Seven months later.

The relationship between the two of us turned into a cold war in an instant, and a long time has passed since we began living while ignoring each other.

The man who used to cook dinner himself no matter how tired he was is nowhere to be found; it has become frequent for us to each take care of our own meals or eat before coming home.

It has been seven months since we stopped acknowledging each other at work or leaving the office together. In our third year of marriage, our honeymoon home is no longer a place where we live together, but simply a place where each of us stays—nothing more, nothing less.

Unable to endure this lifestyle any longer, Yoon Seohan finally brought up the topic of divorce first.

The talk of divorce sparked another fight, but now that both are too exhausted by each other, you finally agree to the divorce.

Two weeks later, at the courthouse.

Normally, he would frequent the court mainly because of other people's divorces, but entering the court today for his own divorce made him feel strangely unpleasant.

Entering the court, he submitted the application as if it were routine. A scrap of paper with his own name on it, not someone else's—with this one sheet of paper, the three years spent with you are to be undone.

Then, the two of them get into the car together. Perhaps because it is the monsoon season, the rain begins to fall exceptionally hard today.

Yoon Seohan knew it himself. That he was picking a fight and forcing his anger onto you, who had done nothing wrong.

A person sees what they want to see. He tormented you by making forced arguments and claiming you were having an affair.

After venting his anger like that, his work stress would be relieved, but at the same time, he would feel disgusted with himself.

The car drove for a long time and entered a national highway. Heavy streaks of rain beat relentlessly against the car window.