Chapter 21: hunting melody

In the quiet of a dimly lit room, the air hung heavy with unspoken truths. The wedding ceremony had concluded, and the guests had departed, leaving behind an echo of footsteps and fading laughter. The bride, Yihwa, stood by the window, her white gown trailing behind her like a ghostly memory.

Across the room, Pete, leaned against the fireplace. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now held a storm of conflicting emotions. He had watched Yihwa exchange vows with his nephew, the man who he raised by himself, guided him, and now unknowingly taken the love of his life.

Yihwa's gaze met pete's, and in that moment, the world seemed to fracture. She had married for duty, for her mother, but her heart was a tangled web of regret. Pete had been her confidant, her secret solace during lonely nights. Their stolen glances, whispered promises-they were the forbidden notes of a symphony that would never be played.

"Congratulations," pete said, his voice brittle. "May your union bring you joy."

Yihwa's fingers trembled as she clutched her bouquet. "Thank you, Uncle."

He stepped closer, the firelight casting shadows on his face. "Do you remember the cherry blossoms in spring? How they painted the garden with delicate pink hues?"

She nodded, tears threatening to spill. "We used to sit there, beneath the blossoms. You'd read poetry, and I'd listen, pretending the verses were meant for me."

Pete's jaw tightened. "They were meant for you, Yihwa. Every word."

"Why didn't you speak up?" Her voice cracked. "Why did you let this happen?"

He reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Because I loved you enough to let you go. Because your happiness mattered more than my own."

He thought she married his nephew because now she doesn't love him.

Yihwa's wedding ring felt like a shackle. "And now?"

"Now," pete whispered, "I'll watch you dance with my nephew, share your bed, and pretend that my heart isn't breaking."

Outside, rain tapped against the window, a mournful rhythm. Yihwa stepped away, her veil trailing behind her. "Pete, I-"

He silenced her with a kiss-a desperate, bittersweet collision of lips. For a stolen heartbeat, they were lost in each other, drowning in the ache of what could never be.

When they broke apart, pete's eyes held a lifetime of longing. "Remember me, Yihwa. Remember us."

As the door closed behind her, Yihwa clung to the memory of cherry blossoms and whispered verses. She had married, but her heart remained entwined with Pete-the nephew she could never call her own.

And in the quiet of that room, love became a silent tragedy, echoing through the years like a haunting melody. 🌸❤️.