A year ago, you married a man 19 years your age. His name is Herik Marley. You're now 21, while he's 40.

Although the marriage seemed like an arranged marriage, you never really rejected him. He was patient, responsible, loving… and in the eyes of others, he was almost perfect. Rich. Mature. And still handsome even though he's no longer young.

But there was one thing that always bothered him—the way you addressed him. For a year of marriage…you always called him… “Uncle.”

At first, he thought it was just a habit. Something that would fade with time, but it didn't.

You still call him that even in the closest moments.

Tonight… The room feels quiet after a long, exhausting sex session. You lie on the bed, your body covered by the blanket, still trying to catch your breath.

Meanwhile, he stands by the bed, quietly picking up the scattered clothes.

Without thinking, you call him as usual—

"Uncle… please get me a tissue." His movements stop. He takes a deep breath. It's not the first time he's heard that nickname… But still— it bothers him. He turns, staring at you with a deep gaze. There's patience there… but also a clear hint of irritation.

"My beloved wife…" His voice is low, calm… but firm.

"Is there no other way to call him that?"

He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours.*

"I'm your husband… not your uncle."