The Bunch of Rules

The moment he left, I threw the stack of papers toward the corner of the bed.

“What does he think of himself?!” I snapped under my breath.

The anger burning inside me surprised even me.

It was stronger than the rage I had felt toward my cousin—the same cousin who had spent years taking everything that was supposed to be mine without an ounce of guilt.

But this?

This felt different.

Humiliating.

As if every word Jung Ji-hoon spoke carried the quiet reminder that I was only here because he permitted it.

I crossed my arms tightly and began pacing around the room.

Rules.

Restrictions.

Warnings.

And that ridiculous threat about sending me to a farm.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips again.

“Unbelievable.”

Still… almost half an hour later, my anger slowly cooled into something more practical.

Reality.

No matter how offended I felt, I still needed a place to stay.

A roof.

Stability.

And right now, whether I liked it or not, this mansion was the only thing standing between me and having nowhere to go.

With a tired sigh, I walked toward the bed and picked up the scattered papers.

The pages crinkled softly in my hands as I sat down.

“Let’s see how insane this family really is,” I muttered.

I started reading.

Rule One: You are not allowed to roam freely around the house.

My expression flattened immediately.

Only your room and attached washroom are assigned to you. You may use the living room if necessary.

I stared at the sentence for several long seconds.

My blood already started boiling.

Assigned to me?

Like I was some temporary guest.

Or worse—

A problem they wanted contained.

I flipped the page harder than necessary.

Do not disturb Mr. Jung. He prefers silence.

I paused.

Then, unwillingly, a small thought slipped into my mind.

That… actually sounded a little like me.

I liked silence too.

Crowded noise exhausted me. Forced conversations irritated me.

For a brief second, I almost understood him.

Almost.

Then I shook my head sharply.

“No,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t start sympathizing with him already.”

I continued reading.

The deeper I went, the worse it became.

Restrictions on where I could go.

Restrictions on who I could talk to.

Restrictions on guests.

Restrictions on family visits.

It didn’t feel like rules for a marriage.

It felt like conditions for imprisonment.

My grip tightened around the papers.

But then—

My eyes landed on one line that finally stopped the storm inside me.

You may continue your employment and maintain your coffee shop as long as it does not interfere with household matters.

I blinked once.

Then again.

My coffee shop.

He was allowing me to keep it.

The tension in my shoulders loosened slightly for the first time that night.

That tiny café wasn’t just work.

It was mine.

The only thing in my life I had built with my own hands. My dream, my freedom, my escape from depending on anyone.

Every memory I truly loved existed there.

The smell of fresh coffee beans in the morning.

The warm lights.

The regular customers who greeted me like family.

That place was my whole world.

And suddenly, I realized something important.

If Jung Ji-hoon had tried to take that away from me—

I would have divorced him immediately.

No hesitation.

No fear of consequences.

Because surviving without dignity was one thing.

But surviving without myself?

That, I could never do.

I leaned back slowly against the headboard, the papers resting in my lap now.

The mansion was suffocating.

The marriage felt fake.

And my husband was impossible to understand.

But at least one thing still belonged to me.

My dream.

And maybe—

For now—

That was enough to keep me here.

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