Taehyung thought he had everything he ever wanted, money, success, and a beautiful, responsible wife. But what he didn't expect was to be drawn to a girl he met at a bar, someone who would shake his emotions and leave him questioning everything.
Now...
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"We will run away, where nobody can see us."
chapter eight
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Taehyung was a man of his word.
For years, he stood by his wife faithfully. He never entertained other women, never crossed a line, never even looked twice. He prided himself on that quiet kind of loyalty—the type that didn't need to be declared, only lived.
And yet here he was now, lying on their marital bed, silently crying over a woman he'd known for just a few weeks.
It was absurd. Pathetic, even.
Taehyung wiped his face, but it didn't stop the tears from returning. He didn't even understand why he was crying. Who falls apart like this over someone they barely know? Why was he mourning a woman who was still very much alive—just... choosing someone else?
And that someone else was her boyfriend.
Taehyung hadn't begged Lisa to stay. He didn't have the right. He couldn't beg a woman to leave her boyfriend, abandon her life plans, and choose him—a married man—just because he felt something. That was selfish. That was insane. That was everything he had never been.
But still... he was hoping. Hoping she'd send a message. Hoping she'd call. Something. Anything.
He reached for his phone again and checked the screen—nothing.
"She couldn't even text before leaving the country?" he whispered under his breath, a bitter laugh following.
He reached for the empty glass on the nightstand and downed the last drop, grimacing. It was water, but it didn't help with the dry ache in his throat.
"We just saw each other hours ago," he muttered, as if trying to excuse her silence. "It's understandable... right?"
Dragging himself from the bed, he trudged to the mirror, staring at the reflection that barely looked like him anymore. His eyes were swollen, his hair a mess, and the exhaustion was bone-deep. He hated looking at himself for too long—always had. There were too many things he never liked about his face, his body, his entire being.
And now, he just looked... miserable.
The sound of the front door opening made his heart lurch. He flinched and instinctively walked into the closet, pretending to search for a shirt.
"Are you drunk again?" Jisoo's voice rang out from the living room, her tone lined with exasperation. "I've come in here twice and you were still lying like a corpse. Taehyung, answer me."
He stayed silent for a moment, then grabbed a shirt off a hanger, pretending to inspect it. When he glanced at the mirror again, Jisoo was already there—arms crossed, staring at him with sharp, unreadable eyes.
