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33: genuine

Jungkook stood outside his house, his hand hovering over the doorknob. His heart pounded in his chest, and his stomach churned with anxiety. The thought of facing his parents again made his palms sweat. But Taehyung's words echoed in his mind, grounding him: "I don't want you to regret not trying."

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook turned the knob and stepped inside.

The house was quiet. Jungkook's parents were in the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, their expressions unreadable. They looked up when he entered, their eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Jungkook," his mother said, her voice cautious. "You're back."

Jungkook nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I wanted to talk."

His parents exchanged a glance, and for a moment, no one spoke. Then, his father gestured to the armchair across from them. "Sit down."

Jungkook hesitated before walking over and sitting down, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until his mother finally broke it.

"We're sorry," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "For what we said. For... for how we've been."

Jungkook's breath hitched, and he looked up at her, his eyes wide with surprise. He hadn't expected an apology-not so soon, not so directly.

His father cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on the floor. "We've been... thinking," he said slowly. "About what you said. About how we've been absent. And we... we realize we've made mistakes."

Jungkook's chest tightened, and he swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Mistakes?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "You think it's just... mistakes?"

His mother winced, her hands twisting in her lap. "We know it's more than that," she admitted. "We know we haven't been there for you. And we... we regret that."

Jungkook's eyes burned, and he looked away, his jaw clenching. "You don't get it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not just about you not being there. It's about... it's about how I felt. How I feel. Like I didn't matter. Like I was just... an afterthought."

His parents were silent, their expressions pained. His mother reached out, her hand hovering over his before pulling back. "We never meant to make you feel that way," she said softly. "We just... we got so caught up in our work, in our lives, that we forgot what was most important."

Jungkook's breath hitched, and he wiped at his face roughly, his fingers trembling. "You don't know what it's like," he whispered. "To stand there, and watch every other kid with their parents. To come home to an empty house every day. To feel like... like I wasn't worth your time."

His father's face crumpled, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Jungkook," he said, his voice hoarse. "We're sorry. Truly. We... we don't know how to fix this, but we want to try."

Jungkook looked at them, his heart aching. He wanted to believe them, wanted to trust that they meant it. But the wounds were deep, and the fear of being hurt again was overwhelming.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," he admitted, his voice breaking. "Not yet. But... I want to try too."

His mother's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out, this time taking his hand in hers. "That's all we can ask for," she said, her voice trembling. "We love you, Jungkook. We always have. We just... we didn't show it the way we should have."

Jungkook's chest tightened, and he squeezed her hand, his own tears spilling over. "I love you too," he whispered. "But I need you to show me. I need you to be here."