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Many things had been on her bingo card that day, but definitely not this. Iseul sat in front of the cop, her hair a mess from the chaos of the past hour. She tried to gather herself, putting on the most innocent expression she could muster,

"Ma'am, could you explain what happened?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"I was just defending my honor!" Iseul protested, her voice a mix of indignation and embarrassment. "He was talking about me like that!"

The officer raised an eyebrow, clearly struggling to keep his composure. "And hitting him with a heap of metal seemed like the appropriate response?"

"Look, he was being rude! I just... lost it!" she stammered, feeling the weight of the situation sink in. "Can you blame me?"

"But, sir, I've never seen this woman before! Why would I call her a bad word?" the man protested, clutching his bruised head, the stitches glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

"You called me a bitch!" Iseul shot back, her voice a sharp dagger cutting through the air .

The guy's eyes widened slightly, then a smirk tugged at his lips even as he winced, a hand pressing against the sore spot on his head. "Relax, lady," he said, a trace of sarcasm still lacing his words. "I was talking about Park Sunghoon's ex-wife, not you."

Iseul lifted her chin, eyes blazing as she declared, "Yeah, that's me!"

The entire police station burst into laughter, their laughs echoing through the cold walls. Even the officers, used to dealing with all sorts of chaos, couldn't help but chuckl.

Rolling her eyes, Iseul's frustration simmered just beneath the surface.

"So, you're saying a man like that would actually marry you?" asked the bruised man, his voice dripping with incredulity. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

Chaeryoung, who had been watching with barely contained amusement, covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Leaning in, she whispered, "Oh, girl, he doesn't even know half of what went down during our childhood."

The man, bruised and visibly weary, exhaled heavily, shaking his head as though trying to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. "Both of you are delusional," he muttered.

Iseul shot him a glare, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Delusional? Please. I practically raised Sunghoon from the ashes of his awkward phase."

The man snorted, a laugh escaping him despite the bruise darkening on his temple. "At this rate, I might as well get your autographs. It's not every day you meet the 'ex-wife' and her hype squad."

Chaeryoung, unable to hold back said  "Oh, she's not lying. I'd sign an affidavit if you need one."

The officer, who had been watching the scene with raised eyebrows, finally cleared his throat. He tilted his cap back slightly and looked at them with impatience. "Alright, if that's the case, bring Mr. Park in. We'll settle this once and for all."

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. Iseul and Chaeryoung exchanged a glance, the humor slipping from their faces as reality sank in. Iseul's gaze dropped to the floor, and a soft, resigned sigh passed her lips.

"We can't," she admitted, voice barely a whisper.

"Ha! Exactly!" The man sneered, folding his arms over his chest. "You're just making this up, a pair of loonies wasting everyone's time."

The laughter in Chaeryoung's eyes died as she leaned closer to Iseul, whispering urgently. "Girl, just tell them what's going on. We're already here."

"I'd rather rot in this cell than call him."

"Fine, you stay here and stew in your stubbornness. I have something to do." She stood up, her determination evident.

"Where are you going?" Iseul asked, her curiosity piqued despite her irritation.

"Let's just say I'm about to make a very important phone call,"

"You wouldn't dare—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Chaeryoung had already sashayed out of the police station, leaving Iseul to stew in her thoughts. "Great. Just great," Iseul muttered, slumping back in her chair. "What's the worst that could happen?"

As Iseul sat in the police station's waiting room, the laughter from the officers and other detainees echoed around her, amplifying her humiliation. She had gone from smashing a guy's head with a payment machine to being stuck in this awkward limbo, and honestly, this was not how she envisioned her day would go.

To distract herself from the absurdity of her situation, she turned to the two guys sitting nearby, both looking equally bored. She figured she might as well make some conversation. "So, brother, what did you do?"

The first guy, a brooding figure with an intense scowl, glanced at her. "I killed my mom."

Iseul's eyes widened, and she instinctively inched away from him, feeling her stomach churn. "Wow, um..."

Turning to the guy on her other side, she tried her luck again. "And you? What's your story?"

The second dude leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, looking as if he was too cool for this place. "Mafia."

Iseul stood up abruptly, her emotions boiling over as she marched to the other seats, finally stopping in front of the guy she had hit. She shot him a nasty look, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

As she rested her head on her palm, her mind raced with thoughts of how to navigate this mess. She was stuck in a police station, dealing with the fallout of her ridiculous outburst, and now she was face-to-face with the very person she despised the most. Just as she was contemplating her next move, fate decided to play a cruel trick on her.

Footsteps echoed through the waiting room, and her heart raced as she looked up. There he was: Park Sunghoon, the man from the newspaper, the man from her past. He strode in with an air of confidence, and Iseul couldn't help but notice how striking he looked. His hair was a tousled mess, dark strands falling effortlessly over his forehead, giving him an effortlessly handsome appearance that made her stomach churn with a mix of admiration and irritation.

His sharp jawline was accentuated by slight stubble, and his piercing eyes seemed to lock onto hers, drawing her in against her will. But what caught her attention the most were the two adorable moles that both annoyed and fascinated her.

"Just great," she muttered to herself, glancing away in an attempt to regain her composure. "Why does he have to look like that?"

They locked eyes, and the air between them thickened. This prolonged eye contact was different from what they once shared; it was devoid of any warmth or affection. Instead, it was charged with a palpable hatred and an unspoken tension, something deeper and more complicated that neither of them could quite pinpoint.

Iseul's heart raced as she searched his gaze for any sign of the boy she once knew, but all she saw was a man who had transformed into the epitome of success—and her sworn enemy. Sunghoon's expression was equally guarded, a mixture of surprise and irritation flickering across his features as he recognized her.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and everything else faded into the background. The police station, the other waiting patrons, even the echo of footsteps—it all blurred as they stood there, suspended in a shared history that was both painful and unresolved.

The hatred was real, fueled by memories of betrayal and the divorce that had severed their once-close bond, but beneath that simmered something else, an undeniable connection that neither wanted to acknowledge.

Finally, Iseul broke the stare, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. "Great. Just what I need," she muttered under her breath, her irritation bubbling to the surface once again.

She turned away, determined to put as much distance between them as possible, but the feeling of his gaze lingered.

As he approached the reception desk, Iseul mentally kicked herself. This was the last person she wanted to see today—especially not here.

Finally, after everything had been cleared up, the guy decided not to sue her, and they both walked out of the police station. Iseul sighed with relief, grateful to be free but still fuming over the absurdity of the whole situation.

As they stepped outside, Iseul's eyes locked onto the guy from the waiting room, now standing beside none other than Park Sunghoon. The man's laughter echoed as he clapped Sunghoon on the back. "Good luck, man! I didn't know how you handled her all those years. She's terrifying!"

Both men turned, their gazes meeting Iseul's fiery glare. Her expression was fierce, eyes blazing with a defiance that could cut through steel. The air seemed to crackle between them, charged with unspoken history.

Sunghoon's confidence wavered; he swallowed hard, an involuntary step back betraying his usual composure. He had weathered the storms of corporate wars, charmed his way through boardrooms, and faced the relentless scrutiny of the press. But nothing, not even his most formidable opponents, could prepare him for the wrath of his ex-wife.

He walked away, heading towards his sleek black sedan that gleamed under the sun, every polished inch of it reflecting his pristine image. The casual power in his stride was undeniable, and it only made Iseul's frustration simmer more.

Chaeryoung, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with concern, suddenly realized the moment couldn't pass unclaimed. Letting Iseul's stubborn pride win wasn't an option. This was a rare opportunity—and she wasn't about to let it slip through their fingers.

"Go thank him! He showed up for you despite his busy schedule,"

"Thank him? For what? Almost getting me arrested?" Her voice was sharp with sarcasm.

Chaeryoung rolled her eyes, exasperation lacing her features. "He didn't have to show up at all, but he did. That has to count for something, right?"

"He's the last person I want to talk to," Iseul muttered, her eyes darting to Sunghoon as he reached for the car handle. The flash of hesitation on his face was almost imperceptible, but she caught it. The air between them felt thick, like a storm brewing.

"Ignoring him is not going to help," Chaeryoung pushed on, her tone softening. "You know I'm right."

Iseul's silence spoke louder than any retort she could muster. Just as she turned her head, trying to will herself to walk in the opposite direction, the dark-head made her move. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she placed her hands firmly on Iseul's shoulders and gave a gentle, yet deliberate, push.

Iseul stumbled forward, catching her balance just a breath away from Sunghoon.

She fumbled for words, her mind racing as she tried to articulate her thoughts while his cold gaze pierced through her. His expression was detached, his lips pressed into a thin line that exuded an air of indifference, almost like he was encased in ice.

"I, um—" she started, but the words got tangled in her throat. His icy stare felt like it could freeze the very breath she was trying to take.

"Thank you for coming," she finally managed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm afraid I've tired you."

"Yeah, okay, but next time, don't bother me." His voice was low and clipped, carrying an edge that suggested he was done with this conversation.

There was something so frigid about him now, as if he had wrapped himself in layers of frost that only seemed to deepen the distance between them. His eyes, once warm with familiarity, now glinted like shards of ice, impenetrable and unyielding.

Iseul felt her heart pound in her chest, a mix of frustration and longing bubbling to the surface. How had they gone from childhood friends to lovers to this? The man before her seemed a world away, and the connection they once had felt like a distant memory, frozen in time.

Iseul's cheeks flushed with indignation, and she stepped closer, her voice rising with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Eh, eh! Come back here! I don't like that tone. Why are you talking to me like that? And 'bother you'? Tch! If you hadn't spread false rumors about me, we wouldn't even be here in the first place! In fact, I could actually sue you for slander!"

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. "What rumors?"

"Oh, sweetheart, something along the lines of me getting compensation after our divorce. You know, that I stole half your stocks in the company? Shame on you! Really, are you a grandma, spreading such nonsense?"

His expression shifted slightly, the cold facade cracking just enough to reveal a hint of surprise. "That's ridiculous. I didn't spread any rumors."

"Right! Because what else would you expect from the 'young millionaire'?" she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course, you wouldn't think twice about tarnishing my reputation. It's just another Tuesday for you, huh?"

"What rumors? Why would I waste my breath talking about you? I don't even remember your face, nor did I ever want to."

Iseul rolled her eyes dramatically, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh please, as if I'm desperate for you to notice me! What was your name again? Let me check my list of people I don't care about."

His expression hardened. "Good. Then I'd better not see you in front of me again."

"Good."

"Good."

"Good." The back-and-forth echoed in the air, and Iseul always made sure she got the last word, relishing the satisfaction it brought.

But as they stood there, the tension shifted. Their faces were inches apart, the space between them crackling with a mix of unresolved feelings and unspoken words. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them in a bubble where the past lingered like a specter.

Sunghoon let out a frustrated sigh, turning on his heel and striding toward his sleek, black sports car parked nearby. The engine roared to life as he slid into the driver's seat, the vehicle gleaming under the morning sun.

As he adjusted the rearview mirror, he couldn't help but glance back at Iseul through the tinted windows. Her fiery gaze lingered on him, a mixture of resentment and something else he couldn't quite place.

With one last look, he shifted into gear and pulled away, leaving her standing there. Iseul watched as his car disappeared down the street, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

As the dust settled where his car had been, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the feelings swirling within her. "What a jerk," she muttered under her breath, but even as she said it, she couldn't deny the lingering tension of their confrontation.

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it gets better i swear