MY UNLOVED HUSBAND ✓

t w o

I stood in front of the mirror, looking at myself in my wedding dress. The white lace clung to my body, and I felt trapped in a life I didn't choose. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. I tried to stop my tears and calm my racing heart.

The room smelled like fresh flowers, and the only sound was the rustling of my dress. My mother stood in the corner, her eyes full of silent apologies. She tried to help me, but my father's decision was final. I glanced at the door, hoping for a miracle but knowing it wouldn't come. My sister, Rami, maybe recognized my helplessness, she looked at me and I don't know why, I saw some tears tingling in her eyes. She came towards me and hugged me, "I know this is not going to be easy for you," She whispered softly, "But I am here, Don't you ever forget that." I chuckled at her words, Only if my father could understand me.

"Jisoo, it's time," my father's voice called from the hallway. He walked in, his face stern and unyielding. There was no softness, no understanding. He had decided, and nothing would change his mind.

"Yes, Father," I whispered, barely audible. My heart pounded as I took one last look at myself. The girl in the mirror looked back at me with fear and resignation. I took a deep breath, trying to find some strength.

Walking down the aisle felt like walking toward my doom. The chapel was decorated with flowers and candles, creating a beautiful setting that felt wrong. Guests watched, their faces blurred, some curious, some pitying. My father stood tall, his eyes fixed on the altar where Jungkook waited.

The ceremony passed in a blur. I barely heard the words, the vows. Jungkook stood beside me, a calm presence in the chaos. He looked at me with warm, understanding eyes, and for a moment, I felt hope. But the weight of my father's decision crushed it.

When the priest declared us husband and wife, I felt detached. Jungkook's hand was warm in mine, his grip gentle. When he leaned in to kiss me, it was brief and respectful, but I turned my face slightly, allowing only a faint brush of our lips. The guests applauded, unaware of the storm inside me.

Finally, it was over. We were married. Jungkook and I left the venue in silence, the reality of our new life settling around us like a heavy fog. The car ride to our apartment was quiet, filled with unspoken words. I stared out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur of lights and shadows.

We arrived at the apartment, and Jungkook opened the door for me, his gesture gentle and respectful. I stepped inside, feeling the strangeness of the place. It was beautifully decorated, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. The living room was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and comfortable furniture that seemed to beckon relaxation. But I could find no solace here.

"Jisoo," Jungkook said softly, breaking the silence. "I know this isn't what you wanted. I just want you to know that I respect you and your feelings. I won't force anything on you. We can take this at your pace."

His words felt like a slap in the face. I turned to him, my eyes blazing with anger. "Don't pretend to care, Jungkook. You agreed to this farce just as much as my father did. I don't need your fake kindness."

He looked taken aback, hurt flashing briefly in his eyes before he composed himself. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said quietly. "But I'm here if you need anything."

I scoffed, brushing past him. "I don't need anything from you," I muttered, making my way to the bedroom. The room was cozy and inviting, a stark contrast to the coldness I had felt at home. But it did little to soothe the anger and frustration boiling inside me.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, the reality of the day washed over me in a wave of emotions. I was exhausted, but my mind was too restless to find any peace. I heard Jungkook moving around the apartment, his footsteps careful and deliberate, as if he were trying not to disturb me.

I looked around the bedroom, taking in the details. The bed was large and covered with a plush duvet, the kind that promised warmth and comfort. There was a dresser against one wall, a mirror above it reflecting the room's soft lighting. A door led to what I assumed was an en-suite bathroom. Everything was perfect, meticulously arranged, yet it all felt foreign and uninviting.

I changed out of my wedding dress, folding it carefully and placing it on a chair. The silk felt heavy in my hands, a tangible reminder of the day's events. I pulled on a pair of comfortable pajamas and sat back on the bed, my mind still racing. The anger I felt toward Jungkook and my father mingled with a deep sense of helplessness.

A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts. "Jisoo, can I come in?" Jungkook's voice was gentle, almost hesitant.

I didn't respond immediately, torn between wanting to shut him out and the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, he could understand. "Fine," I said finally, my voice devoid of emotion.

Jungkook entered, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. He placed it on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "I thought you might want something to help you relax," he said, his eyes meeting mine with genuine concern.

I eyed the tea suspiciously before taking a cup. The warmth seeped into my hands, and I took a tentative sip. The familiar taste of chamomile filled my mouth, bringing a small measure of comfort despite myself. "Thank you," I said grudgingly, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction than necessary.

He nodded, sipping his own tea. The silence between us was heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid. "Jisoo, I know this situation is far from ideal," he began, his voice steady but soft. "But I want to make the best of it. I want to be here for you, to support you in any way I can."

I set my cup down, my irritation flaring again. "Support me? By agreeing to marry me against my will? By standing by while my father forced me into this?"

Jungkook sighed, his expression one of patient resignation. "I didn't agree to this lightly. I had my own reservations, but I thought... I thought maybe we could find a way to make it work. I hoped that in time, you might see that I genuinely care about your well-being."

I shook my head, tears of frustration welling up. "You don't understand, Jungkook. This isn't something that can just be fixed with time and kindness. I feel like I've lost all control over my life."

He reached out, his hand hovering just above mine before pulling back. "I can't change what your father decided, but I can promise you that I will never force you into anything. You have control here, Jisoo. Over our relationship, over your choices in this apartment. I want you to feel safe and respected."

For a moment, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that he could be the anchor I needed in this storm. But the betrayal I felt from my father's decision was too raw, too overpowering. "I just need time," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," Jungkook replied, his eyes filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need."

He stood up, giving me a small, encouraging smile before leaving the room. As the door closed behind him, I let out a shuddering breath. The day's events had left me drained, yet sleep felt elusive. I lay down, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together a future that didn't feel like a prison.

This was the beginning of a new chapter in my life, but it wasn't one I had chosen. And no amount of Jungkook's so-called respect was going to change that.