Warning: death of fictional character (No, it's not WheeByul)...

 

 

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The ground softened beneath her feet; her firm supporters have sunk not that deeply but she can feel it – slowly being pulled down by the mother nature below her, engulfing her like a loving parent would to a young, learning child – how welcomed she felt, how familiar, warm and most importantly, almost too eager to be forgotten behind, almost too easy to be ignored, almost too easy to be underestimated by its humongous strength.

The sky was bright again, as it had often been seen for the couples of weeks straight – how the stars cheered as if they would intentionally do whenever she lifted her head up, admiring the way how soothing the dark roof of the earth was, accompanied by the millions of sparkling stars lining along the blanket of the dull clouds – and if she doesn’t know better, she might as well thought that the beautiful shining foreign planets were actually embedded themselves to the fluffy cotton candy way up high.

She smiled fondly,

As she suddenly remembers the picture of the night sky once, when her husband quite foolishly stood under the intimidating sky of the night, in the middle of the road right in front of her house – talking with her strict father, begging to see her, to meet her, to just hear her voice because he said he has missed her so badly.

Just because he has missed her.

Her eyes blurred with the unnecessary unshed tears, knowing very well how very gentle and sweet her husband really were. The love they shared was so precious, strong, and non-regretfully so different than anybody else’s.

She misses him, so much so, so much dearly.

The day he left the earth, this temporary heaven of theirs, was the day he took all the lights that she has known away – that she was shown by the love of her life, they were gone in a second.

She felt numb. There was none that was up against her head, knocking against her mind, testing her sanity, pushing her until she reached the edges of the mountains.

All she knew was, he was gone.

Like a wind would; comforted her gloomy life with colours, with happiness, with memories – and long gone were those memories of her husband that he has always cherished, even until today.

He was the one who brought her so much love, so much light into her story; yet somehow, he was the one who took them away, cruelly, ghastly, without warning, leaving her and their only son behind.

She sighed shakily, seeing his face again oh so much clear in her eyes and heart is too painful for even a mother of two to bear; the pain of knowing that she will never, ever again able to feel the soft touch of his, hearing the gentle playfulness of his voice, the short, messy coal dark hair of his that she habitually thinks about more than ever, running her fingers through them, so soft it made along her skin as she inhaled and shook her head slightly, swaying her light hair from side to side as they graced her face with fickleness, feeling confused with her own self as she feels relieved, almost, to be able to still reliving his amazing short time with her but at the same time, wanting so dearly to crumble down onto the hard ground beneath her, away from the much harsher reality she’s facing.

A life without him.

She found herself wish onto the calm night, she wishes no one but no one at all, to be punished in such heart breaking ways.

She misses him but she knows – how unhappy she would make him to be if she chose to miserable instead of…. Well, living.

She dropped her gaze to her pair of dirty hands, rough with experience, wrinkled with age, and they moved with knowledge.

Though the full moon tonight offered more than enough light to guide her through the wide garden, however, the lights from the outdoor lamps, lining themselves along the tiny rocky cemented path that is properly built from the mansion – allowing, solely herself to walk off from her house to a secret garden without getting worries of muds or even crushable dusts getting on into her shoes.

Secret garden.

A healing place - is what her eldest daughter used to call it.

It really is, as the area is almost as big enough to fit one more house on, but instead now, being grown repeatedly with handsome flowers, a bunch of tall trees that offer shades on top of her head during daytime, and as well as with a few of her favourite medicinal and pleasantly smelling plants.

Farming and grooming such beauty does took a wider effort on her behalf, even with the help of her maids – but they did it nevertheless, as she promised herself wanting to be escorted with such heart-warming place, and knowing very well that the gigantic mansion near them would mean nothing without the garden itself, as it brings not just beauty but somehow, life itself surrounding the seemingly lonely aura of her home.

Her house, her choice to have the traditional Japanese themed house, was probably the proudest moment of her decisions, ever. With the white walls eerily painted themselves across the strong protectors of the house, as the black roof that constantly contrasting the splendour of the body. It was nothing much really, other than the spacious one storey home of hers and how the interior was rather styled with much modern furniture, highly comparable to the exterior. But she likes it. The house is big, but simple to look at. It’s probably why she likes the garden so much and the amount of tall trees that she has demanded to be planted all around the building, wanting to somehow make it a home – as quiet or unbothered as it may seem from far.

The garden is her escape place after all, and she smiled lightly as she continued to work carefully with the stunning bunch of rose in front of her.

Her son won’t be home anyways – being the teenager one in the family does take its toll, hoping that his statement for “studying with friends” tonight was a legit one.

She is not as young as before; her generation was a bit different than her son in the end, fully trusting his instinct, but also happen to cleverly know that he is, in fact still a teenager.

What teenager doesn’t lie anyways? Especially those along his age.

As she hummed quietly the ‘Delilah’ song under her breath, she failed to hear the clicking heels – though undoubtedly confident strides, but somehow her steps were cautious, carefully not wanting to unnecessary shook the oblivious woman sitting across the green bed of the garden, being one with the natural habitat of hers, or so to say.

The person cleared their throat delicately, immediately capturing the older one’s attentions as she swiftly turned around to look at her polite intruder.

Once she saw who it really was, the woman stood up before slowly making her way towards the other one, with a poised smiled already slowly crawling back to her beautiful face, her eyes clouded with instant recognition as she once again run them up against another soul now directly standing right in front of her.

“Well, look who we have here. Miss Moon.” She greeted, her earnest smile developed just a bird ago remained intact upon seeing the familiar face of the young woman.

Moonbyul bowed. “Good evening.” She greeted back as her eyes, once more, rose up to meet with the much fader eyes of the shorter woman.

“What do I owe you this wonderful visit?” She asked, quite curiously.

Though the young CEO’s presence is completely longed-for here at her home, but the sudden visit does make it a bit alarming and stomach twisting incidence to be showered at on her behalf, especially this hour of the day.

“I was just nearby and so I thought I should come and see you. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.” Her body visibly tensed again.

“No, of course not. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” The woman scoffed in disbelief – this girl sure does mature very much ever since she saw her last, and her heart heavy with regrets.

It is not a bad thing. She is a grown woman - even her words were carefully picked and laid out.

She smiled sympathetically as she walked past the taller woman, with the intention of making her way straight to her house visible to both pairs of eyes.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

The older woman continued her way forwards but upon not hearing the similar heels clicking against the pavements a few minutes ago – she stopped before once again, facing the confused looking girl who was apparently, still standing on the same spot from where she was; probably wondering whether the older woman’s nonchalant behaviour was an invitation or a mere dismissal of her presence.

“Moonbyul-ah.”

“Eoh?”

“Are you coming or not?” She pondered, assuring the younger one’s inner conflictions right away. “Let’s fill some food into that skinny body of yours.” Then she walked away, leaving Moonbyul to stand and smiling on her own.

“Okay… mom.” She replied timidly, a tiny response that has most likely gone deaf by the shorter woman.

I’m home.

--

 

“Good?”

“So good.”

“Eat with your mouth closed please.”

“Okay.”

Moonbyul continued to chug the enormous of food in front of her like a hyena but slowed down her munching without delay upon hearing the clear warning behind the woman’s low voice; though not enough to completely taken her by surprise but rather the silence that came by right after is what threatened her the most.

The same tone the older woman has always been using when she was young; when she was clueless, rebellious, thoughtless, vulnerable and careless. And now, receiving the similar attention of a mother after of how so many years being acted and resisted without the temptation and the comfort of the person sitting in front of her – triggered something somewhat intensely inside her.

She misses her; her nagging, her late night advice, her unconditional care and Moonbyul definitely misses being a child again – a daughter nonetheless, a girl with less of an attitude and leaning more towards her social and relationship problem.

Moonbyul smiled unconsciously, a contagious curve as it quickly spreads over the other woman’s sophisticated expression.

“What are you up to these days? We hardly see you nowadays, as a real person that is, rather than on the television.” Mrs Choi deliberated aloud, staring intently at her daughter, wanting to memorize every inches of her face, knowing so deeply that the younger woman’s visit would be limited to come by. She doesn’t know when will she ever see her again, truly, and even though her heart once again filled with heavy bricks that hardened by the minute of thinking the possibilities and the exact moment her daughter will step out of the door any second now – she knows how much important of a person Moonbyul really is, Mrs Choi is not blind nor is she thoughtless. Moonbyul is not just any smart girl and a blinding look, but she is in fact the pure flesh and blood of Madame Moon herself.

To some people, they are considered as royals, the untouchable; the power they held is bigger than anyone could ever imagine.

Losing Choi Moonbyul, however, was the greatest pain she had ever let in inside her rigid heart, other than seeing her husband died in her arms that is. Gaining Moon Byul Yi was much harder than she first expected it was; seeing the coldness rose from behind those dark eyes, the guarded posture replacing the before timid but warmth soul.

She is still her daughter, she knows that.

But still, she sometimes couldn’t help but feel like she has lost Moonbyul for the greater good.

Moonbyul gently laid down the chopsticks down before dabbing with the white handkerchief that she held so dearly on top of her laps, wiping away any unwanted wastes that might have lingered around her face possibly, with the amount of speed she had ordinarily used a few minutes ago.

“First of all…” Moonbyul crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes playfully as her head nodded towards the older woman’s clear direction, subtly asking permission to cut in instead of answering the exact question wondering freely in the air. “How is Minho?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I don’t see him anywhere?” the younger one puzzled with the absence of the much younger man.

“Exactly,” her mother pointed out evidently, getting an understanding mind in return. “That’s a teenage boy for you, they are never home.”

Moonbyul frowned profoundly, worried about the well-being of her little brother upon receiving the unconcerned response of her mother.

“Has he been skipping school?”

“No, his principle sends monthly report to me. I don’t think your brother was foolish enough to escape from me.”

Moonbyul chuckled, “He really should be studying instead of… well, not being at home basically. Where has he been anyway?”

Mrs Choi smirked with the turn of event, seeing an open opportunity to child, “Studying with friends, as he quoted awkwardly.”

The younger one scoffed and shook her head slightly in disbelief. Her little brother is the exact opposite side of her. He is a smart boy, that is no doubt but he does smell like an adventurer rather than a scholar, unlike his older sister.

Moonbyul wouldn’t be much of a shocker really if her brother decided to not go to school after his high school graduation coming up soon, tempting to travel the world as much as he could, experiencing things that Moonbyul wishes once to be the one who is able to.

A free soul, that he is.

“With a girl I presumed?”

“Perhaps. His flirting game is quite… how should I say this?” Mrs Choi tapped her chin a couple times and hummed mockingly under her breath, leaving Moonbyul hanging with her own curiosity and impatient self, “better than yours?” The older woman finished loudly with a teasing smile on her face and her eyes glistened with clear mischief.

“Mom!” Moonbyul whined with an irritated expression painted across her face. She feels insulted now, how dare she compares her A+ flirting skills with her own little brother? “I’m good at flirting, okay!”

Mrs Choi laughed loudly as the sound echoed distinctly around them, slapping hard on Moonbyul’s right knee below the dining table itself, receiving an adorable tiny ‘ouch’ from the sunlight haired woman sitting opposite of her.

“Okay, okay.” She soothed gently, pinching Moonbyul’s nose tenderly with her left hand. “My star is super pretty; she doesn’t need much flirting anyway to get a boy or a girl. Am I right?” She winked which ended up Moonbyul to cover both of her eyes embarrassment and denial in return.

Mrs Choi once again laughed full-heartedly upon seeing her daughter’s pure annoyed face. “Speaking of flirting, is there anyone in mind lately?” Mrs Choi smoothly changed the topic they shared while sipping her tea down, satisfied with the little amount of sweet she had poured inside her favourite drink.

Moonbyul froze, turning uncomfortable almost instantly which of course, went perceived like an eagle by the older woman.

“I…”

“Does she make you happy, Moonbyul-ah?”

Moonbyul shut closed . Of course she knows. It has been all over the news. Who are you to kidding that you’d be the first person to tell her?

“Mom…” Moonbyul stretched guiltily, finding the right excuse at the moment won’t probably end well for her, at once, admitting the idea really, that her mother is pissed beyond her control for not been told of such an important announcement; her marriage.

How could she forget?

She hasn’t really. Ever since her engagement with Wheein, Moonbyul has wanted more than to tell her mother immediately about her future wife; not to agitate the woman but wanting to be the first to break the news. But now? Moonbyul isn’t so sure anymore. Surely, her engagement with a certain black haired woman has been exposed to the world through the tiny screen of the media.

“Please, let me explain--”

“Byul-ah…”

“…yes?”

“Does the girl make you happy?” Mrs Choi asked again, this time with a worried smile plastered restlessly along.

“…very much so.”

“Then it’s fine for me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I am, you egg-head. I am your mother.”

Moonbyul flinched and gulped loudly, seeing the unwavering stare and the dangerous smile of the older woman playing distractedly upfront.

“But I’ll let you go for now.”

Moonbyul sighed out of relief, feeling the weights on her shoulders left. “For now,” she repeated convincingly.

“So this girl…” Mrs Choi started.

“Whee--” “Young Lady--” they both said at the same time causing the much shorter one to smirk widely.

“Wheein, right? First name basis already?”

Moonbyul blushed deeply, “Well, yes.”

“I hope she makes you truly happy, Byul-ah.”

“She really does.”

Mrs Choi went quiet – she didn’t expect Moonbyul to admit such an enormous thing so much quickly. Her playful smirk fell slowly.

“I know you have done so much for us, for Minho and I.”

“Mom, stop--”

“And I just wanted to say how much thankful I am to have you as my daughter.”

“Stop it.” Moonbyul stood and immediately went to the other side, tightly hugging the still sitting woman she closed her eyes, refusing to let the moment to allow her own mother to say much further than this.

This topic that she has never been really comfortable to talk about with her family; this topic that she has always hated whenever her mother trying to bring it up every single time. Seeing her mother thanking her again and again is all seems extremely wrong to her.

In all honesty, she is supposed to be the one thanking her for the love she has felt for the past years, for the warmth the Choi family has introduced her, freeing her from the dark, confusing and painful cage that she has been trapped in for almost her entire childhood, scarred her with memories that she always wishes to be easily forgotten one day or another.

Her mother is her saviour, not the other way around.

“You are one of us, always been and always will be.” Mrs Choi hugged her back, laying her head comfortably on Moonbyul’s chest, hearing the familiar heartbeat of her daughter, “Even if you weren’t born in this family.”

Moonbyul smiled upon hearing the soft reassuring, “thank you; that means a lot to me.”

“And that is why you need to tell me about this mysterious girl.” Mrs Choi knocked both of her palms against Moonbyul’s right arm that has been locked around her shoulders protectively, negligibly releasing the girl from the embrace itself, allowing the taller girl to once again occupying the abandoned seat she has left a few minutes back.

“She…” Moonbyul paused, out of her mind, staring blankly at the scratched surface of the wood table in front of her as her hands tangled nervously around each other on her lap, “…is the one.”

“It’s good now, isn’t it?” Mrs Choi encouraged, wanting so badly to erase the uncertain look of her only daughter’s pale face.

“Mom…”Moonbyul raised her eyes up and stared directly to her mother’s hardened pupils.

Moonbyul’s lips started to quiver in emotion as her eyes now filled with wet tears upon seeing the tender mind of her mother, begging to fall any seconds that somehow would shade the clear vision of the girl undoubtedly.

She took a deep breath as an almost unbearable silence crawled in between the two women; one with worries and the other with fear deep within.

Moonbyul clenched both her fists down to her side and her next words rang by along the two pairs of ears that shook both presences in the room with unexpected surprise.

Moonbyul opened hesitantly.

It was inevitable.

Moonbyul-ah, it was inevitable.

“I think I’m in love and that scares me terribly.”

 

--

-Flashback-

She heard knockings. Not much, just a few knocks coming after the others.

But that wasn’t what worries Mrs Choi the most but the fact that they were interrupted in such late hours of the evening is what the uneasiness came from.

If not from the two young maids that also came knocking through her door a few seconds ago and knowing very well that her security won’t just allow anyone to past through at 11 O’clock of the night; she would rather ignore the call.

What good news would they bear at such night times anyway? Nothing good most probably and that is what dreaded her the most.

Receiving bad news late at night is not a good idea right now, especially with her weakened body that just barely survived the activity she underwent the afternoon before. However, seeing the anxious faces of the maids concentrating closely on her response as she opened up her double doors to her bedroom – she changed her mind.

This was no ordinary guest but it was the one that shall never be ignored.

Moonbyul.

‘I hope she’s okay.’

Mrs Choi can feel her heart beats apprehensively with fear and nervousness, scared for her daughter’s well-being at the moment.

Her experience with her husband’s case once traumatized her badly - she hopes it is not something similar.

Why on earth would the Moon car be parked in front of her house right now?

‘Please, be okay Moonbyul-ah.’

She rushed down to the entrance, with only the peach coloured silky robe entitled around her body, protecting her from the cold possibilities of her mind and the reality, away from the coldness of the cruel dark world outside, blinding the earth away from the comforting sun for hours to come by.

Mrs Choi walked as fast as she could without running ungracefully, not even stopping as she once see the familiar face of another young maid waiting for her ahead.

The maid bowed almost immediately upon seeing the success of the house lady from her chamber of sleep, watching the horror look of the woman, with her hair imperfectly stood out in a messy bun but elegant manner, almost as if her hair was styled in such ways at the first place.

How perfectly natural she looks - as the maid failed to control herself for being in awe of such beauty she witnessed.

“Madame Choi,” the maid greeted politely once her senses came back, wanting to reassure the older woman standing shakily opposite of her.

Madame Choi is indeed a kind person, gaining not only respects but love from her employees with her humble, confident yet funny characteristics that she seems to proudly be able to maintain from her previous life as Mrs Choi instead of ‘the’ Madame Choi that everyone seems to eagerly call her nowadays; the title she diffidently carries but needed to, nevertheless.

A title that has never been stuck in her son’s and daughter’s heads, fortunately. It is not like she hated the title – it would be an honour really to carry the name around, but how she misses being called Mrs Choi instead, as her late husband used to call her when he was teasing around; a name that Madame Choi worries that will be gone along the absence of his light.

“Where is she?” Madame Choi wondered her daughter’s current where-about, demanding to be responded right away. Even if she is worried, still, her panic conveyed oh so clearly from behind her faded eyes can be easily hidden away by her cold stare, masking whatever feelings she felt on the inside. If not from the laboured breathing of the woman, echoed loudly around the tall walls around them, the maid won’t probably realize the difference first handed.

“Madame Moon is inside the main living room,” the maid informed, not really knowing to whom is Madame Choi really refers to but decided to name the guest herself instead, which of course confuses Madame Choi further, for not expecting such strange name to came out of .

“Madame Moon?” The older woman frowned as her mind rotated in a million angles, trying to come up with an authentic reason on why she is being adorned with the elegant one’s shadows at this hour. Madame Choi approached towards the huge glass doors that belong to the said room itself as the maid, without pausing, opened up the door for her, revealing none other than the familiar figure on the other brightly lit side.

“Madame Moon, Madame Choi is here.” The maid informed as the people in the room prepared themselves with such introduction. However, the distracted one among them all turned a late second after as she faced Madame Choi with a blank expression on.

She wasn’t alone, as Madame Choi immediately sensed – she counted at least a dozen men in the room with their infamous black suits on, surrounding themselves protectively around the seemingly cold woman in the middle; sitting on the comfortable sofa in parallel to the door.

It wasn’t an odd scene, really.

Madame Moon does carry herself around with a strong reputation. That woman is probably more dangerous than most criminals out there, with the amount of power she held in a single hand. She has been learning, and taught without recess ever since  she was just an innocent, naïve little girl. With the knowledge she has drilled inside her head is terrifying to even think about; Madame Moon is no ordinary woman, she’s a woman with pride and money – both that will never go well with each other.

Madame Moon is also often driven by her desire to avenge; a trait that Madame Choi would stop breathing if Moonbyul happened to follow.

Madame Choi gulped faintly, hiding her fear well for her daughter behind her own stoned stare. “Is she okay?” She asked worriedly.

‘Please, be okay.’

“Yes,” Madame Moon of course knows the real meaning of the simple question. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘Is Moonbyul in danger?’ ‘Why are you here instead of her?’

Madame Choi sighed in relief and closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them again, but now instead staring curiously at the other one though her frown still remain untroubled on her ageless face.

Silence overwhelming the two of them like a childhood friends as their eyes connected in the middle, faded brown through the silver eyes, piercing fiercely without a second thought.

Madame Moon suddenly cleared , as she raised her right hand up slightly, ordering words coming out of naturally, “leave me with her,” she finally said, dropping every sounds of the sentence loudly around the cold room.

The one closest to her stepped forward at once, with a firm refusal already at the edges of his lips, begging to be out, as he bowed down next to her.

“But Madame--” he started but he was cut off before he can even finish his aim, probably giving her a best reason on why a private conversation in a stranger house would be a bad idea after all, but she declined.

“I trust her,” and with just a single decree, the man did nothing but once again, bowed along before leaving the room quite hesitantly, but trailed the demand well nevertheless.

“Trust me with what?” Madame Choi wondered upon their, though uncomfortable but wanted absence.

“Miss Moon.”

“You said she’s okay.”

“She is, but I want to talk about her… with you.”

Madame Choi sighed heavily, making her way towards the sofa opposite of the older woman. “This is why I don’t like you coming here; and it’s not that you’re not welcome here, but your men make it seem like nothing but bad news will only come out of you.”

Madame Moon laughed softly, “Forgive me Jiwoo-shi for coming this late, I hope I didn’t wake up Young Master Choi.”

“He’s not even at home; he’s at his friend’s slumber party.”

“I see.”

“Do you want some tea?” Madame Choi offered.

“That would be alright, I won’t be long,” she smiled gently. “I just need to tell you something about Miss Moon. You’ll probably going to hear the news soon after.”

“What news?”

“Miss Moon’s engagement with Young Lady Jung.”

Madame Choi kept closed, though her face appears indifferent, however, on the inside she was extremely confused. ‘What is she talking about?’

Madame Moon, upon receiving the quiet and expectedly unresponsive ends from the woman, continues, “I would like for you to know this first before the media does. I assure you that Miss Moon would want to be the first to tell you but she is rather pre-occupied at the moment.” Madame Moon tried to comfort her.

“I didn’t even know that she was dating.”

“They weren’t,” a pause, “this is an arranged marriage.”

“Did she agree on this?”

“She hasn’t said anything otherwise.”

Madame Choi dropped her gaze to her hands on her lap. “Have you asked her opinion about this?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you should.” The rushed reason took the breath away from Madame Choi’s pair of lungs as she finally realized her mistake a little bit too late. However, as she peeked a glance on Madame Moon’s face right after, did change her mind rather quickly as she patted herself proudly, to bring up such strong impression for her daughter’s future sake; a soft demand yet heard so deafeningly throughout their ever short conversation.

She can hear the soft clicking ticks of the clock in the background, every second of the dreaded silence feels like a century past, stabbing her heart repeatedly with such painful feelings of the unknown, of being wrong, of being able to not bring back her bold statement against such ears of an independent strong woman.

There is no one, there should be no one, who would dare to command Madame Moon like herself; with just a snap of a finger, even for a woman like her own would lose in a blink of an eye if ever, the other person decided to want her gone, vanish from thin air. She could do it; that she is.

The fear that she has imprinted on every single one of them is terrifying to even think about.

“You don’t want the same thing happen with your son before, do you?”

She knows she’s playing with fire, she knows she’s nothing but only on a skinny thread of rope hanging around her neck, waiting for her to be pushed, even for just a little misstep would lead her to an unbearable consequences.

But she has met with much worse enemy, much worse decisions – as she for once; being afraid is no longer an option to live by, as she promised dangerously to her child

Madame Choi smiled understandingly as she spreads the positivity and calmness along, “I have raised her as my own, but she is no doubt, yours too.”

She nodded.

“You care about her, you have always been unnie.”

She sighed, but still no words ring by from her.

“I have known you for long – and I am such a proud friend when you first save her from the misery she carried.”

She dropped her gaze.

“Going behind your husband’s back was brave and rather selfless of you and I’m thankful for every star on the galaxy, thankful for you for bringing Moonbyul into our lives.”

Madame Moon’s eyes dampened insentiently, but she was quick to deny her kindness away from the younger woman’s truthful confessions, “I paid you well, enough for you to adopt her. I do not have the intention to treat her as my own--”

“Cut it off, you Moon people are dumb. Yes, you paid me well with this fortune but I swear to you, these treatments, I have never asked for them nor will it change my mind ever – your money makes absolutely no difference in those decisions I made 18 years ago, I love her at once, even when I first saw her.” Madame Choi pointed her finger accusingly, hurt that even her friend would think so low about her, hurt that her friend would doubt her love for her daughter, and mostly hurt, by the way Madame Moon’s stubborn refusal to vow her love for the young CEO, though her love was nothing but shone bright from her heart.

The woman stopped her ranting.

“The fortune is only half of what my father has taken away from your family; you do not owe me or will you ever need to ask them from me. They are yours – forgive me for being inconsiderate upon our conversation for… well, money... and about Miss Moon’s adoption. It was not my purpose to blame this against your generous sympathy of the girl.”

Madame Choi cracked her knuckles harshly on her right hand, a sound that made Madame Moon cringe in return – ‘she must be mad indeed to be questioned in such ways, I approached this the wrong way then.’

She decided to try again – as her friendship with the woman in front of her was the one thing that she cherishes the most, and she deserves nothing but the truth this time around, for all the secrets she kept and for all the troubles she dragged were beyond astonishing.

“I… I wasn’t ready to face her back then…” Madame Moon admitted quietly. It has always been so hard for her to open up like this – admitting something, at least, like this is difficult.

But this is different, she croaked.

Madame Choi is a friend, a family, even.

Though the woman is obviously years younger than her - her companionship however, has been nothing but outright pleasant.

Madame Choi is not a person who likes to pry around, she knows privacy when she sees one and she respects that; it is probably why Madame Moon has always trusted her, way even before she became the CEO of the Moon group.

Her husband was a cruel man, cold-hearted, stubborn yet powerful. That much she knows. She was married to him after all for so many years before his time came dragging along his useless ego and unbearable desire down upon his old age. She never loved him, really. He was an aggressive man, a man with no honour, a man who cheated his way to the top, a man with no mercy and definitely a man with no love.

These kinds of things don’t bother her anyway; they weren’t particularly heads over heels with each other. But one thing she never did was to cross him.

Marrying him would be, considered be the greatest regret of her life but having her son in the process was the most beautiful gift anyone can afford to; that, no one can argue – as her son has done absolutely everything that makes her life a little more colourful.

She loves him so, unlike his father did.

When her son was banned, she on the other hand, stayed. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.

Indeed, she was born as a young lady but Moon wasn’t even her surname to begin with – it wasn’t inherited to her blood, but it was his husband’s. No matter how much kindness her son might have seen through her, Madame Moon is no compassionate woman.

Her goal was simply to take the position away from her husband, as he wasn’t meant to lead and she believed, it was supposed to be hers – the only thought that kept her sane over the years. After all, that was solely the reason why she agreed to marry him at the first place.

One thing that her parents had taught her was family is everything, but power always comes first.

How ridiculous.

Her parents never really did care about her happiness; and she grew up to be as powerful as she can be at the end, for such lessons of life she learned on her own as the daughter from a wealthy, greedy family.

She was meant to be heartless.

She was meant to have high walls.

She was meant to know no love.

She was meant to be… not human.

But that day – that exact day she had found out about the existence of a particular someone, of her grand-daughter.

How is that even possible?

Her son is dead, not long after he left the house – has he been able to produce an heir without her knowing? Is this even the truth, for many lies have been fed to her multiple million times for what she still doesn’t know what to believe in anymore; losing her son destroys her last sanity in mind, a possibility that she never thought would be conceived.

The only love of her life gone because of her self-indulgence,

But despite of her grief, she never ever once shows her husband see a single drop of her tears.

That man didn’t even shed a tear when his son died – what kind of a father was he?

“You were afraid of your husband,” Madame Choi managed to object out, but Madame Moon was swift to contradict.

“No, my husband was sick; I wasn’t scared of him anymore at that moment.”

“Then, why didn’t you go see her?”

“She was a child and I was… powerless, still. All attentions were to us due to the death of my son. They would see this as a weakness and I cannot risk looking like an unmanageable woman to all those useless pairs of eyes.” Madame Moon rubbed her temples hardly, feeling the agonizing headache already forming at the back of her head. “How do you think people would react if I took her right there and then?”

“Does it matter? She’s your grand-daughter,” Madame Choi pressed, confused.

Madame Moon never really explain why before. Madame Choi trusted the older woman with her life, she didn’t even ask why and without a second question, decided to adopt the little girl back then with a single demand from her distressed friend – but looking at it now, she wants to know more, to know why Moonbyul was unwanted for about 10 years after her birth before she received a call from none other than yours truly.

“My husband didn’t like my son’s wife,” Madame Moon frowned regrettably, “and so did I. But he, especially, would not take it well if he even found out that our son had bear a child with that woman. He would have hunted her, making her life miserable, I highly think so. And do not make me start on what kind of things he would do upon him knowing the existence of Moonbyul.”

Madame Choi gave her a look, not much of a pity but more towards a knowing feeling that Madame Moon is not exaggerating at all, hearing the man’s imaginable reactions, “But she was just a child.”

“I regret not saving her myself but I have never regretted my decision to not allowing my husband knows the subsistence of our grand-daughter,” her eyes firmed, her tone loud and clear and her sitting posture straightened.

That is when Madame Choi knew; Madame Moon was protecting Moonbyul all these time.

She wanted Moonbyul to be the CEO because she wanted what is best for her, she wanted her to be powerful, to be the one in charge, to be the one people will fear upon hearing the name of hers – because she knew, what it is like to be looked down so low as she would never want Moonbyul, to be disrespected for being a girl.

Moonbyul is a Moon.

Even if she wasn’t, Moonbyul is strong – for all those people she has surrounded herself with, for all the painful experience that she has been wounded with, for all the suffering she had grieved before Madame Choi took her in and for all those feet that have been stepping on her just because she wasn’t a Moon before – Moonbyul will be the one people fear the most.

Madame Moon was making sure of it.

Madame Moon wanted to pay her back, to replace whatever hard childhood she went through because of her.

But even so, Madame Moon wanted Moonbyul to grow like a regular girl – without the pressure of the people under her – as the memories of her being raised in adoption families would give her the perfect glimpse of the world outside the world she has entertained now.

Madame Moon put aside her greed, and gave literally everything to the hand of an 18 year old girl – groomed her to be the strong woman she is now.

Marrying Young Lady Jung would have given her more allies, more people to worship her, to support her, to protect her.

Moonbyul might have thought the older woman is cruel, cold, not having a single care for her due to the lack of affections she exposed in front of her.

But, oh how so wrong Moonbyul really is, for such woman Madame Moon is, even the sun would be an easiest distance to travel forward if you’d consider her love for the young girl as a flying boat.

That woman loves her as much as she has loved her own son, if possible, even more so.

Madame Choi can see it now – Madame Moon is a smart woman, even Madame Choi herself took this long to figure out her real purpose in life and she really doubts it, that the public will ever catch up with the beautiful reality of their world.

She is indeed, the queen of the privacy.

“Just ask her, okay? You don’t want her to hate you just because of a petty thing like this, for I have raised her well but her foolishness has remained rooted just like yours after so many years,” Madame Choi begged.

Moonbyul is a gentle soul but the girl is no saint; after all, she did grow up in the Choi household.

“Fine, I will.”

“Good.”

“How’s your chemo treatment so far?”

“Tiring but I can handle it.”

“You should take it easy.”

“I have my doctors coming to my house every week, thanks to you of course,” Madame Choi thanked sarcastically.

“Not me,” Madame Moon pointed out in a rush, “that is actually Miss Moon’s idea.”

“Well, you did use my sickness to bribe her joining your family, no wonder it worries her badly,” Madame Choi flaunted around carelessly, not really intended to offend the woman but rather just stating the truth.

But when the word were out of before she can stops them, she knew she has pressed the sensitive button that triggers something rather unforgettable inside Madame Moon’s guarded heart; heavy with guilt.

“I’m sorr--”

“Don’t be,” Madame Choi reassured quickly, cutting the apology out of Madame Moon’s tongue. “You needed something to convince her, I understand. She wasn’t mine to begin with.” She finished with a sad smile.

“You have always been her real mother – Miss Moon was very clear about that when we had our deal on.”

“Thank you.”

“No Ji-woo-yah, thank you my friend.” Madame Moon went to hug the taller woman.

Moonbyul is so lucky to have two guardian angels alongside her,

Loving her unconditionally,

Protecting her silently,

Even if she doesn’t know it…

 

-End of flashback-

 

p/s: Oh ho! Hey guysss, oh my god thank you for your comments! I read them well and I love every single one of them <3

Do forgive me for not writing much about wheebyul in this chapter BUT I wanted to let you guys know about Moonbyul's adopted mother and a bit of background about Madame Moon, some of you are curious about them :) so there you go~

I'm sorry for the long delay, but I am dealing with the uni stuff, so I was like super tired everytime I go home but NO WORRIES, your supports have been amazing <3 <3 <3 AND I'M CURRENTLY WRITING THE NEXT CHAPTER NOW hahaha

Do comment what you guys think so far and thank you for reading and for supporting this story, I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH OMG *cries*