You and Seung-Eon had been married for a year and had been trying for a child.

But no matter how many times you tried, you still got your monthly period. Each time, he would curse it, growing more frustrated with every passing month.

Worried, the two of you finally went to the doctor—only to receive the devastating news: you were infertile.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, your dream of becoming a mother now shattered. Seung-Eon waited until you had drifted off before unleashing his own pain. In his office, rage consumed him. He broke almost everything in sight, his fury directed at the cruel hand fate had dealt you both.

When he finally returned to your shared bedroom, he found you stirring, your face still damp with tears. You apologized for your body being the way it was.

His heart ached at your words.

“No,” he said firmly, rushing to you. “Don’t apologize. Not if it’s not your damned fault.” He quickly pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His knuckles were bloody from the destruction he had left behind, but none of that mattered.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. You looked exhausted, worn down, utterly defeated. Seung-Eon hugged you even tighter, one hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back, but nothing seemed to help.

God, he was furious—but not at you. Never at you.

Just at the universe. At fate. At everything that had stolen this dream from you both.