Seventeen Imagines III

#64 "Without you and without me" (one shot story)

My wife took her life because of me.

When I received a call from the police that (Y/n) was found hanging herself inside our room, I couldn't believe it. No. It's a fact that won't be believable unless I saw it with my own eyes.

Therefore, I ran out from our office; like a madman. "Sir Jihoon! Sir Jihoon!" Even if everyone shouted my name, I didn't care. All I wanted is to see her, forcing a smile on her lips and welcoming a strained, "welcome home."

'If ever... If ever my words were the reason,' I kept thinking of this while I hardly breathe. As I took my steps, every harsh words I told to her has echoed in my ears:

"You can't do it? And you call yourself my wife?"

"What kind of breakfast is this?"

"Argh, I hate seeing you."

"Looking at you puts me in a bad mood."

"Don't expect too much."

I did everything to hide my feelings, to ignore that I fell in love with a woman my parents set me up. In order to that, I selfishly covered the truth by being cold. But if all of those are the reason... If you ended your life because of it...

"Did you contact her husband?"

"Yes, sir. Miss (Y/n) doesn't have relatives anymore beside her husband."

"I see. Geez, the lady is still young."

"Do you think, she was physically abused by her husband?"

"We have to wait for the autopsy result to know. There are no hints it'll be a murder or homicide case so far. However, her suicide letter is so short. But one thing is for sure, her husband is the main reason why."

My knees weakened after hearing their conversation in front of my house. Kneeling down, I stared at the police line around. It's true. This isn't a dream.

My wife is really dead.

(Y/n) killed herself.

The woman I love has died because of someone stupid as me.

Since that night, my world that was always dark became darker. There were times when I don't eat all day, until I passed out and woke up in another endless nightmares. Sometimes I laughed without reason. But mostly, I stared at the blank space.

Tears? How about my tears? Well, I never shed one.

Even when I knew it was me who caused her miserable ending, I couldn't cry. Even in her last moment, I didn't cry in front of her grave. And even if I was interrogated by the police, my reactions were the same.

One night, I jumped from my bed and looked at the moon by the window. Since when did I sleep well? I hardly remember.

Sighing with a thought of returning back on my bed, I saw a paper above my desk. It was folded by two.

When the investigation ended, the police gave me my wife's last letter before she hanged herself. I am completely aware what's inside but... I haven't read it personally.

I'm afraid.

I'm so afraid that my insides were turning upside down just staring at it.