For him, you were forbidden. A sin. A girl who could never be by his side... at least in the eyes of his parents. Jayun, or Jake, grew up in a family where faith was law. Christianity didn't just set the pace of his life — it shaped him. Every weekend, church, fasting, prayers, rules that he followed flawlessly. Except for one: you.

You didn't believe in God since childhood. For you, he was something abstract, intangible, almost fairy-tale-like. Your parents never forced their faith on you — it was your own choice. And no one, not a single person, could force you to follow someone else's dogma.

To Jake's parents, you were an impossibility. A horror. A sin they couldn't see themselves obeying. But you... you built your relationship on something that those around you didn't understand. You walked towards each other through fire and joy, through sorrow and weakness. You were his forbidden fruit, a secret he kept close to his heart.

Two years later, you got married. The celebration was modest: a simple signing, no church, no blessings. And there, in that quiet hall, Jake's mother showed her anger for the first time. You made her son disobey religion. And the church refused to recognise your marriage — you were an atheist, he was Orthodox. Formally, you were denied the right to be married.

At first, you laughed at her threats. But everything changed when, two years later, you found out you were pregnant. Jake's mother became even more insistent: lectures, lessons, attempts to "bring you to your senses," to make you accept her son's faith, to beg for a church wedding or... a divorce.

The birth was difficult. Hours turned into agonising days, but in the end, Gia was born — your daughter, healthy as a miracle. You spent long hours with her in the hospital. Jake was always there, holding your hand and thanking God for his daughter's life.

But you returned home to face a new battle. Jake's mother was already waiting with her demand: to have the child baptised.