The Other Woman→𝙆𝙏𝙃

[Thirty Two; Lets Swap]

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[TAEHYUNG]

[AGE EIGHTEEN]
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"Taehyung. Your Illy." Mrs Sorve brings my best friend to me.

After a whole year, I finally see my best friend.

For a year, I've held onto the memory of this moment—of seeing her again. Through the suffocating weight of grief and the endless nights of loneliness in a foreign country, it was this memory, this hope, that kept me going. Memories of a girl who had been my anchor in the chaos and the only reason I fought with my father to come back home. 

I was sent away to States a year ago. Right after losing my sister, my father decided that what I needed, wasn't time to grieve but distance—to bury my emotions under the cold discipline of a structured life. As if ripping me from my home and everyone I cared about would make the pain disappear. 

It didn't.

But Ila... Ila had been my lifeline. Even from across the ocean, she was the only part of my old life I allowed myself to keep, the only part I wasn't willing to let go of.

Which is why, as soon as I turned eighteen, I booked the first flight home. I was not going to waste another second with the man I detest with all my being.

And now, standing just a few feet away, is the girl I've been yearning to see.

I take her in. Her features are soft, her smile hesitant but warm, and there's a familiarity in the way she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Her hair falls in the same way I remember, the way I used to tease her about. Surprisingly, even after a year, she looks exactly the way she did before. Her style, mannerisms, nothing changed. 

I thought seeing her would fill the gaping hole in my chest, the one that's been there since my sister was gone. I thought it would bring me back to life, remind me of who I used to be before everything fell apart. 

But  all I feel is... hollow.

Empty.

Numb.

Mrs Sorve's smile is evident. "It's been so long. I wasn't sure if you'd ever come back."

"I had to," I say, though the conviction in my voice is forced. I didn't fight my father to come back here just to feel this way.

"You've changed," she says,  "You look so different."

"So does Ila," I say automatically, but even as the words leave my mouth, they feel detached. 

There's nothing different about the way she looks. At least not visually. But it something still feels changed. 

I had imagined this moment a thousand times, had thought I'd feel joy or comfort or something. But instead, there's this strange, empty sensation, like I'm standing on the edge of something I can't quite grasp.

"Of course, she has. Everything has been so hard for her." Her mother sighs. "I haven't heard Ila speak since you left, Taehyung. She lost you and... Y/n."

The name burns in my ears, scorching through my thoughts. Y/n. Even thinking about her feels like dragging my mind through broken glass.

Hatred isn't a strong enough word for what I feel for her. It's deeper than anger, darker than resentment. It's venom that courses through my veins every time her name is mentioned, a heavy weight pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I lost my sister because of her.

Because of her recklessness. Her selfishness. Her complete disregard for anyone else. If it weren't for her, my sister would still be here. Alive. Smiling. Filling the room with her warmth and light instead of this suffocating void that Y/n left in her wake.