The Kim mansion shimmered under the soft evening lights, every corner glowing with celebration. Delicate white lilies lined the marble staircase, and the air carried the faint scent of roses and champagne. A string quartet played something warm and elegant in the background, their music blending seamlessly with the soft hum of conversation and laughter.
Though it was meant to be a small private gathering, the guest list spoke otherwise. A few of Suho's close business associates were there, the kind of people whose confidence filled a room effortlessly, along with members of the elite circle who had long-standing ties with the Kim family.
The women were dressed in shimmering gowns, the men in perfectly tailored suits. Every smile was polite, every gesture measured; it was a world Hauen had never truly belonged to, but one she was learning to navigate, step by step.
Outside, the car stopped smoothly at the mansion gate. Mr. Lee got out first and opened the door for them.
Suho stepped out first, offering his hand to Hauen. She took it, her heart fluttering nervously as she looked up at the grand house before them, the glow of chandeliers spilling through the tall windows, laughter echoing faintly even from outside.
Hauen inhaled deeply. "There are so many people…" she whispered under her breath.
Suho heard her. His fingers tightened around hers, a reassuring squeeze. He hadn't let go of her hand since they'd left the penthouse, and he didn't plan to. He turned to her with a small, comforting smile.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his thumb brushing her knuckles gently. "I'm right here. Just stay close."
She nodded, her eyes softening as she looked at him, calm, confident, completely at ease. Somehow, his steadiness anchored her own.
He tilted his head slightly, smiling. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's go."
Together, they walked up the steps and into the mansion.
The moment they crossed the doorway, the entire hall went dark.
Hauen paused, glancing around with wide eyes. "Suho…?" she whispered.
He frowned lightly, about to call someone when,
Bang!
The lights burst back to life. A rain of shimmering confetti fell from above, glittering gold and silver under the chandeliers.
"Happy anniversary to the lovely couple!" The entire room erupted in cheers and applause.
Hauen blinked, startled, then laughed softly, her hand still clasped in Suho's. He looked equally taken aback for a second, but the next moment, a wide grin spread across his face.
They stood there under the sparkling cascade, eyes meeting for a brief second, her cheeks flushed, his gaze warm and full of quiet affection.
And then, through the crowd, Haraboji appeared.
The old man's steps were slow but steady, his eyes glistening the moment he saw Suho standing tall on his own, a sight that still tugged at his heart no matter how many times he saw it. He reached them, voice trembling with emotion.
"Happy anniversary, my kids," he said softly.
Suho's throat tightened, and he immediately stepped forward, embracing his grandfather tightly. Hauen joined, her hand resting gently on Haraboji's back as the three shared a tender, wordless moment.
When Haraboji finally pulled back, he cupped Suho's face, his eyes misty. "How are you doing, my boy?"
Suho smiled brightly, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. "Amazing, Haraboji."
And he truly looked it, radiant, confident, his happiness almost boyish. Haraboji's chest swelled with pride.
Then his gaze shifted to Hauen. He reached for her hands, his voice softer. "Thank you, darling… thank you for staying by his side and never giving up on him."
Hauen shook her head gently, smiling. "Please don't thank me, Haraboji. He's my husband. I love him."
Suho's smile deepened at her words, his eyes flickering to her with a warmth that only she could bring out in him. He took her hand again, holding it proudly.
Haraboji's smile widened through his tears. "God bless you both," he said, his voice thick with affection. "Stay happy, stay healthy. That's all this old man prays for."
"Thank you, Haraboji," they said together.
Soon after, one by one, family members gathered around, Suho's parents, cousins, aunts, Hauen's parents, each offering hugs, laughter, and blessings. Even the guests, with their polished charm, came forward to congratulate the couple, offering smiles, handshakes, and polite compliments.
Crystal glasses clinked softly as champagne was poured. Soft jazz floated through the air now, and the room glowed even warmer, fairy lights twinkling across the garden view beyond the open French doors. A few guests gathered near the piano, and others chatted in small circles with wine in hand.
Hauen's nerves began to melt slowly under the rhythm of it all, the chatter, the laughter, Suho's hand that never left hers. He occasionally leaned close to whisper something funny, making her smile between greetings.
And for the first time that evening, she felt like she truly belonged, not because she fit into this glittering world, but because Suho made her feel that she did.
The celebration had begun to flow with warmth and laughter. Waiters moved gracefully with trays of wine and desserts while the pianist in the corner played something soft and romantic.
Suho stood tall beside Hauen, one hand almost always resting against her back as if to remind himself she was real. Every time someone called his name or came forward to greet him, his gaze would still find its way back to her, even if she was just a few steps away, laughing politely with a guest.
Soon, the staff rolled in the grand white-and-gold cake, a beautiful three-tiered design adorned with sugar roses and tiny golden initials of S & H. Everyone gathered around, clapping and cheering.
Haraboji proudly held the mic for a moment, his voice warm and shaky with emotion."My grandchildren…" he said softly, looking at both of them, "you've not just made this house bright again, but you've brought peace to our hearts. May your love stay strong, forever."
Applause followed, and Suho squeezed Hauen's hand gently before leading her closer to the cake. Cameras flashed.
Someone playfully shouted, "Careful, Suho! Don't get distracted by your beautiful wife while cutting the cake!"
Suho chuckled under his breath but didn't look away from her, his smile saying everything. Hauen met his gaze, cheeks slightly pink as they held the knife together.
They cut the cake while everyone counted down, and when the first slice was offered, Suho, predictably, fed her first.
The crowd "awwed," and he smirked proudly.
Meanwhile, from a few steps away, Yuna was noticing everything. Her sharp eyes observed how effortlessly close Suho and Hauen had become, how they leaned into each other, how Suho's thumb occasionally brushed her wrist, the way his hand wrapped around her waist immediately, when one of his friend approached, how even in a crowd, they seemed to exist in their own small, unshakable world.
The once reserved, distant Suho now looked utterly alive, his expressions unguarded, full of warmth every time his gaze fell on his wife.
And standing near the family table, Hyunwoo, Hauen's brother, was also quietly observing the same thing. The way Suho's every emotion was written on his face whenever Hauen smiled; the way he unconsciously moved to be near her, even during conversations. It wasn't possessiveness, it was pure, unfiltered love.
Hauen's parents shared glances, smiling, a silent kind of peace in their eyes. Their daughter was happy. She was loved deeply, sincerely.
The music shifted again to something softer. Laughter continued. But at the center of it all, Suho and Hauen, fingers still loosely entwined, seemed lost in their own quiet celebration, completely unaware that the world was watching them glow.
The celebration had almost come to an end. The soft notes of a violin played in the background as the last few guests lingered near the dinner tables, sipping wine and exchanging polite goodbyes.
Suho was busy talking to a few of his business acquaintances when Hauen's gaze drifted across the hall. Her eyes fell on Hyunwoo, her brother, standing near the exit, his coat already on, ready to leave. Something inside her stirred. She hadn't spoken to him properly the entire night.
Quietly, she excused herself and followed him into the corridor, the sound of her heels echoing against the marble.
"Oppa," she called softly.