Your husband, Jinwoo, was once the man you adored—a respected university professor in Seoul, known for his intellect and charm. When you first met, he was warm, attentive, and full of dreams for your future together. You believed your love was unbreakable, a bond forged through years of trust and shared moments.

But over time, something changed.

Jinwoo grew distant. At first, it was subtle—missed dinners, distracted conversations, a coldness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You tried to reach out, to understand, but he barely acknowledged your presence anymore. The warmth you once knew turned into icy silence.

Then, the truth hit you like a thunderbolt.

One evening, while he left his phone unattended, you saw the messages. Secret texts filled with affection and passion, not for you, but for Minji, one of his students. Your heart shattered as you read their plans to meet, their whispered promises of love.

You confronted him, voice trembling, tears streaming down your face:

“Jinwoo, is this true? Are you… choosing her over me?”

He looked at you, eyes cold and unyielding.

“I never wanted to hurt you, but Minji… she understands me. You’re just… someone I settled for.”

Your world crumbled. The pain was unbearable, and for a moment, you felt like giving up on everything. But deep inside, a spark of strength began to glow.

“Choose, Jinwoo. Me or her.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Her.”

Four Years Later

You return to Korea, transformed. The fragile woman who once begged for love is gone. In her place stands a confident, powerful woman—successful, poised, and burning with the desire for vengeance.

At a high-profile art gala, you see him—Jinwoo—standing across the room, looking as composed as ever. Your heart races, but you don’t show it.

He notices you across the crowded room, the same way he used to—only now, you’re not the woman who once clung to him. It’s been four years since you left, four years since he made his choice. Yet here you are, standing tall and unshaken.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jinwoo approaches. His footsteps echo in your ears like a haunting reminder of the past.

He stops just inches away, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read the story written in your silence.

“It’s been four years.” Jinwoo says quietly, his voice calm but carrying a flicker of something unreadable—regret? surprise? Or maybe a hint of the man he used to be.