[1] Gone Groom | Seonghwa ✓

eight | aftermath

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'WELL, IT'S NOT ENTIRELY UNBELIEVABLE. I mean, that's a common reaction,' Bae says whilst holding frozen broccoli to my reddened palm, the coldness pinching at the skin there in the most discomforting way and it makes me wince. 'Sorry.'

   I only shake my head in response. My mouth feels weaker than my body does and I wonder if I'll be able to verbalize for the next few hours.

   'You know what they say: no pain, no gain,' she jokes.

   Then why doesn't it feel like I've benefited from any of this. No. Letting Bae drag me away from him squeezed my heart so tight in my chest that at a point, the air supply through my windpipe kept lessening until it nearly ceased. It threw me into an embarrassing coughing fit. Fortunately, we had been a good kilometer or so away from the club—away from him—that I wasn't at all bothered about him seeing me for what I truly was since this morning. Since months ago. But then again, my mottled cheeks were a good enough giveaway, and I'm overly certain Seonghwa knows exactly how much pain he's inflicted.

   Months of endless declarations of love and playing house would do that to someone.

   'Are you okay? You haven't said a word since we returned,' Bae's voice is benign on enquiry as a consoling arm drops onto my shoulders. Far be it from me to meet her eyes however. The floodgates are opening up again.

   Darn it!

  A simple shake of my head will suffice, I think, yet my fingers tangle and untangle with each other in a way obvious enough to construe my intentions.

   I can't say that I'm bothered by it any longer.

   Bae can go ahead and insult me; scold me for holding onto someone who's undeniably broken me beyond repair. She can stand up and leave because I'm not worth the hoopla, except...

   Except that's not my best friend. It won't be the girl I pinky swore with at twelve years of age to never leave each other no matter what.

   Best friends to the end—that has been our decade long pact. More than a decade considering how long I've known the girl. And though my mind is still battling it out with my heart (maybe) over wanting him here irrespective of what has happened, common sense tells me that her presence is the only thing I should be needing right now.

   Throwing caution to the wind, I envelope her in a hug. A bone-crushing one that elicits a low grunt from her as she tries to breath. But Bae does nothing and lets me drown in her comfort—the only available one which is more than enough. When she returns the hug, I read her crystal clear: It's going to be okay.

   But is it?

   With every iota of doubt, I disagree. Not when I still want him back and my so-called emotional wound wasn't going to familiarize itself with any form of healing except Seonghwa does come back.

   'I miss him.'

   'Oh, honey,' she coos and whispers. 'I know.'

   '... shouldn't have slapped him.'

   'Don't distress over it, he deserved it. The douche knows that too.'

   I like to assume Seonghwa will be pissed before anything else. I impaired his pride in public, notwithstanding his intoxicated state. Personally, I don't think I had handled issues very prudently.

   Maybe we should have talked.

   Maybe.

   'Sh-Should I have listened to him?'