Secret Husband

22

Nostalgia filled the air, its bittersweet scent lingering as the familiar comforts of home surrounded me. The soft cushions of our worn couch, the faded photographs on the walls, and the faint scent of old books all conspired to transport me back to a time when life was simpler. Our wedding certificate, a tangible reminder of the vows we had made to each other, had been searched for, its absence a poignant reminder of the distance that now lay between us.

The silence was broken by the sound of the door opening, its creaky hinges announcing the arrival of Min Yoongi. His voice, once full of warmth and love, now seemed distant, a faint echo of a memory as he called out.

“Y/N!” His tone was tinged with surprise, seeing me sitting in the same spot where we had shared so many laughter-filled moments, our dreams and aspirations hanging in the air like the faintest whisper of a forgotten melody. But the truth was evident — he had long forgotten the memories we made here, consumed by his new life and his mother’s endless matchmaking attempts, leaving me alone to hold on to the fragments of our past.

“Take a seat!” I offer, gesturing to the couch opposite me. The unspoken implication hangs in the air: this ain't your home anymore, since you don't treat it like one. Might as well treat you as a guest. And anyway, more space for me. I mentally roll my eyes, keeping the wedding certificate beside me. His gaze falls on it, and he asks.

“You still keep this?” I can't help but think, what a ridiculous question. “Are you even listening to yourself?” I respond, my voice laced with sarcasm.

“Aren't married couples supposed to have their marriage certificate, unless you've thrown yours away?” The bitterness seeps into my tone, a testament to the hurt and resentment that's been building up.

“No, wait—that’s not what I meant!” The panic was written all over his face. “Don’t even think about keeping secrets from me. If I find out what you’ve been up to behind my back, it’ll be a dreadful day for you.” I warn him, my tone firm. He nods nervously, his eyes darting around the room.

“You must know why we’re sitting here today, together, after weeks of ignoring each other.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. I press on, my words direct. “Good! Then let’s get straight to the point. Do you want to stay in this marriage or not?” The shock on his face is palpable, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Of course I want to stay in this marriage, Y/N. I love you a lot.” He says, his voice laced with desperation.

“I know we've been going through some ups and downs recently. But I assure you, we can sort this out.” He stands up, likely trying to appear more convincing, but I'm not having it. Raising my hands in the air, I halt him.

“Sit back down. We need to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.” He gulps, his eyes darting around the room, before reluctantly obeying me.

I press on, my tone firm and resolute. “You have only one crucial choice now. Send your mother back by tomorrow, or continue being a generous filial son and forget this marriage ever existed. We can continue pretending we don't know each other, just the way it's been going on. Your mother is the reason why our marriage has come to this extent. Her vanishing from our lives is really necessary.”

I emphasize each word, making it clear that this is a make-or-break moment.

“Y/N, she’ll leave soon, I promise. Until then, could you please bear with it?” Min Yoongi says, his words dripping with innocence, but I’m not buying it. His eyes plead with me to understand, but I see right through his facade.