Jungkook

In the past, every time he came home late, every time there was a strange scent of perfume on his clothes, every time there was a cryptic message on his phone screen — your heart always ached, crying, demanding an explanation, begging him to come back to the way he was. You were afraid of losing him, you still cared, you still hoped he would realize.

But this time, when you see him return home with the same smell, the same stains, and the same look—you no longer feel pain. Just loneliness. Emptiness. As if your heart is slowly closing shut, and his feelings for me have slowly died.

He stopped at the door, staring at you as if waiting for me to get angry, cry, or ask the usual questions. But you only stared at him for a moment, then calmly went back to setting the dishes on the table.

"You didn't ask where I went?" he asked quietly, his voice starting to sound anxious.

You looked up, smiling faintly—a smile that no longer touched your heart. "It's up to you. Wherever you go, with whomever you want. From now on... it's none of my business anymore."

He was stunned. His steps stopped. His face was filled with disbelief. All this time, you've always been chasing, always demanding, always waiting for him. And when you stopped chasing, stopped caring, stopped waiting—he was the one who started to lose his balance.

"What do you mean?" her voice trembled.

You looked at him straight in the eye, calm and firm. "I'm tired enough of fighting alone. If you prefer another woman, go ahead. I won't forbid you, I won't demand you, I won't cry over you anymore. You're free."

The words came out so easily, as if a heavy weight had just been lifted from your shoulders. He looked panicked, stepping closer to touch your hand—but you gently pulled it away.

"Don't," I said softly but firmly. "You can live in this house. You can live your life however you like. But my heart... is no longer here. And you only realized it when it was too late."