You sat on the floor, rocking back and forth as the woman’s words resounded in your head. You worked as a part time model but you recently had found out you were pregnant and that had made you reevaluate your career. You had one more campaign you had promised to shoot so you decided to honor your contract and do it before taking a hiatus.

            Already two months along, you’ve gone up a size, much to the chagrin of your stylist. The photographer was, ironically, a heavy set woman twice your size and she threw a fit once she head.    

            “Models need to remain trim in order to further advertise our products in a better fashion. Do you think you are stylish like that American model who was able to carry a pregnancy and still look fabulous? Safe !” she had roared. “If you had practiced safe you would not be in this predicament! You are bloated, fat and disgusting. My prayers to your husband because he has to look at you.”

            You tried to be strong but she was too much. At most you’ve only gained ten pounds but already her words were making you ridiculously self-conscious. You had left the studio, still numb from her verbal attack.

            The moment you got home, you stared at your reflection in the mirror and tried to in your stomach. You saw pouches of fat where you had previously overlooked.

            Jongup came home and found you sitting there on the floor. He was concerned because he knew you should still be at work. He walked over to you.

            “Hey, why are you home?”

            You tried not to cry but it was too much. “My prayers to your husband because he has to look at you,” rang in your ears and you covered your face so he wouldn’t have to look at you. Jongup shook you gently, still lost.

            “Babe, are you okay? Look at me.”

            You cried and shook your head. “I’m too f-fat and ug-ugly. You shouldn’t hurt your e-eyes looking at me.”

            You heard him get down on the floor next to you and suddenly you were teenagers again, when he first say by you to comfort you about a bad test score. His warm hands wrapped around you and you shuddered. He was touching your fat.

            “Don’t touch me. I know you’re disgusted by how much I’ve changed. I’m hideous.” You sobbed.

            When he spoke next, his tone was uncharacteristically angry. “Who the heck was feeding you those lies?”

            “I went up a size and the photographer said I was too f-fat to model. She also said she felt so-sorry for you because you have to s-see my face.”

            The arms around you tightened. “And why on earth would you, my precious angel, believe her?”

            ‘”Because it’s true!” you wailed. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I know I’m a fat toad.”

            Jongup changed the topic abruptly. “Is this the big photographer who had to use the bathroom every five seconds during your other shoot?” You nodded and he got up. The absence of his comfort made you feel even more unwanted. “I’ll be right back.”

Even though he closed the door, you could still hear him shout angrily, “How dare you insult my wife? She wanted to honor her contract with your produce and went to do her job and you not only call her unattractive, you have the audacity to insinuate that I think so as well?”

You trembled. It was rare to see your normally happy-go-lucky husband this infuriated. “No, I will not calm myself. She’s in a delicate condition and you were inconsiderate enough to twist the situation and tell her lies. I will speak with your boss and ensure you never have a job as head photographer again.” There was a pause and you heard him slam something. “Damn right I’m threatening you! You insulted my wife first. I will gladly take legal action. Have a good day.”

You were grateful that Jongup stood up for you but had a feeling that it was purely for the sake of his duties as a husband. He walked back n and smiled at you. “She won’t bother you again. You can go back tomorrow.”

You shook your head. “She’s right. I’m far too big to model now. You shouldn’t have bothered.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and picked you up bridal style. He took you downstairs and placed you in the middle of the living room. He turned off the lights, leaving only the glowing lights of the chandelier and he turned up the stereo. Strains of violin came through the speakers.

He took you in his arms and swayed you gently from side to side. He gave you his moon shaped eye smile and twirled you.

“Do you remember when we danced at prom? It took me forever to work up the courage to ask you. Then there was the first dance of our wedding. Our honeymoon was filled with dancing too,” he reminisced and led you onto the balcony. You were starting to calm down, looking at him.

“Do you honestly think that one pregnancy is going to make you lose the beauty I love? Is it really believable that women don’t gain a little weight when they’re carrying a baby? I don’t care.” He swung you in the air and you clung to him, still in the limbo between sadness and happiness.

“You’re beautiful just the way you are,’” he sand and you bit back a smile.

Later, when he sat you down to dinner, you looked at him shyly as he twirled the noodles onto the fork to feed you. He saw you watching and grinned cheesily. “Time to feed the baby!”

            You opened your mouth and he teased you, pulling the fork back. You puffed out your cheeks and he spoke in a serious manner. “Promise me you won’t do this to me again. I don’t want to ever hear you doubt yourself. The mother of my child is the most gorgeous person in the world.

You blushed and Jongup happily gave you the food. After dinner, he led you to the living room before going back into the kitchen. He put on a brightly colored apron and walked out with a huge cake. You raised an eyebrow.

“I wanted to surprise you. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our anniversary?” He pretended to look offended. “Just because we’re having a baby does not mean you can forget we were married for two years. I even baked!” 

There seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding over the things I write, and how I write them. Sooo let me clear things up :D

A lot of you read the (super fail) chapter 26 and you asked, "Aren't you a Daewon? Why did Youngjae win?"

The answer to that, my lovelies, is because the ending was specifically requested to be Youngjae and so that's what I did.

I also am aware that there will be/ has been a lot of cliched storylines.

I will only say this once, simply because I have an irrational fear of people criticizing me on something I cannot control.

THESE ARE REQUESTS.

To clear up, or to explain myself, I will now start to state whether the plot was requested (which means I take no responsibility for cliched stories) or whether just the genre was stated. If I came up with the plot myself, then it's up to you to judge whether they are unoriginal or not. For example, this chapter was a plot requested by waffyeols. 

The only thing from now on I will take responsibility for is bad writing. And an example of poor writing is exhibited in Chapter 26. I apologize for that chapter but I had a really bad and long day. 

And on that note,

LET'S WELCOME MUSICCHIBI.

The pressure's gone up when greatness is in town :) I want to thank my unni for making the shop layout so beautiful as well as taking her time to read and comment. Not a lot of well-known authors on AFF do this, and I'm super grateful to her for everything.