what we don’t say at dinner | knj
— title: What We Don’t Say At Dinner — The Stand-In: side story | pairings: Namjoon x female reader | genre: new parents!au, post-divorce!au, family reconciliation | word count: 4,450 words
— summary | Namjoon finally convinces you to invite your family for dinner. Opening wounds and words that are left unspoken.
— ratings & warnings | PG-13; the story includes: family drama, talks about failed marriages and divorce, favoritism, alcohol consumption.
— original: The Stand-In by @yoonia — fic drop date: Aug 16th, 2024 — song companion: Teach Me How To Love — Galdive | Trigger — Seori — written as part of my 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖒 𝖑𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 event, created based on anon request.
The expensive knife in your hand slices cleanly through the tender steak now sitting on your plate, but it would be useless against the tension thickening in the air around you.
You hadn’t expected much from tonight. The dinner invitation wasn’t even your idea. It was simply the only way to end months of your family pestering to “see you” and “catch up”, after a long time passed without any news, without any contact from them.
Correction; it wasn’t really you who they all wanted to see. You were sure of it. You would be lying if you said that you believed their words in the first place. This dinner is more about your babies—your beautiful seven-month-old twin boys—and the curiosity they had about the baby daddy.
Having them here, inside your home, was also the last thing you ever wanted.
The memory of how they reacted to your divorce with Jaebum still burns. How they cut you off for daring to put yourself first still aches, the betrayal too deep to forget, even if you have been trying so hard to heal from it. Letting them into the space where you have felt the most peaceful feels like handing over the keys to your safe haven.
You had argued against Namjoon’s idea of hosting the dinner here instead of making a reservation at one of his restaurants. But, as always, he had managed to persuade you into changing your mind.
Yet he had done all this—planning this family reunion dinner—with good reasons. Even if it simply meant to keep the peace and having to give in for the sake of your children’s future.
For a while, things had gone better than expected. The babies have charmed your parents into polite smiles, and you have realized that keeping them home instead of taking them out in public has made you feel more at peace. Namjoon has been acting as the perfect host since your family first arrived that you barely had to do anything to please them. And now the twins are sleeping soundly in the den, safely tucked in inside their little bassinets and blissfully unaware of the silent cold war brewing at the dining table.
“Thank you again for inviting us for dinner. Everything has been lovely,” your mother says at last, breaking a lull that has stretched too long after the last conversation died out and the main course has been taken away.
For the past hour, conversation has been stilted, mostly shared between your parents and Namjoon. You have added only the occasional polite reply whenever you were addressed directly. It doesn’t matter how much you try to ease up and go with the flow, your body kept reverting to that old, defensive autopilot—guard up, heart locked—and always ready for the shoe to drop.
“I’m glad the food is to your liking. We have dessert if you’ve still got room,” Namjoon offers.
He starts to rise to grab them from the kitchen, but you catch his wrist to stop him. “I’ll get them,” you offer with a smile, having the intention to use this chance to escape for a moment.
Namjoon’s brow arches as he looks at you. Then, reading the silent plea in your eyes, he gives you a small smile. “Thanks, Peach.” He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before letting go.
In the kitchen, you take your time preparing the dessert course with the house staff who have been helping prepare dinner, while the conversation flows once again in your absence. Your mother’s voice carries faintly, “I hope we didn’t trouble you too much—”
The ache that curls in your chest at her praise is strange—like wanting to believe it’s for you, yet knowing it’s not.
Your mother has always been so hard to please. Something you learned from the years you spent growing up vying for her attention and favors, only to come up short, until you eventually stopped trying too hard. You cannot remember exactly when these expectations stopped—when you no longer cared much or held out hope for her praise and acknowledgement for your efforts—but it seems like there will always be a part of you that still wishes for them the same way you did when you were younger.
Namjoon’s voice answers, warm but factual. “It wasn’t too much of a trouble at all. The main course came from my family’s hotel kitchen. When we decided that it would be best to dine at home since it would be too soon for the twins to travel, we had the dinner sent to us to make it more convenient. But ______ made the appetizers and dessert herself to make them more special.”
By the time you return with the tray of lemon sorbet, your father’s face is bright with curiosity. “Isn’t this sorbet?”
“Yes, it is. It’s lemon sorbet. I craved it nonstop at the end of my pregnancy, so I learned to make it myself. Figured it was better than sending Namjoon out at 2 a.m. to get them,” you proudly explain as you serve the rest of them to the others at the table. “I made it a bit lighter and more creamy so it’ll be gentle for your stomach.” You return to your seat with a smile. “I hope you’ll love it.”
Your father’s smile brightens. He seems amused to realize that you’ve thought about his sensitive stomach when you were preparing the dessert. Right by his side, your mother’s smile is thin, careful. “They look delicious,” she says, her praise gentle.
Speechless, you simply raise your eyebrows at her and say nothing in return.
“It’s good,” you hear your brother, Eli, calmly compliment you as he tastes the sorbet.
Before you can thank him, your sister cuts in, her voice sharp as a knife. “Must be nice—having people at your beck and call.”
The room stills. You can sense the tension in the room growing stronger, colder, but you had already expected this.
Sara had barely spoken all evening, but you had noticed the wine disappearing quickly from her glass throughout dinner. You already know it’s only a matter of time before she starts throwing her snide comments.
You have no idea what your younger sister has against you. Being the youngest and born just when your parents had thought they would no longer be able to conceive due to them getting older, Sara has always been spoiled and pampered, treated like the golden child. Her needs would be placed above yours and your older brother’s, who were already in your early teen years when she was born.
Sara has always loved to be in the limelight and would resent anyone who gets in her way. You never cared much about it growing up, as you always minded more about your personal business and tended to stay out of her way. But the same couldn’t be said about the way she acted towards you.
She was always jealous.
She would always set her eyes on what’s yours, itching to outshine you. When you started inviting your friends and boyfriends to your home, she would always be there, vying for their attention, looking for favors. She flirted with your boyfriends and planted seeds of doubt between you and your friends to cause drama in your life. She even tried to do the same with Jaebum when he came into the picture, yet it didn’t last long enough to bear any fruit when your ex started setting up boundaries right after he proposed to you.
Even tonight, you have noticed the way she kept stealing glances at Namjoon. The displeasure in her eyes is clear each time your lover gives you his unwavering attention or when he boasts about your life with him.
The purpose of her comment is clear, and you know exactly what she is trying to do. So you keep your composure, showing no reaction as you respond from across the table.
“Thank you, Sara,” you say evenly, lifting your iced tea to hide your smile. “It is nice, and it’s a nice change to have after working myself raw during my last marriage, only to come home and play nursemaid to a husband who contributed almost nothing to the home we built. But you know that we don’t exactly live like this every night.”
Her gaze narrows. As if sensing the tension, Namjoon steps in smoothly. “She’s right. Tonight we had to do things a bit differently since we have special guests visiting our home,” he says, his eyes scanning around the table to regard your family. “But we both work together well to make our lives comfortable. I do what I can to help, even if I’m not the best cook. She does most of the cooking while I take care of the boys in my free time.” He turns to look at you, smiling. “We have the perfect teamwork, don’t we, Peach?”
Meeting Namjoon’s gaze, your heart soars. You love how quick he is to take your side, showing you support, which so obviously sours your sister’s mood further. Yet you pay no attention to her antics.
“Are you still on maternity leave?” your mother asks, her voice cautious, yet seemingly oblivious to the mental war rising across the table.
“Yes, I am. The gallery is giving me extra time because I gave birth to two babies at once, and they understand that I may need a longer break to recuperate before going back to work. They’re also giving me the chance to work on my paintings while I have some time off. We’re having a special event for independent artists next fall, and they suggested that I join to test my skills while arranging it.”
Sara tosses back her wine and chuckles into her glass. “That sounds like quite an upgrade,” she sneers.
You tilt your head. “I’m sorry?”
Your mother sighs. “Sara—”
Your sister rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mom. I know you’re thinking about it too.” It’s obvious that she isn’t backing down. In fact, she’s just starting. “She was only working as a clerk when she was with Jaebum, and now she’s suddenly making paintings and hosting fancy events at the gallery, living in a fancy house while she has staff working on making dinners and stuff.”
Your mother’s expression grows sour, yet it seems like your sister hasn’t had enough of her tirade. She turns to your mother and continues, “Not too long ago, you were saying how embarrassed you were for having a daughter who failed at her marriage and ended up having kids without being legally married. You only changed your tone once you found out who the babies’ father was.”
The words hang heavy. No one speaks for a brief moment. But the shame flashing across your mother’s face draws the ache in your chest deeper. You have grown used to it—your mother’s judgmental words, the way she would always pick apart every single mistake you’ve made your entire life, making you feel like a disappointment—yet it doesn’t mean that you no longer feel the hurt that comes with it.
Your father slams his palm on the table, having had enough of your sister’s tantrum. “Sara, stop it right now—”
The sharp tone of his voice startles you. Your father has always been so calm and collected, though he has always chosen to step back whenever the family splits sides.
Namjoon puts his hand on yours. A silent support that helps you feel slightly at ease. He seems to have noticed before you do that your hands are clenched tightly on the table as you struggle to keep your composure.
“What? I’m just saying—”
“You’re not wrong for saying that I’ve gotten myself an upgrade since my divorce,” you cut in, your tone level as you stare straight into your sister’s eyes, realizing her little tantrum doesn’t affect you as much as it used to. Not now, when you have Namjoon lending you strength.
“What?”
Seeing her looking confused, you simply smile. “It’s the truth, after all. My life has been upgraded that I can’t help but feel grateful. I have a man who truly cares about me, loves me, and will continue to support me without asking anything in return.”
Glancing at Namjoon, you smile at him and squeeze his hand before you continue addressing your sister, “I have two perfect boys who aren’t giving me too much trouble as a new mother, and a peaceful home to return to every day. I won’t deny that I’ve been lucky enough to have the chance to start over and find everything I needed to be happy, and I know I’ll never trade it for anything else in the world. I’m happy with what I have, and it’s more than enough. Everything else—the fancy dinner, pretty house, the perfect job—are merely the added bonus I got, which has been making my life easier.”
Sara’s lips curl. She seems ready to strike again—until Eli speaks.
“I don’t know why you’re even here if all you’re going to do is be bitter and rude,” he says without looking up. His voice is calm, his attention is still fully on the dessert he’s enjoying, even as he sharply points out, “You’re making it obvious that you’re just jealous. Not surprising. You’ve always wanted what she had.”
Silence stretches. Nobody, including you, ever expected that he would say something.
Then, he lifts his gaze, looking straight at Sara. “I mean, let’s not forget how you tried to make a move on Jaebum during her divorce.”
Your mother gasps. Sara’s face pales. Seeing this, you have to hide your smile under your palm. There was no need for him to provide proof when the truth is written on their faces.
Meanwhile, Eli merely shrugs, acting nonchalant as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell. “Good thing he had the sense to reject you. Only good thing he ever did for ________ after making her life hell.” He glances at you, his jaw tight, his eyes remorseful, before going back to his sorbet.
Meanwhile, you are too stunned to speak. Growing up, Eli may have never been on Sara’s side the same way your parents and other family members who worship her ever did, but he also had never defended you so openly before.
But you have no chance to dwell on it when all of a sudden, Sara bolts upright once she’s gotten over her shock. Her eyes are set on your older brother. “You son of a—”
“That’s enough!” your father snaps, his voice cracking with frustration. “This was not the reason why we’re here tonight.”
Nobody says anything. Not even Sara, yet she makes no move to return to her seat. Then, a crackle comes from the baby monitor, which calls for your attention. You recognize the sound of soft fussing coming from one of the boys, no doubt having been awakened by the commotion happening nearby.
“I’ll check on the twins,” you calmly announce while rising from your seat before Sara can retort.
Namjoon clears his throat. “We should move the boys upstairs,” he says, his words seem final. Then he turns to your parents to ask, “Would you like to see them one last time before you go?”
It only takes one look at his face to know the meaning behind his words. You have felt his displeasure ever since he noticed the cold reactions your family kept giving you. The feeling grew into restrained anger when Sara first spoke, and it’s now coming out of him in waves.
There is no need for him to say it out loud. The unspoken message is clear: dinner is over, and tonight’s guests are no longer welcome in his home.
Once you find yourself in the den, away from your guests and the drama your sister had caused, you can finally breathe easier.
Sara had stubbornly refused to show remorse or apologize, even when your parents insisted. Then, everyone decided to end the night when she left the room, announcing to everyone that she would rather wait in the car while your parents visited your babies one last time.
Closing your eyes, you rock Jaehyun gently against your chest to help him go back to sleep. You barely managed to pick him up on time before he started kicking a fuss and causing his twin to wake up, and now it seems like he still has enough energy to stay awake. His eyes are drooping, yet his cooing fills the room, as if he is trying to tell you about his dreams.
The soft murmur of conversation filters through the hallway. Namjoon’s deep voice reaches you as he walks the rest of your family out the front door. Not long after, you hear softer footsteps coming from behind you.
Your mother appears in the doorway, her hands twisting together as though she isn’t sure if she is welcome. “_____.” She hesitates, eyes flicking between you and the baby in your arms. “What Sara said earlier—”
“—was true,” you cut in before she could make excuses for your sister, the way she always has.
Her lips part, but nothing comes out.
You turn slightly, so Jaehyun’s cheek is pressed to your collarbone as you look at her face. “I’m glad at least one of you was honest tonight,” you say quietly with a tight smile on your face.
“Honey, I—”
You shake your head. “Don’t.” You keep your voice even. “We both know you were never happy about my divorce. You took JB’s side while I was struggling, even after I told you what he did. Do you know what that felt like? Coming home from a failing marriage that was already crushing me, and finding out that my own family had shut the door on me too?”
You sigh as you shake your head one more time, recalling the past. “It took a lot of me to find the courage to walk away—to put myself first. But the worst part of it was feeling like I was all alone.”
Your mother’s gaze drops. For a long moment, the only sounds filling the room are Jihoon’s soft breath coming from the bassinet and the soft whine Jaehyun is making as he fights off sleep.
When your mother looks up again, her face is stripped of defense. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely above a whisper. “We’re sorry.”
You draw in a breath that feels heavier than you expected. “You know…I think I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. It would’ve been harder for me to move on and be strong enough for my babies if I’m still clinging to my resentment,” you admit, “but the hurt… It’s still here. It might take some time before it goes away.”
“I know.” She swallows hard. “All I can hope is… that you’ll find your peace and heal from everything. We all need to…to heal, I mean, but you deserve it the most.”
You nod once. “Thank you. Let’s hope we’ll all get there,” you murmur softly while silently admitting that you are getting there. It took some time for you to realize it, but once you let go of all the hurt, the resentment, and once you stopped wondering what you’ve done wrong, you have been slowly healing. The proof is here, in the presence of your sons, who have taught you unconditional love for the first time and made your heart beat the way it did—warm, free, and full of hope for the future.
She glances toward Jaehyun, and you offer him into her arms. Your mother holds him as if he is made of fragile glass—gentle and full of care. And for the first time in years, you don’t feel the need to pull away.
When the boys are back in their bassinets, you walk your mother to the door, where your father and Eli have been waiting with Namjoon. Sara is nowhere in sight, and you can only guess that she is probably sulking in the car. You don’t bother asking. Not when you have just found some semblance of peace while being close to your family. Something that was rare to find in your life. Until now.
“Thank you for letting us come visit this evening,” your mother says as she pulls you into her arms. Your body grows still at first, not sure how to react when it has been so long since the last time you received any kind of affection from your mother.
But once you realize that it is the same kind of warm hug you wished to have during the darkest period of your life, you find yourself leaning into it, welcoming her. It might not be enough to make up for what you missed, but as you hug her back and close your eyes, you can feel some broken parts of your soul stitching themselves back.
“And thank you for allowing your Mom and Dad to see your sons. You have beautiful boys. I agree that everything is…a bit unconventional,” she continues once you pull away with a small smile, “but you’ve made a beautiful family.”
Her words warm your heart. You cannot help but reach out to Namjoon, who wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him as you face your mother. “Like I said, I’ve been lucky. I found the right partner, and the boys have the best Dad,” you tell her, looking up at Namjoon, who kisses the top of your head in return.
When you finally bid your goodbyes to your family, your heart feels much lighter than it was before. Lighter than how you used to feel whenever you thought about your family and your relationship with them. Even the distance you used to feel between you and your family seems to lessen. It is still there, you can still feel it, but not enough to make you feel like you don’t belong.
Just like how your mother’s apology and embrace feel more genuine, your father’s hug feels warmer and lasts longer before he lets you go. And Eli—well, it’s Eli. All he gives you is a nod before he walks off to his car, but his presence tonight speaks louder than any words.
Your brother may not be good when it comes to showing his emotions. But he always has his own ways to show you that he cares. Just like how he defended you tonight, he was the first and only one from your family who reached out when he heard the news about your divorce, offering you help and support and a place to stay—even if it meant traveling miles away to where he had moved out to since he left the family.
He was also the only one who called when the twins were born. The package he sent the first weekend since the boys were home had made up for his absence when he couldn’t fly in to visit. The colorful draperies, quilts, and toys he put together for the twins now fill the nursery room, making the place look pretty yet comfortable for your boys.
Knowing that you have an ally in your family brings you a sense of comfort. Helping you realize that you have never truly been alone all this time.
Things between you and your family aren’t perfect. Perhaps it never will. But it no longer seems as bleak as it used to be.
You stand beside Namjoon on the porch for a moment longer as you watch your family drive away, the sound of their car engines slowly fading down the street until they are all gone. The quiet that follows feels as comforting as the soft breeze flowing around you, making your breath feel light and easy.
“Well,” Namjoon murmurs, his arm around your shoulders feels warm as he slowly pulls you back into the house. “Glad that’s over.”
A breath escapes you—half sigh, half laugh. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
He squeezes your shoulder. “It was okay,” he says with a shrug.
“Oh, come on. It was a lot,” you say with a dry chuckle.
“But you handled it well,” he says, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’m so proud of you tonight.”
You glance up at him, the gentle light falling across the foyer catching the curve of his smile as he closes the door behind him. “I wouldn’t have been able to face them without you,” you carefully admit. “You and the boys have given me the strength I needed to face them.”
And that is the truth.
It took you a long time before you could finally find the courage to face them again and to open your heart to welcome them back into your life. If it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s encouragement, perhaps this reunion would have never happened.
This dinner may have ended with another mess, but at least you are no longer going to spend your days wondering all the ‘what-ifs’ while avoiding your family like a plague. Now you can truly move on and focus on the future.
Namjoon takes your hand and pulls you towards the den. “Are we planning another family dinner for the next holiday? We didn’t even get to tell them the good news,” he teases you as he gently runs the tip of his fingers across the diamond ring on your finger, yet another reason why he wanted to have tonight’s dinner.
Obviously, that plan failed miserably.
You slap your hand to his chest and scoff. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Give me another year to recover from what we just got out of,” you tease him back, your eyes immediately falling on your ring. “Besides, they’ll find out eventually. They always do.”
Namjoon laughs. He leans down and kisses your lips, soft and certain. “We’ve got this, Peach. Just you and me.”
You reach up to kiss him again, only to stop when the faint sound of cooing drifts through the baby monitor. “And don’t forget the peanut boys,” you playfully add while smiling against his lips.
Namjoon gives you one last kiss. “That’s all we ever need, Peach.”
You both turn toward the doorway leading to the den, hearts already softening before you even get to see your twins. For the first time in a long while, the thought of family doesn’t feel like a wound—it feels like a choice you made, and one worth keeping.
— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
