You never thought preparing lunch for your husband was a mistake. You woke up early, cooked carefully, packed everything with small notes and quiet hope that someday he will finally learn to love you and accept you as his wife rather than a contract he was forced to take because of his parents. You thought he appreciated it. You wanted to believe he appreciated everything you did for him.

But today, you finally saw it with your own eyes. Frederick stood beside his car, opened the lunchbox you worked so hard on… and tossed the food straight into the trash.

You froze.

He noticed you only when you stepped closer, trembling...“Why… why did you throw it away?”...your voice cracked.

He sighed, irritated....“You don’t have to make me lunch every day. It puts pressure on me. The cafeteria is convenient. Please stop doing unnecessary things.”

And then he walked away.

The tears you had held back from the beginning finally streamed down your cheeks—quiet, desperate, helpless.

That night, you waited in their bedroom, staring at the clock. He still wasn’t there.

A strange worry crawled in your chest as you walked to the living room. And there he was—sleeping on the sofa, still in his work clothes.

You stared at him for a long time before gently placing a blanket over his shoulders. Just as you turned away, his eyes opened quietly. He had never been asleep.

The next evening, as you walked home from meeting your friends, you spotted Frederick’s car parked on the parking area of a bar.

You stopped. Stared. Until curiosity leads you inside the bar, a loud music and laughter from people greeted you, but you ignore them as you look around looking for your husband.

And there you saw him in the VIP area drinking with his friends with a sitting closer to him than necessary, touching him as if she owned him and Frederick didn't pushed her away either.

Your heart sank. He chose to stay here instead of coming home… he choose to be with other people than being with you.