you'll find chapters 26, and 25 in scrollstckme, Patreon. 

A car horn blared behind Y/N as her velocity increased out of a woolgathering. She corrected her focus to the road, and she took the gas, whizzing through the light which turned green at some indeterminable point in time. It has been four weeks since Jungkook found out who she was, and three weeks since she came back to Seoul.

It was another day of spacing out at the worst possible times, her mind hostage to thoughts of him: how they had met in his pub, how fierce the passion between them had been, and, finally, how he had inflicted this cruel end. And she played back the memory of their lovemaking like reruns of her favorite TV series. But with every playback, it always ended up on the very same brutal scene—his fury, then with such confusion, anger, and agony in his voice as he slammed the door behind him.

Y/N had wanted to run after him, to plead her apologies over and over again until he could forgive her, but she knew that really didn't help. The damage was done; there was no going back now. She'd driven past the pub many times, but she'd never come in, not wanting to cause a scene at his business or at the apartment house he owned. Not wanting to press in any further the knife she'd metaphorically stabbed in him. She'd already hurt him plenty—what was better for Jungkook was to keep away.

The problem was that Y/N couldn't quite decide what was best for her. She had to move on, to forget that the past seven weeks had never happened, but it was difficult. Even her coworkers had taken notice of her misery. She'd been moping around the office, so distracted that some people had to snap their fingers in front of her face or touch her to get her attention. Today she had received a summons to her boss's office for a "chat".

The woman asked if she would like to talk to one of the counselors on staff to help her deal with whatever it was that was so disquieting. Everyone thought that she still felt terrible about her aunt. Y/N let them continue to think so. It was way too embarrassing to confess the real reason she was sad.

Their chat had started so that she was gingerly prodding about how she was feeling. Y/N had tried to brush off the concern by accusingly mentioning how she was just tired, so she had to adjust to the new workload. Still, her boss would not be put off, especially noting how her performance had slipped and how she seemed distant. They had discussed stress management, and her boss had suggested counseling to help her deal with whatever was troubling her. Y/N was mortified but tried to thank the boss for the offer, vowing to think about it. Deep down, she knew that the problem wasn't so small that a few counseling hours could fix it.

What started as sweet revenge ended with her falling in love with the man who now hated it was, Lia had been her sounding board the past few weeks, but it was time to let the subject die because her cousin had to be exasperated talking about Jungkook and listening to Y/N cry over him. Somehow, she had managed to put on a convincing smile and cheerful tone when she saw her mom because the older woman hadn't suspected anything was wrong.

They had dinner scheduled for the next evening, and it was then that Y/N would break the news to her mother she was going to stay in Seoul. If things with Jungkook had gone differently, she'd already be working on a transfer application and looking at condos. But there was no way she could ever face him again. Just thinking about him hurt her enough.

Figuring she could at least push Jungkook out of her mind, at least until she was parked so she could avoid causing an accident, she focused on the traffic and what to have for dinner. For some reason, she was craving some warm homemade food, which brought back the memory of the first time she visited the J's Grill.

Great, now her head was filled again with thoughts of him. Damn it.

She pulled into the apartment complex, into her space, and shut off the engine. Before opening the door, though, something by the side entrance of the building caught her eye. No, not something, but someone. And not just anyone, but Jungkook! She must have been hallucinating.

He was just as she remembered: handsome, chiseled to perfection. She had recognized him, even with sunglasses covering his eyes, and what looked like a two-day beard and mustache, reminding her of how those coarse whiskers had rasped over her nipples and inner thighs. She squeezed her legs together, trying to tamp down the instant arousal those thoughts stirred.

In a blue button-up black shirt, sleeves rolled up—damn she loved his arm porn—he leaned against the brick wall with his hands in the front pockets of his black, creased pants and watched her. It felt like he knew her car and that she sat in it. His expression was blank, what she could see of it, as he waited.

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