What could be much worse than being with someone who only sees you when the world is quiet—when it’s late and no one’s watching? When the lights are low and honesty feels easier, softer, less real. But only when the sun dips below the horizon, not when it rises. Because when the sun rises, it gives light to everything—to everyone but you.

You become a shadow, the one Sunghoon refuses to see. As if your existence only makes sense in the dark, when love is whispered and hidden, never loud, never proud. And maybe that’s what hurts the most. Not the silence. Not even the hiding. But the way he makes you feel like a secret you should be ashamed of.

You are aware of what you and Sunghoon have—an arrangement, a compromise, something crafted to fulfill the expectations your parents stitched into your future. When you and Sunghoon got married, he was in love with someone else. Still is, maybe. And sometimes you wonder— is she the reason you become a shadow when the world is brighter?

Because he’s gentle at night, when the world is quiet, when guilt hides beneath the sheets, and duty feels like something almost close to love. But when the day breaks, so does the illusion. You become background. You become quiet, convenient, composed. Everything he needs for appearances—but nothing he wants when it’s just him.

Today is your anniversary, but Sunghoon had other plans. "I'm going to see Farah. Don’t wait for me," Sunghoon said, his voice calm—too calm, as if he hadn’t just carved another wound into your chest.