He straightens up, his chest is heaving. He looks like he's on the verge of a panic attack. He grounds out, his voice raw, "And I love you." "I love you, y/n," he repeats. "I love you so much it scares me."

I wait for the warm rush to flood through me, for relief, for happiness. But all I feel is rage. It's like a fire igniting within me, consuming every ounce of the tenderness his words should have brought.

I can't explain it, can't understand why, but the fury is undeniable. I've wanted to hear those words for so long, but none of the emotions I expected to feel are there.

I push him away, my voice trembling with the weight of my emotions. "Too little, too late," I rasp, turning my back on him and walking away. I hear him call my name, but I don't turn around. I can't. If I do, I might shatter completely.

__________

I sit on the edge of our bed, absolutely fuming. I want revenge. Jungkook left me alone after his confession, probably thinking I'd sit here and fawn over it. But all I can think about is making him hurt like he hurt me. I can feel the anger bubbling inside me, my pulse quickening as my mind races with all the ways I can make him regret his words. He thinks I'll be soft, that I'll fall for his confession. But I'm not some fragile thing that can be swept up by sweet words and promises. No, he needs to understand that words are easy. Actions, though... Actions speak louder than anything.

I rise to my feet, pacing the room, my hands trembling with the need to do something—anything—to take control. I can't just sit here and let him get away with this. He left me in the dust, expecting me to wait patiently for him to fix things. But I've been fixing myself for too long.

I grab my phone, my fingers flying over the screen as I plan the perfect way to make him feel the emptiness he left me with. The silence between us now feels like a void that I'm ready to fill with something he won't forget.

I send a message. It's cold, calculated, and exactly what I need to ignite the fire. A sudden bolt of electricity surges through my lower stomach, and I can't help but groan at the sharp, almost painful sensation. I freeze, trying to understand what's happening. My mind begins to race, the realization dawning on me.

Wait... I haven't bled in two and a half months?

 I try to push the idea out of my mind, but it's impossible to ignore. I've been so caught up in everything else—my anger, my confusion, my pain—that I didn't even notice the signs.

Panic begins to creep in. Could I be pregnant? No, that can't be it, right? I was careful... I always took my birth control. Gosh, I must be nuts. I can't be...

Suddenly, my phone jolts to life, ringing loudly. I walk toward the bed and glance at the screen. It's Jungkook's call. I immediately pick it up, my voice shaky.

"Ju—"

But before I can finish, a calm, professional voice cuts through the line.

"Is this Mrs. Jeon speaking?"

My heart races. "Yeah... but... where is Ju—Jungkook?"

The woman on the other end pauses before continuing, her voice clipped and serious. "Ma'am, Mr. Jeon has been involved in a severe accident—"

The world seems to tilt around me. My breath hitches, and I feel my knees give way beneath me. I can barely hear the rest of what the woman is saying as panic surges through me. All I can think is, *No, not him. Not now.*

I clutch the phone tightly, trying to steady myself, desperate for more information.

"Where is he? Is he okay? What happened?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

The woman's voice softens slightly, but the gravity of her words hangs heavy in the air. "Ma'am, he's in critical condition. We're doing everything we can to stabilize him. Please come to the Seoul hospital immediately."

I drop the phone on the bed, my mind racing, my heart pounding in my chest. This is real. This is happening.

_____

I don't know how many words and thoughts raced through my head as the driver sped toward the hospital. My body shook uncontrollably, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I was crying—no, I was sobbing. I felt like a fragile leaf in a storm, being torn apart by the wind, but there was no wind. Only the chaos in my chest.

This morning, he was in my arms, comforting me, holding me so tightly. Now... now he was in critical condition, and all I could think was why—why had he been out there? Why had he been so far from me?

I couldn't understand. I was the one who had told him it was over. I had sent him that message, cold and cruel:

"Let's get a divorce, Jungkook. It's not gonna work. I don't love you anymore."

Those words felt like poison in my mouth as they echoed in my mind. I could barely believe I'd said them. I could barely understand what had made me do it. Maybe it was the anger, the hurt, the rage... or maybe it was just the deep sense of betrayal that I hadn't known how to process. But none of that mattered now. The damage was done, and I had pushed him away.

I wipe my tears away, trying to focus on the road ahead. Why did I send that message? If I could take it back, if I could erase that moment, I would. I would do anything to rewind time and make him stay with me, to tell him I didn't mean it, that I loved him and needed him.

The driver speeds faster, his face grim, but the truth is, nothing will matter unless I can get to him in time. Nothing will matter if I lose him.

I can't lose him. Not after everything.

A thousand what-ifs and regrets flood my mind, each one more painful than the last