✓ SOUR SWEETHEARTS | JAKE

26 - A Child's Burden Of Guilt

Y/N's life turned upside down. Writing didn't feel like an escape anymore; it felt like a cruel reminder of the tangled mess she had stumbled into. The world moved on, but she was right where Jake left her on that rainy day. She couldn't forget how he retreated from her, how the rain poured down, blending with the tears that streamed down her face, as he disappeared into the distance.

Days turned into weeks and she was living in a relentless cycle of longing and despair. Detective Park had been working on the case while she attended the book club meetings, worked part-time at the library and spent her nights near the Han River, crying, begging the world for answers that seemed forever out of reach.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You sound upset." Her mother asked on the other line of the call and she wiped her tears, trying not to make a sound and pretending to be fine. 

"I'm okay, Mom. Just a bit tired, that's all." The last thing she wanted was to make them worry about her. She didn't want to taint their happiness with her own struggles and pain. "I'll call you later, okay? Make sure to get some rest and take care of yourselves." When they hung up, she put the phone on her lap and took a deep breath, her hands running through her hair. 

Everything was eating her alive. The moment she stopped writing about all that pain and emotions that seemed to haunt her, locking them in the pages and letting them breathe through her words, it all came crashing down.

Returning home, she stepped inside and stopped in front of the mirror, watching her reflection with tired eyes. She wasn't beautiful anymore. Now she looked like she was a raw wound and it made her wonder if she would ever heal. If she would ever stop feeling like a shattered piece of glass scattered on the floor.

She sighed, putting her bag on the couch before she made her way to her room and lay down on her bed, her back colliding with the soft mattress that always welcomed her with open arms. She stared at the ceiling like it was the most intriguing piece of art she had ever seen, tracing invisible patterns in the textured surface as if searching for answers in the plaster and paint.

Her phone buzzed with a message, and she reluctantly picked it up, half-expecting it to be a text from Areum checking up on her. Instead, it was a message from Detective Park. Her heart quickened as she read the words. Y/N, we need to talk. Can you meet me at the police station tomorrow morning?

If she could meet him right then, she would have rushed to the police station without a second thought. But it was late, and the police station would be closed at this hour. With a sigh, she typed out a quick response: Of course, Detective. Tomorrow morning, I'll be there. She hit send and placed her phone on the nightstand beside her bed. Tomorrow felt like a distant promise, and the night stretched on endlessly.

She took a quick shower, feeling the warmth of the water wash away her exhaustion even if it lingered in her skin, in her bones and her heart. It was only two in the morning when she went back to her bed and lay down, staring at the window that seemed to frame the distant stars. She reached for her phone, staring at the messages she had sent Jake.

They didn't read as delivered anymore, now they read as seen. Jake had clearly read her messages but hadn't responded. Their last encounter left her confused and hurt. She didn't even know why he went to her old house, or why he had reacted the way he did. She couldn't understand how he went from the love-struck person she once knew to the distant, almost heartless man he had become.

The next morning, after a whole night of tossing and turning, Y/N reluctantly dragged herself out of bed. The sun had barely begun to cast its soft morning light through her window, but she knew she had to meet Detective Park. She dressed in casual clothes, grabbed her bag, and headed out the door. 

When she stepped into the police station, the faint smell of coffee and the echoes of hushed conversations brought back a sense of déjà vu. Detective Park greeted her with a sympathetic smile and led her to the same small interrogation room. "I'm glad you could make it."

She gave him a polite smile and clutched her bag when the two of them sat down. Her anxiety gnawed at her and she started picking at her nails, a nervous habit she had developed over the years. "What do you need to talk about, Detective?"

"Remember about the anonymous source that had come forward with information about the case?" He began, his voice measured and cautious and when Y/N nodded, he cleared his throat. "He's in the room across the hall, waiting to speak with you."

Y/N gulped, her heart racing when she was led to the room where whoever requested reopening her parents' case sat. She took a deep breath and steadied herself before stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, and she could make out the silhouette of a person sitting on the other side of the table. But the moment he stood up and faced her, she felt her heart lurch in her chest.

"Jake...?" Her voice trembled as she stared at him in disbelief. Her mind struggled to process the unexpected sight before her because there was no way this could be real. It felt like a dream, a surreal nightmare.

"I told you my life is so complicated, Y/N. It's so draining to be the witness to the tragedy that destroyed your life..." He took a step closer to her, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm so sorry you had to find out like this."

"Why...?" She couldn't understand. No, she couldn't accept the reality of it all. Her world had crumbled once again, and she felt adrift in a sea of confusion and pain. "How are you... is that why you were there yesterday?"

Jake's eyes glistened with tears as he tried to find the right words. "Yeah... but I never knew that you were the little girl who lost her parents that night. Until yesterday when you told me about your house."

"Oh..." She slowly sat down, her breathing shallow and uneven. "Do you... do you know who was it? Detective Park said you saw someone set the fire that night."

There was a heavy silence as the two stared into each other's eyes, one waiting eagerly for the truth, the other desperately wanting to hide it. One moment stretched into another until Jake finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with guilt. "I don't remember. I was a child." 

I was a child, he wanted to say. I was a child who had witnessed a horrific event and had been burdened with that trauma ever since. But the words stuck in his throat, the weight of his father's sins and his own silence almost suffocating.