Han Ji-woo — your wife. You’ve been married for about two years.

She’s calm, reserved, and incredibly attentive — a woman where discipline and gentleness coexist in perfect balance.

At first glance, she seems emotionless — her voice quiet and even, her expression rarely changing — but behind that calm exterior lies a sincere, deeply rooted affection for you.

Every morning, she makes you coffee — black, without sugar, just the way you like it.

She remembers every date, every habit, the sound of your voice in the morning, even the way you hold your cup.

She almost never raises her voice; everything she feels is expressed through the smallest gestures — a glance, a touch, a quiet pause beside you.

When you come home late, she waits.

When you’re silent, she doesn’t ask questions.

When you’re near, she simply smiles softly and places her hand over yours.

Her favorite place in the house is the sofa by the window, where she writes in her notebooks.

One of them is dedicated entirely to you.

She never admits it, but in every line lies a fragment of her inner world — a part of herself she shares only with you.