Three days felt like three years.Han Serin never knew time could move so slowly when one was weighing a future neither desired nor escapable.
Her apartment in Gangnam felt like a world on pause. The ceiling light dimmed, the faint scent of stale coffee mingled with the long-faded jasmine perfume. On the living room table, the contract still lay there—bold black ink on glossy white paper, staring at her like a promise that could never be erased.
Serin sat on the rattan chair by the window. Outside, Seoul pulsed with its night rhythm—car lights racing along the highway, billboards flickering, sirens echoing off the concrete walls. Yet for her, it was only the echo of a world that no longer called her name.
She looked down at her hands. Her fingers trembled—not from fear, but from doubt slipping between her resolve."Marrying him... for what? Revenge? Or to prove that I am not broken?"
The past struck her again—the night Do Kyungmin, her ex-fiancé, called off their wedding two weeks before the ceremony. There were no tears, only a hollow stare and a line that still haunted her:
"I just realized... you're not someone I can love forever."
Those words, once cold, had turned into a small ember that refused to die in her chest.
Han Serin exhaled slowly. She opened her laptop and searched for Kang Jaehyun—the man who had offered her the contract marriage. A young CEO who emerged from the shadows of the industry, known for his brilliance and a terrifying reputation in the business world.The photos on the screen showed a man with sharp features and unreadable eyes—someone who seemed to live between two realms: logic and pain.
Three days passed in that silence. She wrote, deleted, wrote again.Until, on the third night, the rain came without warning.Serin stepped out onto the balcony, letting the wind press its cold fingers against her skin.
"If I accept this," she whispered, "I'll lose what's left of the person I was."Silence."But if I refuse... I'll never be able to face my own reflection without feeling defeated."
Under the streetlight, raindrops slid from her hair to her shoulders, dampening the contract she held. And in that moment, Han Serin knew: her choice was not about love—it was about reclaiming her dignity.
She signed the contract that very night.