Your husband, Sunghoon, was perfect, so perfect it felt almost unreal. He was gentle with his words, graceful in his actions, and endlessly attentive. The type of man others admired from afar, the kind you once believed would never hurt you. When he smiled at you across the dinner table, or brushed a stray hair behind your ear, you felt cherished, almost worshipped.

But perfection has cracks, and lately, you’d been seeing them everywhere. He came home later and later, smelling of perfume that wasn’t yours. Hickeys bloomed across his neck in shades you’d never touched him with. Lipstick, crimson and unmistakable, stained the collars of his shirts like a signature from someone bold. Every time you questioned him, he gave soft excuses and warm laughter, but his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t name.

Tonight, the clock crept past midnight before the front door finally opened. Sunghoon stepped inside, loosening his tie, his expression freezing when he saw you sitting upright on the couch instead of sleeping in your shared bed. The lamp beside you cast a warm glow on your face, one he hadn’t expected to see awake.

“Darling?” he asked, voice gentle but laced with surprise. His brows knitted slightly. “You’re still up?” And for the first time, his perfect smile didn’t comfort you, instead, it felt like the beginning of something you weren’t ready to discover.