The Us

You are cordially invited to celebrate

The wedding of

Kim Jongin (김종인)

and

Park Haeri (박해리)

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

( 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 )

Haeri’s P.O.V

I opened my eyes as the blinding sunshine was the first to welcome me to another meaningless morning. I groaned and blinked my eyes for couples of time, getting used to the amount of brightness. I  felt a pang embodied on my head after I sat straight.

What’s the date today?

I bitterly chuckled. The date won’t matter, anyways. Cause dates were only a bitter reminder for the fact that I loathed the most.

It’s been a week since I am officially a married woman.

The small clock on my nightstand, I quickly overlook the pain and hopped off my bed. I descended down the stair of the house I’ve been living in for nearly a week in a hurry, shuffling my feet to the kitchen.I tied my hair into a messy bun before gathering the ingredient I needed for a spicy bibimbap and a chicken soup for breakfast. After tying the knot of  pink hello kitty apron, I quickly started the cooking.

After a good half hour, I served the bowls on the table. Just right in time the man these foods were dedicated for walked down from the stairs to the direction of the living room.

“Good morning.” I simply greeted the tanned man in a uniform - now the school had officialized uniforms for Mondays and Fridays. Same as the days before, it met with no reply. He zoomed straightly foor the door, and not only he abandoned my greeting, but also the food I made for his breakfast. He spared me not a least bit of attention, like I was not the girl he was married to. Like I was not even inside his memory. Like I was invisible to his eyes.

I apprehended it pretty well that love wasn’t even the start of our marriage. But one thing that I wanted to set straight was that maybe,  we can be something that could live together well. Living well maybe was an overstatement, right? Maybe not making it difficult for another person would be a sufficient statement.

But Kai was definitely making it hard for me.

The sound of the slammed door was heard and I threw my body on the dining chair, leaning my head on the table. I looked over the food that I made with pity, cursing Kai and the rotten manner of his.

Would it be better if I had chosen Luhan from the beginning?

No. Let’s not go there, Haeri. I warned myself not to pass those border. If Luhan were to do this things, it would hurt you million times more. Nothing would ever change. Kai is your fate.

My memory winded up in a flashback.

I was seated in front of the dresser in my bride’s room, my eyes was focused on one thing, which was the long needle of the clock. Less than an hour I am going to marry a man that I had no feeling whatsoever to.

I gulped my saliva, feeling my lips tremble of the event that just occured. I diverted my eyes to the reflection on the mirror. A pale girl with a fake blush, wrapped on  a huge puff of wedding dress was staring back at me.

God, what have I done?

It felt wrong. Super wrong.

A soft knock behind the door took me away from the busy thoughts that drowned me inside. I harriedly looked back, only to find an old man with a huge, fascinated and proud smile lingering on his face. I forced myself to display a sincere smile, but somehow those efforts resulted out a thin grin.

“Baby, you look so pretty.” He complimented taking my hand inside his wrinkly hand. , I can't do this. “Jongin is so lucky to have you as a wife. With that gown your mother wore when we got married, you look even more like her.”

I bitterly chuckled, trying to shoo away the sadness inside of my chest. No way I was going to reveal that the marriage was the least thing I want to happen then or forever. Nor the fact that the guy named Kim Jongin - whom would be rightfully my future husband in less than an hour - might had me as the last person he wanted to see on earth.

“Speaking of whom, have you met your future husband?” He asked, taking a seat on the sofa, gesturing for me to sit beside him. I obeyed his order carefully, trying not to wrinkle the dress that once belonged to my mother.

“Not yet, appa.”  The old man answered with a chuckle.

“Good. Cause they say it would bring bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.” He smiled at me dreamily that it hurt me to only stare back. It saddened me to imagine that the marriage he wanted his daughter to have was not even close to the reality. He thought that Kai and I had an interest toward each other - or even at some extent, love each other - when the fact that was really far across the expectation.

The whole marriage thing was a fraud. Other then choosing my late mother’s wedding gown to be the one I would wear for the ceremony, it was all planned by the best  wedding planner in the city. There was only a week and half preparation, because the merge of my father and Mr.Kim’s companies need to be done soon. I was more than glad that It was all planned without our conscent, simply because I didn’t need another cliche I-need-your-opinion things, more to do those useless task by myself cause I knew Kai won't let it touched his hands.

Different from Luhan and Soojung’s marriage that will be hold in two weeks, both of them seemed to be planning it well. I could vividly imagine the huge smile and affection of them, the asking for another opinion, the arguing over the theme color which ended up with a peace-making kisses, the compliments while dress fitting before embracing each other lovingly.

Ouch. That hurts like .

“No matter what, be a good wife, huh?” He smiled and soothe my back,dispering my wild imagination. I bit my lips, while guilt started to wear my heart like a sock.

“Say good morning to your husband every morning. Made a delicious breakfast for him. Endure him when thing gets hard and follow him wherever he goes. Be there for the ups and downs. Get it, pretty girl?” He cooed, followed with one, rare tear fell down his cheek. I couldn’t bear the urge to let out ugly sobs.

“Appa, don’t make me cry. I don’t need the beautician to scold me for ruining the make up.” I cried out in sorrow. He chuckled and quickly swept the tear off my cheek.

“Okay. I’ll leave now before I ruin everything.” He joked and stood up, walking out of the door. But before he disappeared on the other side of the door, he spared me a glance and smiled with pride and sincerity.

“You’ll be a great mother and wife, my baby girl..”

End of flashback...