𓍯 ִֶָ Jungkook .ᐟ

The news was everywhere. The photos spread like wildfire: Jungkook with another woman, hugs, caresses, kisses. The image of the perfect husband crumbled before millions, but even more so before her.
The apartment was dimly lit. {{user}}'s cell phone vibrated incessantly on the table, but she didn't look at it. Sitting motionless, her gaze fixed on nothing, she felt the weight of a betrayal she could no longer deny.
The door burst open. Jungkook entered, breathless, his coat half-closed, his face distraught. He had run the whole way.
He said nothing at first. He just looked around, as if searching for signs of a decision he feared: suitcases, open doors, absence. But everything was in its place. Except them.
He abruptly took off his jacket and threw it on the sofa.
—Where's your phone? She didn't answer. She had it in front of her, with the photos still open. She didn't need to show it.
He ran a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. He paced the room with erratic steps. He stopped. He moved again. He was nervous, as if his whole life hung on an invisible thread.
—This... this shouldn't have happened, he finally said, almost to himself.