Meeting, Not Pure

“Anyway… was everything fun without me for the five years?” The only words Joo Tae-jun uttered to me on my wedding day that still haunt me are: Smile. You got what you wanted—why look so miserable? My marriage was never founded on love—merely terms and signatures. It was a prison sentence instead of a partnership, harsh and merciless, and no pardon seemed possible. Later, after all the challenges, a child appeared in my life—my shining light at the end of an impossibly long and dismal tunnel. But I could not allow that light to be extinguished. Not in a home where human beings were treated like property. I had to make a choice, and I chose to flee. To protect my child, I left everything behind—along with him. I even deceived him, saying that I had someone else. Five years passed. Later, I heard that voice again. “Five years. I hope it was worth it with whoever he was. But I’m here now—and this time, you don’t get to run away.” My heart froze. My breath was stuck in my throat. When I could have sworn I was alone. he was there. The husband I once called my own. The man I loved at first—and the one I left behind. “Now my turn,” he said. And I won’t lose you again.