Part 8

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POV: Author

Amidst the ornate trappings of her family home, Hannah stood before the mirror, her eyes reflecting a mix of pain and resignation. Her mother's words, although meant to soothe, only seemed to gnaw at the wounds of her soul. Marriage, a joyous union, now felt like chains of sorrow tightly wound around her delicate frame.

"You have to look your best for your husband, dearest," her mother intoned, her gaze a mix of expectation and duty.

"Do you even care about me, mother? Do you care about my well-being at all?" Hannah's voice quivered with raw emotion, her vulnerability laid bare amidst the opulence that surrounded her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the reflection of a woman she barely recognised. The weight of her circumstances pressed down on her heart, suffocating any semblance of joy that should accompany such a momentous occasion. The forced facade of happiness was crumbling, revealing the depths of her despair.

"Why was I so miserable that I wanted to run away?" she thought. "Why did I have to look beautiful for a man I hated?" Hannah longed for a different kind of love, one born of choice and passion, rather than obligation and duty. Her heart ached for the tenderness and respect she so craved but knew she would never find in the arrangement her family had sealed for her.

As her mother enveloped her in a tender embrace, Hannah's silent cry echoed through the empty chamber of her soul. The inevitability of her plight weighed heavily on her spirit, a burden she had no choice but to bear. The path laid out before her seemed bleak, devoid of the love and companionship she yearned for.

Lost in her thoughts, Hannah journeyed back to memories of Mr Park, a beacon of light in the darkness of her existence. His presence had offered solace and distraction, a glimpse of the happiness she so desperately sought. Their fleeting moment of connection, sealed with a kiss, now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of what could never be.

"Stupid Hannah," she chastised herself, her heart torn between longing and resignation. The conflict between her desires and reality waged a silent war within her, each thought a dagger piercing her resolve.

Meanwhile, in the quiet confines of his home, Mr Park grappled with his own demons. Thoughts of Hannah, a fleeting yet profound presence in his life, haunted his every waking moment. The echoes of her touch lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the love he could never claim.

"Why have I been pondering on this topic for so long?" he mused, the weight of regret heavy on his shoulders. The ache of longing mingled with the sting of betrayal, a cocktail of emotions he struggled to contain.

In a moment of rare vulnerability, Mr Park confided in his brother, Gideon, laying bare the turmoil that churned within him. The memory of their last kiss, a forbidden yet irresistible indulgence, threatened to unravel his carefully guarded facade.

"She cheated on her soon-to-be husband with me. I was a pawn," Mr Park's words hung heavy in the air, a bitter lament of a love lost and a heart betrayed. The sting of betrayal seared through him, leaving behind a trail of fractured trust and shattered dreams.

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