pt 2 of congratulations! that i wrote like 2939948293 years ago lmao
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a week later jungkook got the papers in the mail and he scoffed, partly in disbelief and partly in despair as he saw her neat, curly signature already imprinted into the creamy sheets.
she didn't even want to come by to do this personally; it was as if she didn't even want to see his face again.
he didn't want to admit that the revelation hurt him more than he thought it would.
without thinking he dialled her number, only to have it go straight to voicemail.
"dammit," he cursed under his breath, slamming his fist on what used to be their marble counters.
he wondered if he would sell the place.
everywhere he looked, he saw her memory.
sometimes he would come home late from work and the light would be on, and he would think that she would be in the kitchen, grace in her smile and adoration in the meal she made for him.
but then he realized it's on because he's bad at taking care of himself, and she was the one who always turned the lights off after him, an amused smile on her face.
he doesn't think he would be able to bear living among her memories, however fleeting they may be.
but then he thinks that if he sells it, another couple could move in, and cook in the kitchen she always graced her presence with, or brush their teeth together at the sinks they used to share, or make love in the bedroom they never got to.
he listens brokenly as her voice fills up the empty spaces, and wonders if this is the only way he'll be able to hear her voice anymore; through her voice recordings as she refuses to answer his calls once again.
he hangs up before it gets to the message part, because he doesn't think he has the courage to leave one for her anyways. he's too pathetic.
his phone rings as he looks away, tapping his pen on the counter.
the ridiculous, half hopeful part of him wishes it were her, and that's what makes him lunge for his phone only to see it's his mother.
he pushes away the disappointment and answers, willing himself not to let her know he's upset.
it was too late though, he realized, when he heard her frantic voice filter through the speakers.
"jungkook, what happened? i heard you broke off the marriage."
there was a pause, and jungkook could practically feel her sadness through the phone. she loved his wife dearly; she was like the daughter she never had. in fact, his mothers insistence to go through with the marriage had been the deciding factor for him to actually do it, albeit grudgingly.
"i messed up," he said, because it really was the only thing he could say.
he had messed up when he went and cheated on his wife, and then he messed up again when he let her walk away.
jungkook thinks about it a lot, wonders if maybe he had been more insistent, if he had begged her more, if he had gotten on his knees instead.
