A Marriage Bound By Secrets || Kim Taehyung

7.

Chapter 7.

Y/N's pov

Time had flown by, and now it was the day for wedding dress shopping. Originally, I thought I could go with my friend Hana and keep it low-key. However, Mrs. Kim and mother had other plans. They insisted on tagging along, along with Taehyung, and we ended up at a high-end wedding dress boutique.

As our parents sifted through the racks of dresses, I casually took a seat beside Taehyung, idly scrolling through my phone. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed occupied with his own business matters, which I couldn't be bothered to inquire about.

"Darling, what kind of dress would you like?" Mrs. Kim asked me, her warm smile contrasting with her son's perpetually distant demeanor.

I returned her smile, appreciating her friendly nature. It was a far cry from Taehyung, who always seemed to have a stick up his ass.

"I prefer something simple, but I trust your taste. Whatever you choose for me, I'm sure I'll love it," I replied, maintaining a pleasant expression. Taehyung let out a scoff beside me.

"Stop pretending to be humble," he muttered, clearly irritated.

I looked at him, perplexed. What had I done to earn such hate from him? It felt like he despised me for merely existing. Well, the feeling was mutual.

Ignoring his comment seemed to aggravate him further.

"Mom, there will be a lot of influential people attending, and I don't want our wedding to appear cheap and ordinary," Taehyung declared, directing his words at his mother.

Mrs. Kim glanced uncomfortably between the two of us but remained silent. My own mother gazed at me apologetically.

What did they expect? That we would instantly fall in love once we learned of the arranged marriage? This reaction, filled with animosity, was the more probable outcome, not love.

"Would you like to try this one on? I think it would look stunning on you," a sales assistant approached me, holding an elegant yet understated dress. I smirked, glancing at Taehyung.

"Yes, please," I replied, my smile widening. I followed her into the showroom.

Truthfully, the dress didn't captivate me much, but I was eager to wear it just to prove to Taehyung that simplicity could also be beautiful.

As I stepped into the fitting room, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The sales assistant helped me slip into the dress, adjusting it to fit perfectly. As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement. The dress did have an undeniable charm to it, its clean lines accentuating my figure and giving off an aura of elegance.

As I stepped out of the fitting room, Taehyung's gaze fell upon me, and for a moment, I saw a hint of surprise in his eyes. It quickly vanished, replaced by a mask of indifference.

"It's... fine," he remarked nonchalantly, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

I could sense his internal struggle between his desire for extravagance and his acknowledgment of the dress's appeal.

Mrs. Kim, on the other hand, was beaming with joy. "Oh, Y/N, you look absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, her eyes brimming with pride.

"Simple yet sophisticated. It's perfect for you," Mom praised.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their words. It was as if I had proven a point, showing that simplicity could indeed be beautiful and captivating. I smirked looking at Taehyung.

As the shopping trip continued, I tried on various other dresses, each one showcasing a different style and design. Some were opulent and extravagant, while others had a touch of whimsy and romance. However, I found myself drawn back to the simplicity and grace of the first dress I had tried on.

Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed uninterested in the entire process, his mind undoubtedly preoccupied with his own concerns. He occasionally glanced in my direction, his eyes lingering for a fleeting moment before he averted his gaze.

Our interaction remained limited to fleeting glances and awkward silences throughout the shopping trip. It was evident that we were awkward.

Taehyung occasionally slid his arms across my waist when the sales assistants and some of the staff were in our presence and tore his hand off me when they left.

He said he wanted to show the outside world that we were marrying out of love to protect his darn non existent reputation. Cue eye roll.

As the day came to a close, we left the boutique with a few potential choices for the wedding dress. Mrs. Kim insisted on purchasing all of them, wanting me to have options and ensuring no compromise was made in terms of quality and luxury.

I couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and discomfort. On one hand, I appreciated Mrs. Kim's generosity and dedication to making the wedding perfect. On the other hand, I just didn't like it. The fact that this wedding is just some business deal and they are spending so much time on something so unnecessary. They weren't aware that we were going to divorce soon.

Taehyung discreetly wrapped his arm around my waist as we made our way towards the reception to finalize the arrangements. Most of the planning had been taken care of by Mrs. Kim and my mother, but we were required to be present, putting on a facade of interest in this absurd marriage.

"You know, you don't have to hold onto me," I remarked, questioning the unwritten rule that couples should constantly cling to each other.

"Don't want to take any chances," Taehyung replied with indifference.

"Chances of what? Your non-existent love life?" I retorted, irritation seeping into my words as his grip on my waist tightened.

Taehyung's hold became even more forceful, almost causing me to yelp in pain. The nerve of this guy. In response, I dug my heels into his feet, smirking. If he wanted to play dirty, I would do the same.

"Fuck, that hurts," Taehyung whispered through clenched teeth, his annoyance evident.

He still didn't release his grip on my waist, now even tighter, and I refused to remove my heel from his feet.

Let's see who would emerge victorious.

"Taehyung, get the car ready," his mother called out to him, breaking the tension, and he finally let go of my waist.

I had won, and a satisfied smirk adorned my face as I pressed a bit harder before releasing him. He glared at me, silently expressing his anger by flipping me off, and I responded by discreetly returning the gesture.

Why did he have to be so childish?