MAL'S soft sigh escaped her throat as she knocked on the door to the room she shared with her lover, tears collecting in her eyes at the noise of his soft, muffled sobs that echoed through her ears.

"Baby..." Her fist knocked on the door once, twice before she gathered her courage to twist the doorknob open, her head peeking inside the dim-lit room. "Baby, I'm here. I got you."

"He's just going through a rough day, Mal. Maybe even a rough life." Chan had warned her earlier that day. "Please, take care of him. Please."

"I'm coming in, okay?" She stepped inside the room and quietly closed the door behind her. The soft, almost inaudible noise of her footsteps was all she could hear for a few moments before she finally hopped on the bed, sliding off her shoes in the process.

"Baby," she whispered, her arms stretched open and her heart wrenched at his smothered sobs. "It's okay, sweetheart."

And as soon as he realized it, his body inched its way in her direction to throw himself into her arms, sinking his face into her chest to hide his red, puffy eyes that signaled that he had been crying for a long while.

"I love you, Felix." Her tone was above a whisper, yet it told him everything he needed to know. "I love you more than anything."

Her grip around his waist grew tighter for a few, long minutes. His weak body carved itself into hers, leaving no space in between. He knew that the least thing he could do at that moment was whisper something back...

But, for some reason, he couldn't.

All he could do was sob his heart out as she cuddled him.

"I'm sorry, love." She apologized, tears finally escaping her eyes, blurring her vision. "I'm sorry I didn't have my attention on you lately. I know how you're going through a tough time."

His sobs slowed down, his grip slightly loosening around her figure.

"You're so strong, baby." She muttered. "I love you, and I'm so grateful for you."

He nodded his head slowly, telling her that he knew about the amount of infinite love she had for him. All he needed to do was show her his amount of love for her.

"I love you too, baby..." He whispered, his voice shaking as his head rested on her shoulder, his face sunken into her neck. "I love you so much."

She smirked, her fingers running through his soft, long hair. Placing a gentle kiss on his temple, she then traced her fingers on his face.

"Good boy."

The compliment sent butterflies up his stomach.

"Thank you..."

The comfortable sound of silence soon echoed through the room, with only their rigged breaths as the only thing they could hear.

"Felix?"

He allowed his eyes to watch her face as she whispered his name. The face he admired for over three years, the face that reassured him along with the body that embraced his whenever it got the chance, the same face that sent him immediate warmth whenever he asked for some (and even if he didn't).

"Yes, baby?"

"You know how much I love you and I love how we're always together through thick and thin." Her breath shook as her eyes barely closed, finally gathering the courage to say what she wanted to say for over three months. The adrenaline bumped through her veins as memories flooded her mind, memories of them spending quality time together, the image of them cuddling while watching a movie they both admired, the image of her hand resting just above his hips as she pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "Would you like us to—"

Knock knock.

The couple's heads bolted towards the door, where the noise echoed through the room for a mere second.

"Guys!" Jisung's familiar voice called out, and soon the shadow of his soft footsteps disappeared into the hallway. "It's time for dinner! Get down here before someone eats your food."

Mal sighed and gathered her remaining energy to sit up straight, her breath stopping at her nostrils in pure annoyance.

"Goddamit..." She swore under her breath, soon getting up from her side of the bed.

"Baby..." Felix's almost inaudible whisper caused her to turn around immediately, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and it didn't take a detective for him to know that she was upset at something. "What did you want to say?"

Her eyelashes blinked at him a couple of times before she turned around once again, her fist already wrapped around the doorknob to unlock it.

"It's nothing, sweetheart." Her voice was almost melancholic and hesitant, yet he could tell she was trying to keep her strength. "Let's go eat."

Felix let out a huff of dismay, the air pushing a strand of hair away from his exhausted face as he got up from the king-sized bed as well, quietly following her out of the room.

. . .

"You know why you're under arrest, don't you, Mr Gluck?" The main detective, Ahmed, firmly began, his hands clutched together and his elbows above the table.

"No, I don't know, detective," Jonathan spoke through gritted teeth. "Please, enlighten me."

The detective's expression dropped into a much darker one, his eyes sending the man in front of him a death glare.

"Mr Gluck, I assure you, if you don't cooperate with us, you're going to have a very difficult time here in prison. As you can see, all evidence points at you. Pleading not guilty will bring a much longer sentence than you expect."

The man rolled his eyes at the words, one of his legs above the other.

"So the whore is alive, huh?" The man taunted. "Just like his mother, he's great at acting and pretending to be the victim. Of course, he spoke about me like I'm some sort of a demon—"

"Speaking of Amanda Gluck..." The detective interrupted, his hand reaching somewhere behind the desk to grab some papers. "This is what we found in your backyard, Mr Gluck."

Jonathan then squinted to take a long look at what the detective was showing him. The papers, or rather, the pictures were now placed over the table, in clear view for both men to see.

And when Johnathan's vision focused, his body trembled at the sight of an almost decayed corpse, its bones, and internal organs visible to the point where it sent a chill down the man's spine.

"The tests of our respected officers confirmed that this is indeed your wife."

"H-Huh?"

"So, yes. I assure you, if you don't cooperate, you'll deeply regret it."

The man blinked multiple times at the pictures of the semi-decaying skeleton, and the crime scene that surrounded it. It was indeed his backyard, yet his brain couldn't contemplate whether the pictures were real or not. After all, he didn't remember seeing any corpses there.

After all, he didn't expect his wife's dead body to end up in his own backyard.

After all, he didn't remember seeing his wife at all since her disappearance.

And after all, he knew that even if his life depended on it, he did not murder his wife.

"N-No, you got this all wrong." The man swallowed his saliva, his body trembling in pure fear. "I did not do this to my wife."

"How can we believe you?" The detective calmly pointed out. "After all, if you buried your son and expected him to rot underground before anyone could find him, how can we know for sure that you didn't do the same to your wife?"

"Because I didn't!" He exclaimed defensively. "I didn't kill my wife, I don't even know where she went—"

"In your backyard, apparently." The sentence caused the man to shake his head in denial. "I'm going to ask you again. Why should we believe you?"

"I swear I didn't do this! I swear I didn't do this to my wife."

"Then who did?!" The detective exclaimed, slamming his hands against the metal table. "If not you, then who?"

"Not me! Please, you have to believe me—" The man then cut himself short, and inhaled some air before calmly starting his sentence. "I may have done this to Griffin, but I did not kill my wife."

That doesn't make any sense, the detective wanted to say. He knew that he needed to stay professional for the sake of his position, for the sake of the many people counting on him. And for the sake of the dead woman who was waiting for justice.

"Why would you do this to your son?"

A simple question. A basic one, at that. But one that could hold so many meanings at the same time.

If a father could beat his son to the point of unconsciousness, then mercilessly bury him six feet beneath the cold ground...

Then why would the detective believe the suspect didn't do the same thing to his wife?

How could he, anyway, when his fingerprints were all over the crime scene?

But then again...

Wasn't it his own backyard?

"Detective, we need you." A female voice spoke, and it took the detective a moment to realize that he didn't hear the door creak open because of his spiral of thoughts. "It's urgent."

The detective then sighed heavily, soon getting up from his seat and taking a few steps away from the table.

"When I come back, you better be ready to confess." He threatened, his glare sending another chill down the man's spine. "Or else."

Soon enough, the detective hurried out of the room, leaving Jonathan Gluck with his head between his hands.