from me to you. → kth | ✓

45.

chapter forty-five: sob story

I'M GONNA DO it. I'm finally going to take charge. And to do that, I need to have the upper hand.

That means doing what Hoseok said.

The one thing connecting me to everyone else is the stupid notebook. I need to get my hands on it and destroy it or something. Maybe mail it to Antarctica.

I just want my baby and me to be safe. Is that too much to ask? I doubt it is, which is why I'm sitting in front of one of the last people I would like to see. Taehyung.

"What were you trying to tell me when you brought the petition documents?" I ask, trying to remain relaxed as I prepare to hear the worst.

He takes a deep breath. "My mum was assassinated."

I raise an eyebrow. "What does this explain, exactly?"

He scoffs. "Have some sympathy for me, Aera. I was sixteen."

My tight facial expression softens as he visibly recounts the mentioned events. Maybe that's why there was radio silence. There wasn't really anyone around to support him either.

I can't help but feel bad. He's clearly struggling to talk about this as well, as I notice the tight grip he has on the fabric of his trouser leg.

"It was just-There was so much...blood. It was everywhere. Splattered across walls and-" He makes a sound closely, very closely, linked with pain. Like an audible gasp that sounds like he's crying when he isn't. It's truly heart-wrenching.

"You say my mother did this?" I ask. It's supposed to surprise me (which it does, just not significantly) but it doesn't, seeing as I may or may have not heard of worse ever since I was let in on this secret world and double life people I thought I knew have been living. "How are you so sure it was her?"

He scoffs. "I investigated her death properly when no one else would. Not even my own father. That's when I met Yuna. She helped me get significant evidence to help support my hunch. Turns out my hunch happened to be right."

I shrug. "Then what? I know how you were when we were younger. You don't give up on things easily."

"I-I got with you."

"What?" I ask, unable to know if I heard him right or not.

"Your mother contacted me after Mark 'died'. It was the best way to get close enough to acquire enough evidence. I didn't know if you were with your mother or not. I mean, you 'killed' a man and didn't feel any remorse."

I chuckle humorlessly. "Let's say I ended up having actual feelings for you. What would you have done then? You used me!"

"It wasn't meant to be like that." He calmly says, shaking his head.

I immediately find that I had been operating on autopilot as I slap him right across the face.

"I need everything but lies right now, so I suggest you think before you speak."

He's still in invisible shock due to what literally hit him. He slowly turns to face me again, shame and guilt evident in his eyes. Despite that, he still maintains eye contact.

"Your mother killed my mother. I just wanted revenge. I didn't-I didn't expect it to get this far-"

"How far did you want it to go, then, huh? Till what, you get your revenge and leave me behind? You left me alone with my abuser!"

By this point, I didn't even realise tears were falling till I felt the wetness of them on the skin of my hands.

"How could you?" I ask. It's more of a quiet beg. A beg to know why most of the people in my life seek nothing but the worst for me when I have done nothing to wrong them.

"I don't know why I did what I did that day, Aera. But I can't promise you that I still don't feel the guilt."

"Guilt?" I scoff humorlessly. "Who says you feel 'guilt'? Pity," I say, standing up and moving towards him. My voice rises with each word leaving my mouth. "Is what you feel you disgusting, good for nothing piece of-"

I watch, still in blinding anger, as he can do nothing but shield his face with his forearms as I come down on him like a ton of bricks, literally.

I pummel him with very emotional, very expressive fists that have been fighting to remain hidden behind my back till this very day when I am in the right to do this.

"Ow! Aera, you're hurting me!"

I scratch at his hands even when I realise that they're bleeding. "It's supposed to hurt you bastard!"

I wish to continue, as I'm finally getting him to break, but Haneul's wailing interrupts me before I can.

I let go and walk over to where he was sitting with his toys around him. He's bawling his eyes out, so he's clearly upset about something. However, just as I reach down to pick him up, a more masculine, quite injured pair of hands gets to him first.

I watch with, weirdly, only slight disdain as he coos with him and lightly bounces him up and down. But what I hate the most at this moment, is the love he has in his eyes.

It's almost as if he recognises his own son.

Then, he turns to me and asks the one question I have been dreading for so long, no matter how many times he asks it.

"Who's kid is he?"

I take a deep breath. If I'm going to go according to plan, I have to go through every calculated step no matter what happens.

"He's yours," I say, looking away.

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't make this too difficult."

"Cut that out, okay?" He says. He carefully seats Haneul again and rubs his hand down his face. "You can't keep acting like you didn't just drop the largest bomb on me mid-sentence. Did you just say he's my kid?"

"Yes, Taehyung. Don't make this harder than this already is. I don't have the time nor the energy-"

"But don't you get it? This is unbelievable news." He clasps both of my hands in his. "I was told I could never have children again."

"Get your hands off me," I say monotonously. "Don't ever touch me again."

"Sorry."

"Shut up. Stop apologising." I won't lie, I'd hate to admit that the reason I'm irritated is the joy he had as he told me those words. What happened to him being easier to hate?

"I didn't bring you here to hear your stupid sob story alone." I try to control the pitch of my voice as I command probably the boldest thing ever. "You're going to help me get the notebook back."