𝐌𝐫. 𝐊𝐢𝐦

epilogue

2 years later...

Sitting with your mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law, while they pored over the minutiae of wedding planning, had you wishing for a simpler- straightforward civil marriage registration at a City Hall, reminiscent of Western customs, seemed increasingly appealing compared to the labyrinth of choices before you.

You never envisioned a fairytale upbringing; growing up in a modest household, your ambitions leaned toward a quiet life with an average working man in a simple apartment. But all that changed when you accepted the proposal of one of the country's wealthiest men.

The midsummer sun bore down relentlessly outside, though the cool interior of your living space provided some respite. Despite this, a dull ache throbbed at the base of your skull. You took a long sip of Green Plum tea, its tangy warmth momentarily soothing.

Mrs. Kim's recent focus on adopting a healthier lifestyle, prompted by your challenging pregnancy with your two-year-old daughter, Nami, had necessitated a delay in wedding plans. Grateful for Namjoon's support during your postpartum struggles, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension as Mrs. Kim and her entourage delved into wedding preparations with gusto.

For weeks, Namjoon had juggled his responsibilities as CEO with caregiving duties, demonstrating a commitment that bordered on self-sacrifice. His willingness to work remotely to support your recovery underscored his devotion.

'S why it's understandable for Mrs. Kim to worry this much, but you are just a grateful as she takes great care of you.

As Mrs. Kim perused color schemes and décor options, your unease grew palpable. The wedding was still four months away, yet the sudden invasion of your home by designers and staff felt overwhelming.

"I think we should wait for Joon, don't you?" you interjected tentatively, longing for your fiancé's reassuring presence.

"Trust me, dear. My son has no sense of taste. He's just like his father," Mrs. Kim chuckled, resplendent in her latest Valentino creation, a chiffon summer dress.

"The wedding isn't for another four months. Surely, we don't need to rush into decisions," you suggested, trying to temper the frenzy.

"Oh, but we must. November is notoriously busy. Besides, money isn't a problem at all, but it's best to have the advantage," Mrs. Kim replied confidently.

You have no doubt about the budget for this monumental, once-in-a-lifetime occasion, but now that you have a growing family and a little girl, it was best to be practical.

Your mother, sensing your discomfort, gently inquired, "Is it all too much for you?"

"It's just a bit overwhelming, that's all," you replied, masking your anxiety.

"Shall we reschedule, madam?" one of the tailors queried, prompting Mrs. Kim to glance at you.

Guilt gnawed at you as Mrs. Kim rose from her seat, her sadness thinly veiled. "Ladies, gentlemen, thank you, but I believe we should reconvene at a later date."

"No, that's not necessary," you kindly tell them. "Could you please give us a moment?"

You were just not expecting it to become such a big deal, but you should've expected the impossible when it was Kim Namjoon getting married to you.

"Yes, of course, madam." They bowed, following after Mrs. Han down the hall.

Apologies tumbled from Mrs. Kim's lips as she turned to you, her expression softened with understanding. "I may have been too overbearing. I only wanted to make the planning process smoother."