[thirty-one]

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The next six days of my life elapse in sheer devastation. Every night I close my eyes and hope that everything will go back to how it used to be the next morning I open them again.

But as the night grows darker, I feel the dense fog of discombobulation getting thicker, taking one more step further, lashing towards my sense of distinguishing between right and wrong and almost blinding it.

Beads of cold sweat roll down my forehead like a leaked tap. The frigid climate bestows chill down the spine, and yet the sweater and layer of blanket I had wrapped myself in appears swelter. I end up taking them off and turning on the air conditioner.

I grab a glass of water from the night stand. I gulp down half of the water, then splash the remainings on to my face. The feeling of it drying bit by bit under the air conditioner makes my entire body shudder; such gripping gelidity momentarily eases my nerves. Later, I am again lying on my bed, my hands resting behind my head, frustrated, wondering and staring at the ceiling till the next morning. That is how I've been passing my nights.

I need answers. I can't live in this cycle of puzzlement. I need to hear Mingyu's side. I need him for that.

I pick up my phone to call him at least fifteen times a day. Then get held back by a voice in my head that tells me I should not bother someone who lives under the impression that I ruined his life, my wilful self that keeps convincing me that he should come to me first.

If what Wonwoo said is actually what happened, then Mingyu has every right to think like that. I am the one to blame for everything. I drove him to the edge, broke our family apart. Brothers became enemies because of me. Just feeling guilty about it won't make amends. I need to take responsibility and fix the damage that I've caused while I still have time.

Hence, I push aside all of those voices and dial his (recent) number once again. It's unreachable everytime, so I stop by the company. Instead of him I see Ms. Manoban inside his office, arranging the files scattered on his desk. She regards me with an eye roll, "What do you want? Your next project is due next month." Snarls she.

"I'm here to see Mi - I mean sir. I need to talk to him." She walks around the desk and leans her hips against it's corner. "He's on vacation." She replies nonchalantly, tucking a section of hair behind her ears.

"Vacation? What vacation?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"It's urgent Maam, please."

"Oh really? As if I care." She scoffs, "Listen, I've been observing your attitude towards him. It's suspicious everytime. What, you have a thing for him?"

The tone of her voice is making my hackles rise, along with what she said. I groan internally. I'm having an irresistible impulse of grabbing her by her hair and drag her all the way to the toilet and just straight up give her a swirly which she, even her next generation, won't ever forget.

Then I remember Jae had forbidden me to give her too much attention if it's not extremely serious. Right now she's messing with. Moreover, I love my job. So no Miyeon, have patience and save it for the day when your contract expires.

"So you do have a thing for him huh. Ouu you poor thing." It's way too obvious now that all she wants to do is provoke me. She's not gonna give me any information on Mingyu.

Unless I offer her like a billion dollars or so, which I'm obviously never doing. I'll be much more pleased if some random street dog tears up all my money and pees on it, rather than giving her a single penny.

"Even if I do, it's none of your business." Resisting the urge to stomp my feet, I let out my breath in a huff and turn away. What a total waste of time.

Truly Yours • Kim Mingyu Where stories live. Discover now