✓ GREEDY HEARTS | JAY

41 - Nothing I Wouldn't Do

Y/N'S POV

I don't think I fully grasp the fact that Choi Minho just sacrificed himself for me. It just doesn't seem real. It just doesn't align with the version of Minho I've known, but it seems like there's no time for me to fully process the shock. "Minho-" I reach for him, hands trembling while he struggles to breathe. Blood continues to stain his suit, pooling around him on the cold floor.

"Y/N," He wheezes, a weak smile attempting to form on his lips. "You should go."

"N-no-" When I reach for the gun under my dress, Jay's hand grabs mine and he's pulling me away from Minho who's now slipping further into the clutches of darkness. "Let go! We have to get him help!" I protest, my eyes locked on Minho's fading figure. A numbness takes over, and I feel detached from the world around me. The plan, the revelation, the danger – all of it fades away, leaving only the harsh reality of Minho sacrificing himself for me.

"He's gone, Y/N. We need to go now." I don't even register Jay's words. The world seems to move in slow motion as we run out of the place, making it to what I presume is a safe distance. Jay's men have a car waiting for us, and we pile into it, the doors slamming shut behind us. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me see." Jay's hands gently cup my face, his eyes searching for any signs of injury. The warmth of his touch brings me back to the present, and I realize that I'm physically unharmed, unlike Minho.

Silence settles in the car, broken only by the distant wailing of sirens while I just stare into his eyes. The car is now speeding through the city, the urban landscape blurring in the background as I try to wrap my head around the events that unfolded. Minho's sacrifice echoes in my mind like a haunting refrain. The man I once despised, the man I thought I could never understand, just gave his life for mine.

"Why did he do that?" I finally manage to whisper, my voice distant even to my own ears. The shock of what just happened is still reverberating through my body. I wait for Jay to react some way, to offer an explanation that could make sense of the chaos that has unfolded. But he only wraps his arms around me and tightens his grip on me like he's trying to shield me from the harsh reality. He doesn't speak, though, he simply gives space for my sobs to muffle into the fabric of his suit. As I bury my face against his chest, the smell of his cologne makes me cry harder. 

I've missed him. I've missed this feeling—being ins his arms, knowing damn well that he would protect me no matter what. But now, everything is tainted by the bitter taste of loss.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, pass in this silent embrace. Eventually, Jay gently pulls away, his hands cupping my face as he wipes away the tears with his thumbs. His eyes are two deep pools of pain, reflecting the raw emotion we both feel. "I'm sorry I didn't remember you." His words make my heart break into millions of tiny pieces. Though it had been broken before, over and over, this feels different. It feels like the shattering of illusions, the realization that the missing pieces of our lives were deliberately hidden from us. I always wondered how a heart can break if it's already shattered, but in this moment, I understand that the heart has infinite ways to fracture, each one more painful than the last. 

Jay is apologizing for having his memories erased by his father, something I never held against him. But I can understand him because I'm sorry too, and even if it's not my fault that he didn't remember, the guilt still lingers. I'm sorry for the pain, I'm sorry that he was the witness to my parents' murder, and I'm sorry for the twisted path our lives took. Instead of apologizing for the countless choices and betrayals, for the wounds we've inflicted on each other, my fingers trace his shoulder, right where my dagger pierced his skin. "I'm sorry for hurting you." The words slip out from between my lips, inadequate and insufficient. My guilt is more than just a short sentence that's easily uttered. My guilt eats me alive and threatens to drown me in the sea of regrets.

I expect him to lash out, to curse me, to at least show some anger or resentment because not only I stabbed him, but I also pushed him and claimed I could never love him when I was aching for his for his presence. His lips linger for a moment, the warmth seeping into my skin, a silent reassurance that leaves me breathless. "Nothing you do to me can change the fact that I love you, Y/N. No amount of pain can erase the love I feel for you. It's deeper than that pain, and if a wound is what you're going to leave me with, then it's a wound I'll carry proudly. You're worth it, every scar and every ache."

His words wrap around me like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to feel something other than guilt and despair. His gaze searches mine, and for a moment, it feels like time has stood still, allowing us to exist in this fragile space between chaos and acceptance. "Jay, I-"

"I thought I lost you," He admits, and as we pass next to a light pole, I catch the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. He looks tired, exhausted even, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. And knowing him, that might very well be the case. "When you pushed me away, when you said those words, I thought I lost the woman I love. Stabbing me didn't hurt as much as the words you said. I understood that you did it for a reason, but it didn't make it any less painful. I thought if I could just deny my feelings for you and go on as if none of it mattered, I could somehow protect myself from the pain. But I love you, Y/N, and it scares the hell out of me because there's nothing I wouldn't do for you-"

Before Jay gets to finish his sentence, the car screeches to a sudden halt. The abrupt stop jolts us, and I glance out the window to see we've arrived at an inconspicuous location. Jay's men, silent and efficient, open the car doors, signaling that this is our destination. "Where are we?" I ask, looking around at the dimly lit alley.

"Somewhere safe. Come on." For a moment, I stare at his extended hand and then take it, allowing him to lead me into the shadows. The alleyway twists and turns and I'm too dazed to memorize the path The sounds of our footsteps echo in the narrow space, and the distant city noises are gradually replaced by an eerie silence. Until we finally reach the end of the alley, where a nondescript door stands slightly ajar. Jay pushes it open, revealing a staircase leading down into darkness. Below ground? "It's the safest place for now. My mother and Yejin are here as well." 

The mention of my little sister makes me feel relief seep through my veins. The fact that Jay has been keeping her safe despite me pushing him away and involving him in this dangerous game speaks volumes about the love and care he still harbors for me, for us. 

"Thank you," I murmur against his shoulder, my voice muffled. Gratitude, regret, and a thousand other unspoken words linger in that simple phrase. And I know he gets it. I know he does when he holds me tighter and plants a soft kiss against my shoulder. I know there's nothing he wouldn't do for me, for us.