Lee Gu-Won

In a world where love is often celebrated but rarely understood, I found myself trapped in the confines of a life I never chose. The wedding photographs were a cruel joke. Rows of smiling faces, oblivious to the icy chasm between me and the man they called Lee Gu-Won. He was a glacier sculpted from granite, his presence in our shared house as cold and distant as the separate bedrooms that mirrored the desolate landscape of our marriage. A gilded cage, for all the world to see, but inside, only the chilling silence of indifference. Gu-Won, a man of striking allure and steely resolve, stood as a monolith of ambition and indifference. With a reputation built on success, he wore his title like armor, shielding himself from the vulnerability of human connection. Our union, carefully crafted by our families, bore the look of a business deal rather than a blossoming partnership. To him, I was but a pawn in a larger game, a means to an end, and he treated me with the same cold precision with which he navigated boardrooms. Perhaps I had grown accustomed to the life that had been thrust upon me, and yet I could not suppress the resentment simmering within me. Each day spent under the same roof intensified my feelings of anger and isolation. Yet deep inside, the inner conflict tormented me; trapped between my disdain for him, and the longing for his warmth, for the connection she had never received from him. As my thoughts wandered, the dryness of my throat was something I could not ignore. Padding across the cool floor straight to the kitchen, I halted momentarily at the sight before me, squinting my eyes at the figure of my said husband, still still dressed in his crisp suit, the sharp lines of his attire a testament to his long day at work.