Side Story 8: When a Married Couple Dates

“Are we… going to watch a movie?”

As the car carrying the two of them entered the theater parking lot, Ji-soo turned to Tae-ha and asked.

He could only recall one time when she had mentioned wanting to watch a late-night movie. It was during a trip to the supermarket with Yeon-su, when they bumped into a neighboring couple with a child around the same age. The couple proudly announced they were going to the theater that night to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

“I’m so envious. I’ve always wanted to watch a late-night movie.”

Ji-soo had tried to strike up a conversation, hoping to bond with the neighbors, but Tae-ha soon appeared, wrapping his arm around her waist and cutting the conversation short. He wasn’t the kind of husband who generously allowed Ji-soo to get close to others—whether men, women, or even children.

To think she envied something as simple as going to the movies. For Ji-soo’s upcoming birthday, he briefly considered building her a private theater. But then again, Ji-soo had never asked for anything extravagant. All she ever wanted was time spent together with her husband and son.

She disliked going out so much that even things like work or school felt burdensome, and forming connections with neighbors didn’t come easily either.

So Tae-ha seriously planned to reduce his workload starting next year. If he simply cut back on work without explanation, Ji-soo would object, but if he framed it as wanting to focus on childbirth and childcare for their second child, his adorable wife would surely agree.

The idea of her watching a movie seemed almost laughable now. Yet here they were.

“The movie we watch tonight… might end up being more like a home video. Preferably something romantic.”

Tae-ha’s response was classic Cha Tae-ha, and Ji-soo couldn’t help but burst into laughter. As they bought popcorn, drinks, and chose their movie, Tae-ha insisted on an erotic romance labeled as having “19 minutes of groundbreaking sex scenes in film history,” while Ji-soo picked an action-packed blockbuster described as having “more gunfire than dialogue.”

In truth, Tae-ha didn’t care what movie they watched. Even if they sat in the theater, he’d likely spend most of the time touching Ji-soo and staring at her more often than at the screen.

But seeing her passionately argue for the action movie was so endearing that he stubbornly stuck to his choice.

“There are too many male actors in that movie. Can’t have that.”

With logic as absurd as finding a needle in space, Tae-ha spoke confidently, as though he’d just aced an exam. Ji-soo was momentarily speechless. Sometimes, the best response to irrationality is more irrationality.

“They say the male lead in this movie doesn’t wear a single thread. Completely naked, showing off his muscles!”

Even as Ji-soo teased him, Tae-ha maintained a relaxed smile. He knew himself well enough to remain unruffled.

“But you know I’m far superior to any actor, right?”

Confident in his victory, Tae-ha scanned Ji-soo from head to toe before purchasing two tickets for the action movie.

The film depicted a power struggle among mafia successors, with gunfire aplenty: eating and shooting, sleeping and shooting, talking and shooting.

While the protagonists skillfully dodged bullets, Ji-soo struggled to shake off her husband’s persistent touch.

“This movie is brutal. Hold my hand—it’s scary.”

At the first fight scene, Tae-ha abruptly grabbed Ji-soo’s hand. He should have seen this coming when she used trauma as an excuse in the past.

As he intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of her hand, he eventually moved to her cheek and neck.

“Tae-ha, let’s watch the movie. It’s fun.”

Ji-soo leaned in and whispered to him. Fortunately, the theater was nearly empty—just a couple in the front row, one person in the middle, and Tae-ha and Ji-soo seated discreetly in the back corner with ulterior motives.

“The movie’s fun, but Han Ji-soo is far more interesting.”

Tae-ha nibbled on her soft earlobe after licking the nape of her neck. Ji-soo winced slightly at the tingling sensation but forced herself to refocus on the screen. She couldn’t give up this hard-earned freedom. After all, it had been ages since she last went out like this.

Amused by his wife’s stern expression as she scolded him, Tae-ha chuckled. By the time he unbuttoned two buttons of her blouse, Ji-soo’s eyes widened in alarm.

“If you keep distracting me from the movie, I won’t hug you later.”

“That’s unfair.”

Using what the other person wants as leverage—Tae-ha’s greatest fear was unleashed when Ji-soo threatened him with her whip. Reluctantly, he buttoned up her blouse, which he had been eyeing greedily.

“Is your hand okay? Give it here.”

It felt like he was fussier than when feeding a rattle to their son, but Ji-soo obediently handed over her hand, as if feeding a beast that whined out of hunger.

For the two-hour movie filled with fighting, explosions, and flying objects, Tae-ha busied himself playing with her small hand—biting, sucking, and holding it tenderly.

When they left the theater, a light drizzle began to fall. Expecting to head straight home, Ji-soo was surprised when Tae-ha turned the car toward a chicken feet restaurant. The vehicle came to a stop in front of the eatery.

Pitter-patter, the raindrops fell heavily as they naturally leaned in for a kiss. The humid heat filled the car, and their breaths mingled with sticky friction.

As Tae-ha’s soft tongue explored her mouth, Ji-soo’s gaze flickered toward the window, glancing at the restaurant outside. Though the windows were completely opaque, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about being watched.

Even after becoming parents and spending countless days and nights together, Ji-soo still felt unnaturally flustered whenever she was with Tae-ha. Her heart raced not only when holding hands or kissing but even when their eyes met.

“We could just… go home now.”

As Tae-ha pulled away from her wet lips, Ji-soo murmured softly. Smiling mischievously, he reined in his swelling desire and replied.

“We need to eat something delicious first. Then I’ll devour you all night.”

When they entered the restaurant, the spicy aroma hit their noses. Ji-soo smiled brightly as she gazed at the bubbling red broth. Seeing her cute grin made Tae-ha fall even more in love with this quirky place and its unusual food.

Tae-ha tried to adapt to the fiery chicken feet broth using Ji-soo as a buffer. Every time he picked up his chopsticks, her expectant gaze, eager to see how well he ate, was adorable.

“I want to drink, too. Just one glass, okay?”

“Do you really think the Alcohol Goddess will be satisfied with just one?”

Tae-ha ordered soju and beer. Then, with the expertise of a lifelong bomb cocktail artisan, he quickly mixed the two and handed the drink to Ji-soo. A golden whirlpool swirled inside the transparent glass.

“Oh, a tornado shot! Where did you learn to make this?”

No one would dare ask Tae-ha to mix a bomb cocktail, so he must have taught himself. Ji-soo marveled at the frothy drink before taking a sip.

“Does it taste good?”

“Everything I give you tastes good.”

True enough, anything that passed through Tae-ha’s hands was delicious. Convinced, Ji-soo nodded and gulped down the bomb cocktail.

“Wow! The aftertaste is clean. The swallow… very smooth.”

Ji-soo motioned for Tae-ha to lean closer. Obligingly, he bent his head, and she whispered something she’d never say while sober.

“It reminds me of our first kiss in the car. Thrilling and sweet.”

As Tae-ha gazed at Ji-soo’s softly smiling eyes, he gently cupped her chin. When their lips met again, Ji-soo broke into a wide smile. The two interpreted this signal differently.

Did Ji-soo think they’d actually kiss in a packed chicken feet restaurant? Or was Tae-ha interpreting it as permission?

By the time Tae-ha realized she had misunderstood his gaze, his lips had already claimed hers. Her reddened lips melted into his, and everything—the noisy chatter, the spicy aroma—vanished into a vacuum, leaving only Tae-ha.

When their saliva-soaked lips finally parted, Ji-soo felt the weight of curious gazes and whispers around them. She bit her swollen lips, then looked at Tae-ha and laughed.

Living with a man who always drew attention wherever he went had taught her to brush off moments like this with a smile. Between her legs, warmth pooled, an overwhelming heat building and spilling over.

“Make me another drink.”

“Yes, my lord.”

If she was this heated, then Tae-ha… Despite knowing exactly what was happening under the table, he calmly mixed another round of soju and beer, feigning nonchalance. Was he truly that composed below the belt?

It was quite the risky provocation. Knowing how explosive Tae-ha could be with just a light touch, Ji-soo couldn’t resist teasing him further.

“The service today isn’t great, huh?”

With a sultry smile, Ji-soo slid her foot out of her shoe and began exploring Tae-ha’s thigh from across the table. Her toes wiggled mischievously, inching toward the center.

When her foot accidentally brushed against something firm, she startled herself and quickly withdrew, only to have Tae-ha grab her ankle.

When had this happened?

Their bewildered gazes met above the bubbling broth of chicken feet. As Tae-ha tightened his grip on her ankle, Ji-soo quickly shook her head. Surely not here? Not after drawing so much attention with their earlier passionate kiss.

“Tae-ha, I was wrong.”

“What did you do wrong?”

A playful smirk spread across his handsome face. Looking at him as if to say, “Did you really think I wouldn’t do this?” Ji-soo pleaded sincerely.

“Please… dear.”

“I want to praise you for being so good, but instead, I feel like biting you from head to toe.”

Tae-ha pressed firmly against her ankle, savoring the moment. When he finally released her, Ji-soo’s face was flushed redder than the spicy broth.

“When’s our next date?”

As they exited the restaurant, Tae-ha opened an umbrella and asked. Ji-soo, pouting playfully, rested her blushing cheek against his strong shoulder and smiled.

Her husband, newly fascinated by the art of dating, resolved to flaunt his impure preferences without restraint, regardless of time or place.