Unmatched

Part 5

"Save it. I'm done."

The situation you're in, seems to you, to be on the extreme end of ludicrous.

Whilst you recognise that the stability of your relationship might sometimes be likened to that of a ticking time bomb, you always believed you were stronger than this. Able to withstand more than Hyunjin and his veiled accusation of your adultery.

Yet it seems you're wrong.

Again.

Minho's taken to Hyunjin's bait like a waiting koi carp, seeing fit to dish out his own threat with the cold, blunt statement.

Wracked with dread, you almost don't want to ask.

Though you suppose you must.

"Done with what?"

"What do you think?" he gesticulates wildly, as though to the tension Hyunjin's left behind. "With this marriage. With you. With this whole fucking thing."

Illogical. Rash. Utterly unreasonable.

"Can you not just give me a second to explain?" you appeal. "I promise you; he made that sound far worse than it actually is."

"But he's not lying, is he?"

You swallow, throat drying out with the darkness in Minho's eyes, the poison to his question.

"Today isn't the first time you've seen him, is it? You went to his place?" he presses.

"I— I mean, yes, it's not the first time, but—"

"So, you did go to his place?" Minho seethes, accusatory, face twisted with pain.

You can't help but feel like a fly trapped in a viscous web. You know nothing of note really occurred at Hyunjin's—in truth, you were just looking for a friend—but all the same, you never really stood a chance of downplaying it. Your simple presence there at all is enough to destroy any lingering fragments of trust Minho has in you, and you knew it at the time.

"I did, but it was just to talk," you clarify hopelessly.

"Right," he sneers.

"I mean it, I just needed someone to talk to, Minho. Outside of the club, away from my life. I know it was fucking stupid, but nothing happened, you have to know that."

"Was it that night?"

You choke on the question, expecting a barrage of emotional turmoil from him. Of course, you know the night he's referring to; the night you were thrown into disarray on his betrayal, the night you ordered him to stay away and sought solace elsewhere.

The mere thought of his indiscretion seems enough to bring back the anger tenfold.

Hypocrite.

"Yes," you deadpan. "It was. Sue me, but for some reason I wasn't thinking straight."

He rolls his eyes, bites on his lip in building irritation.

"Don't fucking start with me," he warns. "You are in no position to get holier than thou."

"In no position?!" you gawp. "You're hilarious. If you hadn't done what you did, I never would have gone to see him. Wouldn't have needed to. I would have gone home, with you, just like I was fucking supposed to."

Minho scoffs a laugh, disingenuous, rife with bitter resentment.

"Of course, this is all my fault. I make a single goddamn mistake and it's somehow enough for you to go running back to the only other guy you know to get fucked."