KIM Y/N |

"Do you kim yn take Mr. Jeon jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The priest's voice cut through the silence , dragging me out of the trance.

I blinked.

Once!

Twice!!

Thrice!!!

But it wouldn't fade away......I wanted it to be a dream , I wanted someone to wake me up from this very dream I was scared of ! But it wouldn't happen.

It was real....every single thing I was witnessing with my eyes filled with tears under the veil.

Each word spoken by the priest sliced through me like a dagger.

To have and to hold... in sickness and in health...

The vows were supposed to sound sacred, beautiful, but to me they were nothing but iron shackles.

Every syllable clanged against my skull like a verdict I hadn't agreed to.

My hands were trembling inside the lace gloves. I tightened them around the bouquet, knuckles whitening. The scent of roses and incense choked me.

And then I saw his hands moving towards me , I wanted to take a step back , I wanted to run as far as possible but my legs felt glued , wasn't even able to lift my gaze....let alone running away.

I was battling with my own mind when I felt the veil being pulled over my tiara.

I lifted my eyes, almost against my will, and met his. Jeon Jungkook.

Standing there with his dark hair falling over his forehead, his suit fitting him like it was made for him alone.

His gaze - God, that gaze. So much love, so much quiet hope, like I was the only thing that mattered to him. His lips curved into that devastating smile, waiting for me to say yes.

The word felt like poison in my throat.

He seemed like a good man ,but what was the point when my heart couldn't agree with this ?

The betrayal i was feeling?

I didn't want this marriage because it was nothing but just a responsibility forced on my shoulders.

I had no idea I was walking into my own wedding.

When my brother called me back from Seoul, saying he needed me here at busan , he said it was urgent and me being a fool!

I came running...because it was him.

Because no matter how many times I said no, no matter how many times I refused his wife's ridiculous suggestions, I could never say no to my brother himself.

He had raised me like a father after our parents died. He was the one person I thought would never hand me over like this.

But here I was.

Dressed in a gown I didn't choose, in a ceremony I didn't agree to, standing next to a man I had never seen before, Jeon Jungkook.

A stranger.

A complete stranger whose name I only learned when the priest read it out loud.

The incense, the roses, the soft echo of the priest's words, all of it blurred into a ringing in my ears. Every vow he read felt like a blade dragging across my chest.

I wanted to laugh, scream, run anything but stand here.

I could still hear my sister-in-law's voice from last night, like poison slipping under a door.

"Please, YN... whatever your brother is doing is for your own good. You know he cares for you. He raised you like his own kid. At least you can repay his kindness by doing this much, hmm?"

Repay.

That word had stabbed me worse than any insult. And my brother? my own brother...stood silent, didn't even correct her, didn't defend me.

He just gave me that cold look and said the one thing that crushed every last piece of me,"If you ever respected me as your elder brother, then say yes, YN."

Repay. Respect. Sacrifice.

All of it thrown at my feet like chains.

Now, standing at the altar, I turned my head slightly, seeing him in the crowd. My brother's face was stone, his eyes commanding, distant. And there she was - my sister-in-law - smirking like she'd won a game she'd been playing for years.

My gaze flicked back to Jungkook. He stood there with a soft expression, dark hair falling across his forehead, eyes full of something I couldn't name - hope? Tenderness? Love? He didn't look like a villain, didn't even look like someone aware of the trap. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he, too, thought this was a normal marriage.

But to me, it was a cage. A life sentence.

The priest's voice floated again:
"Do you, Y/N...?"

My throat locked. My heart banged against my ribs.

I forced my eyes down, staring at the white lace of my dress, at the tremble in my hands. I couldn't bear to look at anyone. Not my brother. Not her. Not even him.

My tears pressed hard against the back of my eyes, burning, but I swallowed them like shards of glass. No one would see me cry. Not here. Not now.

Somewhere far away I heard the priest repeat the question. My brother's demand echoed in my head - If you ever respected me as your elder brother, then say yes, YN.

My mouth opened. The words weren't mine anymore. They belonged to every command, every manipulation, every guilt they had laid on me.

"I do."

It came out as a whisper.

Lifeless. Hollow.

The church went quiet for a heartbeat. Then Jungkook smiled, that soft, devastating smile - like he had been waiting his whole life to hear me say those words.

My stomach turned.

I wanted to tell him everything,but my sister in law never left my side even for a second, the only time she stayed away was right now.

Maybe feeling satisfied because I have nowhere to go now.

I stood there, numb and still, feeling the world shift around me. The applause, the camera shutters, the low hum of voices, it all blurred.

Inside, there was nothing left but an ache so deep it felt like I was disappearing into it.

And yet, outwardly, I was a perfect bride.

Doing everything I had been told.
Just a robot. Functioning.

"Do you Jeon jungkook, take miss kim yn to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

The priest continued"To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,Until-"

"Until death do us part" Jungkook completed the last words

"I vow," he said, eyes fixed on me, "to stand by you."

"To be your shelter, your strength, and your companion."

"I don't know what destiny has written for us, but I promise you, Y/N, I will try to give you a life where you feel safe... and free."

Each word made the crowd sigh softly, a collective hum of approval. But to me, every syllable was a weight.

His sincerity was a knife twisting in my chest, because he meant it. But me? I don't know.

Soon the rings were exchanged, and my eyes were glued downward staring at the crystal shining on my finger.

Then the priest smiled. "And now, the bride and groom may seal their vows with a kiss."

The words struck like thunder. My stomach dropped. My breath hitched. The whole church seemed to lean in.

My heart sank. My hands trembled around the bouquet. I stared down at the floor, at the folds of my dress, anything but his face. My pulse hammered in my ears.

I felt him move closer, a quiet step, the scent of his cologne brushing against me.

Then his fingers slid over mine, warm, steady, gently prying the bouquet from my tight grip. His other hand took mine, enveloping it softly, his thumb stroking over my knuckles.

I shut my eyes immediately, bracing for the inevitable. My face burned red... The cameras clicked, the crowd held its breath.

But the kiss never came.

Instead, I felt the softest press of lips against the back of my hand, a gentle, almost reverent touch.

Gasps rose around the room. A murmur of surprise. I blinked my eyes open, startled.

Jungkook was still holding my hand, his gaze on me, dark and steady but soft at the edges. There was no smugness, no entitlement.

"I won't take what you're not ready to give."

----

The flashes of the cameras were blinding. Every click felt like another reminder: this was real. This marriage was real.

People were smiling, clapping, fussing over us. I stood still, my bouquet heavy in my hands, my cheeks stiff from the forced smile I'd been wearing for an hour now.

"Bride and groom, closer, please!" the photographer called cheerfully.

Before I could react, Jungkook's hand reached for mine - large, warm, steady.

He didn't grab...he didn't pull.

He simply offered his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, a silent question in his eyes. His touch was gentle, his fingers brushing mine softly as if he were afraid of scaring me.

I hesitated, then placed my hand in his.

His thumb moved lightly over my knuckles, a soothing motion that shouldn't have meant anything but somehow did.

"Everything okay?" he murmured, leaning closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded quickly, eyes downcast. I couldn't look at him for too long; his kindness made the guilt worse.

The photographer arranged us in front of the archway.

Jungkook was standing slightly behind me, one arm sliding carefully around my waist - not possessive, not claiming, just supportive. He was careful, almost reverent, like he knew I might break.

"Smile, please!" the photographer urged.

Jungkook bent his head a little, his breath warm near my ear. "I know you must be nervous but, You need to relax Mrs Jeon!"

"It's not like I'm going to eat you or something " he joked , letting out a soft chuckle.

He placed his palm on my waist and my heart hammered inside my ribs.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her, a woman with soft features and kind eyes, wearing a pale blue hanbok. Jungkook's mother. She had been watching from a distance, her hands clasped together, her expression warm but concerned.

She looked nothing like the cold, calculating women my sister in law told me about.

When our eyes met, she gave me a small, reassuring smile.

After a few shots, she approached us quietly. "Sweetheart," she said softly, addressing me.

"Let me fix your veil." Her voice was low, melodic, the kind of voice that soothed instead of commanded. She adjusted the lace carefully, her fingers light on my hair, almost motherly.

"You look beautiful," she whispered. "Don't be nervous."

Something hot rose behind my eyes. Nervous. That's what she thought. Not trapped. Not betrayed. Just nervous.

Jungkook glanced at me, then at his mother. "Thanks, Mom," he said gently, before looking back at me. "Ready for the next one?"

I managed a small nod.
He squeezed my hand again,that same soft pressure, no force, no demand.

★★★

The car waited with its ribboned hood, photographers and relatives hovering around, everyone pretending this was a celebration.

My heart was beating slow and dull, like it had been wrapped in cotton.

I stood beside Jungkook, bouquet still in my hands, veil slipping slightly as people came forward to congratulate and hug us.

My brother stayed back, distant, his face unreadable. But of course, she was the first to approach.

My sister-in-law swept toward me in a pale pink dress, her expression a masterclass in fake concern. Her eyes were shiny with crocodile tears, her lips trembling in a pitiful smile.

"YN..." she said, voice soft, hand reaching out as if she were truly heartbroken to see me go. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to miss you so much. Take care of yourself, okay?"

She turned to Jungkook, her tone shifting into a performative sweetness. "Please, Jungkook-ssi, take care of our YN. She's a little shy but such a good-hearted girl."

"I will," Jungkook said simply. His voice was warm, steady, like he meant it.

His hand tightened around mine, and for a strange flicker of a moment I believed him.

Then she embraced me. Her perfume was cloying, thick, suffocating. Her arms wrapped around me just tightly enough to make escape impossible but soft enough to appear loving to anyone watching. I stood still, my own arms barely lifting.

"Oh, YN..." she whispered with a little sniffle. "I'm going to miss you so, so much."

And then her lips brushed my ear, her voice turning sharp and low, cutting through the noise like a blade.

"Don't you dare make a mess of this marriage and come back to us," she hissed. "Since you're out of our family, stay out forever."

I blinked, my throat locking. The tears she pretended to shed slid against my cheek, but I knew they weren't real. The venom in her whisper burned hotter than the incense had in the church.

She pulled back, her face a perfect mask of sisterly affection, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "You'll always be in our prayers," she said sweetly, loud enough for the others to hear.

I forced a brittle smile.

And then my brother moved.

He stepped toward Jungkook first, ignoring me. "Take care of my sister," he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. His arms briefly hugged Jungkook, a stiff but deliberate gesture.

Jungkook nodded once. "You don't have to worry about anything, she is my wife now and I will make sure to give her everything she deserves."

Then my brother turned to me.

For the first time that day, I saw something fragile in his gaze, a flicker of the boy who once protected me, once held my hand crossing busy streets.

For a heartbeat, it almost undid me.

He lifted his hand slowly, hesitantly, as if to place it on my head, a blessing maybe, a final gesture of love before sending me off.

But my feet moved back on their own.

One step. Then another.
My veil trembled in the breeze, my bouquet rattling in my hands.

Blinking hard, I forced the tears back. My throat burned but my eyes stayed cold.

The moment he forced me against my will was the moment he lost every right to touch me. Every right to call himself my protector. Every right to bless me.

No matter how soft his eyes looked now, it didn't erase the humiliation.

The manipulation. The way he had stood silent while his wife cut me down with her words.

If they truly cared for me, they wouldn't have forced me into this.

I held his gaze, my chin lifting just slightly. I saw the flicker of pain there, the way his hand faltered in the air before dropping to his side. He didn't step closer. He didn't try again.

My sister-in-law clutched his arm now, pressing a tissue to her eyes, playing the grieving act perfectly for everyone watching. I turned away, refusing to give them another glance.

Jungkook's hand found the small of my back, steady, guiding me toward the waiting car. His touch was the only anchor in the chaos, gentle, not claiming.

I turned my head slowly toward them. My brother. My sister-in-law. My whole old life standing a few steps away.

"Thank you... for everything you've done for me."

"For raising me....for providing a good life and for not letting me feel the absence of eomma appa" I continued, tilting my head just slightly.

"I'll make sure not to trouble you in the future."

"Goodbye," I said finally, softly, a word that everyone thought was a farewell, but to me was a severing.

I stepped inside without looking back.

★★★