[ complete ] 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

56. Pizza

Jungkook’s POV

The scent of warm cheese and spices filled the car as I pulled into the driveway. I had even asked them to put extra jalapeños, just the way she liked it these days. Pregnancy cravings could be unpredictable, but I’d noticed the gleam in her eyes last week when she saw someone eating pizza on TV.

She hadn’t asked for anything today—no calls, no messages, not even a rant about how the sunlight was “attacking her eyeballs” again. That was odd. And I hated odd. Especially with her.

The house was dark except for a soft glow upstairs. My brows furrowed.

Something felt… off.

I stepped inside quietly, shutting the door behind me. “Y/n?” I called softly, trying not to sound too worried.

No answer.

I placed the pizza box on the kitchen counter and walked up the stairs. Every step I took, my chest grew tighter.

Then I saw the door to our room slightly ajar.

I pushed it open.

And my heart sank.

She was on the floor. Knees to her chest. Shoulders shaking. Face hidden.

No light in her eyes. No spark. Just… broken.

I didn’t even say her name. I just knelt down beside her and pulled her into my arms. She didn’t resist. In fact, she clutched my shirt like she was drowning.

“Baby,” I whispered, gently rubbing her back. “What happened?”

Her body trembled harder. “I-I’m sorry…” she choked. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry for not believing you.”

My throat tightened.

She pulled back just enough to look at me—her eyes swollen and red, her lips trembling. I cupped her face instantly, wiping the tears with my thumbs.

“Crying isn’t good for your health, hmm?” I murmured, trying to smile, even if my voice cracked a little. “What about the little one, huh? You want our baby to learn crying before breathing?”

That made her cry harder.

She buried her face in my chest again and sobbed, “I thought you… I thought you did those horrible things to Suyeon… because you laughed. That day I asked you if you hurt her and you just laughed so coldly… then you got shot and I—”

I closed my eyes. The memory hit like a whip.

The day she looked at me with those eyes filled with doubt. The day I tried to hide the truth behind a bitter laugh—because the real story was too bloody, too vile, too dark.

I held her tighter. “You asked me,” I whispered. “And I laughed. Not because it was funny… but because it hurt more than any bullet ever could.”

She looked up at me again, tears still streaming. “Then why, Jungkook? Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why did you hide everything? Why didn’t you kill that monster when you had the chance?”

Her voice cracked like shattered glass.

I stared at her, my fingers tracing her cheek gently.

“Because,” I began slowly, my voice lower now, “if I had told you everything… the blood, the screams, the tapes, the truth about Junghyun—how he raped a fifteen-year-old girl and erased her like trash—I knew you’d never forgive yourself for being kind to him. For letting him near you.”

I exhaled shakily.

“I wanted to protect your innocence. You’ve seen so much darkness already, Y/n… I didn’t want to be another scar.”