Stepping out of the car, I found myself drowning in the sea of flashes and shouts from each side. I could barely see in front of me, and under the scrutinizing gazes of the photographers, reporters, and news anchors, I found myself immobilized. I couldn't move, couldn't think. I froze as the flashes haven't stopped even for a second.
It was overwhelming, to say the least, and I felt my heart rate speeding up, as I grew uncomfortable with how close everyone was. At that moment, I just wanted to run and hide away from everyone and everything. I felt panic settle inside my chest, and it only kept on growing as the shouts seemed to get even louder.
My ears were ringing, my eyes failed to focus on anything as I frantically snapped my head from left to right, and my legs felt wobbly on the four-inch heels. No matter where I looked, it seemed to be wrong as more yells filled the surrounding air to look in a different direction, to give a smile, to answer the curious questions. But how could I smile when I felt as if my chest was constricting?
I was vulnerable in front of the prying cameras, under the bright flashes of loud camera clicks. And I hated being vulnerable, being so naked in front of everyone. I hated being the center of attention, just how I hated being the one who was observed and judged.
And the louder the shouts got, the harder I found it to breathe.
Thankfully, I was snapped out of my surely building up a panic attack by a firm hold on my hand that pulled me forward.
My attention snapped to Chanyeol, who's been looking at me with a smile I recognized as the painful one where he wanted to give me the "what the fuck are you doing" look, and that seemed to pull me into reality. I couldn't afford to be vulnerable, being exposed, or panicking. No, I had to hold my head high and walk down the red carpet without a hitch, as if my lungs didn't feel like they were collapsing. As if my palms haven't started sweating excessively.
And as if my heart wasn't breaking out of my ribcage, desperately trying to escape the current situation straining it. Straining my whole being.
I was used to this - to the cameras in my face, to the yells, to the flashes. However, this was nothing like I've experienced before. There were many more people than I was used to, and that I've frankly expected. This was way too much, and my breathing became ragged and uneven. I was practically gasping for air.
Chanyeol didn't seem phased in the slightest though, and remained composed as he thrived in the flashes, basked in its light as a reptile did in the warm rays of the sun. So with that one look in his eyes that I knew what meant exactly, I shook my head and closed my eyes for the shortest moment to compose myself.
We started walking, both of us turning our heads and smiling for the cameras, and I hoped I looked as unbothered as I intended to. He wouldn't be happy if I appeared uncomfortable in our pictures. And I wouldn't like what would ensue if he wasn't pleased with my behavior, and the way I carried myself.
Reaching the platform, we turned around and posed for the cameras. Chanyeol's arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer and I, balancing myself from stumbling at the rather harsh tug, put my hand on his abdomen - grasping onto his suit. He looked down and smiled down at me as I did so, and I could practically hear the reporters swooning at his "loving gaze". It was all just pretend though, at least on my part. There was no love coming from me, and the one he was showing me was pure toxic and more a need to own me, rather than the need to take care of me and love me. But of course, the reporters didn't know that, and the flashes failed to penetrate our minds and capture what was really going on.
So once again, we would be presented like the beautiful picture-perfect power couple people admired and wanted a "love" like ours. We would once again be the goal couple whose spark hasn't died down one bit, even after three years of marriage. No wonder they asked us questions about how we kept our love alive and prevented it from getting boring with pictures like that. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled me closer, he knew what kind of attention it would bring. And of course, he loved good press. He loved being adored and keep up his perfect image I was forced to be a part of.
No one even knew how we ended up married because every time the question came up, we were the childhood friends turned lovers. Soulmates, they called us. It made me sick.
As if that abusive piece of shit could ever be my soulmate, my friend, or any sort of companion. No one knew that the only reason we were together was that I had to. Because it was what my parents wanted. That I was just carrying out their last wish, even if it made me miserable. And that no matter how bad it got, I could never leave. He would always have too much leverage over me, too much ownership for me to even move a single muscle without him knowing.
I just continued doing what I was taught - smile for the cameras and bask in Chanyeol's presence and touch. I was the luckiest woman alive to be married to him after all. There was no reason I should appear anything less than ecstatic. Because a hot hunk like him decided I was worthy enough to be his wife, out of all the women throwing themselves to his feet.
That was actually true. He was desired. Some even considered him a sex symbol.
Personally, I didn't see it. Not just because of the dislike, I had for him, but he was just so ordinary. There was nothing that made him stand out, other than being almost six feet tall and his ears. In my eyes, he was anything but handsome or attractive. I mean, he even looked like an asshole, but maybe that's what they found attractive, him looking like a "bad boy". Maybe that's what they admired and envied, that he was a "good boy" only for me. As if.
The moment seemed to pass in a blur, as we turned our bodies in every angle, so all the cameras could capture us before we walked down the steps of the small make-up stage and disappeared from the reporter's sight, behind the big double door leading inside the building.
As expected, the lobby was luxurious and posh, and it was already swarming with people dressed in a similar fashion. I didn't have to look around for too long to spot that even the few photographers that were allowed inside wore formal clothes to fit the dress code. If it weren't for the camera hanging on their shoulders, I would've just thought they were one of the many guests.
Chanyeol sent out a few invitations to the biggest media outlets and magazines, and the CEO was to pick the best photographer they had to attend. I knew this because as usual; he complained a lot, not really wanting any annoying reporters present. But knowing he had to, in order to keep up his image and show everyone his company has now moved to the US as well, their presence seemed to be required. I didn't quite understand the need for it and found it excessive since there were reporters outside who knew exactly what was happening tonight, but oh well. It's not like me pitching in mattered anyway, so I stayed silent.
But of course, unlike the photographers outside, these had to be mindful of the guest's space, not to be loud and just be respectful and mind their own business if they weren't taking pictures. They were there just so Chanyeol would make sure his pictures would be everywhere that he considered they mattered. They had to be strictly professional, and I was pretty sure they weren't even allowed to take a drink from the trays the servers were walking around with.
With Chanyeol's wealth, one would think he'd be more generous, or wouldn't care as much, but that wasn't the case at all. Because if the young CEO loved something, it was money. And he was quite greedy when it came down to it. The only two people he spent his money on were himself and me, not that I ever wanted him to. Secretly, I thought he didn't want to either, but seeing as he wanted to be a model husband, I think he sort of forced himself to without looking annoyed whenever he purchased something.
Leading me through the cold hallway, and saying hi to the people we passed, we entered the grand hall-like room. It was huge and well lit with the lighting system as well as the big windows on the sides. There were tables scattered around, a stage at the end of the room, and a dance floor.
I looked to the left where he kept me by his side, to see him grinning as he eyed the big space with a proud expression as if he has done anything other than paid for it. He had people to do everything for him, organize, decorate, send out invitations et cetera. But I wagered he must've felt proud about the sheer fact that so many important people, but not more important than him, showed up to celebrate him. Well, it wasn't just about him, but also about his partners, but for him and his ego, that was a minor defect that he wasn't all that bothered with.
Unlike my husband, though, I knew none of these people. The only time I might have seen any of them was in a magazine or at a different event where I caught a glimpse of them. None of these people were ones that I'd be acquainted with enough, that I wouldn't feel awkward. None of them I was even on speaking terms with, so I felt quite left out. But then again, at the end of the day, it's not like it really mattered, since Chanyeol would do all the talking, and I'd just stand by his side and nod my head. I wouldn't be doing any of the socializing.
And with having the photographers inside, this time I would have to be extra cautious to not let my real emotions show. Not even the smallest roll of the eyes, sigh or God forgive, an emotion other than utter joy crossing my face.
Yeah, tonight certainly wouldn't be easy, but I was used to this. Surely, I would be okay.
Once he was satisfied with looking around, feeling all big and mighty, he tugged on my hand and made his way to a small group of middle-aged men, with me in tow. However, along our way there we were stopped a few times and people complimented my dress, which made my mood a little less gloomy. Of course, each time that happened though, Chanyeol pulled me closer as if to let everyone know that the woman in the beautiful dress was entirely his possession. But aside from him pulling that stunt each time, it felt nice being praised. It wasn't something I received often, so it was like a breath of fresh air, boosting my confidence a little.
But unfortunately, the time came, and Chanyeol was shaking hands with the other men. Usually, I wouldn't be thankful for his hands on my body, but right now it made everything a little less awkward. I wasn't sure whether I should just say something and introduce myself, seeing as Chanyeol hasn't done so himself, and instead laughed at something he said, or just opt for staying quiet. Knowing full well which of the two my husband would prefer, I joined in on his laughter with a well-practiced smile.
That seemed to remind him of my existence, and as his laughter died down, he extended his free hand towards me, "Gentlemen, this is my wife, Chaeyoung," and grabbed a glass of champagne that was passed around.
"Chaeyoung, dear, this is Bill-" he started introducing me to the men, but I couldn't care less and therefore drowned out the names that all sounded awfully similar, and instead smiled as if I cared.
"Nice to meet you," I said once Chanyeol went quiet, that I took as a cue for me to speak, and bowed my head.
"No need to bow," one man laughed, "you're not in Korea here,"
"You trained her well," one of the older men, that was visibly starting to bald, remarked with a chuckle as if he was funny and I was a dog. I was disgusted already and was glad I didn't bother listening to the names that would only take up a part in my mind. But then again, he wasn't entirely wrong, as I really was just like his dog, kept on a leash.
No matter how offensive I found the remark though, I couldn't say anything and so I chuckled along with him. But I was sure it didn't sound exactly genuine, no matter how hard I tried. I was just glad the pleasantries were over because that meant they'd leave me alone and only talk to Chanyeol. At times like these, I was glad I lived in his shadow because I'd rather be concealed and treated as if I wasn't present, rather than talk to some egotistical men who thought they were better than everyone else. Especially women who they considered to be mere slaves.
"I know right, so obedient," Chanyeol grinned and forcefully squeezed my hip, and I had to hold back a hiss.
After that, they engaged in a boring conversation that I didn't bother listening to, as I let my eyes roam the place instead and wished I could sit at one of the tables rather than stand here. Wishing I could be literally anywhere else but here. Or that I could at least grab a glass of champagne, or ideally, the entire bottle if this was just the first conversation of many. But of course, I could not do that.
"Tell me, Cheyong," a name sounding similar to mine grabbed my attention since I knew they were just trying to pronounce my name or forgot it, but it sounded close to Korean and aside from Chanyeol there weren't any Koreans among us six, "what is it like to be the wife of one of the most powerful men in our time?" one of the men grinned, as he sipped on his champagne.
At first, I was surprised I was addressed again, and honestly wished I wasn't with a stupid question like that. Like, what was I supposed to say to that? What was it like? Hell? Pure torture?
"It truly blows my mind every time I wake up beside him," I said instead and looked at Chanyeol dreamily.
Roaring laughter came from all the men before he spoke again, "Man, Chan! You've got her completely smitten. How many bags did it take?"
At this point I wanted to punch the balding asshole square in his face, but refrained and bit the inside of my cheek, giggling instead, "A beautiful girl like that must love spending your money, no? I mean, it's not bad since she's your wife, but the prettier they are, the more of your hard-earned money they spend. Aren't I right?" another one joined in and I felt my blood boil in my veins, as I wanted nothing more than say something back. But all I could do was laugh along and hide my irritation.
"Yeah, it's not just you," the third man looked at me, "all women are like that, wasting their husbands' money for clothes and whatnot. It's okay though, we enjoy taking care of you girls. Don't we guys?" the other agreed loudly and Chanyeol laughed along, of course not taking my side or reprimanding them for being rude.
"Chaeyoung," another one addressed me, and I had to repress myself from sighing and rolling my eyes because despite getting my name right, I knew the next question would be idiotic, "Are you a good cook? Chan here looks a bit skinny, doesn't he? Don't forget to take care of your man for treating you so well, yeah? We wouldn't want him getting sick, especially now that he's dominating the world. You must be so proud of his accomplishments."
Of course, that's all a woman was good for, right? Cooking, cleaning, and taking care of their husbands, while they did nothing. Oh, and spend their money while they did nothing to chip in.
"I don't cook-"
"Then how do you pay him back for all the spoiling? Oh, I know-" the balding jerk cut me off and everyone laughed, everyone but me. I balled my hand in a fist and focused all my attention on not becoming violent.
"We have a cook for that," I continued while they stopped laughing, "Chanyeol just doesn't eat that much because he's so busy all the time. I always tell him to eat more, but he's such a workaholic. And of course I'm proud, infinitely so. I'm truly lucky to have him," aside from when I was at the altar, I don't think I lied that much in just a few sentences.
"I see," he chuckled again as if what I said was somehow amusing to him, and this time I was very close to showing my annoyance. I wasn't about to ruin all the years of pretending because of these assholes, who thought I was a mere gold digger and should be grateful for Chanyeol's attention and attraction towards me. As if that was something to be grateful for and not feel like wanting to throw myself off a bridge.
"If you had one wish, Chan, what would it be? Be honest," the bald guy asked the man whose arm was still around my waist, holding me close as if I had a choice to go off, and I was glad the attention was diverted away from me.
"I'd have to kill you if I told you that," Chanyeol smirked and I furrowed my brows in confusion, not quite understanding his answer.
I thought it was easy, and I was convinced I already knew the answer. In my mind, there were only two possibilities. One was, "I don't need wishes, I'm one of the most powerful men in the world. If I want something, I have the means to." or something narcissistic and self-centered like that.
And the other one was probably something repulsively cheesy like, "Making this girl right here my wife sooner," with one of those disgusting grins that I wanted to wipe away with a punch. Because that's exactly what he did - he made me. No one asked me, asked if it was what I truly wanted or if I wouldn't have any regrets if I said yes at the altar.
Sure, it was my parents' last wish; it was the least I could do. But of course, I was reluctant after spending just a few days in his company to get to know each other before tying the knot. I was hesitant and didn't want to do it. In all honesty, I wanted to back out and just say, "Fuck it," but I couldn't. Not when I knew how guilty I'd feel, but most of all, because I belonged to him, to his family, from the moment I smiled and introduced myself. That was the moment I lost power over myself and walked into the lion's den.
Whenever I'd express my hesitancy to the then nice Chanyeol - which I soon discovered was just a pretend, he would guilt trip me into thinking that just having those thoughts alone was disrespectful to my deceased parents. That it made me an ungrateful daughter, one that they wouldn't be proud of. One they would be disgusted by, especially because I was with a woman before.
But he, being the amazing and understanding man he was, was willing to love me despite that.
That was his strategy, making me feel so disgusted and ashamed of myself, that my last resort would be to jump into his arms. I knew I wouldn't love him, that I'd never reciprocate his feelings, but I thought maybe we could at least be friends. That he could be my ally. If only I knew he was all kinds of fucked up, just like the rest of his family. If only I knew, I'd end up being his prisoner, locked away in a castle guarded by a dragon with no chance of escape.
I concluded he just must've been joking and waited for him to elaborate and give his friends an actual answer, but he stayed silent. At first, I thought it was because of the roaring laughter of the men, and that he was just waiting for their laughter to die down. However, once it did, he remained quiet.
The others seemed to understand they wouldn't be getting a different answer and instead gave their own shallow answers that only made my disgust for them heighten. With every word leaving their mouth, the need to throw up became much greater. Especially when the nearly bald men said, "Oh I sure have a wish, alright?" and looked me up and down, licking his lips as if I was a piece of meat and my husband wasn't literally by my side.
Surprisingly, seeing how possessive and jealous Chanyeol got, he said nothing, but I could sense he grew tense by how his hold on me changed, becoming tighter and more harsh - making me want to squirm. It was becoming painful too, and I hoped he would either tell that perverted jerk off or would loosen his hold because if he didn't, a bruise would be sure to follow.
Baldie seemed to get the memo, as he quickly raised his hands up in surrender and laughed, "Joking Chan, just joking. Though you have to admit, you've got yourself a beautiful woman. Who wouldn't want that? She's sure not a fat, old, good for nothing like my wife there," he pointed towards a nice looking older lady, who was taking a glass of champagne from a tray passed around by the server. And if I wasn't completely and utterly disgusted by him before, I sure as hell was now.
Was she forced to marry him, or something? Because I couldn't imagine why on earth would she want to marry someone like him. Not only was he rude and disrespectful, but he wasn't exactly a handsome lad either. Funny, he was calling her fat and old, when he was the one with barely any hair left on his balding scalp.
And with his comment, my disgust for the rest of our companion - including Chanyeol, grew as they laughed. As if what left his mouth wasn't disrespectful on all fronts, absolutely rude and disgusting. Not once have I felt this disturbed, and my jaw clenched as they continued laughing as if it was actually funny.
How could they? He surely wasn't someone important who could end their careers, at least not Chanyeol's. And even if, how could you lower yourself to such extent? But their laughs looked and sounded anything but ingenuine.
"What about you, Cheyong?" to my surprise, I was addressed again, this time by the man who didn't seem to be able to pronounce my name, tried too hard to get it right, or simply, didn't try at all, "What would you wish for?"
"To get married to Chan sooner, of course," I replied immediately with not a second of hesitation, "I had to wait for far too long," I whined.
Of course, they caught just how fast my answer was and found it endlessly amusing as they laughed as if I just told them the funniest joke.
The truth was, that wasn't my answer. Of course, it wasn't. It wasn't the first thought, or the second or the third, that entered my mind. I'd wish for anything before, I'd wish for anything that would have something to do with him. But that was the answer I gave for everything. Him.
That was what I always wanted, what I would always want. Chanyeol. The love of my life. My husband and my soulmate.
No one could see the way my heart bled because the first thing that entered my mind was her. The person I was forced to leave behind with no explanation. The girl who has grown into a woman without me. The one I never let myself think of anymore because I had to move on. There was no use in reminiscing and being miserable because of something I had no power over. Something I couldn't change.
And I was succeeding too. I no longer felt the need to sleep in the UCLA hoodie that once used to belong to her. I no longer needed to feel her close. I was okay; I made myself believe I was. Because I couldn't afford not to be okay, not more than I was, anyway.
I was no longer in her life, and it was for the better this way. She was happier. This was the way it should be, and I should let go. If I was able to walk out and not look back, I didn't deserve to miss her or to think of her.
Here I thought that over the course of three years, I forgot. That I moved on and was done with the things of my past stabbing me in my barely beating heart. But just one simple question and I came tumbling down.
Because if you asked me the day after I left, a month or a year, no matter how long has passed, no matter how much I tried to forget, I never could. My answer would always remain the same.
You. It will always be you, I wish for.
...
"Now for the reason, we're all here. The youngest CEO to take the world by a storm, the one who has not only become the most successful man in Korea but is about to dominate the world with the expansion of the PCYs to the US!" a man spoke into the microphone, the sound resounding through the whole hall and echoing off of the walls, "Please welcome the man of the hour, Park Chanyeol!"
One would think we were at a rock concert, with how loud the clapping was, and I had to repress the need to cover my ears because of just how intense the sound was. People really viewed him as some God, someone who they looked up to and who was to be celebrated. No wonder the man's ego was higher than Burj Khalifa.
In a sense, I understood. He really was extremely successful at a very young age, and I guess that was something worth celebrating and admiring. But I knew the truth behind the brilliant success of Park Chanyeol. I knew the secrets behind how he came to be, how he hasn't moved a finger his whole life, and all this was practically given to him on a silver platter.
Sure, the empire his ancestors have built grew during his leadership, but only because his parents stepped down shortly before it skyrocketed. If you asked me, I'd say they were the ones who did most of the job. Chanyeol only collected the claps and gasps of his admirers, along with the titles like the youngest, most successful CEO in the world right now and more.
However, as his spouse, I was obliged to clap, and show just how proud of him I was, and therefore I made sure to put on my brightest smile when I clapped so loudly, my palms hurt from the impact.
"Thank you, thank you," Chanyeol spoke as he reached the microphone situated in the middle of the stage, and took his stance, facing all his guests, "this is really...whoa. I'm speechless honestly," he chuckled and I could tell it wasn't genuine because he was never speechless. If anything, he'd complain about how come this didn't happen sooner.
Once again, the crowd, not knowing him the way I did, chuckled along with him at how "modest" he was being about the whole thing. I couldn't blame them though, if I didn't know any better I would've been fooled too. He was a pretty good actor, and he really did appear shocked to be finally standing there, after so much work he put in.
"All this just feels so surreal. I mean, it was just now that I was a kid fooling around and suddenly I am named the CEO of PCYs. If you told me that in three years, I would be standing here, having this huge building to myself and announcing that Korea was no longer the only country to hear of me, I would think you were crazy. Who would've thought, right? I certainly wouldn't have. Not once did I imagine that the empire would expand all the way into the US. I mean, c'mon, that does sound crazy, right?" he laughed in disbelief as if he was truly not believing the fact he was here and the crowd, of course, ate it up.
"I remember looking at the skyscrapers whenever I came here with my parents for a vacation, or when they took me along on their business trips and being so impressed. I thought wow, these people must have worked so hard to have all this, to run things smoothly in a huge city like this. Back then, I had no idea how hard it could be. That it was never smooth, but that I'd have to act like it was and work twice as hard to make it work. Because no one ever shows the hard part of it, rather than the success and the graphs with stock rises.
But now, after so much work, me and all my employees put in, we're here! Not only have we dominated all across Asia and Europe, but we're coming for the US as well. It still feels so unbelievable, like this is all a dream I'm going to wake up from.
So with that said, I want to thank all the people without whom none of this would be possible. Thank you to my business partners and friends; Bill, James, Mark, and David who have kindly offered their help with getting this whole thing to work," he addressed the four disgusting men I had the "honor" of meeting earlier.
"Thank you to all my employees, who worked super hard for the company to thrive and in the end being the ones responsible for its success,"
At that, I couldn't help but chuckle. If he was so grateful to the people who worked for him, where were they? There wasn't a single one of his employees, not even his most trusted ones, here. Because to him, all they were was scum. Lowlifes only existing to listen to the orders, he barked out, as if the whole world was down at his feet.
It wasn't exactly a rare occurrence for him to shout in the faces of his employees, of firing them for the smallest, most trivial reasons. He was a jerk and without having to be told so, you could tell by the stares he was rewarded with whenever he wasn't looking. Maybe except his assistant, who looked like she was on the verge of an orgasm from breathing the same air as him, alone. But of course, despite Chanyeol not exactly hating her, not even she was attending, and instead was taking care of things back in Korea.
"And lastly, I want to thank my lovely wife, Park Chaeyoung, without whose support, none of this would be possible,"
Huh, who's tha-... Oh wait, that's me. With the sudden realization, he actually thanked me, even though it was just for show because he thanked no one, especially me, I made my way towards the stage.
Like the gentleman he pretended to be, he walked from the center of the stage to the steps, where he extended his hand for me to take, as I walked up.
"Hey, honey," he said, but not before we were close to the microphone for everyone to hear, and kissed my cheek sweetly. The guests and photographers, once again eating this shit show up, swooned and awed at how "sweet" my husband was being and I forced my smile to become even wider, so we would look good at the pictures that would surely make it into all the magazines.
Turning back to the audience, he spoke again, "In all honesty, it is her that we should be celebrating. Because have it not been for Chaeyoung's undying love and encouragement, I don't think I'd be standing here now. It's true what they say. Behind every successful man, there is a woman. Thank you, my love, for sticking by me through my moods, when things get hard, for staying by my side even when I wasn't being the best husband to you. I promise from now on I'll be better for us, and for our child,"
With the last word he's spoken, the hall grew quiet, and I was sure you could have heard a pin drop. Even the sound of the shutter of the cameras has died down, as everyone processed his words. We were quiet about my pregnancy for the entire time we've known of it, and Chanyeol decided he'd announce it here where he'd have an audience. He didn't say that, but I knew. I was surprised by his proposal though, thinking he wouldn't want anything to take any spotlight away from the fact PCYs was expanding. I mean, we both knew that our child would be the headline now.
Truth be told, he surprised even me. I knew it was coming, yet it took me by surprise. But I remembered to stay composed and smile as if my life depended on it. Which, essentially, it did. So I put on a loving smile and looked up at the father to be, of my child, who was looking down at me with a loving smile of his own.
We haven't known for long. I was only a few weeks in, and we found out just about four days ago, so it was still new to us too. However, Chanyeol was absolutely thrilled to hear that he would be having a child. I don't think I've ever seen him that happy, and for that one night, he treated me like a queen. He was actually nice the way he used to before we got married. When he pretended he was perfect and when I was naïve enough to believe him.
I, on the other hand, wasn't as welcoming of the child that was now growing inside me. I never wanted to bring a life into a world where its parents wouldn't feel love for each other. I didn't want to have a kid, that would see firsthand how a woman can be treated by a man. Where it would see me weak under Chanyeol's hands. Because no matter how much I'd love it, despite it being Chanyeol's, or how much he would, our child would never be happy.
And of course, I never wanted to have a child with him. With my tormentor and my prison guard. I didn't deserve it and neither did the child, but here we were. There wasn't much I could do if he wanted to have sex without protection. The only thing I could do was take it and cry silently when he wasn't looking. Because I couldn't even take the morning-after pill. Neither did I have a say in whether I was ready or whether I wanted it. We never talked about it.
One day he just suddenly decided that it was something he wanted and that was that. End of the nonexistent discussion.
"We're going to make a child, Chaeyoung," his words resonated in my head, as I was looking at his face, nurturing nothing but hatred for the man standing tall next to me.
After the initial shock was gone, gasps filled the room. "Oh my God", and congratulations joined by the shutter clicks that felt far more aggressive this time around. Not even during Chanyeol's speech was it this loud, and I quickly became uncomfortable, resisting the urge to squirm.
Wasn't this unhealthy for a pregnant woman? I should steer away from stressful situations, shouldn't I? But of course, Chanyeol couldn't care less about how I felt and instead pulled me closer as he grinned widely and posed for the cameras.
Not more than a minute later, that felt like hours to me, Chanyeol stepped closer to the microphone again and when people realized he wanted to speak, they've grown silent almost instantly.
And that's when I noticed.
That's when my breath hitched in my throat and I felt as if my eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, as I was staring ahead. My heart rate increased, I felt myself starting to sweat and everything else seemed to disappear.
I couldn't hear Chanyeol's voice as he spoke. I couldn't care less about the camera flashes or the looks of adoration coming from the guests. Hell, everyone in the room could be swallowed up by the ground beneath their feet, and I doubted I would notice.
This wasn't happening, this wasn't real. It couldn't be.
Because as soon as he stepped closer to the microphone, the photographers put their cameras down for a moment that allowed me to see their faces. And without missing a beat, just like all those years ago, the first one I was drawn to among the sea of faces, was yours.
And just how it did back then, it caused my world to stop turning.
As soon as my eyes met the familiar brown orbs I've grown to love more than I could ever hope to love anything else, everything else ceased to exist. At that moment, it was just me and you, even in the crowded room. It was you that I saw, and everyone else became a blur.
Black hair, different from the way I remembered it, shining under the lights of the room, enticing me with its rich color and softness even visible to the eye. It was let loose, not in a ponytail or a bun, but straight, falling past your shoulders, covering the sides of your face.
Eyes that no longer sparkled as they met mine. Even from the distance between us, I could see it lacked emotion and happiness. They were like the eyes of a stranger, that we ultimately became, but despite that, I wouldn't waste a second to get drowned in their depth. However, this time, I couldn't read them. I couldn't see into your heart because I was no longer welcome.
There were no longer stars in your eyes as I was used to, and I knew had it not been for the situation I was in, I would crumble down to my feet because I could no longer recognize you, and I knew it was all my fault.
It all came rushing back, all the memories I tried so hard to bury. They all came crashing down, suffocating me the second your gaze focused on mine, and I no longer saw the girl who I loved with my whole heart looking back at me.
One look at you, and I was reminded of the night everything changed.
Of the night I lost you, Lisa.