53. Blamed

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Taehyung let out a frustrated sigh, staring at his phone screen as he tried dialing Jimin's number once again.

His fingers tapped anxiously against the side of his phone, but just like before, there was no answer. The endless ringing on the other end only deepened the pit in his stomach.

"Did Jimin answer already?" Jin asked, shifting his daughter in his arms as he tried to get Taehyung's attention. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

Taehyung shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. "He didn't." His voice was tight with worry. It was already seven in the morning, and not once since last night had he received a message from Jimin. That wasn't normal. Jimin would never go this long without replying-especially not after everything that had been happening.

Jin frowned, bouncing his daughter gently as he processed Taehyung's words. "That's odd," he muttered, though he tried to keep his voice neutral. But deep inside, he was beginning to feel uneasy too.

"I don't know, hyung, but I have a really bad feeling," Taehyung admitted, his brows furrowing. He couldn't shake off the anxiety building in his chest. Something wasn't right. He could feel it.

Jin blinked, staring at him for a moment before forcing a small, reassuring smile. "Don't overthink it," he said, though even he wasn't sure if he believed his own words. He wanted to be logical, to trust that everything was fine. "They're probably together. Maybe he's just sleeping in with his husband."

Taehyung bit his lip, his gaze flickering toward the baby girl nestled in Jin's arms. He watched as the little one yawned, completely unaware of the growing tension between the adults.

"Yeah..." Taehyung finally mumbled, though the unease in his chest didn't fade. He nodded, trying to convince himself that Jin was right. That Jimin was safe. That everything was okay.

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Jimin slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the harsh sunlight that streamed through the window. His body felt heavy, drained from everything that had happened.

As he rubbed his swollen eyes, the cold floor beneath him reminded him that he had fallen asleep in the kitchen. His clothes were wrinkled, untouched since last night.

Then it hit him-

Jungkook.

Their child.

The gun.

And Jungkook... leaving.

Tears welled in his eyes again as he curled into himself on the floor, hugging his knees. His life was a mess, spiraling into something he could no longer control.

Did Jungkook really leave him?

The thought made his breath hitch. He hadn't meant what he said last night-he just wanted to stop Jungkook from leaving.

He wanted to chase after him, but his body had given up. His legs wouldn't move, and his heart ached too much to even try.

Now, fear clawed at him. What if Jungkook did something he couldn't take back?

A dark thought crept into his mind-should he end everything, too?

But no. He couldn't give up. Not when there was still a chance.

Forcing himself to his feet, he swayed slightly, feeling dizzy and sick. He didn't even bother washing his face as he staggered toward the front door, his heart pounding in his chest.

The moment he stepped outside, he froze.

Jungkook.

His husband was sitting on the porch, curled into himself, head buried in his arms.

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