed for a second. Like she needed to hold the words somewhere safe before answering. Then she opened them and looked at me “I love you too.”
Simple. Barely above a whisper. Enough to undo me. I cupped her cheek. She leaned into my hand without hesitation. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then she said, very softly:
“I’m still your girlfriend.”
“I know.”
“Not your wife.”
“I know.”
Her eyes narrowed faintly “But…”
I waited. Her cheeks turned pink again “But if you keep being honest with me like this, I might keep letting you get away with calling me that.” I smiled slowly “That sounds like a policy.”
“It is not a policy.”
“Wife privileges?”
She groaned “Do not ruin the emotional moment.”
“I would never.”
“You are actively doing it.”
“I love you.”
She tried to glare. Failed immediately. Then she leaned forward and kissed me. Loving in a way that made the rest of the night quiet around us.
I kissed her back with both hands careful at her waist, not pulling too hard, not asking for more. Just holding her there. Letting the kiss be what it needed to be after everything else the day had carried.
When she pulled away, her forehead rested against mine.
“I’m glad you came back,” she whispered.
“I always will.”
Her eyes stayed closed “Good.”
“Because my wife would be annoyed if I didn’t?”
Her eyes opened. She stared at me. Then, despite herself, she smiled “Yes,” she said. “Very annoyed.” I laughed quietly. She kissed me again before I could make it worse.
Eventually, we went back inside.
The room was still softly lit, the bed still imperfect from earlier, the ocean still moving beyond the balcony doors. Yeji turned off the light while I pulled the blanket back. She climbed in first, then immediately reached for me like the conversation had left her too tender to pretend she did not need contact.
I joined her.
She settled against my chest, one arm across my waist, her leg tucked between mine. I wrapped myself around her and pressed a kiss into her hair. For a while, she traced lazy circles against my side. Then her hand drifted to my chest. To the place beneath the fabric where her name still rested in temporary ink.
She did not say anything. She only left her hand there. I covered it with mine. Yeji exhaled softly “Tomorrow,” she murmured, half-asleep already, “no chaos.”
I closed my eyes “Of course.”
A pause. Then, from somewhere deep in her fading consciousness
“That sounded fake.”
“It was a little fake.”
Her tired laugh warmed my chest.
“Good night, Benjie.”
“Good night, Yeji.”
She shifted closer. Still mine. Still herself. Still choosing me. And for the first time since the retreat began, the silence did not feel like something waiting to be broken.
It felt like rest.