Chapter Text
He reminds you of a magician, able to exist in two places at the same time. A husband that gets home at three in the morning and lies to you.
The smell of homemade food lingers in the dining room. You have stored the dishes already. He said he would try to come home earlier tonight. A bitter laugh escapes your lips. Of course, try. You should have known better since Seokjin only tolerates your presence in recent days. He spends most of his time away, plus the hours his busy schedule requires. And arrives home almost at dawn, without bothering to offer you an explanation.
An undeniable bridge between you is getting larger every day. He is distant, colder, and you know something is not right.
Maybe this is the reason you placed all your energy into making a perfect anniversary dinner. The reason you invested so much effort into dolling yourself up and cooking a delicious meal. The main reason that motivates you to keep waiting for him.
It didn’t matter that you called him many times; just for him to leave you in radio silence. Or that you called Namjoon, begging him to let your spouse go early for this special occasion, for him to stutter that they didn’t have work. Not like your husband had sworn this morning when he left home.
What is he hiding from you?
You glimpse at the clock, four in the morning. A second later, the wood of the front door scrapes the floor. He is home.
His steps are soft to the dining room. Almond’s eyes focused on his phone. In the dim light of the room, and despite your blurry sight, you can’t help to think he looks ethereal, a deity out of your reach.
Your trembling fingers brush the soft skin under your eyes. A weak attempt to gulp the knot stuck in your throat follows this.
Seokjin doesn’t deserve to see you like this, a woman with ruined makeup and pain in her face.
He raises his eyes from the device in his hands when he feels your gaze on him. Surprise passes through his face, followed by a brief flash of guilt. However, before you question the meaning, his eyes harden.
“What are you doing up?” Seokjin demands. His gaze soon fixes on the candlelight on the table as he takes a few steps closer to the chair you are sitting.
“I was waiting for you,” you answer, “Today was our anniversary dinner.”
Your husband sighs, brushing one hand through his face.
“I am sorry, the practice took more time than expected,” he grumbles, “I will make it up to you.”
Seokjin shortens the physical distance between you. His palms feel warm over the skin of your cheeks, and you lean on his touch whilst a content sigh leaves your lips. He tilts your chin, beautiful almond eyes studying your face before his soft lips are on yours.
Instead of the usual butterflies in your stomach, a sour taste lies heavy on your tongue.
He is lying to you.
A sickly and unfamiliar vanilla fragrance goes straight to your nostrils, a cherry flavor that lingers on your mouth when his tongue encounters yours. If you close your eyes tighter, it feels like you are kissing another woman.
When you glimpse at his face after he pulls away, you feel an urge to scream, a need to demand an explanation of his whereabouts, about the woman you can taste on his lips. Because he is being dishonest with you, is all over his breath. However, a tender brush of his knuckles against your cheeks, as well as the exhaustion on his face, halts the battle of emotions in your heart, replaced instead with a determination to relieve his worries.
What a fucking curse, you thought. I care too much for him.
With a jagged breath, you press tender kisses on his fingertips before pushing his hands away. “You are home. That is enough for me,” you appeased. “It is late. Let’s go to bed.”
He nods whilst leaving a kiss on your forehead when he passes next to you toward your shared bedroom. One of his hands reaches out for his phone in one pocket of his trousers when he thinks he is out of sight.
Without a single glance back, he leaves you alone in the silent kitchen.
An inevitable feeling of dread sits in your gut. But you will not think much about the discoveries you had made; it has to be wrong. It would only start a fight with him, the last thing you want on the night of your anniversary.
He already is in the bathroom, at the time you enter your bedroom.
This is your chance.
On your ears, the pound of your heart is loud. Your fingers tremble a little when you reach for the zipper on your back. A second later, soft cotton pools at your feet, letting the cold air nip at your skin. You feel a wave of confidence when you let your hand fondle the pink lace adorning your breasts, straightening your spine. You take decisive steps towards the bathroom door. One hand hovering above the doorknob a second later.
Maybe you can surprise him in the shower. Use this chance as a last attempt to show him you could still celebrate. You can drive him crazy with your body, like at the beginning of your marriage.
You freeze in your spot, overhearing behind the door. His honeyed voice calls out another woman’s name, followed by mumbling, and a hushed name of affection. You pressed one ear to the door; you try to hear who he was talking to, what he was saying. His voice sounds so distant, as if he was talking underwater.
With a gentle push, the door opens; waves of shame washes you, but you endure it, anything is better than not knowing.
Seokjin is sitting in the toilet tap with his elbows over his knees, head low as he keeps mumbling to the phone in his ear. He laughs after hearing what the woman on the phone has said. The most beautiful smile draws on his pink lips.
It hurts you because that was your smile. It used to belong only to you.
He doesn’t smile around you anymore; it has been months since he has.
Who is this woman? Why can she make him smile like that? Is something going between them?
You wish he notices you peeking through the door, spying on him, being the woman you once laughed about. The one you once swear you would never be. Because you have never distrusted him, never doubted your husband’s faithfulness.
You pray to God that he catches you listening, so you can ask all the questions tormenting your soul.
You pray you can hear what he’s whispering to the phone, to her.
The bathroom’s light illuminates the wall of your bedroom, where your wedding portrait proudly hangs. In the photograph, the couple looks so happy. The woman in the white dress would never imagine that one day she would hide behind a door, praying to know her husband’s truth.
A woman full of doubts is born that day.
Cheating. Is he cheating on you?