The door unlocked with a click that echoed louder than it should've.
Taehyung stepped inside, his boots dragging a little on the polished floor. The apartment smelled like lavender, but it didn't feel like home. Not anymore. The scent was too strong, like it was trying too hard to mask something rotting underneath.
He left his bouquet on the kitchen counter. The flowers looked wrong here: too pure, too fresh. Like they didn't belong.
Like he didn't.
"You're home early."
Minji's voice came from the hallway. Careful. Like she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or nervous. Her bare feet padded against the floor until she came into view, wearing one of his old sweatshirts. The blue one he'd stopped looking for months ago.
It should've made him smile.
It didn't.
"I was discharged this morning," he said. His voice was quiet. Tired.
She stepped closer. "You didn't call. Or text. I waited."
He looked at her, really looked. She hadn't changed much. Still the same pretty smile, still the same habit of tucking her hair behind her ear. But there was something about her that felt... distant. As if she'd shed a layer of skin while he was away, and now she was someone he didn't know how to touch anymore.
"I didn't know what to say," he murmured.
She hesitated, then reached for his hand. "Tae... I missed you."
He let her fingers wrap around his. They were warm. Familiar.
But he didn't squeeze back.
"Who was he?" he asked.
Her smile froze.
He didn't need an answer. Her silence said enough.
"You read my messages," she whispered.
"I read everything."
He pulled his hand away, gently but firm, and walked toward the living room. His eyes fell on the couch – the one they used to fall asleep on during late movie nights. Now it felt like a stranger's furniture.
Minji followed, her voice cracking. "It was a mistake, Taehyung. Just...just one time. I was lonely, and you were gone, and I didn't think you'd–"
"Find out?" he cut in. Still calm. Too calm.
She swallowed. "No. I didn't think it mattered anymore."
That one stung more than anything else. Like her fingers had dug into his ribs and pulled his lungs out.
"You could've told me," he said. "You could've just said you didn't love me anymore."
"I do!" Her voice finally rose. "I do love you, Tae, I never stopped–"
"Then why did you let someone else touch you?"
Silence.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. The weight of the uniform on his back had been easier to bear than this.
Minji stepped closer. "I messed up. I know that. But I can change. Please, just give me a chance to fix it."
"You've had five years, Minji," he said softly. "And I gave you every piece of me before I left. Every letter. Every call. I even sent you that dumb video on your birthday with the cardboard cake and the soldier hat. I made everyone in my unit sing."
A breathy laugh escaped her, half-sob. "I know. I cried watching it."
"But you didn't cry enough to stay loyal."
That broke something in her. She reached for him again, desperate now.
"Don't throw this away. We're real. You and I, we've been through too much to end like this," she sobbed.
He looked at her. Really looked. And all he saw was everything he used to believe in, now cracked down the middle.
"I don't hate you," he said. "But I can't come back to this and pretend it didn't happen."
Her hands dropped to her sides.
"Then what do you want me to do?" she whispered.
Taehyung turned away.
"I want to forget you," he said. "But I know I won't."