𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 || 𝐊𝐓𝐇

Chapter-28: Hurting feelings

Millie

It’s been two days. Two days since Taehyung began distancing himself from me. Two days since he stopped talking to me, barely even sparing a glance my way. I’ve tried reaching out, tried asking him what’s wrong, but he brushes me off every time. “I’m busy,” he says, dismissing me like I’m a stranger in my own home.

I’ve stopped trying now. What’s the point? I’ve stopped putting in the effort, stopped hoping that things will magically work out between us. Why bother? He doesn’t care, never has. To him, I’m just a pawn in his twisted game of revenge.

As I sat in our room, staring blankly at the wall, lost in my thoughts, I heard the door creak open. Taehyung walked in, looking exhausted, his expression unreadable. He tossed his bag to the floor carelessly and flopped down on the bed beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight.

I didn’t even turn to look at him. What would be the point? He wasn’t here to talk to me or acknowledge my presence.

“Millie,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to talk to you about something.” I glanced at him briefly, my voice calm but devoid of emotion. “What is it?”

“It’s about the party tomorrow night,” he began, sitting up slightly. “I think... maybe you shouldn’t come.” I frowned, turning to face him. “Why not?”

He hesitated for a moment before responding, “Because it’s not a good idea. You know how those people can be—they’ll look for ways to criticize you. It’s better if you don’t put yourself through that.”

I scoffed, bitterness creeping into my tone. “Since when do you care about what I go through, Taehyung? Stop pretending like you care about me.”

His eyes narrowed at my words. “You think I’m pretending?”

“Yes!” I snapped, unable to hold back the frustration that had been building inside me.

His face darkened, and his voice dropped, cold and sharp. “I think it’s my fault for even asking you. I forgot—you’re a selfish person. You only care about yourself.”

I felt my blood boil as his words hit me like a slap. “How dare you call me selfish! I’ve done nothing but try to make this work, to care for you, to care about this marriage. You’re the one who’s been distant, who’s made me feel like I don’t even matter!”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re just playing the victim now, Millie. Trying to make me feel guilty. But tell me—why do you even care about this marriage? You know why I married you.”

The words stung more than I could bear. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “Did you ever even try to listen to me?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“I don’t want to listen to you,” he shot back, his voice cold and final. “I don’t want to hear your excuses or lies. I just want you to leave me alone.”

I stood there, stunned, his words ringing in my ears. “Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

I turned to walk away, but something inside me forced me to stop and face him again. I needed answers, even if they would hurt.

“Why do you always act like this with me?” I asked softly, my voice carrying all the pain and confusion I felt.

His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flickered with something—anger, guilt, I couldn’t tell.

“Like what?” he asked, his tone indifferent.

“Like deep inside you hate me,” I said, my voice cracking.

His gaze hardened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, in a voice as cold as ice, he said, “Because I do. I do hate you.”

It felt like the ground beneath me had crumbled. His words hit me like a wrecking ball, shattering the fragile hope I’d been holding onto. My chest tightened, and I struggled to breathe, the weight of his hatred suffocating me.

I turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t know where I was going—I just needed to get away, to escape the suffocating pain his words had caused.

I wandered aimlessly, my mind racing with questions I had no answers to. Why was he like this? Why did he go out of his way to hurt me, to push me away? I knew there was more to him than the cold, bitter man he pretended to be. I had seen it in his moments of vulnerability, the rare glimpses of the man he could be.

Deep down, I felt that he cared. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew it. There were moments, fleeting and rare, where his actions betrayed his words. Moments when I saw something in his eyes—pain, regret, longing.

So why was he doing this? Why was he so determined to push me away? How far was he willing to go to convince himself that he didn’t care? I didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t over. Not yet.

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