Dear Honey | HeeJayke

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2: ᴅᴇꜱᴀᴘᴀʀᴇᴄɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴏ

Jake's POV

The morning sun peeked through the curtains as I stirred on the sofa, my first thoughts drifting to Heeseung. With a groan, I pulled myself up and padded upstairs, my heart thumping as I approached our bedroom door.

"Hon?" I called softly, pressing an ear against the wooden door. Silence. My hand trembled slightly as I turned the knob, revealing an empty room. "Heeseung?" My voice echoed through the house, met only by the faint ticking of the clock.

Sighing, I fished out my phone, thumbs dancing across the keypad as I typed out a message.

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Honey

6:28 AM

Hon
Hon where are you?

Sorry about last night.

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I tucked the device away, hoping Heeseung would see it soon.

I rummaged through our shared closet, pulling out a black suit and slacks. This little town might be off the beaten path, but I was set on landing a position at the local law firm.

As warm water cascaded over me in the shower, my mind raced. Yesterday's argument with Heeseung played on repeat, combined with thoughts of our neighbor, Susan. The whole mess left a knot in my stomach.

Dressed and slightly more composed, I found myself on Susan's porch, hand poised to knock. The door swung open, revealing Susan's warm smile. "Well, if it isn't Jake! What brings you here?"

I shuffled my feet, cheeks flushing. "Listen, about last night... That was totally out of line. We shouldn't have-"

"Oh, hush now," Susan interrupted, waving her hand. "Water under the bridge. Heeseung already stopped by and a basket of fruit to say sorry."

I blinked, surprised. "He... he did?"

"Yeah," Susan nodded. "Quite the gentleman when he wants to be."

"I... wow. Well, I'd better go now," I said, straightening my tie. "Got a date with the courthouse, hoping to sweet-talk my way into a job."

Susan's eyes twinkled. "Oh, you'll knock their socks off. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you."

As I walked down the street, I felt relieved that at least Heeseung was out there, somewhere, trying to make things right.

I stepped into the courthouse, my polished shoes echoing on the worn marble floor. The building, like much of the town, seemed frozen in time. The scent of old paper and wood polish filled the air as I approached the information desk.

"Morning, ma'am," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm here about the lawyer position."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "Well, ain't that something. We don't get many newcomers 'round these parts, let alone lawyers. You'll want to speak with Lilith McMillan up on the second floor. Take the stairs to your right. Elevator ain't workin'."

I nodded my thanks and climbed the creaky wooden staircase. The second floor was a maze of offices, but I soon found myself face-to-face with a stern-looking woman in her mid-fifties.

"Miss Lilith McMillan?" I asked, extending my hand.

She shook it firmly. "That's right. And you must be Jake Sim. Word travels fast in a town like this. Come on in."