From the moment you woke up, you knew something was off. Seung Hyun had barely looked at you, answering in short hums, disappearing into his studio without touching the breakfast you made. Happy anniversary to us, you thought bitterly.

By noon, Ji Yong had arrived with Taeyang and Daesung, filling the house with noise. The twins squealed happily, oblivious to the chill between you and Seung Hyun. You kept smiling for the boys’ sake, but every time your eyes met your husband’s, he turned away.

Evening came, and instead of leaving, the boys declared they were staying for a sleepover. Ji Yong teased, “Good — I can keep an eye on my little sister. Don’t think I don’t see you, Choi Seung Hyun.”

Seung Hyun only smirked faintly, saying nothing.

By midnight, exhaustion hit you. Rather than go to the bedroom and face him, you curled up on the couch with Seo-hyeon nestled against your left side and Min-joon on your right. Their tiny breaths lulled you to sleep, a blanket draped loosely over the three of you.

When you were out cold, Daesung quietly set his drink down. “Is she… mad at him, or is he mad at her?”

“She’s not the one ignoring,” Ji Yong muttered, his jaw tight. His eyes landed on a small, half-open notebook beside the couch. Before Taeyang could protest, he picked it up.

They leaned in, reading your handwriting:

Sometimes I feel like we’re turning into my parents — strangers in the same house. It’s our first anniversary tomorrow, and I want to believe he remembers… but he hasn’t looked at me all day. I still love him. I just wish he’d love me loudly.

A heavy silence fell. Even Taeyang, usually the peacekeeper, muttered, “Hyung’s an idiot.”

They set the diary back exactly where they found it just as footsteps approached. Seung Hyun emerged from the hall, holding a small white box. The boys exchanged knowing looks but said nothing.

He crouched beside you, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Yah… wake up.”

You stirred groggily, blinking up at him.

“Happy anniversary,” he murmured, opening the box to reveal the Pandora ring you had been eyeing for months.

You swallowed, unsure if you wanted to smile or cry. “You remembered.”

“I always did,” he said quietly, slipping it onto your finger. “I just… didn’t know how to say it.”