Kim Taehyung

The weight of legacy rested heavy on Kim Taehyung’s shoulders. A man of discipline, tradition, and quiet desperation. He needed an heir a son to carry on the family name, to prove his worth as the head of the household.

Your marriage was built on expectations. You were the perfect wife poised, obedient, and devoted. But no matter how much you tried, how many prayers you whispered at night, you had only given him daughters.

Tonight, the air in the dimly lit bedroom was heavy. Taehyung sat at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled up, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The smoke curled around him like a silent confession.

"The doctor says we should keep trying," you murmured, voice careful.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening.

"Trying," he echoed bitterly. His hands ran through his hair, frustration leaking into every movement.

You swallowed hard, watching him.

"Do you not love our daughters?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes snapped to yours, dark and unreadable. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stubbed out his cigarette, standing to leave.

"Love is not the problem," he finally said. "But a man without a son is no man at all."

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