✔️ Unconditionally [Book 2] | Jeon Jungkook

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"He's dead."

Jungkook's blinked a few times, his brow raising and lips parting. He looked just as stunned as Hyun-Ji felt, only she couldn't outwardly express her emotion like he could.

She didn't know how to feel.
What feeling was the correct one?

"He's dead?" Jungkook asked.

The ideal image of what a good person should be gave her a list of things she should feel:

Sad. Heartbroken. Mournful at the loss of life, no matter who it was. Bereaved of the man that she knew as her father for 20 years.

Hyun-Ji answered his question by nodding slowly, her eyes falling on a random spot on the bed. Unfocused, she stared at the ripples of the blanket covering their bodies.

But the small voice of her true self, the one residing behind the mask of the persona she showed the outside world, told her what she actually felt:

Relief.

"What happened?" He asked.

Relief that her last remaining problem had been erased. Relief that the dark presence lingering in the background of her happy life had finally dissipated. Relief that he would never have the chance to abuse her or anyone else again.

Guilty that she felt this way.

"Mom said his body was found in the trunk of his car," she heard herself say. "The police think the spouse of one of his lovers found him and  killed him."

A good person wouldn't have felt this way. A good person would have started to cry.
A good person wouldn't have felt the slight flutter of happiness in her stomach that one gets when given the news they had been hoping for.

A good person would have felt dread lock her abdomen into a tight ball at the news of her parental figure no longer being alive.

Jungkook pushed his messy fringe away from his face. "Holy fuck..."

The idealized version of her began to quickly pack those emotions away like an oversleeping procrastinator packs the rest of their clothes the morning of their flight. The guilt, the relief, the subtle happiness that he could never bother her again, and a sense of justice because the universe had deemed his offenses worthy of the ultimate form of punishment.

The conflict was neatly enclosed, the flaps sealed shut by shame, and the entire package was pushed to the corner of her mind where her darkest thought converged.

She felt him move closer, felt his arm wrap around her shoulder and his lips rest on the top of her head. He was trying to comfort her when she didn't need it.

"Are you ok?"

Her head barely moved when she nodded that she was. His hand moved up and down her arm soothingly.

"Talk to me," he said.

She would if she knew what to say.