YN's POV
"Wow, that is fast." I grinned at Layla, racking my brain for more ways to fill our day. "But first, let's pack a picnic lunch and one activity to do after we eat."
"Okay!" Layla's excitement was enough to get me moving, even though my stomach was still doing flips. I pushed through the nausea and made fancy sandwiches with diagonal cuts, sliced fruit and cheese, and everything else that might make a picnic feel special to a little girl. The sickness came and went in waves, but I managed to hold it together until late afternoon.
The pool at Jungkook's place was incredible—sun loungers on one side, accent chairs on the other, perfect for sunbathing or reading. The pool house was small but decked out, with drawers full of new swimsuits for everyone, a mini fridge full of fancy sun creams and lotions. Just behind the hot tub, there was a sleek outdoor kitchen setup with a grill, stove, and a glass-door fridge. "Wow, Layla, this is something, huh? What do you think?"
Her eyes went wide as she took everything in. "Unnie, is this ours? We can really swim here?"
I shook my head with a gentle smile. "Not mine, but it's all yours and your uncle's. Ready for a dip?"
"Is it gonna be cold?"
I laughed, suppressing another wave of nausea. "Maybe a little! But the longer you stay in, the easier it gets. Unless you've changed your mind..."
"No!" she blurted, then quickly lowered her voice. "Sorry, unnie. I just wanted to know."
"It's fine, Layla," I reassured her. "Let's do it together so it's less scary, okay?"
We both stripped off our coverups and stood at the edge of the pool.
"One," Layla started.
"Two," I echoed, smiling.
"Three!" she shouted, cannonballing straight into the water. When she resurfaced, she was laughing. "It's not cold at all!"
She was right, but I still eased myself in slowly—baby steps, first waist-deep, then chest-deep, letting my muscles loosen in the warmth. I kept half an eye on Layla as she swam and kicked, her joy contagious. The sun and heated water were perfect band-aids and, for a while, my nausea faded to the background.
"Watch me, unnie!" Layla called from the edge of the pool, her toes curled and her face a portrait of determination.
"I'm watching!" I promised, offering her a smile. I tried to stay focused—but a fresh wave of nausea hit, stronger than before, my stomach spinning as black dots rimmed my vision. I heard the splash as Layla jumped, but even her laughter sounded far away. Suddenly, the world titled and the colors faded. "Oh no," I whispered, just before everything went dark.
I don't know if it was seconds or minutes, but when I opened my eyes under water, I forced myself up, gasping for air.
Just dizziness, I told myself. Just a weird dizzy spell.
"Unnie!" Layla's voice shook with fear. As soon as I heard her, I swam automatically, searching for her wide-eyed face. "Are you okay?" Her breathless question punched through me.
"I'm okay," I said softly, trying to catch my breath—and my composure. I pulled her close and hugged her, hoping to reassure her. "I'm just a little sick today and got dizzy, but I promise I'm alright. This happens sometimes, and I'll be more careful. Don't you worry about me, Layla. I'm the adult—that's my job. Your job is to have fun."
She went quiet, and I could tell she wouldn't forget what she saw. She'd already lost so much—a scare like that would stick. I needed to change the subject. "You're really okay?" she whispered.
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Really. You know what'll make me feel even better? Hearing all about the kind of guitar you want to get!"
Distraction worked like magic. For the next twenty minutes, Layla rattled off everything she'd learned about guitars—colors, shapes, different sounds, string materials. I smiled and listened, always making sure my feet were planted firmly on the pool floor. The day melted into lazy sunlight. We swam, I read my book while she sketched, and before long, the sun was sliding below the horizon.
By the time we went inside, I felt like I'd run a marathon and then worked a double shift—bone-tired. My legs dragged across the grass and up the steps, straight into the kitchen and then upstairs.
After a quick bath to wash off chlorine and sun, Layla hugged her knees on her bed as I tucked her in.
"Thank you, unnie. Today was super fun," she said softly as I stroked her hair. "Dad used to take me swimming."I flashed a small, sad smile for the little girl who only had memories left of her parents. "I hope today made you remember him with a smile."
Layla nodded, her voice soft. "It did."
"Good." I squeezed her shoulder. "I'm glad you had fun today, Layla. Sometimes we have to stop and smell the roses."
Her nose scrunched up with confusion. "Why?"
I shrugged. "Just means we need to live in the moment—enjoy the little things. Like swimming with a friend, or drawing outside under the sun. It doesn't always have to be big to make you happy."
"Oh. Okay. I'll do that." She flashed another smile and fidgeted, uncertain what came next.
I nudged her gently toward the stairs. "How about we split a banana?"
"Okay!" She bounced on her toes, those brilliant eyes up on me. "Will you stay for dinner tonight, unnie?"
I should have seen it coming—she asked nearly every day, hope flickering in her gaze. Every time, it hurt a little more to say no. "Sorry, Layla. Not tonight. I need to get the progress reports done for this week. Maybe another night?"
Her shoulders fell and she pouted. "You always say that."
She was right. I felt a twinge of guilt that the space I put between myself and the dinner table was felt so sharply by her. Maybe I'd made the mistake of joining the family too early on. Not that it was against the rules, but I had never really been one for family dinners.
"I know and I'm sorry. But you have your uncle."
Just as I said it, he entered—his voice low, but purposeful. "Since those progress reports are for me, I won't mind if they're a little late."
Every muscle in my jaw went stiff. The last thing I wanted was to sit across from Jungkook, pretending things were all right, acting like my heart wasn't half-shattered every time he looked at me. He knew it, too.
Did he care? Probably not.
I forced a shrug, rubbing my forehead, hoping it passed for nonchalance. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not really hungry. Had a big lunch."
Layla's expression shifted, concern overtaking her disappointment. "Are you okay, unnie? Are you dizzy again?"
Her question made me pause, but I recovered fast. "Not dizzy now, just still not feeling great. I'm going to lay down—fingers crossed I'll be fine tomorrow, okay?"
"You're sure?" she asked one more time.
"Positive." I knelt down and wrapped her in a squeeze, trying for a smile that might reassure her, even if it didn't reassure me. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, Layla."
She nodded, sadness lingering in her eyes. "Good night, unnie."
I ignored the heavy weight of Jungkook's gaze on me as I left the kitchen. He didn't get to be concerned about me now. Not after everything. Not that he ever really cared, anyway.
I made my way up to my room and collapsed on top of the bed, still fully dressed. Sleep came easily—which was a small mercy. But of course, it was too much to ask for peace all the way through.
My dreams were full of Jungkook.
His smile, his laughter, his arms wrapped tight around me; his hands and voice, soft against my skin.
It was the most peaceful, yet torturous sleep I'd ever had.