Somebody Else | Yoongi ✔

I

How does one be able to sleep peacefully at night carrying the weight of guilt? How is a man, with his mistake attached to him like a ghastly spirit on his trail, able to place a kiss on your lips, your cheeks or your forehead, hold you close in bed and proclaim that he loves you? How can he still give a smile, elicit a laugh and have a normal conversation?

Tonight, you wonder how but tomorrow, it'll all circumnavigate back to the main question—why?

Why did he not tell you? Why did he act like nothing happened? Why did he turn you into an oblivious wife, ignorant to his adultery and the debaucherous lifestyle he was in?

You thought nothing of it when he came home one night, excessively late, then it became more frequent but you brushed it off, thinking that work must be hectic that season which required him to use his overnights.

You ignored it and didn't let all those doubts cloud your judgement and perceptions because you trusted him, you loved him and because you made a vow to him—for better and for worse, you'd stay by his side.

But when it got worse, how do you will yourself to stay when it didn't only crushed your heart, it also destroyed your whole being?

The answer is that you can't. You can't will yourself to stay. Not anymore. Not when every part of you shouted and screamed to leave.

You didn't want to accept the reality even when a variety of signs showed you otherwise.

At first, it was the scent of a woman's cologne on his suit whenever you did the laundry with a stain of lipstick on the collar of his undershirt.

Then it would be the discovery of his wedding ring stuffed into one of the pockets of his trousers that when you questioned him about it, he would imperturbably reason that he removes it during his meetings so he could have something to fiddle with inside his pocket whilst listening to what his supervisor says.

Sensing the calibre of your dismay and discomposure about the matter, he appeased you with the way he knew that always worked.

Yoongi leisurely strides to the kitchen, sneaking up behind you while you cooked to kiss your neck, trailing his way down until you tilt your head sideways, his hands snaking on your sides, teasingly lifts your shirt up and down. And you close your eyes as a small moan escapes from the feel of his expert lips kissing and sucking the tender skin.

He breathed in your ear, told you with that low voice of his that he's sorry although back then you didn't know what he really was apologizing for because it was just something minor, something that didn't even need to be a cause of an argument because his reason, you thought, was valid.

He was still yours, with or without a ring. He was yours because you both said your vows, you both promised each other in front of an altar that you will love each other, hold one another in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, until death do you part. But Yoongi knew you inside and out, he could tell your feelings from one glance and he saw that night that it bothered you, making you tensed and in the end, he made love to you until dawn.

And in the morning, you woke up to him brewing you both a coffee.

And in the morning, you let yourself believe that he loves you and only you.

You neglected the signs even though they were practically throwing themselves on you, wanting you to realize that your worst nightmare was not a nightmare anymore. The increasing evidence, the tangible item that served as one, made the ability to swallow a struggle.

At a dinner with Namjoon and his wife, you told Yoongi that you forgot your purse in the car and he nodded distantly at you, passing his keys to your hand.