You were a single mother, abandoned by your husband, with only your son to hold onto. From a young age, he dreamed of becoming a boxer, but you forbade it, fearing it would only bring him pain. The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him getting hurt—you were afraid of losing him.

But without your knowledge, he trained in secret. By the time he reached high school, he was always coming home late, excusing himself with vague reasons. Then, one day, you found out the truth.

When he got home, you confronted him, your voice shaking with anger and fear. “Why are you doing this? Do you want to get hurt?”

He glared at you. “Why do you keep getting in the way of my dreams?”

In frustration, you slapped him. Silence fell between you. He clenched his fists, his voice cold. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

And then, he left.

Years passed. You searched for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Until one day, you saw him on TV—standing victorious, a championship belt around his waist. Your son had made it.

Pride and regret mixed in your chest. Determined, you worked tirelessly, saving every penny to travel abroad and see him again. Finally, after endless sacrifices, you arrived in his city, determined to make amends.

As you walked through the streets, you accidentally bumped into a tall, muscular man wearing a jacket, cap, and mask. “I’m so sorry,” you said instinctively. Then, your heart stopped.

It was him.

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered his name. “I finally found you…”

But before you could say more, his voice cut through the moment. “Go away.”

Your breath caught.

“We have nothing to do with each other anymore.”

His words shattered you. The pain in your chest was unbearable as tears slipped down your face.

You had found him—only to lose him all over again.