Chapter-3: Two Broken Heart

Chapter 3

Chaos tore through the wedding hall like a sudden storm.

Chairs scraped back. Voices rose. Guests surged to their feet in alarm—some already fumbling for their phones to call a doctor, others shouting for water, a few frozen in place as if their bodies had forgotten how to move. The polished ceremony collapsed in an instant, replaced by raw panic.

Nari was on her knees beside her father.

"Dad!"

Her voice broke on the word, as if it had been caught and crushed in her throat. She cupped his face with trembling hands. The color had drained from his skin, leaving it waxen beneath the chandeliers, and each breath he managed sounded heavier than the last—ragged, strained, as though his body was fighting for every second.

Yet amid the frantic movement and noise, one figure remained utterly still at the altar.

Minho.

Tall in his black tuxedo, he stood like a statue placed there for decoration and forgotten. His face had gone pale. His eyes—those deep, distant black eyes—were no longer fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. They stared through it, beyond it, into something only he could see.

As if the hall were fading.

As if, in the place of flowers and vows and terrified cries, an older world was returning.

A blur of images.

Fragments of voices.

A scream that cut too deep to belong to the present.

Tears that did not belong to strangers.

A name—half-heard, half-remembered—dragging itself out of the dark.

His hands began to shake.

Sweat gathered at his forehead, cold and sudden. His breathing tightened, quickening as if the air had become too thin. His chest felt heavy, compressed by an invisible weight. His eyes widened with the unmistakable horror of someone waking inside a nightmare—or being pulled back into a memory he'd buried for years and prayed would stay buried.

"Minho."

A firm hand landed on his shoulder, anchoring him.

Seojun's voice was calm, steady—an island in the wreckage. "Minho… look at me."

Minho turned slowly, as though his body resisted obeying. Seojun stepped closer, gaze locked on him with quiet urgency.

"Breathe," Seojun said, softer now. "Everything is fine."

It wasn't reassurance meant to convince; it was instruction meant to save. Seojun understood immediately what had happened—how the present had cracked open and an old shock had surged through his friend like a tide. He stayed there, close, solid, shielding Minho from being seen too clearly.

Luckily, no one was looking.

Not at them.

All eyes were on Nari and the man crumpled beside her.

Nari's father stirred. His eyelids fluttered, opening with immense effort, as though the simple act cost him pain. His mouth moved.

"Nari…"

At the sound of his voice—thin, faint, but unmistakably his—Nari leaned down so quickly it was almost a fall.

"Yes, Dad," she whispered, voice shaking. "I'm here."

He reached for her hand with trembling fingers and caught it, holding on as if it were the last solid thing left in his world. Tears gathered in his eyes, glistening under the lights.

"My child…" His voice wavered. "Forget the past."

Nari's heart lurched painfully in her chest. "Dad…"

"Go through with this marriage," he said, and the words landed like a blade.

Her breath hitched. "Don't," she pleaded, voice cracking. "Don't keep punishing yourself."

He forced a faint smile—an expression that tried to be gentle and failed, because it was built on strain. "Minho is a good man."

Tears slipped down Nari's cheeks, fast and helpless. She shook her head fiercely, as if refusing could change reality. "Dad, look at yourself." Her voice splintered. "We need to go to the hospital."

But he refused, the word harsh for how weak he looked. "No."

His grip tightened, not strong, but desperate. "You finish the wedding. They'll take me to the hospital. Don't worry about me."

Nari squeezed her eyes shut. With every second, her chest felt heavier, as though grief was piling inside her, brick by brick.

Then her father spoke again, the words slower now, threaded with something like confession.

"If you walk away from this altar today…" His voice cracked. "I will never be able to forgive myself."

Silence gathered between them—thick, merciless.

"And I will never be able to consider myself a good father," he added quietly, as though the sentence had lived inside him for years.

Something in Nari broke.

She clasped his hand with both of hers, as if holding on could keep him from slipping away. "Dad…" she sobbed, tears streaming without pause. "You are the best father in the world."

Her words came through shaking breaths. "I can't bear to see you unhappy."

She lowered her gaze—down, down—as though she could bury her own wishes deep enough that no one would ever find them again.

When she spoke again, her voice was barely there.

"If this will make you happy…" A pause, a tremor. "Then I'll go through with this marriage."

With that sentence, she left a part of her heart behind on the floor of the hall, beside the man she loved most.

A short while later, the chaos was smoothed into order with practiced hands. The priest spoke in a calm voice, urging everyone back to their seats. The guests obeyed, though their eyes were bright with lingering shock. Whispers resumed, but quieter now—muted by the sight of mortality intruding on wealth and ritual.

The ceremony continued.

The rings were exchanged.

The vows were completed.

Minho returned to his place at the altar with the same solemn stillness, as though he had never moved at all. Nari stood beside him in her plain white dress. Her beauty didn't come from luxury, but from something far more haunting—the softness of her sorrowful eyes, the way grief had made her look both fragile and untouchable.

The priest closed his book. His smile was gentle, dutiful.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," he said.

"From this day forward, you will stand by each other."

"You will respect one another."

"And you will care for each other through every joy and every hardship."

A deep silence filled the hall—too heavy to be reverence.

The wedding was over.

And yet no one felt they had witnessed the beginning of a love story.

It felt, instead, like the quiet sealing of a fate.

As though two broken lives had been forced onto the same path—whether they were ready or not.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***