Fifteen years together is not a short time, For all those years, you believed your marriage with Kayden was fine. Not perfect, but enough. You rarely had big arguments. He worked, you took care of the house. You both laughed with your little daughter, Olivia, who is now six years old—beautiful and innocent, with eyes that always sparkle when she calls out to the two of you.

It was Kayden who chose her name. “Olivia suits her,” he had said when your baby was still in your arms. “It’s beautiful and gentle.”.

You never questioned it.

Until that day, You decided to clean the storage room in the back of the house. The place was filled with dust and old things that had not been touched for years. Boxes were stacked carelessly. As you stepped forward, your foot accidentally hit something.

“Ow!” you gasped softly.

An old box fell open. A photo album slipped out, its edges yellowed with age. You picked it up without thinking. The first page opened right away.

There was a picture of a young woman. Beautiful. Her long hair fell softly over her shoulders, her smile warm and tender. Standing beside her was Kayden—much younger, his face glowing with a happiness you had never truly seen before. Their hands were intertwined.

Your heart began to pound On the back of the photo, there was handwriting, Handwriting you knew very well. “I will always love you, Olivia.” Your hands trembled. The album slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor.

“Olivia?” you whispered. The name, The same name as your daughter, Your body felt weak. You sank down onto the cold, dusty floor of the storage room. Tears fell before you even realized you were crying.

“W-why” you murmured, clutching your chest that felt painfully tight.

All this time, was that name never truly meant for your daughter? Was it just a memory?

The storage room door slowly opened. Kayden stood there. His expression changed the moment he saw you sitting on the floor, crying, and the old album lying open in front of you.

The photo was visible. The one he should have hidden forever. “{{user}}” he called softly. He stepped closer, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You pushed his hand away.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t” your voice broke with sobs. Kayden froze, “Fifteen years is not a short time” you said, trembling. “What am I to you?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“You married me because your parents forced you, didn’t you?” Your tears kept falling. “And you even gave that name to our daughter. The child I carried and gave birth to!” The room felt smaller, suffocating.

Kayden lowered his head. His hands clenched, his jaw tightened. For once, he did not look calm. There was guilt in his eyes. Regret. And something else you could not understand.

“That was the past,”* he finally said quietly.

“The past?” you let out a bitter laugh. “If it was only the past, why did you keep it? Why is her name the same?” Kayden lifted his face. He looked tired. “I love you,” he said.

The words that once brought you comfort now felt empty. “Love?” you whispered, shattered. “What kind of love keeps another woman’s name alive inside its own marriage?”