Jennie's POV
The silence in the apartment was deafening, punctuated only by the soft click of the lock as Taehyung left. Jennie stood in the middle of the living room, frozen, her body still humming with a furious energy that threatened to crack her open. He was gone. The man she had built a life with, the man she had trusted, had walked out, leaving behind a wreckage of broken promises and shattered dreams.
The anger was a hot, scalding wave, then the grief hit, colder and deeper. Tears streamed down her face, unbidden, unstoppable. She stumbled to the sofa, collapsing onto it, burying her face in a cushion, letting out a raw, guttural cry that echoed in the empty space. Hours passed in a blur of tears, accusation, and agonizing self-pity.
As the initial storm subsided, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache, Jennie found herself replaying everything. Not just the image of Taehyung and Jungkook at the café, but the weeks leading up to it. His distraction. His phone always clutched in his hand. The way he'd pull away, just slightly, when she reached for him. The hollow compliments. She'd dismissed them, rationalized them, convinced herself it was work stress, or just a phase. She had wanted to believe him.
Then, Taehyung's final, devastating words came back to her, raw and unfiltered. His admission that he had chosen her, in part, because she reminded him of Jungkook. The confession that his emotional connection was never truly with her. It was a cruel truth, but as the initial sting faded, a horrifying clarity began to emerge.
She sat up slowly, wiping the tears from her face, her eyes fixed on nothing. She thought about her own feelings for Taehyung. She had loved him. Deeply. But had there always been a part of him that was just... out of reach? Had she felt it too, subconsciously? His artistic quirks, his sometimes wild ideas, his sudden moments of intense passion – she had loved those parts of him. Had she loved them because they were him, or because they were echoes of someone else's vibrant energy?
She remembered their first dates, how effortlessly charming he was. How he'd listened to her architectural plans with genuine interest. How stable and comforting he'd felt. She had built her future around that stability, that comfort. She had told herself she was happy. And she truly had been, for the most part. But now, looking back, she saw the subtle distance, the moments when his eyes seemed to drift, searching for something she couldn't provide.
The realization was a painful, sickening twist in her gut. He hadn't just betrayed her with another person; he had, in a way, betrayed her by choosing her for the wrong reasons. And perhaps, unwittingly, she had allowed herself to be chosen for the wrong reasons, too, settling for a love that was comfortable rather than one that ignited her soul.
A new kind of anger bubbled up – not just at Taehyung, but at the situation, at the unfairness, and perhaps, a tiny bit, at herself for not seeing it sooner. She didn't want to be a reminder of someone else's lost love. She deserved more. She deserved to be someone's everything, not just a stand-in.
She looked around the apartment, filled with their shared possessions, their shared dreams. It felt empty now, hollowed out by the truth. She had to move on. She had to reclaim her life, not as Taehyung's girlfriend, but as Jennie. And that meant letting go of the wreckage, no matter how much it hurt.
The pain was still immense, but a tiny, fierce spark of self-preservation had ignited, promising a path forward she hadn't dared to imagine.