Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

53. Merry Christmas

We're about to leave for Jaemin's mansion. His parents are throwing a Christmas bash.

I haven't seen my in-laws since our hasty marriage. I haven't seen my parents, either, but that's because they are in sunny Hawaii, and don't appear to be in any hurry to come home to see me, or their new son-in-law, any time soon. Honestly? I don't want to see my mother, either; she was the master strategist who planted The Grand Plan in my head, and like a good little foot soldier, I carried it out. I am more like my mother than I think; the thought is depressing.

I sigh, long and deep.

"Hey," Jaemin strides in, his phone in his hand. "What's with the long face?"

"Your parents must hate me. Your dad, especially." I feel stricken.

"Ah," he grins. "Your conscience weighing on you, you little schemer?"

I hang my head, stare at my toes. He laughs.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself," he says blandly. "You'll get over it real soon, and be back to your normal, unrepentant self." He pulls me in for a hug, and a quick kiss on the lips. "The limo's here. They just called me. Let's go down."

"Come here," he says, softly in the limo. He pats his lap. I climb into it morosely, and he holds me, rocking me gently like I am a child. "It's okay. You've got me, remember?" He kisses the top of my head. "I'll be right there by your side."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He's holding my hand when his mum opens the door.

"Jaemin," she says, smiling, and turns to me, folding me into a hug. "Haeri, dear. Welcome home." She's so soft and warm I almost want to cry.

"Auntie," I mumble.

"Mum," she says, smiling. "Call me Mum."

"Okay, Mum," I smile at her, misty-eyed. She's a lovely person. Why can't my mother be more like her? But Jaemin is pushing me gently forward, his hand on the small of my back, and the butterflies in my stomach are settling, and I feel something unfurling in my heart, and to my surprise, I think it is...happiness. Like I'm not an unwanted interloper. Like I actually...belong.

I shove a big mouthful of tiramisu in my mouth, pretending to be interested in the delicious dessert, but out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Jaemin's dad laughs at something a distinguished- looking man with bushy eyebrows - I think he's the Foreign Minister - is recounting.

I was introduced to the guests earlier as "Our daughter-in-law", and if anyone is shocked, they're too polite to say anything. Or, maybe they already know the whole sordid story, courtesy of Mrs. Takeda.

Jaemin is sitting next to me.The hollows of his cheeks are delicious, and his brow is creased in concentration as he listens attentively to what an elegant woman is telling him across the dining table.

Some girl on his left taps his shoulder - hey, bitch, keep your hands off my husband, I almost snarl - and she looks googly-eyed at him but he nods absently to whatever she asks. She lifts her hand and says something in his ear, and he reaches out, and passes her a glass of iced water. I feel an awful pang seeing him offering a glass of water to someone else.

The girl keeps talking to him, and I see his mouth twist into a smile. I look away. I reach out for my own glass of iced water and gulp down the water savagely. I set the glass down so hard the water splashes out. There's a damp patch on the white lacy tablecloth, and it's spreading out in a circle, fast.

And then I feel something warm on my thigh, and I look down, and it's Jaemin's hand.

Jaemin's big hand squeezes my thigh, slowly, under the table.