welcome to the hell HUSBAND

Joong believed marriage was redemption. Proof that surviving still meant something.
The wedding is flawless-marble floors, crystal lights, perfection in every detail. Joong walks down the aisle alone, dressed in white, smiling softly beneath the lights. He is alone not because he has no family, but because they chose not to stand beside him.
At the altar waits Dunk Natachai-the man Joong has loved since he was fourteen. Older, composed, unreachable once, and now impossibly his husband. For a moment, it feels like a miracle.
Until Joong reaches him.
Dunk does not extend his hand.
The pause is small, barely noticeable, but Joong feels it instantly-a warning where warmth should have been. The vows are spoken. Applause fills the hall. The kiss is brief, polite, and wrong.
Then Dunk leans close and whispers, meant only for him:
"Welcome to hell, husband."
Joong's smile does not break. He has learned how to smile even when something inside him goes completely still.
What follows is not a love story, but a marriage that becomes a sentence rather than a sanctuary. Hope turns into control. Affection fades into cruelty. Silence replaces devotion.
This is not a story about a wedding, but about a fall.
And whether Joong survives it remains unanswered.