A week had crawled by, but for Jungkook, it felt like an eternity. The sting of betrayal, or at least what he perceived as betrayal, simmered beneath the surface. He'd fled to his mother's house in Busan with his children in tow, leaving Taehyung to stew in the mansion alone. The very thought of his husband failing to recognize him-him, his soul, his essence-still gnawed at his pride. Hyejin had stolen his body, yes, but Taehyung's delay in realizing the truth cut deeper than any spell.
Jungkook sat at the dinner table now, sulking with the kind of dramatic flair only he could muster. His lower lip jutted out in a pout that would have seemed adorable if not for the biting scoffs and muttered grievances that punctuated every other bite. His mother, ever the patient soul, watched him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation as she ladled more stew into Taehee's bowl. Jiwoo, seated beside her little brother, rolled her eyes at her mumma's theatrics but wisely kept quiet.
"Why don't you just talk to him, bun?" Jungkook's mom asked gently, setting down her spoon and folding her hands on the table. She wasn't one to meddle in her son's affairs, but seeing him sulk like a tempestuous child for days on end was testing her resolve.
"Talk?" Jungkook repeated, his voice dripping with indignation. "Talk to him? After what he did? Or didn't do?" He stabbed at a piece of kimchi with his chopsticks, glaring at it as if it were Taehyung himself. "He couldn't even tell it wasn't me, Mom. I mean, seriously, how hard is it to recognize your own husband? Your soulmate? The love of your life?" He waved his chopsticks around dramatically, nearly flicking a piece of rice across the table.
His mother sighed, exchanging a knowing glance with Jiwoo, who stifled a laugh. "Koo, you know Taehyung loves you. He's probably just as upset as you are."
Jungkook scoffed again, crossing his arms. "Doubt it," he muttered, his cheeks puffing out in a pout that made Taehee giggle. The little boy reached out, patting his mumma's arm.
"Mumma, Daddy said he's sorry when he called," Taehee piped up innocently, his big eyes earnest. "He sounded sad."
Jungkook's expression softened for a split second before he quickly masked it with another haughty sniff. "Of course, he's sad," he replied, ruffling Taehee's hair absentmindedly. "He should be. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to forgive him just yet."
Jiwoo finally couldn't hold back her laughter. "Mumma, you're so dramatic," she teased, earning a playful glare from Jungkook.
"I'm not dramatic," he retorted, though the pout still lingered. "I'm just... passionate."
His mother chuckled, shaking her head as she resumed eating. "Passionate or not, you can't stay mad forever, bun. You two have been through worse. Give him a chance to explain."
Jungkook huffed, but deep down, he knew she was right. As much as he wanted to stay mad, a part of him missed Taehyung's presence-the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his voice, the way he always managed to calm Jungkook's storms. But admitting that now? Never. Not until Taehyung worked for it.
For now, he'd enjoy his time in Busan, surrounded by his mother's unwavering love and his children's endless antics. Let Taehyung sweat it out a little longer.
Jungkook sat cross-legged on his bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to Mingyu update him on Hyejin's arrest. "So, the proofs are solid?" Jungkook asked, his tone sharp but curious. He absentmindedly glanced at Taehee and Jiwoo, who were fully immersed in their little game. Taehee, clad in a makeshift knight's helmet crafted from paper, wielded a wooden spoon as his sword, while Jiwoo, draped in a blanket like a royal gown, sat perched on a chair, playing the role of the haughty princess.
"I'm telling you, Kook," Mingyu's voice replied, "her arrest is airtight. Between the surveillance footage, the witnesses, and the confession we managed to squeeze out of her accomplice, she's not walking free anytime soon."
