Secret Husband

10

If despising someone were a trend, harboring disdain for my mother-in-law would have turned me into an overnight billionaire. I'd inundate the internet with endless videos showcasing her disruptive presence, wreaking havoc on my otherwise peaceful marriage. Alas, such is not the case. As I sigh, washing my face, I take a moment to lean against the wall, contemplating her imminent intrusion into my privacy. Yet, why should I acquiesce to her demands? This is my domain; I am the rightful owner of this household. An outsider cannot simply usurp my authority and dictate my actions.

With determination, I swing open the door, startling her, causing the phone in her grasp to nearly slip away. The satisfaction I derive from her reaction is palpable. Her audacity knows no bounds. Do not blame me for my brusqueness; since her arrival, my life has been a chaotic mess, devoid of peace or respite. Is my marriage a regrettable mistake? Such thoughts plague my mind, robbing me of sleep and serenity.

“Oh, Y/N, I heard a notification from your phone and thought to check if it was an important call,” she says with feigned innocence.

“Since when does a messaging app mimic a phone call notification, aunt?” I retort, my voice cool and distant. Witnessing the fear flicker across her face brings a semblance of satisfaction. Forgive me, Yoongi, but your mother's presence compels me to tread cautiously.  If I do not assert myself today, she will continue to encroach upon our lives, incessantly knocking on our doors.

“I—” Her pallor deepens, and I suppress the urge to revel in her discomfort, maintaining my composure. “I will attend to the matter myself. Thank you for your assistance.”

Retrieving the phone from her hand, I proceed to scrutinize the widgets, catching her off guard. This is only the beginning, dear mother-in-law.

“I don't recall accessing these apps,” she stammers, averting her gaze. “Perhaps it occurred during a tedious morning meeting. How absent-minded of me.” Chuckling inwardly, she readily agrees, eager to depart upon mentioning Jin's culinary creation for the evening. 

“Oh— look, I just remember Jin had prepared a special delicacy for the night. Gotta leave, can't let the young man's cooking go to waste.” I bid her farewell, closing the door behind her, her hurried footsteps likely rousing the neighbors from their slumber.

Dialing Yoongi’s number, I hear his disgruntled grumble on the other end. “Where are you? Are you hiding?” “Return home immediately,” I command, preempting any further inquiry.

“Well, that should leave him both shocked and pondering,” I muse, before fetching a glass of fine wine from the kitchen. The doorbell interrupts my thoughts, and upon opening the door, I am met with Yoongi's panicked countenance. His mouth however dropped seeing me dress in my usual nightgown.

“Is she not here?” Gesturing for him to enter, I inform him of his mother's hasty departure. “Just scared her away. She won't be returning anytime soon.” His demeanor shifts, and he questions my actions.

“It was a necessary measure for our sake,” I explained. “I refuse to perpetuate this charade and endure the constant intrusion. She must know of our bond.” His response is less than favorable. “There is nothing between us, Y/N,” he asserts, avoiding my gaze. My incredulity mounts with each denial. My lips left that cold liquid staring at him with a perplexed expression.

“What exactly do these words mean?” “You know what I meant.”

The glass slipped from my hand and landed on the floor. It was my rage throwing it away.

“You're fucking denying our marriage? Don't tell me I'll have to accept the idea you're gonna get together with another woman behind my back and I'll watch it like a stupid bitch would. All because I'm love sick all over you. That I won't even mind my husband being shared by the woman his mother loves and this whole marriage is a joke to you?”

With every word my voice grew louder. I was yelling at this point. While he refused to meet my gaze. “So, she was correct! You are entertaining the notion of being with the woman of her choosing,” I accuse, my voice escalating. “Perhaps divorce is the only recourse.”

His eyes widen as I storm away, my steps crunching on the remnants of shattered glass. It pains me, not physically but emotionally.

“Wait, that's not what I meant,” he protests, reaching for my arm.
“I am well aware of your implications.” I retorted, resisting his touch. “Do not feign ignorance. Are you seeing her? Is she captivating? Does she fulfill your desires?”

Doubt, once planted, festers within a relationship, rendering reconciliation untenable. Pushing him away, I continue my retreat, his gaze fixating on the crimson-stained footprints. With urgency, he scoops me up and transports me to the living room, disregarding my protests.

“Put me down, I don't wanna be touched by you.” 
“Be a good girl. Sit and refrain from moving.”
“What makes you think I'll obey you?”

Walking away, he declined to answer my question, leaving my anger beyond control at this point. Bringing back the first aid kid he starts treating my wound.

“Oh, please cease this already. You needn't play the role of the good old man after uttering those words earlier.” Like every other human, at times when I lose my composure, I refuse to see the reality in front of me. The person standing before me seemed like a sworn devil. His words made me doubt his love and care.

“I apologize,” he said, tending to my injured feet, his voice clear and audible.

“I’m sorry! I regret the events of these past days and the strain they've placed on our marriage. I assure you, I have no intention of marrying her. I've declined to meet her at every opportunity. It's my mother who harbors illusions and attempts to arrange a match with that woman. I've neither seen her nor do I desire to. Let's resolve this conflict and be forthright with our parents. The outcome matters little; what's important is that the world knows we belong together.”

“You understand it's not that simple; your mother would not hesitate to disown you. I refuse to be the catalyst for discord between you and your family,” I replied. As he sat on the sofa, he embraced me, holding my left hand.

“And what about you? Won't your family object to our relationship as well? I'm well aware of the challenges. Why don't we face them together?” He pleaded.

Despite my disdain for his mother, I couldn't bear the guilt of being the cause of a son's estrangement from his mother.

“Let’s put an end to this for now. I'm exhausted,” I stated, distancing myself and limping to the bedroom, awaiting his arrival. The sound of the front door closing pained my heart. Had he left without a word? Were his earlier declarations mere falsehoods?

The more I dwelled on it, the more disheartening it became. I deluded myself into believing all would be well. My mind acknowledged his departure from our home today, leaving my future uncertain. Yet, foolishly, my heart clung to hope. Despite our trials, I reassured myself that everything would resolve by day's end. We've overcome greater challenges in the past. This is nothing new. Oh, if only I could place trust in my heart and cease overthinking through the night.