Chapter Text
Two months since the Chuseok dinner. Two months since Hyujin walked in on her husband kissing his brother's wife in the bathroom. For the rest of the night, Hyunjin had pretended to be fine. Don't cause a scene, she repeated like a mantra. This is a family holiday, do not cause a scene. Let your kids be happy.
So much for that.
Her eldest son, ever perceptive, found her in one of the balconies, away from the family's chaos. A whispered “eomma?” was enough to break her down further, crying into Changbin's chest as he held her silently.
That night, when everyone was gone, Hyunjin gently pulled Chan to the side and asked if they could go for a little vacation, just the three of them. Changbin had helped her pack, mainly his own and Chan’s things. She didn't need much, her penthouse on the other side of the city had everything.
The note was written, carefully placed on their bed for Jisung to find. By the time he comes home from dropping his parents off at Seungmin's house, she'd be long gone.
Or so she thought.
Plans must have been changed, her in-laws might have told him there's no need, or he had decided to cancel on his own.
Either way, the moment Hyunjin and her sons were ready to step out, the door opened. He looked at the bags, then at Hyunjin's tear-swollen, red eyes. Jisung caught on quickly, because the next second he was on his knees, tears streaming down his face at an alarming rate.
“Baby,” he had choked out. “I'm sorry -”
Hyunjin had laughed in his face. Baby. As if he had any right to still call her that. Years ago, it was that pet name that had won her over, made her blush and giggle like the child she was. Falling for his charms.
Han had begged for hours,still on his knees, holding onto her thighs like a lifeline as she stood there. He looked like a pathetic, broken man. Part of her was vindicated, delighted that he looked the same as she did on that night. The other part, the traitor that still clung to the past, wanted to take him in her arms and soothe him.
She turned her head sharply, relieved to find her sons weren't there.At some point, Changbin must have taken Chan to a different room. Hyunjin didn't know what she did to deserve those sons of hers ……or what she did to deserve a man like Jisung.
Baby, I'm sorry.
You can hit me all you want.
You can hate me all you want. Don't leave me, I'll do anything.
You know she means nothing. You know I love you
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Think of Channie, will you really take him away from his father?
I'll be better, please, baby. Give me a chance.
Endless apologies, endless begging. After all she had suffered, Hyunjin thought there was no forgiveness left in her. She was wrong. She was weak. Always too weak for Jisung, for her kids, into this family she had spent more than half of her life building.
In the end, exhausted and clinging onto the barest thread of hope, she had forgiven him. A second chance.
To his credit, he had changed. More present, more attentive, more loving. More like the man he once was. He took her out on dates more often, visited her gallery at random times, a bouquet in his hands, sent her silly texts as he had back then. Wrote her songs.
If Hyunjin was more like her earlier self, she might have fallen for him again. But after learning to ignore her husband's wandering gaze, his not-so-innocent “friendship” with Lina, she was exhausted.
If she really thinks about it, nothing substantial has changed. Even when he was fucking his sister-in-law, Jisung still had been quite affectionate with Hyunjin. He still did half of the housework, still dropped their sons off at school while she picked them up, and still helped her run the house. A man of dreams, her mom used to say.
Still says.
When Hyunjin had called her that day, telling her what Jisung did, she had been furious at him, ready to get on the train and beat some sense into him. But then, when Hyunjin mentioned she was leaving him for good, she seemed more mad at her.
“I know you're angry but don't you think that's too harsh, sweetie?”
“He cheated on me. Isn't that harsh?”
“Men make mistakes, Hyunjin-ah. A big mistake, but will you ever find a man half as good as him? He does for you more than what your father ever did for us!”
Hyunjin had thrown her phone away, blood boiling at the thought of having to forgive Jisung, simply because he did more than what was expected of men. She was determined not to be like her mother, staying in a loveless marriage.
That hadn't worked out quite as well as she expected.
“Eomma,” Changbin's excited voice brings her back to the present, in the kitchen where she's cutting pears for her five year old. He hugs her from behind and grabs one of the pears from the basket. “Hyun-hyung said my footwork has improved a ton since I started and even took me out for ice-cream after class! Isn't he so cool? And pretty.”
“Is that so?” Hyunjin says, turning around to look at her son. He looks excited and happy, as he always does after coming home from dance class. In less than a month of having started this class, she had already had an earful from Changbin of this “Hyun-hyung.”
She only half-paid attention to it. Changbin came home with a new crush every other week, usually on girls too old for him, occasionally a boy from his gym. She assumed this boy must be the same.
“Not as pretty as you, of course,” Changbin says, muffled, half of the pear stuffed between his cheeks. “But almost. You should meet him once, then you'll realize.”
“How old did you say he was?” Hyunjin asks, half-tuning his son's smitten rambling out and turning back to cutting the fruit. Sometimes it worried her, how easily her son trusted everyone, how he wore his heart on his sleeve. A trait inherited from her.
“Twenty-one.”
“Is he your tutor or your friend?”
“Both!”
Hyunjin hums. The age-gap worried her, but she trusts Changbin enough to tell her when something was wrong. He is sixteen already, he can have adult friends if he wants.
In fact, Hyunjin is even grateful to this mysterious dance teacher for bringing back some of the light back in her son's eyes.
Which is why when Changbin comes to her, a week later, asking if he can invite “Hyun-hyung” to the family dinner the next day, she barely puts up a fight.
“Eomma, please!”
“You know how our family is like, Binnie. Do you really want him to sit through that??”
“It's exactly because of that that I want to invite him. Maybe they'll behave when a guest is around……Appa might behave when he's around.”
Hyunjin's heart breaks a little at that. Her son truly had to grow up too fast, believing it's his responsibility to keep the peace.
She sighs. “Alright, but it's your duty to keep him comfortable.”
And that's how she found an armful of her very strong son repeating “thank you thank you thank you” in her ear.
***
The dinner was to be hosted at Hyunjin and Jisung's house. She had insisted on it.
Her in-laws were visiting, and Lina's sister was back from Australia for her winter break. Lina had offered to host it herself, and knowing how good of a cook her sister-in-law was, Hyunjin almost agreed. Almost.
Hyunjin would rather swallow glass than go back to the same house where she first caught Lina moaning around her husband's tongue.
In her own house, even if she had to entertain all these people and pretend some of them hadn't destroyed her life, she still had some degree of control.
She could choose the menu, the decorations, and have an excuse of exhaustion if they noticed fake-smiles (not that her in-laws ever commented on that).
Knowing Lina, Hyunjin decides to forgo her signature white shirt and shorts. She went for her mid-length pencil skirt she usually wears to the office, paired with a red blouse gifted to her by her mother-in-law and a small silver chain gifted by Jisung. Even to her own eyes, she seems desperate, a jealous wife competing with a younger rival.
But if it stops Jisung's eyes from wandering elsewhere, she'll be at peace.
Seungmin and Lina arrived early with Yongbok and Jeongin. She hugged her, complimented her outfit, then helped her with the dinner while their husbands set the table and Jeongin babysat the kids. Her in-laws arrive just in time for the dinner, likely carrying heavy bags full of gifts for the children.
When they're all sat, Changbin's eyes keep darting towards the door and then back to his phone. Everyone was already made aware about this new guest by Changbin's unstoppable rants, all of them curiously waiting for his arrival. He almost falls out of his chair when the doorbell finally rings, ready to run and welcome his friend in.
“I'll get it,” Hyunjin tells Changbin, almost running towards the door herself. An excuse to compose herself before her battle begins.
The door opens, and Hyunjin finds herself regretting that decision. Perhaps it was better if Changbin had opened it.
Hyunjin didn't know what she was picturing whenever her son had gushed about this Hyun, calling him pretty for the millionth time. Truth be told, she barely paid attention when he started with that. Still, she hadn't quite believed him, thinking surely this boy couldn't be as pretty as he claimed.
She was wrong.
The boy before her was truly too pretty. Tall, almost her height without the heels. Even dressed in a soft black sweater, long black hair tied in a half ponytail, and round glasses framing his face, there's no hiding it. There's a small mole under his left eye that matches her own.
It grates on her nerves, his beauty. She feels as if staring into a mirror, a mirror that is mocking her, reminding her of everything she once used to be.
She forces herself to stop staring, plastering on a smile. The one she gets in return is genuine,, the boy's plump, half-bitten lips widening into something both innocent and dangerous.
“Hello,” he bows politely, clutching the white plastic bag in his hands. “I'm Hyun.”
“I’m Hwang Hyunjin,” she replies. “Changbin’s mother.”
***
By the time the introductions are over, Hyunjin is relieved that she isn't the only one affected by Hyun. When she ushered him inside, everyone– with the exception of Changbin– stared at him.
He bows again, introducing himself to everyone and apologizing for being late. Changbin is by his side in a minute, grabbing the white bag–desserts, she guesses– and running to put it in the freezer.
“You’re a truly handsome man, Hyun,” Her mother-in-law says, adjusting her glasses to look at him properly. She gestures to the chair next to her, “Sit.”
Changbin grabs Hyun's hand instead, “Hyung sits with me,” and drags him towards the other end, seating him in between him and Yongbok. The latter shyly waves at him, already chatting him up.
The rest of the dinner passes away in their usual chaos. Jisung trying his best to avoid glancing at Lina while trying to act normal, Lina provoking him anyway, her in-laws both scolding and doting on the children, Changbin alternating between throwing flirty winks at Jeongin which she pointedly ignores.Chaos Hyunjin has learned to tune out.
What she couldn't tune out was Hyun, eyes drawn to him, overriding her years worth of control.
How he was nervous but confident at the same time, answering every question with practiced politeness, complimenting every dish she made, complimenting Changbin endlessly.
“I've never met a student who's so passionate and learns so quickly,” Hyun says with sincerity and Changbin nods, opening his mouth to say something.
“No talking with your mouth full, Changbin,” she scolds him lovingly.
“Sorry, eomma,” he replies, with his mouth full.
Hyunjin sighs.
“So, Hyun,” Seungmin starts. “What do you do?”
“Uh, I’m an art major,” Hyun replies, careful. “I just teach dance, part-time.”
Hyunjin nearly scoffs at that. Of course he’s an artist. Not that she’s surprised, she had smelled turpentine and paint on him the moment she had opened the door, his beautiful long fingers faintly stained with charcoal. It only irritates her further. And the more her eyes linger on them, she feels her face growing hot at something other than anger, that she can’t name. Something that spreads through her entire body, something that makes her press thighs tighter together.
Hyunjin briefly wonders if the entire night has been arranged by someone high-up-above who only exists to get off on her humiliation.
Next to her, Jisung straightens up and wraps an arm around her. “My wife owns this big gallery, but she’s also a great artist. These are all here,” He gestures to some of her paintings on the wall, paintings that he and Changbin had spent hours hanging.
Hyun takes in the art, lingering on each piece with a hungry gaze, then turns his complete attention on her,“They’re…they're beautiful. Have you done exhibitions?”
“My last one was six years ago, before Chan,” she replies, dismissively, almost bored and hoping he’ll think her rude and bitchy, hoping he'd avoid her.“I organize them now.”
Somehow, it had an opposite effect.
Any other time, Hyunjin would have been hyperaware of her husband’s wandering gaze, of Lina’s subtle flirtations, of Seungmin looking at her more than his own wife, of the way her mother-in-law looks at her with affection and pity alike. Any other time, she would have noticed when Lina’s and Jisung’s hands momentarily brush over each other and then pretended as if it didn’t happen. Any other time, she would have been delighted when she felt her husband’s arm holding her waist under the table.
Now, she feels his eyes following her every move more than she does Jisung's rings digging into her thigh, despite his firm grip. Worse, Hyunjin cannot tell what the boy is thinking, frustration taking over her whole body.
Anything that’s not Hyun, Hyun, Hyun seems to blur away into the background. Part of her wants to pull Changbin aside and forbid him from ever seeing this boy again.
Instead, she laces fingers with Jisung's hand on her lap, and prays this is their last meeting.