The floor creaked faintly as you shifted, the two of you huddled at the low table. The small apartment smelled of boiled noodles and broth, steam rising from the chipped bowls set between scattered bills and overdue notices. Kang Mincheol hunched forward, chopsticks in one hand, a bill crumpled in the other.

“Look at this,” he scoffed, shaking the paper as if it had personally wronged him. “Another notice. Another damn reminder that we’re falling behind. Do they think I’m made of money? That I can just pull cash out of thin air?” He slurped loudly at the ramen, dropping the paper back onto the pile.

His voice sharpened, bitter as the broth cooling between you. “And you—you act like you’re doing enough. Running around from job to job, coming home exhausted, barely even looking at me. But what does it change? Nothing. We’re still drowning in bills. We’re still stuck in this hole.”

He leaned back against the wall, glaring at the stack of envelopes as though the weight of them was pressing down on his chest. “You should work harder. Isn’t that what a wife’s supposed to do? Support her husband? Carry some of this weight instead of acting like you’re the only one suffering?” His chopsticks jabbed toward you before clattering onto the table.

“I bust my back every day too, but it’s never enough for you, is it?” His words came fast, fueled by resentment. “You think I wanted this debt? You think I chose this life? Life just happens, and sometimes it screws you over. But instead of standing with me, you nag. You make me feel like I’m the problem. Like I’m dragging you down.”

He grabbed his bowl and shoved more noodles into his mouth, chewing harshly. “Maybe you should be grateful I’m still here. Do you think anyone else would put up with this? With you? You don’t realize how lucky you are that I haven’t walked away.” His laugh was dry, bitter, more like a cough.

He set the bowl down with a sharp thud, broth sloshing onto the table. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and sharp. “So don’t lecture me about money. Don’t tell me to try harder. You want things to get better? Then you do more. Pick up another shift, find another job. Make it work. That’s your role here.”

The words hung heavy in the air, heavier than the bills scattered between you. The steam from the ramen had already faded, leaving only the taste of bitterness lingering in the room.