Reaching My Star | A Chaennie AU

Chapter 53: Back Home (Jennie 30; Rosé 33)

Their shared apartment felt like a ghost of what it once was. When Rosé arrived first, she walked through the familiar space, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The furniture was still there—the couch where they'd spent countless evenings together, the dining table that had witnessed laughter and tears, the shelves that once held framed photos of their little family. But now, all the personal touches were gone. Jennie's things, Hayoon's toys, the little trinkets they had collected on trips... all of it was missing.

It felt hollow. The emptiness was suffocating.

Rosé sat on the couch, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap as she waited. She hadn't prepared what to say, hadn't practiced any speeches or even run through possible scenarios in her head. She had spent the last few days consumed by thoughts of Jennie, of Hayoon, of everything that had been lost. But when it came to actually talking, her mind drew a blank. The weight of the situation was too much to bear.

This meeting was supposed to be about Hayoon. That was what they had agreed on. But both Rosé and Jennie knew this wasn't just about their daughter. This was about them, about their relationship, about whether there was anything left to salvage. They both knew they would talk alone afterward. And they both knew, no matter how uncertain things felt, they would try to take back the other.

Rosé's heart raced with anticipation and dread.

The door clicked open, and Rosé instinctively straightened up as Jennie entered with Hayoon in tow. Hayoon's small hand was clutching Jennie's, and her face lit up when she saw Rosé.

"Auntie Rosie!" Hayoon ran across the room and wrapped her arms around Rosé, who immediately pulled her into a tight hug. For a moment, all the tension melted away. In that brief, pure moment, Rosé's heart ached at the sight of Hayoon's innocent smile. She had missed her so much.

"Hi, sweetheart," Rosé whispered, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Hayoon replied, burying her face into Rosé's shoulder.

Jennie stood by the door, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked exhausted, her face drawn with stress and sleepless nights. Her eyes met Rosé's for a split second before she looked away, the tension between them palpable. There were so many things left unsaid, so much hurt and confusion tangled between them.

The three of them sat down at the dining table. Hayoon in the middle, Rosé on one side, Jennie on the other. It was awkward. The air was thick with unspoken words, and even Hayoon, as young as she was, could sense something was off.

Hayoon, always so perceptive, looked between Rosé and Jennie, her small brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you and Mommy fighting again like last time?" she asked, her innocent voice cutting through the heavy silence.

Rosé glanced at Jennie, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to lie, but she also didn't want to burden Hayoon with the complexities of their relationship. But she had promised herself she wouldn't disappear from Hayoon's life like her father did. She had to be honest, at least a little. So, she took a deep breath.

"We did fight, sweetheart," Rosé admitted softly, her voice calm but filled with emotion. "But... your mom and I, we're going to be okay. I promise."

Jennie's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing as she turned to Rosé. "Rosie," she said in a low, sharp tone, trying to maintain composure for Hayoon's sake but clearly angry. "Don't lie to her."

Rosé winced at Jennie's words. She wasn't trying to lie, not really. She just didn't want to scare Hayoon, didn't want to let her see how broken things really were.

Jennie stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Hayoon, why don't you go to your room and watch some TV for a little while? We'll talk again later, okay?" Jennie's voice was forced, strained. She was trying to hold it together.

Hayoon looked confused, but she nodded obediently, sensing the tension. "Okay, Mommy," she said softly, standing up from her chair. She glanced back at Rosé as she walked toward her old bedroom, now stripped of most of her things. "You'll be here when I come back, right?" Hayoon asked, her big, hopeful eyes searching Rosé's face.

Rosé forced a smile. "I'll be here," she said, her voice barely steady. Hayoon smiled, then disappeared down the hallway, the sound of the TV turning on in the distance.

As soon as Hayoon was out of sight, the tension between Rosé and Jennie exploded into the room like a wave crashing against the shore.

"Why did you say that?" Jennie demanded, her voice low but fierce. "Why would you tell her everything's going to be okay when you don't know that?"

Rosé stared at Jennie, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Because I don't want her to worry, Jennie. She's just a kid. She doesn't need to be dragged into this mess."

"And you think lying to her is better?" Jennie shot back, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "I'm trying to protect her, not fill her head with false hope."

Rosé shook her head, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "It's not false hope. I'm trying to be positive—for her sake, for your sake."

Jennie's eyes flashed with something unreadable—anger, hurt, regret. "You can't fix this by pretending everything's fine." she said, her voice cracking slightly at the end.

"I'm not pretending." Rosé's voice was soft but firm. She stood up, walking around the table to face Jennie, her expression pained but resolute. "I'm not pretending, Jen. I know I was the one that left, but— I'm not ready to give up. I don't want to give up."

Jennie's eyes softened, her tough exterior cracking just a little. "I know, but you don't understand," she whispered, her voice filled with the weight of everything she had been holding back. "I'm scared. I'm scared that if we keep allowing these things to happen, Hayoon is going to get hurt. I can't... I can't let that happen."

Rosé reached out, hesitating before lightly touching Jennie's arm. "I know you're scared. I am too. But we can't keep pushing each other away because of fear. We love each other, Jennie. I know you still love me."

Jennie's breath hitched, her eyes glistening as she looked down at Rosé's hand on her arm. She wanted to believe it—wanted to believe that love could fix everything, but she didn't know how anymore. All she could see was the endless cycle of doubts and arguments, the looming fear of history repeating itself.

The silence between Jennie and Rosé was almost suffocating. For a moment, they were frozen, trapped in the weight of their shared history and the uncertainty of their future. The tension from their earlier words hadn't disappeared, but there was something softer in the way they looked at each other now. Fragile, like they were standing at the edge of something they were too scared to fall back into, but too scared to walk away from.

Jennie stepped back from Rosé's touch, wiping the remaining tear from her cheek. She took a shaky breath and let her hand drop to her side, her fingers brushing against the cold surface of the dining table, grounding herself. The thought of them falling back into old patterns terrified her, but Rosé's words had stirred something in her—something she wasn't ready to fully confront just yet.

"I should... I should get Hayoon," Jennie said, her voice still shaky, but determined to shift the focus. She glanced toward the hallway, where Hayoon was sitting in her room, blissfully unaware of the conversation unfolding between the two women who loved her most.

Rosé nodded, though her eyes lingered on Jennie, as if trying to gauge her next move. "Yeah. We should talk to her together."

Jennie hesitated. Talking to Hayoon felt like the first real hurdle they'd have to face together again. They had already decided they didn't want to lie to her, but how much could they really tell a four-year-old about the mess between them? How much could she understand?

Still, Jennie knew they had to face it together, even if it was painful.