|| CHAPTER - 41 ||

•| CHAPTER ~ 41 |•

•| GUILT TRIP |•

✿───❀  ♡  ❀───✿

It was a quiet morning. Evie sat on the sofa with her laptop balanced on her lap, her fingers moving slowly over the keys as she scrolled through endless pages of loan applications. Her eyes were tired from sleepless nights and her heart felt just as heavy as her thoughts.

The last few days had been nothing short of a nightmare for her and her father both. She still couldn't fully grasp how everything had spiraled so quickly, so cruelly. Her father had worked tirelessly for years, putting everything he had into the company, only to be accused of a scam he had nothing to do with. Not only was he fired without warning, but they were slapped with an enormous fine–one that had to be paid within just two weeks. It was more than devastating; it was humiliating. All that effort, loyalty, and respect he had built up over the years, shattered in a moment.

They had gone to the police, desperate for help. But the moment they stepped into the station, she could tell it was pointless. The evidence stacked against her father was overwhelming–too perfect, too clean, like someone had carefully planted it. And the way the authorities dismissed their pleas, made it obvious: someone powerful had bought them off. They weren't interested in the truth.

Justice wasn't on their side.

Evie didn't want to believe it at first. She kept telling herself it couldn't be true. But the more she thought about it, the more the pieces fell into place and every piece pointed toward the same person: Kim Taehyung.

He had the money. He had the influence. And most of all, he had a motive. Revenge. As much as she tried to convince herself there had to be some other explanation, the signs were too loud to ignore. The timing of everything. It all screamed one thing: this was deliberate.

She bit her lower lip, blinking back the sting in her eyes. She couldn't afford to fall apart now. With a deep breath, she returned her attention to the laptop, forcing herself to focus. There was no time for anger or heartbreak. If they couldn't prove her father's innocence, they would at least have to survive this financially.

The only option left was to take out a loan and pay the fine before things got worse. She had already completed her degree, and now, she was applying for every decent job she could find–banks, firms, private offices, anything that would accept her application quickly.

As she typed in her details for another job portal, another thought sneaked into her mind–one she had been trying to suppress: Jungkook.

His face, his voice, his sudden apology... it kept replaying in her head which she couldn't turn off. He had said things she didn't expect to hear from someone like him–things that confused her more than anything.

A man like Jungkook, asking for forgiveness? It didn't sit right. She knew better than to trust him, especially after everything she had seen. People like him didn't change overnight. There had to be a reason behind that apology. Something he wanted. Some trick he was playing.

But still, no matter how much she told herself to ignore it, his words kept circling back in her mind.

Shaking her head firmly, she forced herself to brush the thought away. There were more important things to focus on. Her father's reputation was at stake. Their image in society was crumbling. And there was no one they could turn to. They couldn't even ask her mother for help–she had remarried, had a new family now, and Evie knew how high the fine amount was. It would be too much to ask, and frankly, it would be humiliating to reveal everything. They would have to manage on their own.

Just then, the sound of the doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She paused for a second, assuming her father would get it. But when she heard no movement from his room, she sighed, setting the laptop aside and heading to the door herself.

When she opened it, she found a delivery man standing outside, holding a single envelope.

"Evie Parker?" he asked, confirming her name.

She nodded, confused, and accepted the envelope. It was sealed and addressed specifically to her.

No sender's name. No logo. Just her name in neat handwriting.

"Thank you," she murmured softly.

The man gave a polite nod before turning away, leaving her standing there at the doorway, the mysterious envelope clutched in her hands.

She stared at it for a moment, heart suddenly beating a little faster. Maybe it was a response to one of her loan applications... or a job invitation? That would make sense, wouldn't it?

But something about the envelope–something she couldn't quite put her finger on—felt... off.

She close her door and enter the living room and sat on the sofa, her fingers trembling slightly as she broke the seal and pulled out the letter. The moment her eyes caught the name—Taehyung—her heart sank with a heaviness she couldn't quite explain.

Why would he send her a letter? What was there left to say between them?

As she began to read, her breath hitched in her throat. The words stared back at her merciless, cold, and nothing like the man she thought she knew. With each sentence, it felt like her heart cracked open further. This wasn't the Taehyung she had loved. This wasn't the man who smiled so kindly or held her so gently. This letter... this confession... it tore away the illusion she had so desperately clung to.

By the time her eyes reached the end, her whole body felt numb.

She sat frozen for a few moments, staring at the piece of paper in her hands as if hoping the words would change. But they didn't. And the reality hit her—he had let it all happen. He had stood by while her father was destroyed, while her family fell apart. And worse, he admitted he wanted her to feel that pain. As if she ever deserved it.

Her chest clenched and tears stung her eyes as she crumpled the letter in her fist and threw it onto the floor with a choked breath. She held her head in her hands, shaking slightly, fighting the breakdown that was crawling up her throat. But she couldn't hold it back. Not this time.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she slowly reached for her phone, her fingers desperate to call him, to demand an explanation–even though she knew there was none. She dialed his number with shaking hands, biting her lip.

Switched off.

Her trembling fingers loosened, and the phone dropped onto the mattress beside her. Her shoulders shook as she leaned forward, her face buried in her palms.

"Why, Taehyung?" she whispered through her sobs. "Why would you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?" Her voice cracked with raw anguish. "Why did I trust you? Why did I ever think you were different? You were just... another lie."

Her sobs turned deeper, as her heart shattered again–this time, not because she lost him, but because she finally saw who he truly was. A stranger. A coward. A man who could've saved her and chose not to.

"I hate you," she whispered shakily, staring blankly at the floor, her voice trembling. "You're pathetic... and so was I, for believing in you."

She curled up against the couch cushion, silent tears trailing down her face, her heart aching not just from betrayal but from the brutal realization that love wasn't always enough.

And sometimes... the ones who seem like saviors are the ones who leave the deepest scars.

Just as Evie collapsed into herself, her father came down the stairs, hearing the faint knock and wondering who had come at morning. "Evie?" he called softly, stepping into the dimly lit living room.

But the moment his eyes landed on her, his heart dropped.

She sat there, knees pulled to her chest, tears dropping down her face as she sobbing . She didn't even look up when he walked in.

"Evie... sweetheart?" he said gently, his voice laced with worry. "What happened? Who was at the door?"

No response.

He stepped closer, concern growing with every silent second. That's when he noticed the crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor near the couch. Curious and uneasy, he picked it up, slowly smoothing out the folds.

His eyes scanned the words.

And each sentence hit him like a blow.

By the time he finished, he stood frozen, shocked to his core. Taehyung? The same Taehyung who'd always smiled respectfully, who greeted him with nothing but kindness? According to him, Taehyung and Evie were just close friends. And now this?

He slowly walked over to the couch and knelt beside her.

"Evie," he said softly, his voice thick with concern. "I read the letter... sweetheart, talk to me. What's going on between you and Taehyung?"

Her head lifted slightly, and the moment she met his eyes, she broke. Without a word, she collapsed into her father's arms, clutching his shirt as sobs wracked her body. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his own throat burning, but he stayed strong–for her.

"I... I regret it, Dad," she finally choked out through the tears. "I regret everything. I trusted him... I believed in him."

She pulled back slightly, enough to look at him through tear-filled eyes. "I loved him. I thought he was different from the rest. He was kind, patient, and he looked like a gentleman. I thought I finally found someone who understood me."

Her voice cracked as the memories poured out like open wounds. "But everything changed... it all went so good, and then... something shifted in him. He turned cold. No explanation. No reason. I stayed patient. I kept hoping he'd come back to me. But then..."

She took a shaky breath.

"He said the cruelest things. Said he regretted being with me. Said I was at fault. Like I meant nothing." Her fists clenched. "And then... he came to my house, drunk. Said things about me, disgusting things. I slapped him. I couldn't take it anymore. I said what I had to say. I thought it ended there."

She looked away, shame and fury clouding her expression.

"I never imagined he'd go this far... that he'd make you lose your job. That he'd let us be humiliated. That he'd write something like this."

Her father sat in stunned silence, trying to process everything. His mind couldn't reconcile the image of the boy he'd known with the one described in that letter.

"I... I can't believe it," he said quietly. "Taehyung always seemed like one of the most decent young men I've ever met. But this..."

He looked down at his daughter–her tear-streaked face, the pain in her eyes and his own eyes welled up. But he quickly blinked the tears away and placed a reassuring hand on her head.

"Evie, listen to me," he said gently but firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong by trusting someone. That's not your fault. The fault lies in the person who breaks that trust."

He exhaled, voice heavy with experience. "We can't judge people by how they act in public. Sometimes the cruelest ones wear the kindest masks. And this world... especially the world of the rich and powerful–it's far more dangerous than it looks. They play games with hearts and lives as if they're just pieces on a board."

He cupped her face gently. "But you? You're stronger than you think. This pain won't last forever, Evie. And one day, he'll realize what he lost. You, on the other hand... you'll rise. I promise you that."

Evie broke down again, but this time, she cried into her father's shoulder from the comfort of knowing someone still stood beside her, even as the world turned its back.

✦───────────────✦

The sky was already turning into dusk by the time Evie walked down the familiar street toward her house, her feet aching from hours of walking and her heart feeling even heavier.

She'd spent the entire day out, chasing something–anything–that might help pull her and her father out of this mess. She'd applied for every loan she could find, even stood in long lines only to be turned away at the very last step.

Every door seemed to shut just when hope peeked through. And she couldn't help but feel that it wasn't just fate—it was someone. Someone didn't want her to rise again. Someone was making sure she stayed stuck.

And the thought of him made her chest tighten. What better punishment than to ruin not just her but her father too?

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she blinked them away.

How am she supposed to help him?

How do she fix this?

How do she face him... when it's all her fault?

The closer she got to home, the more her steps slowed. A part of her didn't want to enter. How could she walk into that house, look her father in the eyes, and pretend everything would be okay when she was the reason they were falling apart?

If she had just stayed away from Taehyung... if she had never fallen for his lies...

Wind brushed past her as she reached the gate, her fingers hesitating at the latch.

But then something caught her eye.

Shoes.

A pair she didn't recognize.

They have a visitor? she wondered.

Frowning slightly, she stepped inside, the sound of quiet voices drifting from the living room. Her heart picked up as she pushed the door open slowly, her bag slipping from her shoulder and landing on the floor with a soft thud.

And there he was.

Sitting on the sofa, talking calmly with her father-as if everything was perfectly normal.

Jungkook.

Evie's breath caught the moment her eyes landed on him. She blinked twice, thinking maybe she was just seeing things–but no.

It was him. Jeon Jungkook.

Sitting there on her couch, casually talking to her father like he belonged. Her heart dropped, disbelief tightening within her. She hadn't expected to see him again, especially not here–not in her home. Not after what she'd told him the last time they spoke. She'd made herself clear. She didn't want him near her. She didn't want him involved in her life. So how the hell did he even know where she lived?

Both men turned at the sound of the door closing behind her. Her father smiled warmly, standing up as he gestured toward her. "There you are, sweetheart. You're late. Good thing you came. Your friend here's been waiting for you."

Friend?

Brows furrowed as she stared at Jungkook, and gave her that same confident smile–like he hadn't barged into her life uninvited, like he wasn't the exact person she wanted to stay away from.

"You?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. "What are you even doing here?"

Her father looked at her, a bit confused by the sharpness in her tone. It was clear he hadn't picked up on any tension between them. He thought Jungkook was just another friend, as his father knows Jungkook and specially as he was her college mate.

Jungkook answered smoothly before she could say more. "Hi, Nothing serious, just wanted to check on you."

But that calm, easy tone only made her angrier. It felt like he was trying to act innocent. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep it together. Her father didn't know. She didn't want him worrying, not now–not when everything else was already falling apart.

"Dad, I'm feeling thirsty," she muttered, turning to her father. "Can I get a glass of water please?"

Though her sudden shift made him pause, her father nodded and headed to the kitchen. The moment he disappeared, Evie spun on Jungkook, her eyes cold and sharp.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed under her breath. "How do you even know where I live?"

Jungkook leaned against the arm of the sofa, unbothered, wearing that smug expression that made her blood boil. "Damn, calm down, sweetheart. You walk in and just start throwing a fit? I'm a guest, remember? You don't scream at guests."

He stood up slowly, eyes scanning her. "You look different," he murmured, voice softer but filled with something else. "Where were you all day? You look… tired. Your hair a mess, you're sweating, and your face looking different."

Before she could react, his hand reached up, cupping her cheek like he had any right to touch her. "Sit. We'll talk."

The audacity he had to dare to touch her.

She immediately shoved his hand away, taking a step back. "Don't touch me," she snapped. "Don't you dare touch me again."

Jungkook's smile faded just a bit, but his calm never cracked. "I told you. I just came to talk. It's nothing serious."

"Get out of my house," she said firmly.

He raised a brow, amused. "You're serious?"

She stepped forward, fury burning through her veins, her chest rising and falling. Her voice came out hard, with no hesitation.

"I said, get the hell out of my house."

He didn't move. Not even an inch.

Jungkook remained exactly where he was, leaning casually as if she hadn't just thrown him out. The corner of his lips twitched upward, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face–lazy, amused, unbothered.

"You're unbelievable," she snapped. "I'm telling you to fuck off, and you're just standing there like some shameless bastard."

His smirk only deepened, as if her anger entertained him. As if it meant nothing at all.

"You really think I'd leave just because you told me to?"

The confidence in him–so arrogant, so sure–only fueled her anger more that she shoved him hard.

He staggered back, shoulder hitting the doorframe but still, he didn't leave.

Grinding her teeth, she stormed to the front door and yanked it open.

"Out," she ordered. "Now."

She tried to slam it shut behind him, but his hand shot out, catching the door with brutal strength. She pushed back, her arms burning, but he didn't budge.

"Don't," she warned through clenched teeth. "Let go, Jungkook."

She putting her whole weight into it but he was too strong. The door wouldn't close. He wouldn't leave.

And then in one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, pulling her outside the house with him.

She gasped, stumbling as he forced the door shut behind them. The lock clicked into place and suddenly she was trapped–between him and the wooden door, his figure towering over hers.

"What the hell are you even doing?" she whispered, breathless, her heart racing.

He just stood there, looking at her with a strange intensity in his eyes–dark, unreadable, possessive.

"You seriously need to chill," he murmured, leaning in just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath. "Now that we're alone… let's talk properly."

This only make her anger, her chest heaving with frustration as her eyes burned into him.

And Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't move an inch. His usual cocky smirk still played on his lips, almost as if he found her rage amusing. When she shoved him, placing both her hands firmly against his chest, trying to push him back, his body remained firm, unmoved, like a wall. It only made her blood boil more.

"What the fuck is even this, huh?" she snapped, pushing at him again. "Why are you here? I told you not to come near me again! I told you I don't want to see your damn face!"

But he only tilted his head slightly, his grip catching her arms and holding her in place. There was no force that hurt–just enough strength to show he wasn't letting her go, not yet. His expression remained maddeningly calm, too relaxed for someone who was being yelled at.

He didn't answer her directly. Instead, his eyes traveled across her face slowly, noticing the weariness in her features, the messy strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead, and the way her breath faltered. "Damn," he murmured in a tone too casual for the situation. "Looks like the sun wasn't too kind to you today. Did you walk all the way here? I mean, it's obvious–your face is flushed, you're sweaty, even your hands are shaking. You should sit. Or want me to get you something cold to drink? I mean, clearly you're not doing great."

That was the last straw.

Her voice cracked with fury as she try to pulled her arms from his grip, cursing loud and raw, "You son of a bitch. What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Can't you just leave me the fuck alone?! I'm not in your damn mood you can just play around with and show up whenever you feel like it! I don't give a shit about you, so cut this fucking act and get out!"

Jungkook blinked, slightly startled by the choice of words and her intense anger. And then, to her disbelief, he laughed. A soft, low chuckle that felt more like mockery than amusement.

"You?" he said, voice dipped in smug confidence. "You curse like that? Damn. Didn't expect that. But I gotta admit…" His eyes dropped to her lips. "It sounds kind of hot coming from you. Cute little mouth, sharp little words."

The way he twisted everything, turned even her fury into a joke, made her feel more helpless than anything else. And he wasn't letting go. Her hand was still lightly pressed on his chest where she'd shoved him, not moving, not backing off.

"Drop the attitude, babe," he said lazily, cocking a brow. "I showed up here as a guest, politely, and you're kicking me out like this? Where are your manners, huh? Shameless girl."

Her expression changed.

The rage was still there, but it was mixed now–mixed with something deeper, something cracked. She took in a shaky breath, her eyes glistening, her voice lowering from rage to something barely above a whisper.

"Please…" she said, her voice fragile.

Jungkook's brows twitched.

"Please stop this," she said again, her voice softer this time, almost trembling. "I'm already broke. My life… it's falling apart. Everything's crashing down, and I'm barely holding on. I don't want more chaos. I don't want anyone interference."

He stood still. No smirk this time.

"I don't know what the hell you want from me," she continued, her eyes locked onto his with such raw pain. "I don't know why you're suddenly acting like you care when all you've ever done is to insult me. But whatever game you're playing, just stop. Please."

Her voice cracked on the last word.

"I'm begging you," she whispered. "Just leave me alone. I swear I won't come near you again. I won't even exist in your world. Just… please, Jungkook. Just please I don't need anyone interference."

The silence that followed after that was too uncomfortable.

Jungkook didn't say a word. His expression had changed–something she could not clearly read, but there was a flicker of something. A glint in his eyes, a tightness in his jaw. He looked at her–not with pity, but with a calmness that felt foreign on him.

And somewhere inside him, something—just a pinch, just a sliver—felt… off.

He didn't like it.

The feeling that stirred inside Jungkook was foreign–uncomfortable. He didn't like it, not one bit. 

He forced himself to shake it off, to dismiss it as just a flicker of weakness, a switch that flipped on accidentally, nothing more. He was never the emotional kind. He didn't feel things or pity like this. Or at least, he told himself that.

Still, without even realizing it, his fingers loosened their grip on her one hand. Slowly, silently, he reached for her face, his thumb brushing against the wet trail of a tear that had slipped down her cheek. His movements weren't gentle out of care–they were firm.

He stared at the wetness on his thumb, frowning slightly, almost disturbed. "Stop crying," he muttered low, as if the sight made him uncomfortable. Then, without waiting, he wiped another tear from her other eye, his brows drawn together in a conflicted frown.

He inhaled sharply, as though pull himself, collecting whatever mask he needed to wear. "Look, I'm not here to fight," he said finally, quieter this time. "I won't bother you, alright? I swear. I just…" He looked at her, really looked at her expression. "I just wanted to talk. That's all."

He paused for a moment, watching her remain still, silent, guarded. He continued, "I know you're not going to believe anything I say. You've made it pretty clear last time–shutting me completely up and all that. But… I didn't come here to argue with you. I came to apologize."

But it was only making her more confused.

Jungkook's voice softer than before, but there was something sharp underneath it–something crafted carefully in the way only he could do. "I heard what's going on with you. Taehyung. Everything. I know I made it worse. And I'm not proud of it. Believe me, I'm not."

He sighed again, shifting his weight, looking down for a moment before meeting her eyes. "I'm not a good person. I never claimed to be. I'm full of flaws, and I've done a lot of shitty things… but does that mean I don't get to feel guilty when I see you like this? Does that mean I'm not allowed to regret the things I've done?"

There was a beat of silence.

He took a half-step closer, eyes still on her, searching for even the smallest reaction. "Don't be so harsh. I'm not asking for much. Just… maybe a little forgiveness. Or at least a chance to fix the mess I made. You're a good person. I get that now. And I was blind not to see it before. Everyone deserves a second chance, don't they?"

His voice wavered for a brief second, a tiny crack in his tone that almost slipped out before he caught it. And then he hesitated. Something about her–those eyes filled with tears, the quiet in her breath, the way she didn't yell at him this time–something in all of it twisted inside him.

It was subtle, and he hated it.

Hated the strange way her tears affected him. It stirred something uncomfortable. And he didn't want to go there.

His hand lifted again without thinking, wiping away a fresh tear that rolled down her cheek. "Stop crying," he said again, firmer this time. "Just stop it already."

That feeling–it was clawing at his chest now, trying to push its way through. But he shoved it down, locked it away before it could surface. He told himself it was nothing. Just a weak moment.

He straightened up slightly, brushing off his voice as if nothing had happened. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that," he said, voice calmer again. "That's all."

Evie said nothing.

She stood there, frozen in the silence between them, her face unreadable now. She didn't argue. She didn't push him away this time.

And that silence?

It unsettled Jungkook more than anything else.

Evie stayed quiet for a long moment, eyes down. Then, finally, her voice came out soft, almost too soft. "It's okay," she said quietly, looking up at him. "I forgive you."

Jungkook blinked. For a second, he didn't respond, not sure if he'd heard her right. "Really?" he asked, a little surprised.

She nodded, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she repeated. "It's okay. I forgive you." Her voice was calm and that stirred a strange discomfort in him.

She gently pulling her hand from his grip and slightly push him to create some space between. "You wanted forgiveness, right? That's why you're here, that's why you've been bothering me," she said, her tone even and collected. "So now you have it. You can go."

He looked at her, clearly taken aback. Something in her response didn't sit well with him–like it wasn't what he expected. Or wanted.

"That's not… I mean, yes, I wanted to apologize," he said quickly, his voice dipping lower, trying to smooth out the tension. "But I didn't mean it like that. I also just wanted… I don't know… some kind of… connection. Like, maybe we could be friends or something. I want to help you."

Evie narrowed her eyes slightly, still not saying anything.

Jungkook went on, cautiously, carefully choosing his words. "I know what's been going on. Your dad… losing his job. Everything else you've been carrying on your own. I get it now. And I hate how you've been dealing with it all alone. That's why I was outside earlier. That's why I'm here now." He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right angle. "I want to be there. I want to help you, Evie. I'm not saying I'm some hero or anything–I know I'm not a good person but maybe, just this once, I could try to be."

But her face didn't soften.

Instead, she looked at him with a calm kind of finality in her eyes that made it clear she had already made up her mind. "You said you wanted forgiveness, and I gave it to you," she said, her voice firmer. "But I don't need your help. I'm capable of handling things on my own."

The finality in her voice can't be ignored.

There was no uncertainty, just steady resistance. "I appreciate that you apologized," she added, tone curt but civil, "but that doesn't mean I want you involved in my personal life. I don't want anyone's help."

"Evie, come on," Jungkook tried again, a little more insistently. "I'm not trying to manipulate you or anything. I'm just trying to do the right thing. Let me please."

But Evie wasn't having it. Her eyes hardened.

"I don't want your help," she repeated, firm and unflinching. "And I don't need it."

And with that, she turned without another word, walked inside, and quietly closed the door behind her–shutting him out with the same quiet finality.

Evie closed the door with a quiet click and leaned her back against it, her hand still resting on the knob. Her chest rose and fell in slow, breaths as if she were trying to calm a storm inside her that refused to settle.

The silence on the other side of the door stretched on. No knock, no sound of footsteps, no voice calling her name. And she didn't want to hear any of it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

When she turned around, her father was standing a few feet away in the hallway, holding a glass of water in his hands, his expression tense with worry and confusion. He had clearly heard enough to piece things together, or at least try. His brows furrowed as he searched her face for something she wasn't ready to share. But she didn't offer him any explanation.

Without meeting his eyes, she quietly said, "Don't let anyone in again. Not just because they say they know me or call themselves a friend." Her voice was flat, exhausted, but it has firmness that left no room for questions. Then, without another word, she turned away and walked to her room, closing the door gently behind her.

Outside, Jungkook still stood on the porch, staring blankly at the door she had just shut in his face. He hadn't knocked again. Hadn't said a word. And that in itself was strange.

He didn't usually back down this easily. He didn't walk away. Not when he had something to say, not when he wanted something.

But something about that whole scene... the way her voice cracked, the way her tears had fallen even when she was trying so hard to hold herself together–it did something to him.

It left a strange feeling in his chest, a tightness that irritated him more than it should have. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. That was the rule he lived by. But whatever this was–it didn't sit right. It didn't feel like him. And he didn't like it. Not one damn bit.

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath.

He turned sharply on his foot and walked off, not looking back. Because if he did, he wasn't sure what the hell he'd do next.