They say time flies when you're having fun.
Taeyeon isn't sure how much fun she's having but the past six months flew by just like that and, much to her amazement, Tiffany's still with her, sharing her penthouse.
She never shows her growing fondness of the woman, always maintaining the same attitude towards her although they continue to spend most of their free time together. Yes, she has told her a lot about herself and her life but she skips the dark, unhappy stories out of consideration for the woman. The last thing she wants is to keep reminding Tiffany of her family and what they had done to her.
Today has been another long day at work and she can't wait to go home and see her roommate. They have been texting a lot more than usual today—Tiffany said that today was surprisingly a slow day at work—and made a deal to order junk food for dinner. Tiffany even said that she'd get new ice cream flavors on her way home, to add to their current stock.
Taeyeon's halfway through tidying up her desk when her phone rings and "She wears Prada" flashes on the screen—the name she saved her mother's number under because simply putting "the devil" would be too straightforward and dangerous.
Sighing, she answers the call and puts it on speaker so that her hands are free to continue working. "Hello?"
"Are you home?"
"Not yet. Why?" she asks curtly, wary that they're going to come visit her and Tiffany again.
"How are things with Tiffany?" asks her mother. "It's been six months."
"The usual," she nonchalantly answers.
"Taeyeon..."
"I'm serious, Mother. Nothing has changed and nothing will change. She doesn't like me that way."
"She doesn't have to like you that way. Love can grow. As long as she doesn't hate you, it can grow."
She rolls her eyes and refuses to reply.
"The Grand Hyatt ballroom is available on Valentine's Day. It's a weekday, unfortunately, but I don't mind. We can work with it," continues the woman.
That immediately halts her movements as she frowns and turns towards the phone. "What are you talking about?"
"The wedding. Valentine's Day would be perfect."
"That's way too soon!"
"It's five months away. You'd have a year by then," states her mother matter-of-factly.
"You said I was free to decide when!"
"I also said that you should not take too long," replies the woman calmly. "A year is plenty."
"A year is definitely not plenty! You uprooted her entire life in a day! She'd need more time to adjust!" she argues then lowers her tone once she remembers who's she dealing with. "Please give her more time," she pleads with as much dignity she can maintain. It's not in her nature to beg but this is different. Tiffany's well-being is on the line.
The woman becomes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, as if surprised by her daughter's reply, but then continues to say, "How much more time? We want a deadline."
"I can't exactly rush it, can I? You abruptly broke her engagement to the man she loved, the man she had dated for years! It's not easy to get over that let alone marry someone else that she doesn't love."
"Love will gro-..."
"But it still takes time," she interjects. "I'll let you know when, okay? I have to finish something urgent now. Talk to you later, Mother," she says, quickly ending the phone call.
