Two months has already passed since our application for adoption has finally been approved. We were interviewed just fine and the office also told us that there's a young mother from Jeju who chose our papers and has already signed all the necessary documents since yesterday. For our own safety, our application is anonymous and so is the birth mother's identity. We only communicate through the adoption agency or via personal friendly emails.

Park Chanyeol wrote "businessman" and "artist" as our occupations and disclosed only a fourth of our annual income for privacy—which still reached quite a stunning amount he started to worry people might figure out it's us. Aside from our family and closest friends, we really don't want anyone to know yet about the child we're going to have. It's for the baby's safety, too. Other information in our application form were unremarkable, except maybe for an 'essay' my husband wrote at the end; I don't know what had got him to write a two-page answer under 'Comments & Suggestions'. Chanyeol could be extra sometimes.

About the birth mother, we do not really know anything about her—but she gives us weekly news about her pregnancy to keep us updated—so Chanyeol and I just refer to her as Angel. She's godsent so I guess the name fits. My husband hired two experienced nurses to take care of her during the entire pregnancy and we also send vitamins, food, clothes, and monthly allowance for her to spend on the baby's needs and hers. I also gifted her one of my paintings last week and she wrote a letter of thanks immediately after she received it. Angel sounded like a really sweet person; Maybe difficult things forced her to give up her child.

I pout, staring sadly at my grocery cart as I dismissed the thought.

Today, since I have nothing else planned to do, I am grocery shopping. I will send most of the groceries to Angel, but our home needs a little stocking, too. We have this huge, high-class kitchen with barely anything in it.

I barely started through my to-buy list when Park Chanyeol, in all-black casual clothes, appeared at the end of an aisle with a scowl on his handsome face as he approached me. He took in my simple sweatshirt and cheap jacket, matched with some ragged jeans and shoes, and he doesn't look pleased.

I sighed and returned the bottle of chili sauce to the shelf. "Okay," I raised my palm to him when he reached me. "Don't be mad! I'm sorry I didn't answer you calls and didn't wake you when I left... You were fast asleep."

Chanyeol stared at my face for a moment but didn't say anything. It's like he's debating whether he's going to drag me out of here or leave me be but with bodyguards who would watch my every move and maybe make sure that the tile I step on isn't triggering some time bomb.

Truth is, ever since the Lucas incident two months ago, my husband has been nothing but safety. Safety. Safety. And I love him, and I love everything he does for me—It's not like it's suffocating. It's just that, I don't like him to worry so much. It's stressing him out. And when he's stressed, it gets to me, too, somehow.

Besides, it's not like anyone's going to bother me again for a while since Lucas' agency is currently fighting for its life after losing a huge amount of money, causing the company to fight against immediate bankruptcy. Right now, fans are either busy crying, making protests, or cursing the investor who suddenly withdrew their share.

Sighing, I stepped forward and gently reached out for my husband's face. "It's okay, my love," I cooed, brushing his cheeks. "Nothing's going to happen."

My husband's face relaxed, but not entirely. He then shrugged off his coat and draped it around my shoulders, leaving him wearing his own padded jacket. "Should I just buy this entire supermarket?" he mused in a deep voice as he fixes the coat on me and a grocery worker who's busy stocking spaghetti sauce on the shelf across from us looked up in horror.

"Babe, no!" I cried out. "Why would you do that?"

"It isn't much," he said seriously. "Maybe just a couple millions—"

"That's not the point, Park Chan," I rolled my eyes, slipping my arms inside the sleeves of his coat while fixing my husband with a judging stare. When will he ever learn to calm down? "What are you doing here anyway?" I asked instead. "And how did you know I'm grocery shopping?"

Chanyeol looked at me like I just asked the dumbest question. "I woke up and you're not beside me, so of course I searched for you," he explained. "When you didn't leave me any message and won't answer my calls, I got a little worried. I called Seyri instead and she said something about yesterday when you were stressing over the fact that the refrigerator is gigantic but doesn't have anything in it..."

I nodded slowly. "Oh..." How the fuck is he so quick-witted? "But how did you know I'll be here?" I challenged. "In this particular market?"

"You do all your groceries in this place, love," he sighed. "Do you really think I don't pay attention whenever you talk and talk about random stuff?"

"Well, yeah..." I murmured. "You always have a book at hand."

Chanyeol smiled a little. "Well, then. I guess you never noticed how I stop flipping pages as soon as you started talking."

My eyes went wide. Oh, yeah! Now that he mentioned it, last night, I wondered why he's still at page 461 when I finally returned to hugging him in bed after leaving for a few moments to finish my skin care routine while telling him about everything that happened during the photo exhibit Amber and I attended. I just reckoned he likes whatever is happening in that particular page, so I didn't mind and just blabbered on, not really caring if he's listening or not.

Park Chanyeol loves reading before going to bed.

But I guess he prefers listening to my stories far more.

After smirking at my shocked expression, my husband started looking around the supermarket with narrowed eyes. There aren't much people today, just enough to keep the place alive. "Where is Seyri anyway?" Chanyeol suddenly asked as he absentmindedly took hold of the shopping cart, pushing it slowly beside me as we walked along the aisle.

I turned to one shelf and took two packs of pasta sauce. "It's her day-off," I answered the question. "Hey babe, do you like Italian or just sweet?"

"What? When did our guards ever get day-offs?" Chanyeol asked incredulously. "And baby please get the Italian. I don't like sweet pasta. You know that."

I nodded and placed four packs into my cart. "I give her day-offs every week because she's hard-working and she's my friend," I said. "But you won't relate to that because you're cold and not really friendly."

"What—" my husband looks dumbfounded and I suppressed an amused chuckle. "That's not true! I keep you warm every night—"

"Oh my god—" I slapped Chanyeol's arm. "Stop saying embarrassing things like that! People might hear you." I cautiously looked around just as a young woman walked to our aisle, pausing when she noticed me and Chanyeol, then blushing a little as she went on her way. Maybe we're too eye-catching for her benefit. I looked back at my husband and squinted my eyes. "Wait a minute," I started slowly. "Why are you scolding me about Seyri not being here when you obviously went here alone? Aren't you Park Chanyeol, the most successful businessman in SoKor right now? Where are your bodyguards? HUH?"

Chanyeol's eyes went wide, realizing he's been caught red-handed. "W-Well—I—"

"And don't give me the I-escaped-from-them kind of bullshit because I'm going to kick your ass this time," I threatened. Still staring daggers at my husband, I put my hand on my hip and waited for his answer. Park Chanyeol cares a whole lot about me—he will do every fucking thing there is to do just to give me what I want. I know that, so I try hard not to bother him much. But sometimes, my husband forgets about taking care of himself, too. And that's what worries me.

I just pretend I'm pissed or something.

Park Chanyeol let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "Well... It's been a long time since we did this together," he murmured, suddenly blushing. "So, I went here alone because I want to do things like this with you as normal as possible."

Now that is an answer I didn't expect.

And I can't help but feel my heart melt at what my husband said. It's true. It has been ages since we did groceries together because we're whether busy or too hesitant to go out alone—My mom or Chanyeol's mainly send us stuff. I never really minded the practice. But now, standing at the middle of an empty aisle with my husband beside me and the buzzing of people around us, I realized I really do miss this. I miss doing couple stuff together with Park Chanyeol no matter how trivial they may be.

When I'm about to reply, I felt him take my hand, holding it gently between his wide, calloused hands. "You like simple things, love," Chanyeol smiled sadly. "You like doing groceries in regular places, window shopping, street food hunting, strolling—I'm sorry if I can't give you those all the time. To be honest, seeing you like this—alone and struggling to keep a low profile—It worries me, yes. But it makes me feel a little guilty, too... I'm sorry, Park Hyun."

Smiling widely, I moved towards my husband and wrapped my arms around his neck. I don't care if people will see us or if cameras will start flashing. My husband needs me right now. Slowly, I pressed out foreheads together and kissed the tip of his nose. "Listen to me, okay, babe?" I murmured and Chanyeol nodded, hands wrapping loosely around my waist. "You, Park Chanyeol, make me the happiest I could ever be, and I never knew this kind of happiness even exists until you came and made me live in it," I smiled widely. "I ask for nothing more, my love. And so what if we can't do groceries together all the time?" I smirked. "We could always do other couple stuff, right?"

Chanyeol chuckled, hands caressing my waist slowly. "Aren't we supposed to not say things like that here?"

I rolled my eyes. "No one's going to hear—"

And then someone sniffled. Chanyeol and I pulled away from each other to look at the lone grocery worker still stocking spaghetti sauce to the large shelf. He wiped tears from his face before looking at us with a pout, "You guys are so sweet and so cute..." he sobbed, standing up and whining to himself, "I'm going to die alone!" before he quickly walked away, crying hard.

Chanyeol and I looked at each other, our faces matched—eyes wide and mouth gaped open in surprise. "Did he just—" Chanyeol started, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. "Did he hear everything?"

I am torn between wanting to laugh and bewilderment. "I-I guess so..."

For the rest of the morning, Chanyeol and I are either bickering or well... kissing. And I think I'm all:

"Why are there so much canned goods? You don't even like these."

"Get the one on the left. The left! The—Did I say you can take both?!"

"Check the expiry date—No! Not that— That's the fucking barcode—I'm going to kill you!"

"That makes Angel nauseous. Did you forget—I said stop—STOP!"

"Why the fuck are you throwing random stuff in the cart?!"

"For the love of god! Stop hoarding, Park Chanyeol!"

He's my husband. I love him. Keep calm, Park Baekhyun. Stop thinking about punching him in the neck. That's what I keep telling myself until Chanyeol turns to me with that million-dollar smile on his face, strong arms taking me by the waist before kissing my wits away. Goddamnit. He just knows what to do with me.

Chanyeol does that repeatedly whenever he feels like I'm going to start strangling him. And well, it works every fucking time because as soon as he breaks off the kiss and grins down at me lovingly, I am again swooning over how great of a kisser he is and how his disheveled hairstyle makes him look boyish and handsome. He probably has zero idea about how whipped I am.

"Oh my god. We don't need this much tissues!" I complained then again as my husband started filling another grocery cart.

"Really?" Chanyeol throws me a look.

I think I went beet red.

"That's what I thought," Park Chanyeol smirked before proceeding to push the cart to the next aisle. With the number of things we just bought, I think it'll be better to hire the supermarket's delivery staff to send all the boxes home later. I didn't think taking your excited CEO husband to the supermarket would mean jam-packing six huge grocery carts and still thinking they're far from enough. Angel might get surprised tomorrow if a van just suddenly drops off boxes of groceries she doesn't even need. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, breathing out air through my mouth, before following Park Chanyeol.

"Can we at least donate some of these, babe?" I whined, grabbing his arm and pressing my face on his shoulder. I'm starting to get tired and I guess a headache is about to come. When Chanyeol won't answer, I looked up and notice that he's staring seriously at somewhere. Frowning, I followed his gaze to a shelf of powdered milk formula. I smiled up at him. "Should we start shopping for baby things?"

Chanyeol looked down at me, confused. "Hm?" he raised his brows. "Didn't you already start shopping for them online?" There's a hint of disappointment in his tone but I ignored it because I don't think he's right. What is he saying?

"What?" I frowned. "I didn't."

"You did," Chanyeol is now frowning, too. "They came in this morning just before I left the house."

"No," I shook my head. "We promised each other we'll do it together, right? Why would I start buying baby things without even telling you?"

"But their designs matched the mural you did in the nursery," my husband said. "So, I thought you did the shopping..."

"You mean the starry sky theme? The stuff that came matched my mural?" My eyes went wide. "Do you think your sister did it? Or our parents?"

"Without telling us?" Chanyeol looks like he's going to get angry. "But they know how big of a deal this baby thing is for us... And they never saw the nursery. No one else saw it yet..."

I gasped. "Do you think... We started blabbering about it whenever we attend dinners together?"

"No, baby. I don't think that's the case," Chanyeol muttered. His eyes traveled all over my face as if seeing me is the only way he could think right.

"Did you at least check the sender's address?" I asked my husband. "Maybe we know who sent it..."

"Yeah, I did," he nods once. "There's nothing there so I initially thought it was you."

I bit my lip, thinking hard. "Then... Do you have any idea about who sent all those stuff for the baby? Just... Anyone?" Because I personally have no idea. My friends wouldn't do such a thing since they're one of those who supported the idea of me and Chanyeol shopping for baby things together.

Suddenly, Chanyeol's arm went to wrapped around my shoulders protectively. "Actually, I do," he smiled and it's a little forced. "And if I'm right, we have to throw those gifts away."

The next morning, I woke up earlier than Park Chanyeol. His arm is wrapped loosely around my waist and when I tried shimmying away from his embrace, my husband groaned and just pulled me even closer. His hand slipped under the shirt I am wearing, feeling my warmth whilst nuzzling against my neck.

I would have pushed him away right then because I need to pee and do other things downstairs but seeing his peaceful handsome face so near me is making my heart drop to my stomach. Gently, I reached for his hair and brushed the soft, honey blonde strands.

"Don't leave yet, baby," my husband mumbled against my skin. "Just a few more minutes."

"But I'm going to cook you some breakfast," I giggled. "Don't you want that?"

Chanyeol hummed then I felt a kiss on my neck. "I would say something dirty, because you're gorgeous and all, but I really want to sleep some more, love..." he chuckles weakly. Chanyeol moved to lie on his stomach before finally withdrawing his hug to let me go. He heaves a sigh and I guess he's sleeping again.

I slowly got up and went to grab my robe from our bedside couch. It's a black satin robe my husband got me from his business trip to Italy a few weeks ago. Cocking my head to one side, I can't help but smile a little as I watch my husband's sleeping face. He tells me I'm pretty even when I'm drooling, but I guess it's only because he never saw himself asleep before.

"Aren't you gorgeous, too?" I mumbled as I leaned down to give Park Chanyeol an adoring kiss on the forehead. I ruffled his hair before turning to leave, and that's when I felt his hand grab my wrist, stopping me. "Hm?" I sat down by the side of the bed to level our faces. "Yes, babe?"

Chanyeol opened his tired eyes halfway to gaze into mine. "Let's go out later," he breathed. "I'll treat you."

I smiled cheekily. "Are you asking me out on a date, Park Chan?"

His hand traveled to mine and he intertwined our fingers before pressing the back of my palm against his lips. He sighed contentedly and I think my heart cried a bit. "Yeah," Chanyeol murmured whilst nosing my hand. "I guess I am."

"Okay then!" I beamed at him, grinning widely.

Park Chanyeol blinked twice before shaking his head a little, finally catching himself. "God," he groans. "Oh god, you're too pretty."

After quickly washing my face and brushing my teeth, I went downstairs and was immediately greeted by the pleasant way the sun's rays pass through the glass wall separating the living room and the balcony. I stood under it for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun and hugging myself as I walked towards the railings to stare at the wide expanse of Seoul slowly waking up for the day. It's a Sunday so malls and parks will surely be filled with people. I'm starting to wonder where Chanyeol plans to take me for our date.

Just when I finally decided to start preparing the things I need to make breakfast, one of our security guards walked up to me, his head bowed low. I was so used to them being in the house that sometimes I forget they're there. They are seriously too quiet.

"Good morning, sir," he greeted me. "Someone's here to see you."

I frowned. "It's barely six in the morning..." I mumbled as I walked back inside the house and towards the entrance. "Who would even..." I trailed off just as I reached the fountain and see a tall, beautiful woman, maybe in her late fifties, standing by the elevators. She is covered in Louis Vuitton—From her fashionable hat down to her stilettos, and she emits that unquestionable regality that only a person born and raised rich could have.

I'm bad at remembering faces. I really am. But I know I have seen her before in pictures. Only in pictures.

"You must be Byun Baekhyun," the woman smiled. Her voice is deep and elegant.

Oh my god.

I felt all the blood drain from my face and I suddenly felt the urge to start calling out Chanyeol's name from the top of my lungs. I must have looked so shocked and dumbfounded because the woman chuckled a little as she took a step forward as if to offer her hand.

But I backed away immediately and she paused.

"I'm sorry," she said, her smile faltering. "I guess I got your name wrong. You're Park Baekhyun now, right? Since... You're already married to my grandson."

I took another step back. No. This can't be. What is she doing here?

Chanyeol's grandmother nods to herself, as if understanding my reaction. And then she looked at me again, her gaze firm and unwavering. "Did you at least..." she started. "Did you receive my gifts, Baekhyun?" 

x x x 

i'm widening my search! 

please in line comment here a really cute baby name :)