I wrap my hair around the curling iron, getting ready for work. It's starting to go back to its natural color, no longer the shade of platinum blonde—it's slightly darker now. The sight makes me feel a strange kind of peace. I've always loved it more this way; it feels like me.

As I lean closer to the mirror to apply my lipstick, a sudden shiver runs down my spine. The memory of Jungkook's kiss invades my mind, unbidden. I hate it—hate how it lingers, how my body betrayed me in that moment. Despite my anger, my whole body had come alive when his lips crushed against mine. The sensation of his rough, desperate kiss still lingers, and it irritates me how much it affected me.

I glance at my bare finger, my wedding ring sitting untouched on the vanity. For a long moment, I stare at it, debating. With a heavy sigh, I finally slip it back on. Not because he told me to, I remind myself, but to avoid unnecessary drama or fueling the rumor mill. That's the excuse I cling to, but deep down, I'm not sure I believe it.

The memory of last night flits through my mind, and for the first time in a long while, I smile. I had a blast at the club—feeling carefree and unburdened, surrounded by strangers who didn't care about who I was or what I had to be. I danced like no one was watching, laughed without restraint. For once, I didn't worry about my hair being perfect or my stomach looking flat. I was just... me.

As I open the door to leave the bedroom, there's no sign of Jungkook. He must have left earlier. A pang of something—relief, or perhaps disappointment—hits me. Is it wrong that I'm finding some satisfaction in seeing him squirm? In seeing him taste the bitterness of his own medicine? Maybe it's petty, but after everything he put me through, it feels justified.

And yet, part of me aches to understand him. I've always been curious about his past, the parts of himself he hides so well. He never talks about his mother, and I know he avoids her grave like it holds a ghost he can't face. But when he tried to use it to justify how he's treated me... No. I won't let him. Pain doesn't excuse cruelty.

I shake the thoughts away as I grab my keys and head out the door. The drive to work is uneventful, the morning traffic surprisingly light. When I arrive, I slide off my blazer, tuck into my chair, and dive into the stack of documents on my desk.

I'm immersed in reviewing contracts when there's a knock at the door. "Come in," I say, glancing up briefly. Daniel steps in, a casual smile on his face.

"Good morning," he greets, dragging a chair closer and sitting beside me.

"Morning," I reply, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Daniel sets a takeout bag on my desk. "Last night was great. We should do it again sometime."

I nod, a small laugh escaping me. "It was fun. Definitely."

"Are you hungover?" he asks, rubbing his temple dramatically. "Because my head is killing me. I almost didn't make it to work."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No, I didn't drink too much. Maybe you should've taken it easy."

"We only live once," he says with a grin, pulling two sandwiches from the bag. "Want to have breakfast together?"

I hesitate for a second, then nod. "Sure, why not."

Papers pushed aside, I take a bite of the sandwich he offers. We chat casually, about movies, places we'd like to visit, and embarrassing moments from our pasts. It feels easy—light and uncomplicated. For a brief moment, I let myself enjoy it.

But the peace shatters when the door swings open abruptly. Jungkook strides in, his presence dominating the room. Evelyn follows close behind, practically beaming.

"Y/N, your husband wanted to surprise you at work today," she announces, her voice overly cheery, as if she's trying to smooth over the tension she senses in the room.

Evelyn flushes slightly, clearly smitten with Jungkook's charm. He must've worked his magic on her after their initial clash. Bastard.

Jungkook stands there, a massive bouquet of red roses in his hand, his sharp gaze locking onto Daniel like a predator sizing up its prey. Daniel stiffens beside me, the lightness of our conversation replaced with thick, suffocating tension.

"Good morning, Y/N," Jungkook says, his voice dangerously smooth, yet tinged with an unmistakable edge. His eyes flick to the remnants of our breakfast. "I see you're enjoying yourself."

Author: Some people may say that the (fl) is being dramatic here, but think about it: if you loved a guy for years, only for him to pretend to feel the same way, how would you feel? The context of this fanfiction is based on a real incident that happened to a close friend of mine. It was an "uno reverse" situation, where my friend pretended to love her boyfriend. So, yes, it was all quite ugly.

I have to say, I can't support that behavior at all. To be honest, even if you happened to be one of my closest friends, I still believe you were completely wrong to treat that innocent guy—who genuinely gave you everything—so poorly. Their breakup was extremely messy, filled with hurt feelings and drama, and unfortunately, I got caught in the middle of it all without even realizing the extent of the situation.

It wasn't until about three or four months after their split that I learned about it, and that information came directly from her. She made a strong effort to shape my perception, trying to convince me that he was toxic and controlling. However, I wasn't oblivious to her behavior during that time. I noticed how she acted, and it was clear that she was not being entirely honest about her actions and their impact. And the whole truth was horrid for me to say. As a female herself, she humiliated us.