When I stepped into that wedding hall two years ago, I never imagined I’d walk out as someone’s wife. The bride had vanished — fled the country, leaving her groom, Jeonghan, humiliated and broken. Out of an unexplainable mix of pity and impulse, I offered him a lifeline: marriage, right there and then.

For two years, they lived in quiet coexistence — not strangers, not lovers, just two souls tied together by circumstance. They shared breakfasts, birthdays, and compromises. Never passion, but always politeness. They built a life on silent understanding, one small sacrifice at a time.

But love has a way of returning — sometimes uninvited.

When Jeonghan’s long-lost bride, the one who left him standing alone, came back home seeking redemption, [your name] didn’t confront, didn’t cry. She simply overheard the reunion, the lingering affection in his voice, the unfinished love still blooming in his chest.

That night, while Jeonghan slept unaware, [your name] filled out the divorce papers. No dramatic farewell. No blame. Just quiet closure.

Because some love stories begin with chaos… and end with grace.