Taekook and the ECLIPSE

45 | The Rest of Eternity

I didn't get very far before driving became impossible. When I couldn't see anymore, I let my tires find the rough shoulder and rolled slowly to a stop. I slumped over on the seat and allowed the weakness I'd fought in Minghyu's room crush me. It was worse that I'd thought — the force of it took me by surprise. Yes, I had been right to hide this from Minghyu. No one should ever see this.

But I wasn't alone for very long — just exactly long enough for Jimin to see me here, and then the few minutes it took him to arrive. The door creaked open, and he pulled me into his arms.

At first it was worse. Because there was that smaller part of me — smaller, but getting louder and angrier every minute, screaming at the rest of me — that craved a different set of arms. So then there was fresh guilt to season the pain.

He didn't say anything, he just let me sob until I began to blubber out Jaewoo's name.

"Are you really ready to go home?" he asked doubtfully.

I managed to convey, after several attempts, that it wasn't going to get any better anytime soon. I needed to get past Jaewoo before it got late enough for him to call Minho.

So he drove me home — for once not even getting close to my truck's internal speed limit — keeping one arm wrapped tightly around me. The whole way, I fought for control. It seemed to be a doomed effort at first, but I didn't give up. Just a few seconds, I told myself. Just time for a few excuses, or a few lies, and then I could break down again. I had to be able to do that much.

I scrambled around in my head, searching desperately for a reserve of strength. There was just enough for me to quiet the sobs — hold them back but not end them. The tears didn't slow. I couldn't seem to find any handle to even begin to work with those.

"Wait for me upstairs," I mumbled when we were in front of the house. He hugged me closer for one minute, and then he was gone.

Once inside, I headed straight for the stairs.

"Kook?" Jaewoo called after me from his usual place on the sofa as I walked by.

I turned to look at him without speaking. His eyes bugged wide, and he lurched to his feet.

"What happened? Is Minghyu . . . ?" he demanded.

I shook my head furiously, trying to find my voice. "He's fine, he's fine," I promised, my voice low and husky. And Minghyu was fine, physically, which is all Jaewoo was worried about at the moment.

"But what happened?" He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes still anxious and wide."What happened to you?"

I must look worse than I'd imagined.
"Nothing, Dad. I . . . just had to talk to Minghyu about . . . some things that were hard. I'm fine."

The anxiety calmed, and was replaced by disapproval.

"Was this really the best time?" he asked.

"Probably not, Dad, but I didn't have any alternatives — it just got to the point where I had to choose. . . . Sometimes, there isn't any way to compromise."