During their short engagement and the early weeks of their marriage, Haneul had allowed herself to hope Kyungsoo loved her. He was so passionate and exciting.

She’d told herself no one got married for the sake of a baby, anymore. She’d tried to imagine the night they’d created Hakyung was the result of a mutual and overwhelming desire. Something magical.

But you could only go on lying to yourself for so long.

He’d never once said he loved her. Not on their wedding day. Or during Hakyung’s premature birth. Not even when they’d first heard the words Necrotising Enterocolitis.

He’d married her because she was pregnant with his baby. Because he was too good a man to leave her to cope with the consequences alone. Deep down she’d always known that, from the very beginning when he’d slipped the wedding band on her finger.

But she’d hoped and dreamed of the day when he’d realize he’d loved her all along. Only that hadn’t happened. Instead, they’d been locked into the nightmare of Hakyung’s illness, a huge wedge between them.

Haneul lifted the lid of the teapot and stirred the contents, acutely aware of Kyungsoo watching her. "I think I’ll pack a bag and stay at the hospital for the next few nights."

Kyungsoo’s fingers moved on the worktop. "You’re supposed to be getting some rest."

She shrugged. "I find it easier if I can see her."

"Haneul, she’s getting the best possible care. She’s — "

"In the best place. I know."

It was what everyone said, but she didn’t believe that. The best place would be home with her, well and happy. At thirteen months, she should be getting into everything, starting to walk, making sounds they could both pretend were words…

Haneul focused all her attention on what she was doing. She poured the milk into two cobalt blue mugs and carefully added the tea.

"You’ll be ill yourself if you don’t pace yourself."

Haneul wanted to scream at him that he didn’t understand. That her world had shrunk to the hospital where Hakyung spent her days tied to a ventilator, whereas he still spent his in the outside world pursuing a lucrative career as an investment banker. It was only on evenings and weekends that he touched the agony that was her day–to–day existence.

She said nothing. Instead, her fingers closed around her warm mug and she sipped the hot tea.

"You could get more involved in the campaign to try and find a donor," Kyungsoo suggested, reaching out for his own drink. "Do something practical. The local paper is going to run a story on Hakyung and the hope is it’ll be picked up by the nationals. They want to print a few pictures —"

"No." The word shot from .

Kyungsoo looked across at her. "What do you mean?"

"I don’t want Hakyung’s face plastered all over the paper. I don’t want people seeing all the tubes and…" She covered her face with a hand and tried to fight back the tears.

Kyungsoo watched helplessly. He understood what Haneul was really saying — that she didn’t want Hakyung to be ill. But she was…and the best chance, the only chance, Hakyung had was for a liver donor to be found.

"It’s an excellent opportunity," he said carefully. "I contacted them last week and I had a phone call yesterday from one of the reporters. I meant to tell you…but you came back from the hospital so late. The idea is to appeal directly to bereaved