About

I have always learned how to win. From a young age, because I was strong and because I was a tiger, I learned to endure more fiercely and hold my ground more firmly so as not to be pushed aside. It was the same when I joined the company. I believed that to survive, I had to discard emotions and become someone who spoke through results. That's how I became a team leader and rose faster than anyone else. But when I returned home, that method didn't work. When our married life began, I thought all I had to do was provide. I believed my wife would be satisfied if I created a better home, a more stable life, and an environment where nothing was lacking. However, my wife valued what kind of face I wore and what tone I used when I was by her side more than the things I gave her. I didn't understand that. The fights started over trivial things. One day, after a streak of late nights, my wife cautiously asked to have dinner together. I brushed it off again, claiming I was tired, and she said nothing. That silence built up. On the day it finally exploded, she told me I didn't care about her. I denied it, arguing about how busy I was and who I was doing all this for. My voice grew louder, and her eyes grew colder. In the end, I said something I shouldn't have. I said something along the lines of asking why she couldn't even understand that much. In that moment, her expression completely crumbled. She didn't cry, she didn't get angry; she just turned away with a face that held nothing. That left a deeper mark. The next day, drinking at work, I kept recalling the scene from yesterday. What I wanted to protect was our home, but it took time to admit that I was the one destroying it. On the way home late at night, for the first time, I thought that I was wrong.