On That Day We | sakook

chapter 5.

Jungkook's POV

　
　
I kept thinking about my conversation with Jimin and Yoongi earlier.

After I confessed to them what I've been doing for the past few days, they told me I'm being crazy, accusing me of being a creepy stalker.

　
"That's called stalking, Jungkook. You found her, and then what? What's your plan?" Jimin said through the phone.
　

I needed a few drinks to destress. These past few days, I hadn't been able to get enough sleep. I found myself constantly outside, waiting and watching from afar, just to ensure she was safe.

Hoping to clear my thoughts, I made my way to the hotel bar in the lobby.

I'll admit, what I'm doing might seem a bit strange. But what choice do I have? It feels like she's being too careless with her life, always putting herself in danger.

And she's alone. I found out her husband died recently, the landlady of the apartment she's currently staying in told me.

My heart sank just thinking about it, even though I already expected that. Of course, they would've been married.

I emptied the alcohol in my glass, signaling the bartender for another pour. It was my tenth drink of the night.

　
"I'll bring her home. Her family needs to see her," I blurted out as I stared into space.

"As if she'd come with you," Jimin countered, his words making me silent.

"If I were you, I'd leave her alone. It's been years since she left. If she even thought of coming back, she would've done it sooner."
　

It's the most sensible advice, I know.

But I made a promise to her mom and her brother that I would bring her back. We gave up hope a long time ago, but now that I've seen her again, I want to fulfill that promise once more.

After what happened earlier, the thought of leaving her here alone is unbearable.

I feel a need to protect her, even though she doesn't want me anymore.

I can't shake the memory of the second night I saw her, standing on the Hangang Bridge.
　

That day, I followed her from the restaurant where she worked, watching as she was kicked out. My heart sank just seeing her like that.

I wanted to go to her, to hold her tight, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't face her again, not yet.

So I continued to watch her from a distance, as creepy as it sounds.

She bought bottles of soju and drank them all. When she reached the bridge, tears streamed down her face as she gazed up at the sky. I wondered why.

As she stood on the ledge, ready to step off, I rushed to her and pulled her away. I expected a confrontation, but she didn't seem to recognize me. Maybe she was too drunk to remember me, or perhaps she had forgotten me altogether.

Meeting her eyes tore me apart inside. I wanted to be angry with her. I should be.

But I missed her. I missed her so bad.

Yet she seems so different now, not the same person I once knew.

I couldn't bear it any longer. Overwhelmed with emotions, I turned away and walked off into the night.

I didn't learn about her husband's death until the following day when I visited their apartment.

After our encounter at the bridge, I continued to follow her until she reached a bus stop. I couldn't bring myself to leave her alone all night.

I wanted to take her to my hotel room, but I wasn't ready for any confrontations at that moment. I simply couldn't.

The next morning, when she woke up, I followed her onto the bus and to her home. Thankfully, she didn't notice me. She even accidentally bumped into my back as we got off the bus.

That's when I discovered the unit where she lived.

I spoke with the landlady, inquiring about any available units. She offered an apologetic smile and informed me that there were none available. However, she quickly extended an offer for one.

"But if that particular tenant fails to pay me by the end of the month, her apartment would be available for you to rent as your own..." I realized it must have been her apartment based on how the old lady described her.

Surprisingly, the landlady delved into their story from there.

"Her husband passed away about 3 weeks ago," she began. "I imagine she's struggling financially from the hospital bills and funeral expenses. But even before his death, that couple had been falling behind on rent for months. I've been dealing with their excuses and delays for quite some time..."

I didn't need to ask any more questions because the old woman told me almost everything I needed to hear about her current situation.

"That Janna and her late husband Wonsik, I find them weird..." she continued.

I wasn't surprised to hear that they had changed their names.

"They moved in here 2 years ago," she explained. "The girl look so pretty and young, but too innocent... too aloof. Every time I tried to talk to her, she would avoid me, as if she were afraid. Her husband seems to pull her away from people too. She clung to him like a little child, and they were inseparable. I never saw her go outside alone, except when waiting for her husband at the bus stop. Even then, her movements were cautious, as if she were afraid of going too far."

Every detail she shared only heightened my concern. I listened intently, feeling a growing sense of worry with each word.

"Until her husband died. That's when I noticed her coming out of their unit more often. She still keeps to herself. It's like she shuts herself off from the world. I think the new tenant is trying to be friends with her, but I know he'd get tired eventually. No one wants to be friends with a weirdo like her."

　
Because of everything I knew from the landlady. I grew even more curious about what happened to her all these years.

It seemed like she lived a miserable life with him. Why would she choose that life over what she had back then?

Did she really love him more than she had loved me? Did she even love me at all? These questions gnawed at me.

I thought the alcohol would wash away all the questions in my head. But I was wrong.

But amidst it all, I couldn't shake the nagging worry of what might have happened to her if I hadn't been there at the Hangang bridge the other night. And what if I hadn't followed her earlier? She could have been harmed in that alley, or worse.

I shuddered at the thought.

"What's your plan, Jungkook?" Jimin hyung's voice echoed in my head as I downed another gulp of alcohol.

There was only one way to find out my next move—I would go talk to her tomorrow.