"There was a time I wished to end it all, but I have hope to live for her only." - Jeon Jungkook

"Jungkook," Dr. Minwoo's voice cuts through the fog, sharp but steady, pulling me back. "Breathe. Focus on your breathing."

My chest tightens further, like I'm suffocating under an invisible weight. I gasp for air, but it feels like my lungs refuse to expand. Panic claws at me, tightening its grip. The walls of the room blur, closing in on me. The sound of my own heartbeat pounds in my ears, loud and deafening, like a drumbeat I can't escape.

"I—I can't," I choke out, clutching my chest. My hands tremble violently, the necklace slipping from my grasp and falling to the floor. "I c-can't breathe..."

"Yes, you can," Dr. Minwoo says firmly, leaning forward in his chair, his calm presence grounding. "Look at me, Jungkook. Focus on me."

I try to lift my head, but the memories hit harder, dragging me under again. My mother's voice rings in my ears, soft and sweet but laced with cruelty. "You love me, don't you, Jungkook? Say it. Show me."

Her hands, cold and unrelenting, invade my thoughts. My skin crawls at the memory, and nausea churns in my stomach. My body remembers every unwanted touch, every whispered lie.

"Jungkook," Dr. Minwoo says again, louder this time. "Breathe with me. In for four counts, out for four counts. Do it now."

I force myself to match his rhythm. Inhale. One, two, three, four. Exhale. One, two, three, four. The air feels like fire in my chest, but I push through, clinging to his voice like a lifeline.

Slowly, the spinning stops. The pressure in my chest eases, and the room comes back into focus. I blink, my vision clearing. The faint sound of my breaths fills the space, ragged but steady.

I look down. The chair handles are shattered, broken into jagged pieces in my hands. Splinters stick into my palms, but I barely feel the pain. My hands are shaking uncontrollably.

"This..." My voice cracks as I speak, barely above a whisper. "This is why I stopped coming here."

Dr. Minwoo leans back slightly, his gaze steady and unflinching. "You came back because you need this. You're fighting to save yourself, Jungkook. That takes strength."

"I can't love her," I say, my voice hollow. "Not like this. I'm too broken."

Dr. Minwoo's expression softens, but his voice is firm. "What your mother did wasn't love, Jungkook. It was vile. It was abuse. But what you feel for Y/N... it's different. It's not wrong."

I shake my head, the fight still raging inside me. "But I'm obsessed with her. Utterly fixated. I can't stop thinking about her. She's in my head, in my dreams, in every moment. When she's not near me, it's like I'm falling apart. And when she's there, I just want more. I want everything. I've been lying to myself for so long, pretending she doesn't mean anything to me. But she does."

"She's consuming you," Dr. Minwoo says, nodding. "That's not unusual for someone who's been starved of healthy love. You're trying to fill a void."

"But it feels dark," I admit, my voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt her. I'm afraid of what I might become. I'm afraid... I'm becoming her."

Dr. Minwoo's voice is steady, his words deliberate. "You're not your mother, Jungkook. You never will be. The fact that you're here, trying to understand these feelings, proves that."

Tears sting my eyes, and I look away, ashamed. "But it's not normal. I don't want her to just love me... I want her to only love me. I want to cage her, to keep her where I can see her, where no one else can touch her. I hate the thought of anyone else having a part of her. It makes me feel... crazy."

"That kind of possessiveness comes from fear," Dr. Minwoo explains. "Fear of losing what you love most. It doesn't make you a monster, Jungkook. It makes you human."

"But it's not healthy," I whisper. "I'm scared I'll break her."

Dr. Minwoo's eyes meet mine, steady and unwavering. "Then we work on it. Together. You can learn to love her without letting your fear control you. But you have to be honest—with me and with yourself."

I nod slowly, the weight in my chest lifting just enough to breathe again. For the first time in years, I feel a sliver of hope.

"Same time next week," I say, my voice steadier now.

Dr. Minwoo smiles faintly, jotting something in his notebook. "Same time, Jungkook. We'll take it one step at a time."

It's Saturday evening, and Evelyn has a work party planned. I tug at the hem of the red dress hugging my curves, the deep V-line drawing attention to my cleavage. It's easily the boldest thing I own. I chuckle under my breath, imagining my mom's reaction if she ever saw me in this dress—she'd probably faint on the spot.

When I arrive, the party is already in full swing. The air buzzes with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of conversation. People seem so carefree, lost in their own little worlds. But my mind keeps drifting back to Jungkook.

Why does he invest so much in me if he doesn't even love me?

The day at the coast, the villa, the yacht—it was all beautiful, sure. But I don't care about expensive things. I care about the moments, like when we went diving. For those few hours, it felt like I could breathe, like I could escape everything weighing me down. It was perfect. Until it wasn't.

His half-hearted confession replays in my mind, a sharp sting every time I think about it. "I think I love you," he had said. Love isn't something you think you feel; it's something you know.

How am I supposed to stay with someone who doesn't even know how he feels about me?

And yet, his grand gestures—his relentless attempts to win me back—leave me confused. It's like he's trying to buy my forgiveness when all I've ever wanted was his heart.

"Y/N!" Sasha's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. She waves at me from across the room, her bright smile cutting through the haze in my mind.

I make my way over, grateful for the distraction. We chat about work, weekend plans, and other harmless topics. She makes me laugh, and for a moment, the ache in my chest feels distant.

"You look stunning tonight," Sasha says, giving me a playful once-over. "Finally showing off those curves, huh? You're hot, girl!"

Her compliment catches me off guard, and I flush. "Thanks, Sasha," I reply, trying to sound casual. It's rare to get compliments from women that don't come with backhanded remarks, so this feels... nice.

We clink glasses, and I take a sip of wine. The warmth spreads through me, loosening some of the tension I didn't even realize I was holding.

Daniel joins us, still a bit on edge around me since his awkward encounter with Jungkook. I can see the hesitation in his smile, but I do my best to put him at ease. We talk about anything and everything—everything except Jungkook. And for that, I'm grateful.

But as the night drags on, I find my eyes drifting toward the door. Half of me expects Jungkook to walk in, his intense gaze immediately finding me in the crowd. The other half hopes he doesn't.

He hasn't been home all day, and I didn't tell him about the party, despite Evelyn's insistence that I invite him. He'll find out eventually—the guards will notify him—but I don't know if I even want him here.

Where is he, anyway?

The thought sneaks in before I can stop it. Is he with someone else? It's been almost two months since we've been intimate. He has needs, doesn't he? The idea of him with another woman makes my stomach churn and my fists clench. I tell myself I don't care. But the jealousy burning in my chest betrays me.

Excusing myself, I step outside. The cool night breeze brushes against my skin, grounding me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs.

"Focus, Y/N," I whisper to myself. "He's his own problem. You need to focus on you."

Shaking my head, I push all thoughts of Jungkook aside and head back inside. Tonight isn't about him; it's about me.

As I rejoin the party, Evelyn approaches with a tall, well-dressed man by her side. She smiles warmly at me, her eyes lighting up.

"There you are, Y/N," she says, gesturing to the man beside her.