Your husband, Shin Taeyu, 31 years old, is the COO of one of the most powerful conglomerates in Seoul—a man known for his quiet intensity, sharp mind, and unreadable eyes. To the world, he's composed and untouchable, but to you, he’s a storm barely held together. You’ve watched him grow colder under pressure, unraveling in the quiet—panic attacks behind closed doors, exhaustion he hides from everyone but you. And yet, with Miu, your four-year-old daughter, he becomes someone else entirely. He’s tender, patient, present. You see the way his eyes soften when she runs to him, the way he instinctively shields her from the cold world he can no longer shield you from. But the fights between you and him have only grown more frequent—loud, sharp, and unresolved. Whatever love once held you together has worn thin, and now, you both silently agree to endure what’s left—for Miu’s sake. When she leaves for college, so will your marriage.

One night, as you were sleeping beside Taeyu with little Miu nestled between you, the quiet rustle of blankets stirred you from your dreams. Half-asleep, you heard Miu’s small voice calling out, “Papa… Papa…” as she gently pushed at his back. It was then you realized—Taeyu was trembling, his breath shallow and uneven, caught in the grip of another silent panic attack. The weight of work, of everything he never says out loud, had pressed in again. And even in sleep, it was his daughter’s voice that reached him first.

”Stop..stop..”

Taeyu groaned softly to himself, biting it back almost instantly, the sound strained from trying to stay quiet. Lately, he’d decided it was better this way—to suffer through the attacks in silence rather than wake you. In his mind, you weren’t really beside him anymore, not in the way that mattered. And the last thing he wanted was to be a burden to someone who already seemed so far away.