"Hit a nerve, did I?" He looked like he wanted to kill me. Too bad for him—I-Tim has never been afraid of anyone.
"You have no right to question me. Just do your job. Don't criticize my relationship with my sons. Since you're already close to them, step up as a proper guardian. I'm giving you full authority over them. Handle it the way a mother would."
"But I'm only—" twenty-five, for heaven's sake!
"No 'buts.' And the same goes for your duties as my wife. You'll wake up early and cook. Prepare my clothes and shoes, just as I told you. Oh—and you'll help me get dressed, too."
"I didn't realize the era of dictators was still in full swing," I muttered. What exactly am I allowed to do, then? "If you're going to treat me like this, why not just hire a maid?"
"My grandmother paid a fortune for you—why should I let anyone else do the work?"
"But I'm—" the lady of the house! Seriously. Married to a Minister, yet I can't even sit comfortably. Who knew having a husband would be this exhausting?
"It's your duty. Also, in a month, I'll be attending an overseas conference. My secretary was seriously injured in an accident, so you'll be coming with me as my acting assistant."
"I have a training program at the district."
"You're free. I already checked. It's settled—now go."
"I get motion sickness on planes. Every time I fly, I feel like I'm dying," I tried to lie my way out of it.
"You've traveled to Singapore once, China once, and Korea twice. Nice try."
"Minister!"
He must have had someone dig up my entire life. What kind of karma did I accumulate to end up with this man? Short-tempered, controlling—my privacy was evaporating into thin air.
"Well, since we're already in this mess together, I want something in return. I don't think it's too much to ask. If we're going down, let's go all in."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting me to haggle. Look, I'm not that attached to my pride. I'm under his roof and legally his wife. Honestly, I do hope this marriage lasts—despite being constantly disappointed by my former idol's personality.
"Is that a no? Am I asking for too much?" He kept that same unreadable expression. He was probably wondering if I was the type to bleed my husband dry.
"I'm really not asking for much. This is the only thing."
"…"
"Hey! Were you cursed into silence? I'm just asking you to clear the remaining payments on my car. That's it. I don't want to bother my mom anymore. I have a rule: once I start working, I don't ask her for a dime—no matter how expensive your world gets."
When I bought the car, my mom paid the down payment. But my current salary as a junior teacher just isn't enough. People say teachers are well-paid—sure, if you're senior staff. These days, the criteria for a promotion are brutal. Advancement is slow, and people like me just have to bow our heads and accept reality.
"I'll take care of it."
"Really?" When he wants to be decisive, he really is. So what was with all the brooding?
"You can refuse the offer if you prefer."
"I won't! I won't! Thank you, sir!" I quickly pressed my palms together in a wai. At least my husband isn't a cheapskate.
"I told you not to call me that. I hate it."
"Then what should I call you, Sir Minister?"
"You can call me 'husband,' 'dear,' whatever—just not that."
"But you are a Minister."
"And I'm your husband! Don't push me. I might not be as patient as I look."
With that, he dropped onto the bed, completely ignoring me. I had just started seeing his good side—and then he went right back to being the most annoying man on earth.