Chapter 2: (Aaira's pov)

As the car pulled up to the grand house, my family's gift to us, I couldn't help but gasp at its beauty. The house was a perfect blend of modern elegance and traditional charm. Twinkling fairy lights adorned the exterior, and the garden was a sea of fresh flowers, their fragrance wafting through the cool night air. Servants were busy bustling around the garden, making last-minute adjustments to the decor.

Maybe things could still turn around. Maybe Jimin and I could start fresh, here in this beautiful home. But those hopes were quickly dashed when Jimin stepped out of the car without so much as a glance in my direction. He slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise serene night.

I sat there for a moment, stunned. Did he just leave me here? Alone? My cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger as I watched his figure stride purposefully toward the front door where his family stood waiting. I shook my head, trying to push away the sting of humiliation.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to get out of the car, but my gown had other plans. The voluminous fabric got caught in the door. I tugged gently, but it refused to budge. Frustration bubbled within me, and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Why is this day so different from what I imagined?

When I opened my eyes again, they were brimming with tears, but I refused to let them fall. With a determined tug, I freed my gown, thankfully without tearing it. Gathering the fabric in my hands, I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the house.

At the door stood Jimin's mother, Junghwa, and his sister, Hwasa. They were both dressed impeccably, their smiles warm and welcoming. Unlike Jimin, they seemed genuinely happy about the occasion, and their kindness gave me a glimmer of comfort.

Junghwa stepped forward, holding a silver tray with a small glass of water and a pinch of salt. It was a traditional Christian welcome ritual, symbolizing the purification and blessing of the bride as she enters her new home. She smiled at me warmly.

Junghwa: Welcome to the family, Aaira.

She said softly, handing me the glass. I took it with slightly trembling hands and sipped the water, the cool liquid calming my frayed nerves. Then, I took the pinch of salt and sprinkled it over my left shoulder, a gesture meant to ward off evil and ensure a harmonious start to our new life.

Hwasa stepped forward next, holding a beautiful white candle adorned with lace and pearls. She handed it to me with a shy smile.

Hwasa: This is for you. It represents light and hope for your journey in this home.

She explained. I smiled at her, touched by her sweet gesture.

Aaira: Thank you, Unnie. That's so thoughtful.

I replied softly, earning a small grin from her. His mother then gestured for me to step inside. As I crossed the threshold, she placed her hands lightly on my shoulders and said a brief prayer for blessings, peace, and love to fill our lives. Her words were gentle and sincere, and I felt a lump in my throat.

If only Jimin shared her warmth, I thought sadly. Inside, the house was breathtaking. The living room was filled with fresh flowers, candles, and elegant decorations, all meticulously prepared to make our first night here special.

The atmosphere was festive, but there was an underlying tension. Jimin was nowhere to be seen. His mother noticed my gaze darting around the room and gave me a reassuring smile.

Junghwa: He's probably upstairs.

She said softly.

Junghwa: Give him some time. It's been a long day for both of you.

I nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. But her kindness only made the ache in my chest grow. After the formalities were complete, Junghwa and Hwasa led me to the staircase. Before they left, his mother handed me a small necklace, its cover intricately decorated.

Junghwa: This is a family tradition.

She explained.

Junghwa: Keep it with you.

Aaira: Thank you, Mrs. Bang.

I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Junghwa: Call me Mom.

She said with a warm smile, patting my hand gently. Her words caught me off guard, and I felt a surge of emotion. I nodded, unable to speak as my throat tightened with unshed tears. As they left me alone, I stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, staring up at the long, winding steps.

The day had been overwhelming, and now, the thought of facing Jimin again filled me with apprehension and hope. Gathering my courage, I climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. When I reached our bedroom, I hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. The room was stunning, decorated in soft, romantic tones with more flowers and candles.

It was everything I'd imagined a bridal suite to be. But the atmosphere was far from romantic. Jimin was sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie loosened and his gaze distant. He didn't look up when I entered. I set the necklace box down on a nearby table and turned to him, my heart pounding.

Aaira: Jimin.

I began hesitantly. He didn't respond, his posture tense. I stepped closer, determined to bridge the gap between us.

Aaira: Jimin, I know today has been difficult.

I continued, my voice soft.

Aaira: But we're married now. Can we at least try to talk? To understand each other?

He finally looked up, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might say something, but instead, he stood abruptly and walked toward the balcony.

Jimin: I'm tired.

He said flatly. He strode out onto the balcony, his presence filling the air with an almost suffocating tension. I followed him instinctively, but before I could step onto the balcony, I saw him descend the staircase that led down to our private garden. He didn't even glance back. I hesitated at the doorway, clutching the cold metal railing of the balcony.

Below, Jimin walked across the garden, his silhouette darkened by the faint glow of the moonlight. He stopped by the swing in the center of the garden, sat down, and pulled out a cigarette. The flicker of the lighter illuminated his face for a moment before a thin plume of smoke curled into the air. He hadn't spared me even a second glance.

My chest tightened, the weight of disappointment crushing me. Tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at him, silently begging him to look up, to acknowledge me, to offer me anything but this unbearable coldness. When it became clear that he wouldn't, the tears spilled over, and a small sob escaped my lips. I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, embarrassed by my own vulnerability.

I turned away, closing the door to the balcony behind me, though it did little to muffle the distant sound of Jimin's swing creaking as he swayed gently in the garden. I sank onto the edge of the bed, the ornate decorations and romantic lighting mocking me.

I was angry now, angry at him, at the situation, at myself. My tears turned hot with frustration as I yanked off my jewelry, each piece feeling heavier than the last. My bangles clinked and clattered as I threw them onto the floor, their bright colors shattering the silence like tiny explosions. I tore out my hairpins, the delicate ornaments falling one by one until my dark red hair tumbled loosely around me.

The anger surged, a storm of emotions I could no longer contain. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, I felt humiliated, unwanted, and discarded. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest, burying my face in it as I let out a muffled scream.

Then, I heard a buzzing sound. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. It wasn't my phone, I'd left it on my side of night table, and it sat there, silent. The buzzing came again, faint but insistent. I scanned the room until my eyes landed on Jimin's phone, lying abandoned on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

Curiosity and dread warred within me. I hesitated, but the buzzing continued, pulling me closer until I was kneeling by the nightstand, staring at the glowing screen. The name flashing on the screen made my breath hitch: Nekkeoya.

I blinked, my vision blurring as I stared at the word. The phone showed 56 missed calls and 296 messages, all from this single contact. My stomach churned. Nekkeoya? My mind raced. Was this his ex? Someone from his past he hadn't let go of? Or someone new he hadn't told me about? The phone buzzed again, a new message lighting up the screen: "She made you forget about me so soon?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My hands trembled as I quickly grabbed my own phone, scrolling through my messages to see if there was any chance this contact was me. But it wasn't. I'd sent Jimin only one message all day, a simple "I'm ready" before the wedding. Nothing like this.

My hands fell limply to my sides, and I stared at the phone in disbelief. The evidence was right there, but my mind refused to accept it. Was he cheating on me? I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just someone from his past, someone who hadn't let go. Maybe it wasn't what it looked like.

But the pain of the possibility was unbearable. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, tears streaming down my face. My mind screamed at me to confront him, to demand an explanation, but my body refused to move. The weight of the day, the disappointment, and now this revelation crushed me.

I backed away from the phone as if it were something toxic, crawling to the far side of the bed. My knees pulled to my chest, and I rocked back and forth, trying to calm the storm inside me. The room felt colder, darker. The world I had built in my head, the dreams of a loving husband and a happy life was crumbling before my eyes.

Outside, the faint glow of Jimin's cigarette glimmered in the dark garden, each drag and exhale a stark reminder of the distance between us. The swing creaked faintly as he swayed, lost in his own thoughts, completely oblivious to the storm raging in my heart.

I clutched the pillow tighter, my tears soaking into the fabric as silent sobs wracked my body. My chest ached, and I wondered if this was how it would always be. Would I always feel this unwanted? This unloved? My thoughts spiraled, but I forced myself to take deep breaths, to find some semblance of calm.

When the buzzing finally stopped, I glanced back at the phone, its screen dark now. But the image of the messages burned in my mind, refusing to leave me. I had dreamed of a new beginning with Jimin, a life filled with love and partnership. But now, as I sat alone in this grand, empty room, I realized the truth: the life I'd imagined might have only ever existed in my mind.

For the first time that night, I felt not just sadness but anger.... anger at Jimin, anger at myself for wanting him to be someone he wasn't, and anger at the situation for robbing me of the happiness I had so desperately longed for.

But I wasn't ready to confront him. Not yet. Not until I was stronger or sure, i wasnt ready to face whatever truth lay behind that screen. For now, all I could do was sit in the suffocating silence, waiting for the courage to face the man who had already broken my heart.

***

I knelt down, my knees pressing against the cold, polished floor, picking up the scattered pieces of jewelry. My fingers trembled as I gathered the bangles one by one, their delicate charms now tarnished. My hairpins lay scattered around me as well, some under the bed, some lost in the chaos of the room. I picked them up, clutching them between my fingers, my movements slower now.

I stood up, holding my hairpins and jewelry close to my chest. A sigh escaped my lips as I turned towards the closet. But as I approached, the reality of the situation hit me, none of my belongings were here. My stuff, my clothes, my essentials, they were still in the car. I groaned, the frustration bubbling up once again. How could I have forgotten? How could I be so careless?

I dragged my hand through my tangled hair. I knelt down on the floor, holding my head in my hands. What's wrong with me? I thought, desperately trying to make sense of the disarray inside me. This wasn't what I had imagined.

I had thought that moving into this beautiful house with Jimin would be the start of something new, something beautiful. But instead, all I felt was lost. A part of me wanted to scream, to let it all out, to shake him, to demand answers. But I held it in.

Aaira: Calm down, Aaira.

I told myself.

Aaira: You're here with Jimin. That's all you wanted. Why do you care about anything else?

But I couldn't shake the frustration. I wanted to punch the walls, scream at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't. So instead, I closed my eyes and began to hum.

Aaira: Whenever I came near you, I got a peace,
The one I had kept forgetting, I got that existence
When the weather of sorrow came, I remembered you,
When I was scared with loneliness, I remembered you.

I began to sing softly, my voice shaky at first, but gradually finding its rhythm. The lyrics of the song flowed from my lips.

Aaira: The way on which your house is there,
I have often passed from there,
probably this was in the heart,
that maybe I stumble in you, who knows..
What is this story,
don't know, I don't know..

The words rang in the stillness of the room, their simplicity oddly calming.

Aaira: When there is nothing in between
then why does the heart knit your dreams only,
I tried for it to forget you,
but even that couldn't be possible..
What is this matter, don't know
I don't know...

The song made me feel small again, safe and loved, like nothing else mattered but the melody. I closed my eyes, letting the song wrap around me, but the silence in the room was suddenly broken by a loud voice.

Jimin: What the hell?

I jumped, my body stiffening as I turned around to see Jimin standing in the doorway of the closet, his eyes wide with shock. His hand was pressed to his chest as if he had just had his heart startled out of his body. He glared at me, his brows furrowed.

Jimin: You scared the fuck out of me!

He exclaimed, I froze, my mind spinning.

Aaira: What?

The calmness I had just found quickly slipped away, replaced by a sudden wave of embarrassment. I hadn't even heard him come in. He continued to stare at me, his eyes narrowing, and then his gaze fell on my hair. My fingers instinctively went up to touch it, but I already knew what he was going to say.

Jimin: You have witch-like hair.

I flinched at his words. His tone was dismissive, almost cruel, as if my appearance, my presence, irritated him. I felt a rush of heat to my face. He wasn't even trying to hide the judgment in his eyes. He was looking at me like I was an inconvenience.

Something he had to deal with, not the woman he had married just hours ago. Jimin didn't wait for me to respond. He shook his head in disbelief and turned away from me, heading toward the bathroom.

Jimin: Oh god.

He muttered under his breath, clearly done with the scene. I stood frozen in place, the sting of his words still lingering in my chest, but I didn't have the strength to argue with him. I heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing, the faint rush of water running, and then nothing. It was as if he had retreated into his own little world, leaving me behind in mine.

The silence felt like an eternity. I stood there, my heart sinking deeper with each passing moment, the frustration of the day welling up inside me. I had spent all this time trying to build a life, a future with him, but it felt as though I was invisible, a shadow to him. I was fighting a battle I didn't even know how to win.

I stood motionless for a few more moments, listening to the sound of Jimin's movements from the bathroom. Eventually, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the door. The sense of being unwanted was suffocating, but I couldn't let it consume me entirely. Not yet.

With trembling hands, I began to pick up the rest of my jewelry from the floor, placing each piece carefully back into its box. My hairpins were next. I walked slowly, methodically, toward the closet, trying to ignore the sense of unease that had taken over my every thought.

I opened the closet door and stared at the empty shelves. I had nothing here, nothing of my own. My belongings were still sitting in the car, waiting for me to bring them inside, but Jimin had never bothered to ask me about it. No gesture of kindness, no concern. It was as if I had to fend for myself.

Aaira: How did it get like this?

I knelt on the floor again, gathering up what little I had left of myself. And just as I was about to stand, I heard Jimin's footsteps in the hallway. My heart skipped a beat, but when he entered the room, he was dressed in his nightwear, his face devoid of any emotion.

He glanced at me briefly, then turned toward the balcony again, clearly uninterested in anything I had to say or feel. Without a word, he walked past me and opened the balcony door, stepping outside once again, leaving me alone in the room.

I stood there, staring at the open door, my body frozen in place. The tears I had been holding back welled up once more, but this time, I didn't try to hold them in. I let them fall. Each one was a silent cry for something I wasn't sure I would ever find with him.

My head was pounding as I stood on the balcony, feeling the cool night air brush against my face. The sounds of the city faded into the background, but the tension inside me only grew louder. I needed something, anything, to break the silence that had built up between Jimin and me since we arrived at this house. I couldn't take the weight of his indifference anymore. My mind felt like it was about to explode.

Aaira: Jimin!

I shouted. He looked up from where he was sitting on the swing, his cigarette dangling from his fingers. His eyes met mine, and there was an almost amused glint in them as if I was a nuisance he couldn't quite escape.

Jimin: What?

He asked, his voice low, almost disinterested.

Aaira: My head's hurting.

I said, my words coming out more fragile than I intended.

Aaira: I want coffee.

He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stepping off the swing with a smirk on his face. The cigarette burned out in the grass, but his gaze on me was far more scorching.

Jimin: Where do you think you are?

He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I frowned, not understanding.

Aaira: What do you mean?

I asked, feeling the confusion twist inside me. I needed to know if there was some way, any way, that I could fix what had gone so wrong.

Jimin: Are you home?

He asked, his smirk widening.

Aaira: Of course, I am.

I replied, my voice tinged with uncertainty. His eyes narrowed, his amusement fading into something colder.

Jimin: Well, from now on, you're going to do all your chores yourself.

My mouth fell open in shock. I stared at him, unable to process the words.

Aaira: What?

I asked again, my voice trembling slightly.

Aaira: Where are the maids?

Jimin's expression didn't change. He didn't offer an ounce of sympathy, didn't even blink. He just looked at me, his face unreadable.

Jimin: I asked my sister to fire them.

He said casually, like he was discussing the weather.

Jimin: Because my wife can do the chores.

I squinted my eyes.

Jimin: You can, right, wifey?

I blinked, my stomach dropping. I didn't know what to say. I had expected the grand gesture of starting a life together in this beautiful house, but this... this was not what I imagined. He wasn't just dismissing me, he was commanding me.

Like I wasn't even a partner in this marriage. I didn't respond immediately, but my silence seemed to aggravate him. He stood up from the swing and began walking towards the stairs, the sound of his footsteps heavy in the quiet night.

Jimin: You vowed, you will do anything for me.

He said as he ascended, his voice taunting.

Jimin: Be my obedient, sweet, dumb housewife.

The words hit me like a slap. My chest tightened as my thoughts scattered in every direction. I stood there, frozen, my mind struggling to comprehend what he was saying. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Was this really how he saw me? His obedient, dumb housewife? I had imagined starting a life with him full of love and support, not this cold, demeaning behavior.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he turned to face me, his gaze never leaving mine.

I stood still, my heart racing, barely able to breathe. He took a few steps toward me, standing directly in front of me now, his eyes searching mine for some sign of resistance. He smirked again, but there was no warmth in it, no affection.

Jimin: Or you can do one more thing. The easier thing.

I narrowed my eyes, not sure where this was going. My heart was beating wildly now. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, his gaze locking onto mine like a predator about to pounce.

Jimin: Quit.

I felt a jolt run through my body, like a rush of ice water. Quit? The word echoed in my mind. Quit. The easiest thing? To walk away from everything? I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself. My mind spun, and the frustration.

The hurt, and the confusion all mixed together into a swirling mess inside me. I couldn't just leave. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of walking away, of admitting defeat. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze head-on. My voice was steady despite the anger that burned inside me.

Aaira: I won't quit.

I said firmly.

Aaira: I'm not a loser.

Jimin's expression shifted, a flicker of something, disappointment? Passing over his face before it was replaced by cold indifference.

Jimin: I never said you were a loser.

He replied, his tone was dismissive.

Jimin: But you seem to think you're entitled to something, just because you're here. You're not. You'll do as I say, when I say it.

His words stung more than I expected, the finality of them cutting through me. But I wasn't going to let him break me. Not like this.

Aaira: You can't just dictate everything about me, Jimin.

I said, my voice stronger now.

Aaira: This isn't a marriage. It's a power struggle. You're not my boss. You're my husband.

I saw something flicker in his eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to understand. He didn't respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was cold, almost detached.

Jimin: You wanted this, remember?

He said, his tone dropping into something darker.

Jimin: You wanted to marry me. You promised you'd be the perfect wife. You'd do anything for me.

Aaira: Yeah, I did.

I shot back, my voice rising in frustration.

Aaira: But I didn't think it would be like this! I didn't think you'd treat me like some... some servant!

Jimin didn't flinch. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

Jimin: That's how it's going to be from now on. You'll learn your place, Aaira.

I felt my heart lurch in my chest, and for a moment, I didn't know what to do. The words burned, but I couldn't let him see how much they hurt. I had come this far, and I couldn't let him push me around.

Aaira: You know...

I said, my voice trembling with emotion.

Aaira: I thought marrying you would be the best thing to ever happen to me. I thought we'd be partners. But all you've shown me is that you only care about controlling me.

Jimin's face hardened, but there was a flicker of something, something deeper than anger beneath the surface. He took a step closer, his body almost touching mine now.

Jimin: You'll get used to it.

He said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

Jimin: You'll learn that I know what's best for you. And when you do, it won't be so hard.

I stood my ground, but my heart was heavy.

Aaira: I'm not going to break, Jimin. I don't care how many times you tell me to leave you, i will not leave you.

There was a long, heavy silence between us, the tension so thick I could almost taste it. Finally, Jimin sighed, his shoulders slumping as if he had given up on something, maybe me, maybe this entire conversation. He took a step back, his eyes darkening with frustration.

Jimin: I don't have time for this.

He muttered under his breath, turning on his heel and walking away from me, his footsteps echoing as he retreated.

Jimin: If you want coffee? Go make it for yourself, and if you're going to make it, make it for me too.

I stood there, my heart racing, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. I had thought that when I said I wouldn't quit, I had taken control. But now, I wasn't so sure. Jimin had made it clear that he wasn't interested in a partnership, in a true marriage. He was interested in power. And I was beginning to realize that this wasn't a fight I could win alone. Not with him.