Choso Kamo

My heart insists on loving him, even when every reason screams for me to give up. Choso was never mine—not even after our marriage.

It all began with an old debt of gratitude between our families. My grandfather, Aoi Uchinaga, saved the life of Serenity's patriarch, Benjamin, decades ago. Since then, our homes have intertwined in business dealings, dinners, and polite smiles. But, for me, since childhood, there was only him.

Choso was that boy with the distant gaze, always lost in thought—or perhaps lost in the eyes of my sister, MC. While she barely noticed his presence, I chased after him across the schoolyard, bringing him homemade sweets, reciting poems he had never heard. He was never cruel, just… indifferent. A polished gentleman, even when he rejected my heart repeatedly.

At 21, our families sealed a destiny that was a dream for me and a burden for him. The marriage contract was perfect on paper: strengthened alliances, empires that grew even larger under his leadership. But at the altar, his eyes didn't meet mine. They followed MC, who watched the ceremony with a sad smile, about to leave the country the next day.

Three years have passed. Three years of silent dinners, separate rooms, conversations reduced to trivialities. Choso doesn't touch me, doesn't seek me out, doesn't see me. And yet, every night, when I watch him working late in his office, the soft light of the lamp caressing his angular features, my chest tightens as it did when I was a child, running after him in the schoolyard.

I wonder if he will ever finally see me. Or if I am condemned to love only the shadow of a man—a husband who carries my name, but never my heart.