from me to you. → kth | ✓

37.

chapter thirty-seven: white sand

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yoongi

I STARE AT the setting sun as I lightly swirl the wine in my glass. It's setting, yes, but it's still pitch black at the top. It fades into a slightly lighter blue- navy. Yes, navy. It fades into that and then it's joined by the sun peeking out only halfway, big, round and orange. Still slightly bright, forcing itself to shine no matter what.

I smile to myself. That's exactly how I'd describe Aera. The days when I'd still be at the office were days I would never forget, believe it or not. She was her true self there, not the quiet, timid 'wife' at home. The Aera at the office wouldn't let whatever her fiance was doing to her then happen at her place of work. Never.

It's just a little upsetting how that persona doesn't really show itself outside of the office. To make matters worse, the news of her selling the firm to another person reached me not too long ago.

Feeling the cool breeze spreading its whispered words on my exposed skin, I reluctantly leave my balcony to seek warmth indoors. I shut the glass doors loudly and tiredly watch the electric blinds automatically slide down.

A newer home of my own. One of the things I traded my potential relationship with Aera for. It means her safety, but if I knew it would hurt this much, I'm not so sure I would've agreed so quickly. Till now, I recount the way I leapt at the chance at a better life like some greedy, ravenous animal. Of course, it's something I need but it's just better to enjoy if she's here with me.

Everything is. It always is.

She came to me at my lowest.

I never got to see her reaction to my 'death'. I just hope she read the little letter I left her. It was corny, sure, but I meant every word. Apart from the ones about my 'death' of course.

I can't help but feel bitter. I'm grateful for what I have now, but there's a reason I didn't have it before. Not because I didn't have someone to provide it for me. More because I made the decision to get it all on my own.

I still made another loss. I had to give up the painting to its owner anyway. It only hurts because it's the only art piece I wasn't ready to give up. I had an actual, genuine attachment to it. It represented my attachment to the muse herself. The one person I truly desire that I can't have.

After washing the one plate and spoon present in my sink, I turn off all the lights, check for the lock on the door and finally head upstairs.

The area I live in physically is a safe, almost crime-free region. Yes, it's about six thousand kilometres away, so not that far from home, but it's the perfect getaway.

My house, which I found at the best price in the best city, Malé, is modern, but still manages to keep that holiday home look. It's fairly large, a white building with sand just as white surrounding it. It's warm but not too gritty when I walk around bare-footed.

The interior is just as large, if not larger. I keep the walls scarcely decorated, however, only with art pieces of my own.

I'd love to bring Aera here one day. I say one day, not someday because I know for a fact that I'll be seeing her again. There's only one thing stopping me right now.

She's talked about it in the past. About always wanting to own a beach house but never having the time. Now that she's given up the firm, I'm almost a hundred per cent sure she's pursuing another one of her hobbies. Maybe another business. Or travelling the world perhaps.

All sorts of thoughts run through my mind as I wash up and brush my teeth in preparation for bed. But I've obviously spoken too soon because as soon as the lights are off, my head hits the soft pillows and the covers are up to my chin, and my phone rings, bringing me back to my reality.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Did I wake you up?"

Fighting back a sarcastic comment, I glance at the clock on my wall. It's ten o'clock already.

"No." I clear my throat. "I was just about to sleep."

"Oh." She says.

"Is everything alright? Is the baby okay?"

"Yes, yes, everything is fine. And Yoongi, please, we've gone over this before. We both know the gender of the baby, so there's no need to keep on calling her 'the baby'. She's our daughter. I've started coming up with nam-"

"Is that why you've called me so late?"

She chuckles awkwardly. "No, sorry. I just wanted to check up on you."

Though full of immense tiredness, my eyes manage to squint with irritation.

"We both know you only ever 'check up' on me when you need something. What could it be this time? I paid for the appointments already if that's what you want to ask me."

She pauses and as if shameless, proceeds to say, "No, no. I really did just want to check up on you. I'm lonely."

I groan. "Yuna, we've also gone over this. I just hope you'll find it in yourself to remember it before asking me to do the same. I'm not your boyfriend or whatever. The only thing connecting me to you is this damn kid, who you're so convinced belongs to me! I swear if this kid doesn't pass the paternity test, I'm suing you. Mark my words."

"Of course she's yours! Who else's could she possibly be?"

"I don't know and I don't care," I say. "If that is all you have to say to me, goodnight."

Before she can respond, I cut the call and restrain myself from screaming as I grip the sheets. While what I say about the DNA test was mean, I meant every word.

I will sue her and that's that. So much of my money and time is going into a kid I'm not even sure is mine. Heck, I don't know if Taehyung is paying for it too. All I know for now is that this is what's coming in between Aera and me. If this baby really is mine, that would mean that she was conceived during the time period I was still 'alive'.

It's days like these that frustration and anger get the best of me. I switch on my desk lamp and whip out a black pen, writing the usual words of greeting and closing it with words of great meaning. Then, sealing it up, I put it along with the others that are to be sent back home.