Can't Escape 3

Seven

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As she waited, each passing minute felt like an eternity. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound her own breathing. She was dressed and ready, the dress Taehyung had chosen fitting perfectly, its elegant lines contrasting starkly with the bruises she had tried to conceal.

A part of her was still in disbelief. Taehyung had never shown any inclination to bring her to his social events. She had always been kept in the background, a shadow in his life. His world of public image and power was separate from her reality of fear and isolation.

The thought that she might be seeing her parents for the first time in years both terrified and excited her. They had been so hopeful when she married Taehyung, believing that he would provide a stable and loving life for her. How could she face them now, knowing how far from that ideal her reality had become?

A door creaked open upstairs, and she heard Taehyung's footsteps descending the staircase. Her heart pounded in her chest as she adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, trying to calm her nerves. When he appeared, he was impeccably dressed, his expression unreadable as he looked her over.

"You look presentable," he said, his tone cool and detached. There was no trace of the rage she had faced the night before, only a distant appraisal, as if she were an accessory to his outfit rather than his wife.

"Thank you," she replied softly, her voice barely audible. She dared not look him in the eye for too long, fearing that any hint of defiance or emotion might provoke him.

He extended his arm, and she took it, feeling the weight of his control in the simple gesture. They walked out to the car, the driver opening the door for them with a deferential nod. She slid into the seat, the leather cold against her skin, and waited as Taehyung settled beside her.

The drive was silent. Taehyung stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. She glanced at him occasionally, trying to read his mood, but his face was a mask, giving nothing away. The city lights blurred past as they made their way to the venue, her anxiety growing with each passing moment.

When they arrived, the grandeur of the venue was overwhelming. A large, historic building, its stone facade illuminated by ornate lanterns, stood before them. The entrance was bustling with people, elegantly dressed and chatting animatedly as they made their way inside.

Taehyung guided her through the crowd, his grip on her arm firm but not painful. She forced herself to smile, her heart pounding as they entered the main hall. It was a grand room, filled with chandeliers and adorned with flowers, the air buzzing with laughter and conversation.

She recognized many faces—local politicians, business leaders, and their spouses—all mingling and exchanging pleasantries. As the mayor's wife, she was expected to know these people, to smile and engage in polite conversation. Yet she felt like an outsider, her role nothing more than a façade.

Taehyung led her to a small group of people, his expression shifting to one of polite interest. He introduced her, his voice smooth and practiced. "This is my wife," he said, his arm still around her waist. "She doesn't usually attend these events, but I thought tonight might be a good opportunity for her to meet everyone."

She smiled and nodded, offering polite greetings to the people around them. They responded with warmth, their attention briefly shifting to her before returning to Taehyung. She listened to their conversations, feeling a sense of detachment, as if she were watching from a distance rather than participating.

Throughout the evening, Taehyung kept her close, his hand never leaving her arm. His behavior was meticulously controlled, each gesture calculated to project the image of a caring husband. Yet she knew better. The charming façade he presented to the world was a stark contrast to the reality she faced behind closed doors.

As they mingled, she spotted her parents across the room. They were talking to another couple, their expressions animated. Her heart ached at the sight of them, a wave of longing and guilt washing over her. She wanted to run to them, to tell them everything, but the fear of Taehyung's reaction kept her rooted in place.

He noticed her gaze and followed it to her parents. His grip tightened slightly, a silent warning. "You can speak to them," he said quietly, his voice low. "But remember our rules. No mention of anything that isn't positive."

She nodded, swallowing hard. With Taehyung at her side, she approached her parents, forcing a smile as they turned to greet her.

"Mom, Dad," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's good to see you."

Her mother's eyes lit up, and she reached out to embrace her. "Oh, sweetheart, it's been too long!" she exclaimed. Her father nodded, his smile warm but tinged with concern.

Taehyung stepped forward, his demeanor impeccably polite. "It's a pleasure to see you both again," he said smoothly. "I thought it was time we all caught up."

Her father nodded, his eyes briefly meeting hers before looking away. "We've missed seeing you," he said, his tone carefully neutral. There was an unspoken question in his eyes, a concern he dared not voice in front of Taehyung.

Her mother's embrace lingered a moment too long, conveying warmth and concern. "We think about you often," she said softly, her voice tinged with a worry that her polite smile couldn't hide. The unspoken tension hung in the air, a palpable reminder of the distance that had grown between them.

Taehyung's hand remained on her arm, a silent reminder of his control. "She's been wonderful," he interjected smoothly. "A great support in all my endeavors."

Her parents exchanged a glance, their smiles strained. They had once believed in the fairy tale Taehyung had spun, but the subtle shifts in her demeanor, the shadows in her eyes, told them a different story now. They could sense that something was off, even if they couldn't pinpoint what.

Her father cleared his throat. "We're proud of you," he said, his voice steady but his eyes searching her face for signs of the daughter they had once known. "We hope you're... happy."

She forced a smile, feeling the familiar sting of tears she dared not shed. "I am," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... busy."

The conversation drifted into safer territory—current events, local gossip—but she could feel her parents' silent questions, their desperate need to know the truth, pulsing beneath the surface. Each minute felt like an hour as she maintained the façade, her heart aching with the strain of pretending.

Finally, Taehyung gave a polite nod and began to guide her away. "We should circulate," he said, his tone a dismissal. "It's been lovely seeing you both."

Her mother's hand tightened briefly on hers. "We'll talk soon, dear," she said, her eyes conveying a promise that words couldn't.

As they moved through the crowd, Taehyung's grip loosened slightly, but his control over her remained unyielding. "You did well," he murmured, his voice low. "Remember, it's all about appearances."

She nodded, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. The evening continued, a blur of faces and forced conversations, her interactions mechanical and hollow. The grandeur of the venue, the glittering chandeliers, the laughter—it all felt like a cruel mockery of her own life.

To be continued.
Sorry I literally drafted the chapter thinking it was updated.
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