Chapter 70: A Bitter Wedding

“It’s alright. They’ll make up soon enough.”

Yoonwoo reached out, gently patting Yeon-chae’s cheek. However, Yeon-chae shook his head, his face crestfallen.

“No, that’s not it. Mom and my stepfather have no problems. It’s not that…”

As Yeon-chae hesitated, the banquet hall grew boisterous. Their families had all arrived, and Yeon-chae’s complexion dimmed as he stared blankly at them, each waving towards Yoonwoo and him.

Following Yeon-chae’s gaze to the entrance, Yoonwoo finally noticed a tall, unfamiliar figure standing behind his own family.

The wedding proceeded quietly. Without a celebrant, led only by an emcee, it felt more like a small gathering than a formal ceremony.

Yoonwoo’s parents, who had long since rekindled their old friendship, exchanged conversation with Yeon-chae’s mother in warm, familiar tones. The problem, however, was the man seated beside Yeon-chae’s mother—a face both unfamiliar yet strangely recognizable.

“Yeon-chae really takes after his father, doesn’t he? I didn’t notice it as much when he was little.”

Yoonwoo’s mother was the first to speak, her words an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Yet, the topic she chose proved unfortunate, for no sooner had her words finished than Yeon-chae’s mother’s elegant eyebrows twitched.

Yeon-chae’s father, completely unperturbed, acknowledged his former neighbor’s comment, feigning ignorance of his ex-wife’s icy expression.

“He’s been growing to resemble me more and more as he gets older. Just like I was when I was young, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh? W-well, perhaps so…”

Noticing the real-time hardening of Yeon-chae’s mother’s expression, Yoonwoo’s mother trailed off. Yoonwoo subtly shook his head at his mother, a silent plea for her to remain quiet.

“How many times have you even seen him to say he’s growing to resemble you?”

A sharp voice, matching the grating sound of a knife against a plate, echoed through the room. The banquet hall instantly fell silent, as if holding its breath.

Yeon-chae’s father, however, maintained his perfectly composed demeanor.

“If you’d shown him to me, I would have seen him. How was I supposed to meet him when you hid him away so thoroughly?”

“Is that how much you cared about him, by walking out on his birthday?”

“Who was it that drove me out, only to say such things now?”

Yoonwoo’s parents exchanged troubled glances. Thanks to their long-ago experience as neighbors and their recent interactions, they were well aware of the strained relationship between Yeon-chae’s parents, who had divorced over a decade prior.

Still, they could not have anticipated that a grudge festering for more than ten years would erupt during Yeon-chae’s wedding. The atmosphere in the banquet hall turned chillingly hostile in an instant.

Yoonwoo cast a worried glance at Yeon-chae. Pale and drawn, Yeon-chae could only stare fixedly at the steak plate before him.

Yeon-chae’s father’s taunts continued.

“So, is that why you didn’t even tell me about his wedding, just conveniently leaving me out?”

“What nerve do you have to even show up at this wedding?”

“Why shouldn’t I be here? Why can’t I attend my own son’s wedding? Am I supposed to learn the date of my son’s wedding from an invitation?”

Yeon-chae’s mother had not invited her ex-husband to the wedding. It seemed his father, having received an invitation belatedly through Yeon-chae, was now deeply displeased.

As a child, Yoonwoo had often heard the sounds of arguments emanating from the house next door. Even though both individuals were kind and gentle, loud voices were a constant fixture from that home.

Whenever it happened, the little boy from next door would emerge alone, sitting blankly by the emergency staircase. Even when Yoonwoo’s mother tried to lead him inside, the child would curl up, refusing to move.

Gazing at Yeon-chae’s now pale cheeks, Yoonwoo found himself recalling those early memories. Yeon-chae had grown considerably, his appearance having changed so much that little trace of his childhood self remained.

Yet, in his tightly pressed lips and downcast eyes, Yoonwoo could easily discern echoes of the past. It felt ironic that he hadn’t recognized Yeon-chae at all before their initial family meeting, given how frequently old memories had recently resurfaced.

Whenever loud noises erupted, Yeon-chae would lean his small body against Yoonwoo. He refused to leave the emergency staircase, seemingly fearing that if he moved, his mom or dad might disappear.

So, Yoonwoo would cover Yeon-chae’s ears with his palms. Occasionally, when Yoonwoo sang, Yeon-chae would even offer a faint smile.

While Yoonwoo’s songs couldn’t entirely drown out the arguments from next door, they were enough to capture Yeon-chae’s attention.

Each time such memories resurfaced, a bitter taste filled Yoonwoo’s mouth. ‘Couldn’t they have just held back today, of all days?’ he thought, a sharp resentment beginning to prickle within him.

Just as his frustration peaked, Yeon-chae’s parents, belatedly realizing the inappropriateness of the time and place, finally fell silent. Thanks to their quietude, the atmosphere managed to calm down, and the remainder of the wedding proceeded awkwardly.

“You both worked hard today. Yoonwoo, you must be tired, so go on in and get some rest.”

After the wedding concluded, Yeon-chae’s mother, her face etched with apology, stroked Yoonwoo’s shoulder. In the distance, Yeon-chae’s father appeared to be apologizing to Yoonwoo’s parents.

After bidding farewell to their families, Yoonwoo took Yeon-chae’s wrist and headed straight for their newlywed home.

The sound of footsteps plodding behind him echoed heavily. His eyes kept growing hot, so Yoonwoo pressed the back of his hand firmly against his eyelids.

It had been a chaotic wedding, a disaster. Yeon-chae had looked forward to this day with such excited anticipation. Yoonwoo had wanted to create joyful memories, but all that remained was an awkwardly shattered atmosphere and the wedding cake clutched in his hand.

“The whipped cream is really delicious. You should try some.”

Yoonwoo appeared before Yeon-chae, who was sitting forlornly on the emergency staircase. Yeon-chae looked up at Yoonwoo with sorrowful eyes.

Unable to carry the entire massive wedding cake, Yoonwoo had cut out two slices and brought them on a plate.

Yeon-chae stared blankly at Yoonwoo’s bright, clear face. Instead of answering Yoonwoo’s bewildered, unspoken question, ‘Why?’, Yeon-chae wiped a piece of cake from Yoonwoo’s cheek with his index finger, then popped it into his mouth and sucked on it.

Yoonwoo flustered, asking if it had been there, before his eyebrows drooped in resignation.

“Ugh, why would you eat that…?”

The taste of the cake was different from what Yeon-chae had expected. It was highly unlikely that a cake Yoonwoo liked would suit Yeon-chae’s palate, as Yeon-chae detested sweets while Yoonwoo preferred an intensely sugary flavor that made his mouth tingle.

However, the small bite Yeon-chae had just tasted was not sweet at all; it was surprisingly plain.

“It’s delicious.”

Yeon-chae smiled faintly and nodded, and only then did Yoonwoo’s face brighten.

‘I don’t really like cake anyway, so just order whatever you want, Hyung.’

The memory of his casual answer to Yoonwoo’s question about what kind of wedding cake they should order flashed through Yeon-chae’s mind. Surprisingly, it seemed Yoonwoo had requested a less sweet cake when placing the order.

Yeon-chae had never imagined Yoonwoo would forgo sweetness to accommodate his preferences. His mood lifted considerably more than before.

He scooped a generous portion of cake and put it in his mouth. A plain, savory flavor spread throughout his palate.

“It’s quite palatable, being so plain.”

At the age of seven, before he could even properly enjoy his birthday cake, Yeon-chae had heard the news of his parents’ divorce. From that day on, he hadn’t been able to properly eat anything sweet.

Yet, the cake he tasted now, after so long, wasn’t repulsive like his old memories. Perhaps it was because he was sitting beside Yoonwoo on the emergency staircase, eating it together.

Having left his steak untouched at the wedding, Yeon-chae now felt a sudden surge of hunger. He busily plied his fork, and the plate, once holding the cake slices, was soon empty.

“You’re eating well. That’s a relief.”

“Yes… it was delicious.”

Yoonwoo smiled, his eyes crinkling with relief. It was the same expression as the nine-year-old Yoonwoo who, fourteen years ago, had eaten Yeon-chae’s birthday cake all by himself and then laughed.

A sudden impulse surged through him. Yeon-chae reached out his arms towards Yoonwoo. With the sudden force of the embrace, Yoonwoo’s lithe body was swiftly pulled into Yeon-chae’s arms.

The empty plate clattered to the floor, rolling down the steps.

Yeon-chae buried his face in Yoonwoo’s shoulder. As a recessive, Yoonwoo typically emitted no pheromone scent. However, when Yeon-chae leaned his cheek against him and inhaled deeply, a faint, soft, fresh scent of milk wafted up.

Yoonwoo, who seemed momentarily flustered, soon placed a hand on Yeon-chae’s back. The warmth of his palm, stroking Yeon-chae’s back, spread deep into his chest.

“Yeon-chae.”

It was a gentle voice. The kindness, like that shown to a younger sibling, felt infinitely comforting yet simultaneously disheartening, leaving Yeon-chae unable to respond.

Fourteen years ago, after finishing the cake Yeon-chae had offered, Yoonwoo had loudly declared he would marry Yeon-chae and take care of him forever. Today, Yoonwoo had, in a way, kept that promise.

‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

For the first time since meeting Yoonwoo, Yeon-chae regretted the promise he had extracted that day, swallowing back his tears. A hot, watery sensation kept rising in his throat, making him choke up.

Instead of asking him to marry him, he should have asked him to love him. If he had, perhaps they wouldn’t be in this hollow marriage, but rather in a normal relationship.

“Yeon-chae, let’s get up. Let’s go home.”

Despite everything, the tenderness in Yoonwoo’s voice was comforting. So Yeon-chae bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to suppress its persistent tremble.

There was only one bed in the bedroom. The furniture and electronics for the house had all been chosen by their mothers, who had sent only a single matrimonial bed for Yeon-chae and Yoonwoo to share.

Yoonwoo realized this obvious fact only after finishing his shower and preparing to lie down, freezing on the spot.

The sound of running water came from inside the shower room connected to the bedroom. Yeon-chae was taking a shower.

Yoonwoo stared blankly at the shower room door, clenching and unclenching his fists several times. Only after wiping his sweaty palms on his robe did he finally steel his resolve.

‘It’s just like sleeping with a younger brother, what’s the big deal?’