Love Beyond Expectations

Chapter 2: Family Ultimatums

Suho's mind couldn't help but loop back to the moment their gazes had collided. It was like breaching an invisible barrier, a momentary lapse in the unwritten etiquette of the subway. Making eye contact in this underground world was akin to a glitch in the matrix, a fleeting tear in the fabric of anonymity that cloaked each commuter.

That brief exchange had been charged with the peculiar energy of the city itself – raw, unfiltered, and unexpectedly intimate. There was an unspoken rule in these metal carriages that wound through the city's underbelly: you kept your eyes to yourself, your thoughts insular, cocooned in the private world of your headphones or the screen of your phone.

Yet, for a split second, Suho had felt an inexplicable connection with the mysterious woman who shared his daily journey. She had become a familiar part of his routine, a silent companion in the sea of faces he waded through each day. He knew nothing about her, not even her name, and yet he wondered about the constellation of stories that lay behind her observant eyes.

The idea of speaking to her seemed as outlandish as shouting one's deepest secrets for the entire car to hear. After all, who initiated introductions on a subway? No one. It was an uncharted territory, a social script that simply didn't exist within the confines of New York City's transit etiquette.

The train rumbled to another stop, the doors opened, and she was gone, blending into the crowd with the same ease as a shadow merges with the darkness. Suho felt a twinge of something – regret, perhaps, or the tantalizing sting of missed opportunity.

Finally, his own stop announced itself in the impersonal drone of the train's automated voice. He rose, feeling the weight of his coat in his hand like the weight of unvoiced questions. Stepping out into the bustling station, he was immediately swept up in the tide of the morning rush, the throng of people each ensconced in their personal bubbles of existence.

The air was thick with the scent of coffee, the clamor of hurried footsteps, and the undercurrent of a city that never truly sleeps. Here, amidst the frenetic heartbeat of Manhattan, Suho found himself adrift, the image of the woman's face lingering in his mind like a refrain from an unfinished song.

As he merged with the flow of humanity ascending towards the streets above, the subway car with its transient cast of characters became a distant memory, the stage reset for the next act in the endless drama of city life. But the echo of that unspoken exchange remained, a silent melody that hummed in the back of his mind, a reminder that life, like the subway, was full of unexpected encounters and unexplored possibilities.

The Kim family dining room was a gallery of tradition, the walls adorned with paintings that whispered tales of the homeland, while the scent of bulgogi and kimchi filled the air, a culinary symphony of spices and tenderness. Suho's father, Mr. Kim, sat ensconced at the head of the table, his body a fortress succumbing to the relentless siege of illness. Rheumatoid arthritis twisted his joints into a silent testimony of pain, while the brain cancer waged a shadowy war within.

Suho had been apprehensive about dinner all day, the leaden hours stretching like the unending chasm between expectation and reality. As he sat down, the familiar weight of familial duty pressed down upon him like the heavy silverware they used only on special occasions.

Without preamble, Mrs. Kim's voice sliced through the strained silence, her Korean accent undiluted by years of living in America. "Suho, I can't believe you're still single at your age. Your older brother, Joon, is happily married and has kids. What's wrong with you?"

Her words hung in the air, each syllable a barb hooking into Suho's skin. He sighed, a weary sound that seemed to carry the burdens of his dual existence. "Mom, it's not that simple. I'm just focused on my career right now."