~~~~
"Did you go out today?" Asked Mr. Nam.
Mirae gulped and took a step back. "I went to get some medicine. And then, on the way back, I saw some perfect looking strawberries at the market, so I got us some." She rambled.
Mr. Nam looked at her with a threatening glare and took a step toward her. "You're out, frolicking around while I break my back at work all day?"
"D-did you have a bad day? Did you not make as much as you wanted?" Mirae stuttered.
His expression was completely unchanged. "All I ask is for you to be here when I get back, and yet you can't even follow one simple request?" He growled.
"I just-" She started.
"Forget it. It's clear that you care only for yourself." He spat.
Her lower lip began to tremble as he turned away, giving her the cold shoulder.
"I'll make it up to you tonight." She spat out.
He turned back briefly. "Good." He smiled.
~~~~
Mirae stood frozen at the end of the aisle, being struck by the sudden memory.
Minho gave her a concerned look, and she realized that her lower lip was actually trembling.
She looked from side to side at all the happy faces waiting for her.
Minho calmly smiled and subtly reached his hand out, urging her to come to him.
She couldn't help but cry now.
She dabbed her tears and took careful steps down the stone path until she finally reached him.
He held her hands gently as she looked up at him.
There was no selfishness in his eyes. No malice.
Sure, he was cold and mysterious at times.
But he was sincere. He was never fake. He was traditional and old-fashioned, and honestly, kind of mundane, but she liked that about him.
And sure, they had their moments, but even their worst argument stemmed from him being worried about others and not himself.
He never made her feel like it was her fault when he felt low or depressed.
He never pressured her to be the one to make him happy.
She never had to tiptoe around his moods because he only had 2 moods; kind of grumpy or kind of happy.
He was stable. Steady. Predictable. What ticked him off was never a surprise. There were no grey areas. It was always black and white.
He never took it out on her if his day didn't go well.
He didn't care about the things in her past. The things she tried so hard to hide, thinking that he would judge her. Instead, he was protective of her, but in a pure way, not a possessive way.
When she finally told him everything that day after the verdict hearing, all he said was: "Sometimes good people end up in bad situations. It wasn't your fault. You don't have to hide it from me."
And when she told him harshly that he was terrible with communicating, and she felt terrible about the way he said everything, all he said was: "I know. I'm sorry. Next time, I'll tell you if something is bothering me before it makes me mad."
Now he stood here, holding her hands and looking at her with such a pure longing, she almost felt guilty again.
Would she ever shake the feeling of not being good enough for him?
YOU ARE READING
Our Family
General Fiction*Sequel* What would it be like to be the patriarch of a family of eight boys? Christopher knows all too well. His parents were out of the picture at a young age, and since then, he's been in charge of the family. He's raised his brothers as if they...
