As it turns out, the owner of the art gallery, who introduces himself to me as Mr. Kim Taehyung, is a good friend of Sunghoon. He allowed us access to the art gallery outside of regular opening hours.
Absolutely enraptured by all the different paintings, I walk through the gallery. Sunghoon is constantly at my side, silently looking at the paintings.
Astonished, I stop at an abstract acrylic painting. It was painted in magnificent shades of blue and yellow and looks as if the artist had tried to combine two different paintings that at first glance do not fit together, yet complement each other wonderfully.
The colors blend into each other and blend into a pleasant green that acts like the ribbon between the two paintings, melding them into one painting.
"Wow," I whisper in amazement, running my fingers over the rough canvas where the blue and yellow blend into a green.
"Do you like it?", Sunghoon wants to know. It sounds like he can't really understand why I like this painting so much. Still, I nod.
"It looks boring," Sunghoon remarks. I look indignantly at the young man, who is wearing only a plain white shirt without a tie today and has tucked it into his black pants. "You look boring," I say in a huff and cross my arms.
Stung by his derogatory words, I want to move on, but Sunghoon grabs my upper arm and pulls me back. "I don't know about art and I'm not interested in it," Sunghoon confesses to me, pointing to the acrylic painting, which I almost like more at second glance. "Tell me what you like about it. Maybe you can change my mind."
"Just look at it," I say, looking at the painting. "It reminds me of two things put together, even though at first glance they look absolutely nothing like each other. But if you look at the transition..." Gently, I run my fingers over the transition where the two colors meet. "...Like the yellow and blue together make a brilliant green, they do go together."
"Do you know the meanings of the colors?", Sunghoon wants to know, looking at me from the side. I shake my head.
"The color yellow," Sunghoon begins, stroking the yellow paint. "At first glance, one associates it with optimism, cheerfulness.... But on the other hand, it also represents greed and selfishness."
Sunghoon wanders his fingers across the canvas to the blue side. "Blue... seems cold. But it also represents longing, the pursuit of harmony, contentment and constancy."
Spellbound, I listen to Sunghoon's words as he wanders his fingers to the transition. "Green..." he whispers right by my ear, triggering a pleasant tingling sensation on the back of my neck, from which goosebumps spread over my entire body. "Stands for balance. It can only come from an interplay of blue and yellow, and thus you are right."
Sunghoon puts his hand on my back and I stand frozen as the goosebumps on my body continue to strengthen.
"At first glance, they don't match, yet they complement each other." I swallow hard as Sunghoon takes his hand off my back and takes a step away from me.
After Sunghoon's explanation, I see the painting with different eyes. I like it even better now than before. "So you do know about art," I state, looking at Sunghoon. A wry smile creeps onto his lips and his eyes bore deeply into mine.
"Do you still like the painting?", Sunghoon wants to know after a few seconds in which we just stared at each other without responding to my previous statement.
I look longingly at the painting on the wall before nodding. "Let's keep going," I say quietly. Because of my father's financial situation, I can't afford to buy such an expensive painting.
With his arms folded behind his back, Sunghoon follows me through the gallery, where we look at the rest of the paintings. They are all beautiful, but none of them captivates me as much as the painting before.
"Wow, you guys were out for quite a while," Taehyung states in amazement when we finally see each painting and return to the entrance hall.
"Dolores was very fascinated by the paintings," Sunghoon replies for me. Since what he says is true, I nod in agreement. "Thank you so much for letting us be here Mr. Kim," I say, smiling politely at Taehyung. And not just because it's something my father would ask of me, but because I really mean it.
"Do you want to buy one of the paintings?" he finally asks, glancing back and forth between Sunghoon and me. "No," I say. "Yes," Sunghoon says at the exact same time, however.
Confused, Taehyung looks back and forth between us. "Do you want to clarify this again?" he wants to know. "Yes," I say. "No," Sunghoon says firmly.
Taehyung laughs, throwing his head back. "I'll give you a few minutes to discuss," he suggests. "We don't need those... Number 81," Sunghoon informs his friend.
Painting number 81 is that painting that I liked so much. Taehyung nods in agreement and waves his co-worker behind him before they disappear into the gallery hallways to retrieve said painting.
"Sunghoon...", I say in panic, lowering my gaze in shame. "I can't afford to do that. My father will rip my head off!"
"Relax-," Sunghoon replies, gently grasping my chin. He lifts my face and turns it in his direction. "I'll give it to you, of course."
"Oh," is all I can say. On one hand, I'm relieved, of course, but on the other, I feel like it's an attempt by Sunghoon to bribe me and gain my trust. "Thank you," I say anyway, and swallow hard when Sunghoon still doesn't let go of my face and instead continues to look deeply into my eyes.
"So, here it is. I'm sure the artist will be pleased that you liked his painting," Taehyung informs us as he and his associate join us with the painting.
Immediately, Sunghoon lets go of my face and turns to his good friend. Sunghoon pays for the painting and Taehyung and his associate carry it to the black Bentley waiting for us outside the gallery, where they stow it in the trunk.
"It was nice to meet you, Dolores," Taehyung says, blowing a kiss on my cheek left and right. Sunghoon, standing next to us, clears his throat briefly, whereupon Taehyung turns to him, laughing. "It was really nice to see you again, Hoon."
Taehyung and Sunghoon hug, Taehyung patting his friend on the back brotherly. It's strange to see Sunghoon, who I've previously perceived as rather cold-hearted and dismissive, so familiar.
"Until next time, Tae," Sunghoon replies, opening the back door of the black Bentley. With a gallant wave of his hand, he invites me to get in. I comply with this request and wave to Taehyung one last time before Sunghoon closes the car door and walks to the other side of the car to get in.
"Taehyung is really nice," I say as the car starts moving. Sunghoon returns my gaze silently before nodding in agreement.
I direct my gaze out the window and watch the people walking through the streets. "Did you enjoy our visit to the art gallery?", Sunghoon wants to know after some minutes we spent in silent .
I nod. "Yes," I reply quietly. Although I'll probably never feel as happy and free as the people sitting outside cafes eating ice cream with their families again, today's trip briefly took my mind off things. For a moment, I actually felt really comfortable in his presence, but then I remembered that none of this really matters.
Sunghoon and I are spending time together for only one reason. Namely, because Sunghoon wants to get to know me better before we marry each other in less than a month.
"Can I ask you something?" Curious, I look at Sunghoon, whose face is still turned toward me. He nods. Nervously, I chew on my lower lip. I don't know how he'll react when I broach the subject to him, and I don't know how much it will affect his currently, for once, rather pleasant mood into the negative.
"Why do I have to marry you?" Sunghoon continues to look at me with an unchanged expression. His golden eyes bore deeply into my green eyes. With difficulty, I withstand his gaze, for I am afraid that if I avert my eyes, he will simply leave it at that.
"I know your father's story," Sunghoon finally begins, averting his gaze from me to look out the window instead.
"I know that he himself ripped off business partners who supported him financially for years. After my father died, my uncle took over the company for a few years. At that time, things were not going well financially and he had to lay off a third of the employees. Also, they moved me to a hospital in Switzerland because they were using a therapy and medications there that were supposed to increase my chances of recovery. They worked, but the therapy took a while and the amount of money to pay for it was in the millions. My uncle got into one of your father's businesses. A handsome profit was in prospect and your father assured my uncle of half, which could save both the cost of my therapy and the company. Your father knew that one day he might get into trouble and in return he demanded that my company support him financially when the time came," Sunghoon says.
It's hard for me to follow what he's telling me because, of course, I have no idea about all the business my father did. "And the time has come," I state. Sunghoon merely nods.
"But what does that have to do with me?", I want to know. "You're my insurance," Sunghoon replies, shrugging his shoulders as if it's no big deal. "Your father is and always will be a fraud. Who can assure me that he won't bankrupt my company if given the chance?"
"Then don't help him," I suggest. "It's not that simple," Sunghoon replies, "Why not? It's my father's own fault that he's in this position now. If he goes bankrupt, he can't be dangerous to you either," I explain to Sunghoon.
"My family has never gone back on its word," Sunghoon explains to me, eyeing me briefly. "You wouldn't have been my first choice either," he adds, because apparently he seems to know that my main concern is that I don't want to marry him.
His words hit exactly the right spot. Hurt and disappointed, I turn my gaze out the window to stop looking at Sunghoon.
Actually, I can't care what he thinks of me. And yet it hurts my feelings to know that he apparently finds me so repulsive.
For the rest of the ride, neither of us says a word, which is just fine with me, because it helps me hide the tears that roll down my cheeks as I stare out the window.
A/N: The artist of the painting is someone special, who will be revealed sometime later :))