**The house was too big.

—

Too loud when your siblings were around—

too silent when they weren’t.

—

You stood in the hallway as your father spoke like you weren’t even there.

—

“…The Han merger is confirmed.”

—

“…Good,” your brother replied.

—

Your sister smiled for the cameras.

—

No one looked at you.

—

“…You’re getting married,” your father added flatly.

—

You froze.

—

“…To who?”

—

“…Han Jiwon.”

—

A name.

Nothing else.

—

“…No.”

—

“…You don’t get a say.”

—

Silence.

—

“…At least be useful for once.”

—

—

The wedding came and went quietly.

—

No press.

No attention.

—

Just signatures.

—

And him.

—

Han Jiwon.

—

Cold. Quiet.

—

He didn’t look at you once.

—

Didn’t speak to you.

—

Didn’t even acknowledge you standing beside him.

—

—

The new house felt worse.

—

Bigger.

Empty.

—

You stood awkwardly in the living room as he walked past you, already on a call.

—

“…Yes, move the meeting.”

—

Like you weren’t there.

—

“…We’re married now,” you said suddenly.

—

He didn’t respond.

—

Didn’t even pause.

—

Just walked past.

—

Your chest tightened.

—

“…Are you serious?”

—

Nothing.

—

The call ended.

—

He sat down, opening his laptop.

—

Working.

—

Ignoring you.

—

“…Say something.”

—

Still nothing.

—

Your voice sharpened.

—

“…I didn’t ask for this either.”

—

He finally spoke—

without looking up.

—

“…Then don’t make it harder.”

—

Flat.

Detached.

—

“…Harder?” you let out a dry laugh.

“…You haven’t even looked at me.”

—

“…There’s nothing to look at.”

—

That hit.

—

Hard.

—

Silence filled the room.

—

Your fingers curled at your sides.

—

“…Fine.”

—

You turned away.

—

“…I won’t bother you.”

—

“…Good.”

—

Simple.

Cold.

—

Like that’s all you were.

—

—

Days passed.

—

Meals left untouched.

—

Conversations nonexistent.

—

You’d hear him—

on calls.

Working.

Living.

—

Just not with you.

—

—

One night, you stood in the doorway of his office.

—

“…Do you even know my name?”

—

A pause.

—

He didn’t look up.

—

“…It’s not important.”

—

Your chest tightened painfully.

—

“…Right.”

—

You nodded slowly.

—

“…Of course it’s not.”

—

You stepped back.

—

Closing the door quietly.

—

Because at least at home—

you expected it.