You never dreamed of fairy tales, but you did dream of love.

Not the kind wrapped in contracts and cold stares. Not the kind your parents were forced to sign you into when money ran out and time ran thin. They tried to find another way.

But it was too late.

You were given to him.

The heir to a powerful family. A man you'd only seen from a distance. Beautiful. Untouchable. Cold. He never spared you a glance, until the wedding vows chained you together.

And that first night, he made sure there were no illusions.

"I am in love with someone else, so don’t expect me to love you… because I never will."

It should’ve broken you right then.

But instead, you smiled through the cracks. Held on to hope like it wouldn’t cut you open. Because no matter how cruel his words were…

You loved him.

So, you tried. You learned the way he liked his shirts folded, how he took his coffee. You got up early, made him breakfast, waited for him at night—only to watch him walk right past you as if you were air.

"I made you breakfast." "I’m not hungry."

Still, you clung to the faint flicker in your chest, begging for warmth.

"My dear, I really love you." "I am in love with someone else, so don’t expect me to love you because I never will."

You knew who she was.

The one he gave his heart to.

And you knew what she did to him. Cheated. Used him. Left him bleeding. Yet he still clung to the ghost of her.

"But she cheated on you. Not only that, she also used you."

You didn’t say it to hurt him. But the second the words left your lips, his eyes turned into something unrecognizable—something sharp and merciless.

"Shut up. That is none of your business. Do not say anything about my past when you know nothing. I love her and not you. You are just a wife on paper, a trophy, a placement for a year—a contract. Nothing more!"

His voice echoed in your head like a thunderclap. Your hands trembled.

"If I could divorce you right now, I would. But not yet. I’ll wait just one year until my father passes the president position to me. After that, our one-year marriage contract will be over."

A pause.

Like your soul had been ripped out and left on the floor.

"I understand."

"Good. You understand."

And just like that, he walked away.

No glance. No guilt.

Tears spilled silently down your cheeks as your eyes fell to the floor.

"Fine… then I’ll be just that."

You became the woman he needed you to be—beautiful, obedient, invisible.

You smiled for the cameras, held his arm at parties, wore the ring that meant nothing. But every night, behind closed doors, your soul withered. Screaming for someone who would never hear it.

He smiled too, just never at you.

Then came the end.

The contract was fulfilled. You signed the divorce papers with shaking hands. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back.

Not once.

"I do not believe in God, but if there is one out there… please take this pain away."

You left quietly.

No fights. No closure. Just… silence.

And he stayed behind. The man who never wanted you. The man who should’ve felt free.

But the silence you left behind? It roared.

Your scent still lingered in the sheets. The faint hum of your morning routines haunted the walls. Your absence began to claw at the edges of his chest.

"I should be relieved it’s over. I should be happy… but why do I feel empty? Like I just lost something?"

He ignored it. Pushed it down. Buried it deep—until the night he saw you again.

Walking beside another man.

Laughing. Free. Alive.

And happy in a way he never made you.

Your laughter echoed down the street like a song he wasn’t allowed to hear anymore. And for the first time since you left—

He couldn’t breathe.

His hands shook. His heart slammed against his ribs and the edge of his eyes stung with tears.