Secret Husband✔️

26

Upon entering my apartment, I am immediately greeted by my mother and a group of uninvited guests sitting opposite her. I had anticipated this scenario, and my instincts tell me it's not going to be a pleasant encounter. Following my divorce from Y/N, we temporarily stayed in a hotel before I secured this apartment. Regrettably, my mother is now exploiting this situation for her own purposes.

As I take a seat beside her, I can sense her pride and enthusiasm as she introduces me to the guests. “This is my son Yoongi, the one I've mentioned earlier.”

She says, boasting about me as if I'm a prized possession. I feel like an obedient son, sitting beside her, looking down at my attire – still dressed in my suit and socks. Those socks, with their intricate patterns, seem far more captivating than the people sitting in front of me.

My mother's voice continues to resonate, filled with excitement and anticipation. She is eager to share her plans with me, but I'm well aware of her intentions. I've already sensed the direction this conversation is heading, and I'm not pleased about it. The guests, too, seem to be waiting with bated breath, their eyes fixed on me as if I'm the main attraction.

I feel trapped, unable to escape this suffocating situation. My mind races with thoughts and doubts, and I'm desperate for a way out. But for now, I remain silent, unsure of how to react to this sudden announcement. The silence stretches out, a taut cord waiting to snap. I know I must speak up, but the words refuse to come. My mother's eyes never leave mine, her gaze a constant reminder of the expectations she's placed upon me.

“Yoongi, meet her – she’s the one you're getting married to. My best friend's daughter. The one I've been talking to you about for the past month. I'm aware you've already been on a date and spoken quite a lot. Can't hide my excitement – you're finally getting married, haha!”

My mother's voice echoes through the room, her fake laughter grating on my nerves. I can't help but wonder when I ever equally participated in her conversations.

“As discussed earlier, we can proceed with the wedding. How about the 28th of this month?” She continues, her words dripping with excitement. I'm taken aback by her eagerness, her enthusiasm for this arranged marriage. What's so special about the 28th of this month that she's so insistent on getting me married on that day? I can feel my frustration building, my desire to speak out growing stronger.

“She really believes in all those shamanic rituals and dates prescribed, doesn't she?”

I think to myself, my mind racing with doubts and questions. Who is this shaman, and why do they hold such sway over my mother's decisions? Why does this shaman think they know people's lives and events better than the people themselves?

The lady supposed to be my future mother-in-law smiles, her voice dripping with sweetness. “We are fine with it, Yoon Ju.” I can sense her approval, her acceptance of this arranged marriage. But I'm not fine with it – I'm trapped, suffocating under the weight of my mother's expectations.

“Why don't you and my daughter go out and have some talk alone?” She suggests, her words like a prison sentence. Oh, please no – not these formalities. I can't bear the thought of being trapped in a conversation with a stranger, forced to make small talk and pretend to be interested.

I feel like I'm living in a nightmare, a never-ending cycle of expectations and obligations. My mind races with thoughts of escape, of freedom from this suffocating situation.

“Thank you, but I prefer not to.” I say, trying to extricate myself from the situation. “It'll be rude, especially with the elder sitting in here.” Her father laughs, and I can sense the tension in the room easing.