He reached into the cabinet under his counter and pulled out the bottles of wine. One by one. He stared forlornly at them for a few moments. They had been his only consolation for a while. Except for the piano.
And that was ironic. Because wine always gave him a headache.
Not anymore. He wouldn’t be having any more headaches. Not unless they were the honest kind. Like the one he’d get if Nari’s appa stopped her from seeing him.
If that happened, he might have to find a way to buy some more wine.
No! Stop drowning your sorrows in a bottle! Stop hiding inside a drunken stupor! Stop relinquishing your future to someone else’s dreams.
Now, Yoongi opened each bottle before setting them side by side in a straight line on his counter. Then he picked up the first one and turned to dump it down the drain. Just then, Nari stepped into his kitchen. Her dark eyebrows flew towards her nose.
“Yoongi, what are you doing?”
“Taking the first step towards being worthy of you.”
“What?” Incredulous, she watched as he poured an entire bottle of wine down the drain.
She was wondering where he’d gotten all of it. He wasn’t old enough to buy wine. Even if he was very good at swallowing it. His affinity for it still gave her a sense of unease. She’d seen alcohol destroy too many people.
“Your appa won’t you let you marry a drunk. And I seem to remember something you said the first night I met you. Something about not wanting to give your children a drunken appa.”
She recalled her words of that night too.
Look, sweetie, I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. Especially not one who drinks to excess. I want babies someday soon. And a sober appa for them.
Wait!
Yoongi was talking about marrying her!?
Her eyes grew wide. “Yoongi…what are you saying?”
He glanced up at her. “If I prove myself worthy of you, would you forsake your appa and his support to be with me?”
To be with him?
That didn’t sound very promising. Not like a pledge or anything. It certainly didn’t involve any vows.
“To be with you?” she asked for clarification.
Her heart was drumming out a steady beat now. He couldn’t possibly be considering marrying her, could he? They hadn’t even known each other for a month yet. She must be imagining things.
“I don’t know if I can fix this. I don’t know if I can fix a single thing about this.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve made a bunch of stupid choices since I met you. And I don’t know if your appa would ever find me acceptable now. Or if I can repair his working relationship with my appa. But I must try. However, the thing that matters the most to me is…you. Even if our appas’ kingdoms fall, if I get to be with you in the end, every effort I make now would be worth it.”
She stared at him. He still hadn’t said the words. But he was close.
She considered her future. Even with her scholarship, she probably wouldn’t be able to finish college without her appa’s support. How would they make it? Neither of them had a degree.
“So,” she blew out a long breath, “let me get this right. You’re asking me if I would leave my family, forsake my education, and sink my business future to move in with you.”
His eyes collided with hers. “No.” He spread his hands out on the island and leaned towards her. “I’m asking – if I clean up my life – if you’d consider marrying me.”
She couldn’t breathe. It came upon her suddenly. Instantly, the air in the room – all of the air in the room – had simply evaporated. Had he inhaled it all?
She frowned, and his heart sank.
“You didn’t hear what I said to you in my bedroom, did you?”
He furrowed his brow.
“When you were weeping.” She paused momentarily before elucidating, “I said, ‘Pick me.’”
His eyes widened.
“I’m the answer to your dilemma. If we can get my appa to support our relationship, your appa will be satisfied, your family fortune saved, and your future in the company secured. Right?”
He gazed at her with sorrowful eyes. “Judging by your conversation with your appa, that’s a big ‘if.’”
She smiled at him. Then her eyes took in the bottles of wine. “I think it’s not as big an ‘if’ as you believe it is. Not if you’re even half the man I think you are.”
“So, what’s the second step?”
“Second step?” Her voice released her confusion. “What was the first step?”
He glanced down at the bottles. “Sobriety.”
“I know one way you could win my appa over.” She hesitated. “But you’re not going to like it.”
His face went blank. It was a trick he’d learned from his best friend’s little brother. Whenever he felt intimidated or worried, he’d let his countenance fall into a state of slackness. And he’d zone his eyes out so no one could read his fear in them.
But then he remembered that he was trying to build a future with this woman. And that future would require honesty and transparency. So he turned apprehensive eyes her way in the next moment.
“Appa loves the piano. Play for him. Your songs. Not someone else’s.”
Unblinking, he stared at her for a few moments. Then he sighed and spoke.
“Then I know what the second step is.”
“What?”
“To play my songs for you.”
