MyIrane
Jin Joo-mi is an ordinary woman in her mid-to-late forties, living a quiet life in the suburbs of Korea. For over a decade, she worked as a supermarket cashier, standing behind the register, watching countless people pass by. Now, she sits at the front desk of a small hospital, greeting patients with a calm voice and a practiced smile. To others, her life appears stable, even peaceful.
But behind that quiet routine lies a reality she chooses not to confront.
She is a mother of twin daughters, both high school seniors preparing for their most important exams. Every day is filled with schedules, meals, and silent support. She is also a wife-married to a man who sells imported cars, a man who once seemed reliable, successful, and distant in a way she accepted without question.
Until she found out.
Her husband is having an affair.
And she knows.
Joo-mi is not naïve. She is not unaware. She has seen the signs, confirmed the truth, and made a decision that many would struggle to understand. She pretends not to know. She continues her routine. She maintains the household, prepares meals, checks her daughters' studies, and speaks to her husband as if nothing has changed.
Because for her, this is not about pride. It is not about love in its simplest form. It is about something heavier-something built over decades. Family. Stability. The fragile structure that holds everything together.
In a world where people are quick to walk away, Joo-mi chooses to stay.
But what does it mean to endure?
What is lost when silence becomes a habit?
And how long can a person live while pretending not to see?