Waiting For Us [MYGxOC]

Chapter Five: Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, & The Cherub

"Jean," Haru sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm her husband. The two-hour drive home from Daegu felt like an eternity. The first sixty minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence. The next thirty involved her husband mumbling about how she let him buy a cold brew Americano with Yoongis face on the bottle. In her defense, he entered the convenience store alone and picked it out all by himself. To Haru, that could be described as fan behavior. But she would never say that out loud to her husband.

And as those final thirty minutes approached, his mumbling became louder, more prominent, and angrier. Haru tried to zone him out by looking out the window, watching the tall illuminated buildings come to life around her as they entered Seoul. As he argued with himself, she counted. Counted the number of bicyclists on their commutes, counted the number of trees she passed, and how many times Jean said Yoongis name.

Fourteen. Jean said his name a total of fourteen times in the last thirty minutes. Most importantly, she counted the number of pointless fights they had had that month. She counted how many days it had been since she had felt anything other than misery in his presence and inevitably found herself unable to keep up with the number.

Haru couldn't remember the exact moment it happened. The moment when they started to dislike each other so intensely. Or at least the moment Jean began to dislike her. If she had to take a wild guess, it was sometime after their second miscarriage. She felt his resentment for her overpower the love he had once had the moment the doctors confirmed what the bleeding meant. By the third miscarriage, it felt a lot less like resentment and a lot more like hate.

Jean paced the space of their room. She was surprised he hadn't burned a hole through the carpet with all his back and forth."Can we just go to bed?" Haru dropped her head into her hands, feeling the start of a headache due to the irritation.

He stopped pacing to narrow his eyes at her. "Bed? You think I'm sleeping next to you tonight?"

Haru lifted her head, shooting her husband a confused look. "What are you so upset about? I didn't do anything!"

"You lied to my face! In front of him! Do you have any idea how foolish you've made me look?"

Haru would have laughed if it wouldn't make the situation worse. "No, you made yourself look foolish by trying to embarrass him like he gives a shit. News flash! He doesn't! He doesn't give a shit about you, me, or anything we have to say, for that matter!"

Jean let out a loud and boisterous laugh that made Haru roll her eyes. "If he didn't give a shit about you, he wouldn't have even been there."

"He was there for my mother."

"Oh, bullshit, Haru!"

It shocked her he was even this upset. Jean usually acted like she didn't make a difference to him. "I'm surprised you even give a shit, Jean. Seeing as you haven't touched me in almost a year."

She was met with silence. Silence, because he knew it was the truth. It wasn't often that Jean was speechless. And because he always wanted to get the last word, Haru had to learn to be the silent one. Tonight, all her anger and stress won, and she wouldn't hold her tongue.

All she wanted was a nice, quiet dinner with her mother. Instead, she was met with the personification of hell in the body of an ex, the overstepping tendencies of her mother, and the unexpected jealousy of her husband.

Jean looked down at her, still not uttering a single word. His breathing was heavy, his clean-shaven jaw clenching and unclenching in anger. Just when his lips parted, and she swore he would say something, he shut his mouth again. Jean rubbed his chin roughly and shook his head before walking around her to the head of the bed. He practically ripped the pillow and comforter off, prying it from under her in the process.