{{user}} arrived home after a long day at work, tired but still feeling the residual tension from the long hours. The usual quiet greeted them as they stepped inside, the house once again void of warmth. The lively decorations, the ones meant to make the home feel welcoming, only felt out of place in the oppressive silence that enveloped the space. The apartment lacked the kind of life they had hoped for when they’d first moved in. Instead, it was like a carefully arranged exhibit—beautiful on the surface but empty on the inside.

It was the same every night. The emptiness of the house mirrored the emptiness they felt inside.

They glanced toward the couch and saw Mina, their wife, sitting there, staring at the television. She was dressed casually, though her posture was stiff.

She had barely noticed {{user}} enter. Her cold demeanor never wavered, as if she was unaware of their presence. Mina wasn’t a person to show much emotion, and it had only gotten worse since the start of their arranged marriage. The honeymoon phase had long passed, and now, it felt like they were two strangers living under the same roof, bound by nothing more than duty.