His Devious Love✓(Book 1)

New lives

I hopped on my bike, putting on my helmet, and rode to the hospital Jimin hyung had mentioned.

"Jungkook, you're here," Jimin hyung said, tears welling up in his eyes.

"What's he done now?" I asked quietly, pretending not to care, even though deep down, I still did, and I hated myself for it.

Eight months ago, he could blame his sickness for what happened. But who could I blame? He did what he did because he was sick. And why did I do what I did? Because I loved him. I trusted him more than I trusted her.

I ignored whatever Soo Hyun had told me. I didn't trust his words, but I trusted him. How could I not? We've been friends for years.

"He tried to drown himself. I found him at the pool, not breathing," Jimin hyung said sadly. I clenched my teeth in frustration.

Coward.

"Do you want to see him?" he asked gently.

I looked away.

"Jungkook—"

"Hyung, I'm leaving," I interrupted abruptly.

"But—"

"Excuse me," a woman's voice interrupted us.

"Can I talk to you, Mr. Jeon?" she asked. I looked her up and down. She was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope around her neck.

"I'm Dr. Lee Hana, Mr. Kim's doctor," she said.

"Okay," I replied shortly.

"Please come to my office, both of you," she said.

We followed her to her office and sat down.

She showed us something on a screen.

"This part of our brain is called the amygdala. It's where we keep our feelings. Mr. Kim has amygdala hijack. People with this can't control their feelings. They react without thinking and then regret it later. When they feel they might lose someone, they'll do anything to keep that person close. We all have this to some extent, but when it gets out of control, it becomes an illness. In 70% of cases where family members harm each other, this is involved. In a moment of anger, they don't realize what they're doing, but later they feel terrible about it. It's the same for Mr. Kim. He didn't mean to hurt Annie—" she paused, looking at me.

Tears started to fill my eyes, but I fought them back.

"He didn't know what he was doing at that moment. Now, he's punishing himself for something he wasn't fully responsible for."

"Why are you telling me this? I don't want to hear about him," I said, standing up and heading for the door. But her next words stopped me.

"Only you can help him, Mr. Jeon."

I turned back to look at her.

"In every therapy session, he talks about only two people: you and her. She's not here anymore—" she saw my angry, hurt eyes and understood.

"Please, only you can help him. He really needs you," she pleaded sincerely.

I walked out of her office, feeling defeated. It wasn't like I hadn't tried before—I had, over and over again, but each attempt ended in failure.

Her face haunted me, especially the way she tried to escape from him, desperate enough to risk the balcony of the tenth floor. My heart twisted at the thought—she was willing to die rather than live with him. How terrified must she have been?

But he was sick, they kept saying.

I pushed open the door to his room, and my eyes widened in shock.

He held a scalpel in his hand, about to cut his wrist.