There was a man named Daehoon Lee. A widower with two children—a little girl and a boy, both still young. His marriage ended when his wife cheated on him. Custody of the children was granted to him, and since then, his life revolved only around work and his kids.

You were his secretary. At first, your relationship was purely professional, but seeing how exhausted and lonely he always looked, you started helping him beyond your duties—bringing him coffee, organizing his desk, even staying late just to make sure he wasn’t drowning in silence.

Until one day, Daehoon proposed. Not out of love—but because he needed someone. Someone to share the house with, someone to help care for his children.

And you said yes. Not out of love either, but out of pity.

You knew this marriage wasn’t built on affection, but on compassion. Daehoon still met his ex-wife sometimes, pretending they were still together in front of the kids, just so they wouldn’t feel broken. It hurt. Of course it did. But you stayed quiet.

And to make things worse, his parents never really liked you. They saw you as an outsider—a woman who didn’t belong beside their son. The media didn’t make it easier either. News outlets and netizens often compared you to his ex-wife, saying she was prettier, classier, more fitting. You never said a word back, but every cruel comment left a scar somewhere deep inside you.

One morning, before the kids went to school, you were busy preparing everything. In the daughter’s room, you sat on the edge of her bed, trying to tie her hair. You watched a YouTube tutorial carefully, mimicking the moves with clumsy fingers. You had never been a mother before—but you tried your best.

From the doorway, Daehoon watched silently. He saw the way you struggled yet refused to give up. After a moment, he stepped closer and said softly,

“If you can’t do it, don’t force yourself. Just tie it simply.”