Family dinners are supposed to be warm.
They’re supposed to smell like home-cooked meals and sound like laughter echoing through a small dining room.
Not… this.
This table could feed a small army. Hell, it probably cost more than a small army. Crystal chandeliers glittered above like they were mocking me, and the cutlery looked sharp enough to commit a felony. Which, honestly, might still be more fun than sitting here.
---
Hong Group family dinners were legendary—for all the wrong reasons.
Imagine walking into a corporate board meeting, except instead of boring suits, everyone’s dressed like they’re going to a Met Gala, and instead of discussing stock prices, they’re dissecting your soul with polite smiles.
I took my seat next to Hae-in, who looked like a queen carved from ice. Perfect posture, flawless makeup, and that smile—the one that says I could kill you with kindness… or just kill you.
It used to be different. She used to smile at me like I mattered.
Now, her smile belonged to everyone and no one at the same time.
---
Across the table sat my mother-in-law, Madam Kwon. She was the kind of woman who could make grown CEOs cry with a single raised eyebrow. Right now, that eyebrow was aimed at Hae-in.
“Still so quiet, Hae-in,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re… happy in this marriage.”
The table stilled. Forks paused midair. Everyone leaned in like hungry wolves.
Hae-in didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just smiled politely, her tone colder than the champagne chilling in front of us.
“I’m content.”
Content.
A word that sounds safe but feels like a coffin.
---
Madam Kwon laughed softly, the kind of laugh that could peel skin.
“Content? My dear, marriage isn’t about being content. It’s about… passion. Warmth. Perhaps you should try being… softer with Hyun-woo.”
Translation: Be a better wife, or else.
The wolves around the table chuckled. One cousin smirked. Another aunt whispered something behind her hand. Every word was a needle, and I was sitting there letting her take every hit.
---
I should’ve said something.
Should’ve told them to shut the hell up.
Should’ve defended her.
But I didn’t.
Because deep down, a part of me thought… maybe they weren’t wrong.
When was the last time she touched me without obligation? When was the last time she looked at me without that mask? When was the last time we felt like a real couple instead of two actors stuck in a bad drama?
So I stayed quiet. Like a coward.
---
Hae-in’s hand rested on the table, elegant, still. I wondered if her fingers were digging into her palm under the surface. Wondered if it hurt her—or if she’d stopped feeling anything at all.
She turned to her mother slowly, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly.
“Thank you for your concern. I’ll try to… be softer.”
The sarcasm in her voice was sharp enough to cut glass. Nobody noticed—except me.
---
The conversation shifted, but the damage was done. The rest of the dinner was a blur of fake laughter and business talk. Stocks. Mergers. Money. Nothing that mattered.
I chewed food that tasted like ash, forcing smiles for the cameras in the corners of the room. Yes, cameras. Because in this family, even dinners are PR opportunities.
---
When it was finally over, I walked her out to the car. The night air was cool, but the silence between us was suffocating.
She slid into the back seat without a word. I followed. The driver started the engine, and the city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
---
I stared at her reflection in the glass.
She looked… untouchable. Like a painting in a museum. Beautiful, perfect, and surrounded by ropes that said Do Not Touch.
Finally, I spoke.
“You didn’t have to take that.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, calm and sharp.
“Take what?”
“You know what.” My voice was tighter than I wanted. “What your mother said.”
She let out a soft laugh—empty, bitter.
“Why? Did it bother you?”
“Yes.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.
“Because they were wrong?” she asked, turning fully toward me now.
“Because they had no right to talk to you like that,” I said, ignoring the part of me that wondered if they were wrong.
---
She looked at me for a long time, her gaze like frost crawling up my spine. Then she smiled that perfect, fake smile again.
“Don’t worry, Hyun-woo. I’ve been taking comments like that my whole life. I don’t need you to play hero now.”
Her tone was polite. Her eyes weren’t.
And just like that, she turned back to the window, shutting me out like a locked door.
---
The rest of the ride was silent.
Not the kind of silence you share when you’re comfortable.
The kind that feels like standing on opposite ends of a collapsing bridge.
---
Back at the mansion, she walked straight to her room without a word. The door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded louder than any scream.
I stood there in the hallway, staring at the wood like it might open if I wished hard enough.
It didn’t.
---
Later, lying in my bed, I replayed the dinner in my head like a bad courtroom drama. Every word, every glance, every second I stayed silent while she fought alone.
And I hated myself a little.
Because no matter how broken we were, no matter how cold she’d become, some part of me still wanted to protect her.
Maybe that’s the cruelest part of love.
It doesn’t die when it should.
It just lingers. Like smoke after a fire.
---
I closed my eyes, telling myself tomorrow would be different.
Knowing it wouldn’t.
---
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