Part - II - C5 - Seven stages of Grief

WE SHOULD(N’T) TALK MORE...

After my dinner debacle I wasn’t in any mood to go out. I didn’t even tell Hoseok I and Mr. Min went out to eat. It felt like I was cheating on Taehyung.

Well, it wasn’t cheating since it didn’t happen. Taehyung crashed my only outing with him...Well, I went home and boiled myself ramyeon.

But today its Friday. Friday night used to be the best night of the week. Once upon a time…before my age started skirting thirty and responsibility became more important than tequila shots and dancing the night away.

Also, since when did hangovers evolve into the bubonic plague?

In our younger years, Taehyung and I could walk the thin line between alcohol poisoning and passing out in a friend’s bushes, then wake up the next day refreshed and ready to do it all over again.

Now two beers were enough to land me on my ass for the rest of the weekend with a nasty headache and Exorcist-style puking.

Taehyung wasn’t like me, though. He could still party unapologetically like he was at his bachelor party every single night. Which worked well for him.

He was in a band. A band.

But not the Beatles. Taehyung was the farthest thing from a Beatles.

Thank god.

He had been named Kim Vantae and in short ‘V’ which didn’t work for him since he hated that name. I loved it. Not because I had a thing for boy bands. But because I could give him an endless hard time about it.

Come on. It never got old.

I would sing ‘look who V are, V are the dreamers...’ and he would snort. At the age of thirty, my husband still hadn’t given up his dreams of becoming the next big thing.

Our entire marriage had been centered around his big break, the big break that never came. Our weekends were booked with gigs and late nights at seedy venues. That faded into me slouched on the couch while he felt embarrassed bringing me to his gigs.

His college degree that he’d earned with honors was all but forgotten in his pursuit of happiness.

He was good at it.

I would never claim otherwise. My husband could sing and play guitar and rock out on stage as if he belonged on the radio and in stadiums surrounded by hundreds of thousands of fans.

He was something to see on stage.

I was transfixed from the very first moment I saw him up there. He never failed to make me fall in love with him every time he took the stage and opened his mouth.

But the music industry was not a fair place. He knew that more than anyone else.

We had lost so much money to bad agents and self-recorded albums.

I had watched my savings dwindle and my hard-earned paychecks disappear into new equipment and demos. It had been amazing while we were dating. I used to love having the lead singer’s complete attention.

I loved that he wrote songs about how much he loved me. I loved that my husband was in a band.

Fast forward seven years, it wasn’t as pretty. The shininess had worn off and the glitter had faded. I was tired of supporting us on my pathetic teacher’s salary and begging him to get a real job, a job that paid something.

And I could tell he was tired. He was tired of failing. He was tired of not making it. With each passing year, he’d grown more cynical…more jaded. His music was still great. His music would always be great. But at some point, we had to grow up.

I supported him for as long as I could- both emotionally and financially. But I reached my limit and I couldn’t hide it anymore.

I didn’t even want to think about what that did to him…what it felt like to have the person that was supposed to love him most in the world give up on himself.

Guilt swam in my stomach, erasing my hunger and determination to stock my empty refrigerator. I pushed the cart forward and let go for a few seconds. Grocery shopping on a Friday night. This was about as grown up as it got.

But not in a good way.

I looked at the few items in my basket and tried not to roll my eyes. I had been wandering around the store for forty-five minutes and hadn’t been able to find anything that sounded good.

I’d picked up lots of Taehyung’s favorites before I realized that he didn’t live with me anymore. Putting them back on the shelf made me feel so pathetic.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of failure when I acknowledged that taking care of Taehyung was a hard habit to shake.

Plus, it made me realize that I had been catering to his needs for so long, I didn’t know how to take care of my own.

Why didn’t I know what I liked to eat?

Why couldn’t I pick out groceries for me?

The embarrassing part was that I started to realize how much of a crutch Taehyung had been for me.

When we were married, I felt completely fine buying junk food for us because it was all stuff that Taehyung liked. I realized I blamed him for bad eating habits, when really, when it came down to it, it was food I actually preferred.

Now my conscience wouldn’t let me pick out the sugary cereals or the mountains of chocolate I craved. Now I had all of this obnoxious guilt for not buying organic produce and rice cakes.

Damn Taehyung and his obsession with processed foods.

I loved high fructose corn syrup. I grabbed my wayward cart and dropped my head down to the cold metal handlebar.

‘It shouldn’t be this hard.’ The chill from the freezer section pulled goose bumps from my arms and legs, but I didn’t have the willpower to keep walking.

I just wanted to give up and go home. I could order Chinese. Again. Or eat my weight in ramyeon.

My body jerked when someone banged their cart into mine. The scraping metal and squeaky wheels grated on my nerves and I snapped my head up, ready to rip someone’s hair out.

Or at least give them a stern verbal lashing.

Okay, probably more likely it would have been a meaningful glare. But they would have felt shamed.

I would have totally shamed them with my evil eye. Today was the wrong day to mess with me.

My lips parted and my eyebrows shot to my hairline when I saw Taehyung at the helm of the other cart. My eyes moved over his faded maroon t-shirt and low-slung jeans. In one second, I noted his hair that was just slightly too long and the seven a.m. beard that roughened his perfect jaw.

I could close my eyes and picture this man perfectly naked. When he appeared out of nowhere, I saw the differences in him without trying. It had been a week since I last saw him.

“What are you doing here?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could tame my reaction.

His lips twitched with an almost smile. “I think you forget that I’m still alive. It’s like you don’t expect me to keep on existing now that I’m not in your life every day.”

His words were only barely playful. Mostly they held a sharp edge of bitterness.

“That’s ridiculous,” I countered immediately. Even though, maybe he was a little right. “You’ve just surprised me.”

He leaned forward as if telling me a secret, “You’re ridiculously easy to surprise.”

The shock of seeing him here receded and I pressed my lips together when I felt laughter bubble up inside me. “Whatever.”

Memories of our relationship tumbled around in my head, but I suppressed them. I was already an emotional wreck. I didn’t need him to witness my most recent damage.

Taehyung tugged at his earlobe, his nervous tell. “So, uh, really, you surprised me too. I didn’t expect to see you here. On a Friday night.”

“Ice cream,” I suddenly decided. It was so much better than the truth. “I need ice cream.”

He raised one eyebrow, a look I used to love on him. “Bad week?”

“Week from hell.”

“Yeah, me too.” His words were a forlorn mumble, and I had the immediate urge to ask why.

Instead, I forced my lips to stay shut. We stared awkwardly at each other, neither of us knowing how to navigate our fragile peace treaty from last week. Long seconds ticked by while people moved around us and bad pop music drifted through the store.

“So, what are you in the mood for?” His gaze swung toward the frosted freezer doors, where cartons of ice cream sat hidden behind cloudy glass.

The million-dollar question.

“I should probably get the staples first, right? If I pick out ice cream now it will melt by the time I get to the car.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I looked back at Taehyung and found him watching me. His fingers flexed and stretched while his palms rested on the metal bar. He was trying not to reach for his earlobe.

“What do you need to get?” I asked quietly.

It was weird talking to him. Even if it was just over groceries. Our relationship had always revolved around conversation, even if we were screaming at each other.

But he’d been mostly out of my life over the last few months. We had nothing to fight about at the moment, but we couldn’t exactly bare our souls in the middle of battle either.

We had never been good at small talk. Not even in the beginning.

‘What do you want most in life?’ That had been the first question he asked me on our fateful second date.

I remembered staring at him for longer than was comfortable. I remembered wanting to fidget but wanting to figure him out more.

When I answered him, I hadn’t known what I was going to say or if it would even be true.

‘I want a life, a real one. I want to go to sleep knowing each day meant something profound and at the end of it, I want to know it was worth the ride.’

‘That doesn’t sound easy,’ he’d said. His lips had tilted on one side with a crooked half-smile that had made butterflies take flight in my entire body.

‘I didn’t say I wanted easy. I want lovely.’

He had met my eyes and I noticed for the first time how blue his were. They were electric with intensity, searing with focus. He had leaned forward and whispered, “You are lovely.”

I cleared my throat and tried to erase the memory of our past. It was one of my favorites. It was the one that promised I would fall in love with him, the one that buried him beneath my skin and wrapped him around my heart.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he murmured.

His words hit me unexpectedly and like usual when he was around, I felt like crying.

“Oh, sure,” I said quickly. I tried to replace the defenses around my heart, but it was too late. He’d penetrated them too quickly.

“It’s not fair of me to ask you to small talk about…ice cream. I’m sure you have other things to do.” He added with a frustrated sigh.

I yanked my cart back, ready to make a fast retreat when he stopped me with a chuckle.

“Jungkook,” he called. “I meant that I’m having a hard time grocery shopping. I don’t know how to do /this/.” He gestured around him with a lazy flick of his hand. “You used to…it used to be your thing. I’m completely out of my element.”

As sharp and shocking as rejection hit me, the sweet pulse of relief was just as strong. I swayed with the dizzying notion and then immediately berated myself for letting him control my emotions like this.

Letting him still control my emotions like this.

“Want some help?” I offered gently.

He tugged on his earlobe while he weighed my question. I could see indecision flicker in his bright eyes. He wanted to know what this would cost him.

I immediately felt guilty. “I need help too,” I said. “I can’t remember anything I like. I only remember everything you like.”

His lips kicked up in a small smile. “That’s exactly my problem.”

It was my turn to feel indecisive.

What was I doing?

Before I could talk myself out of my better instincts, I suggested, “We could…we could shop together. You remind me what I like and I’ll do the same for you. That work?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, “Sure. That works.”

We turned our carts so that we could walk side-by-side. It worked well in the freezer department because the aisles were wider, but the rest of the store was more crowded, so I took the lead.

“You like peanut butter,” I offered.

“But what kind?” He stared at the shelves. His lips pressed into a frown, and I watched his eyes move over the different kinds and sizes of jars with determined concentration.

It was my turn to smile. “You don’t know what brand of peanut butter you like?”

He rubbed his hand along the side of his jaw, his dark scruff uncanny. “I know what I like, but that one’s cheaper.” He pointed to the store brand and my smile stayed in place. “Does it taste the same?”

When his eyebrows drew down and he looked at me with the helpless expression of a lost little boy I couldn’t help but laugh.

I shook my head slowly and said, “No, it doesn’t. Don’t be cheap with peanut butter.”

“But the kind I like is six dollars more.”

“And so worth it.”

His forehead smoothed out and his lips twitched again. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, what about jelly?” He put his favorite brand of peanut butter in the cart and moved down a shelf.

“That you can be less picky about. I usually go for the one that’s on sale and has a flavor I like.”

His low chuckle followed him as he grabbed a jar of raspberry preserves. “Are we too old to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

“Don’t say that. We both know it’s the breakfast of champions.”

“So, the cashier isn’t going to judge me?”

“Just mention the kids you have waiting for you at home.”

The jar fell out of his hands and crashed into the cart. He ignored the jelly and spun toward me. “You don’t do that.”

“Pepero and Hotteok are your favorites. Of course, I do that!”

His deep laughter warmed the air between us and I found myself smiling too. “You’re an evil genius, Jeon Jungkook.”

I ignored the way his teasing burned through me or the nostalgia that tickled my belly when he used my full name. I pushed my cart forward and led us to another aisle.

“Is it your students?” His deep voice chased after me.

I avoided running into another shopper when I turned the corner and processed his words. “My rough week?”

“Yeah, your rough week. Is it your kids this year? Or new management? What’s going on at SNU?”

“Mostly the kids,” I explained over my shoulder. “We’re still establishing the pecking order. They’re not ready to admit I’m in charge yet.”

“Because high school kids are a/ssholes,” he added in my defense.

My lips turned up in another smile. “That they are.”

I rubbed my chin on my shoulder as I looked at him. “The beginning of the year is always the hardest.”

He met my eyes with a steady gaze. “I remember.”

My heart thumped painfully in my chest and I took a deep breath before I could tear my attention from him. “Ramyeon.”

“What?” His voice was rougher than it had been a few seconds ago. “You like ramyeon. And it’s easy to make.” I pointed at his favorite kind of noodles and sauce before adding some to my own cart. “Basically, all you need to be able to do is boil water.”

He reached for some noodles. “I think I can handle spaghetti. If I have to eat another cheeseburger this week, I might murder hyung.”

I laughed. “Hyung doesn’t cook?”

Taehyung threw me an annoyed look. “Namjoon eats McDonalds. For every meal.”

I wrinkled my nose. I thought Taehyung and I had eaten badly, but that was above and beyond a bowl of ice cream every night. “He’s going to die of a heart attack. He’s thirty-two! He can’t live like that forever.”

Taehyung nodded, “I tell him that every day.”

I smiled thinking of Taehyung’s brother and how immature he could be. “He needs a partner to settle him down.”

My smile died when Taehyung flinched. I realized my mistake, but I didn’t know how to take it back. I just wanted to swallow every stupid word and run away. Or throw a jar of marinara sauce on the ground to distract him.

I turned toward the shelves again and stared blindly at the sauces. I picked one up and tried to read the label, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the tears swimming in my eyes.

Finally, Taehyung spoke and I wished more than anything I had just ordered Chinese. “A partner might save him from a heart attack, but they’ll kill him in every other way.” His voice dipped low and I felt the cruel bitterness in my bones.

It was a miracle I didn’t throw the jar of sauce after all- only this time it would have been aimed at his head. I was too angry to look at him, too hurt to breathe.

I felt suffocated by his presence, his bitter attitude, his razor sharp tongue. I wanted to abandon my cart and flee, but I couldn’t convince my feet to move.

It was so silly. He hadn’t said anything shocking. It wasn’t like I’d never heard this before.

I was the dream-killer. I was the cold-hearted shrew blinded by rational thought and practicality.

I was the reason Taehyung couldn’t make it.

I was the reason Taehyung had to give up his dream.

And here we were again.

Even though we were separated. Even though Taehyung was welcome to do whatever he wanted with his life. Even though I couldn’t tell him what to do anymore.

It was still my fault.

“This was stupid,” I spoke in a shaking whisper, one part tremulous tears, the other vibrating anger. “What are we doing?”

Taehyung leaned in and growled. “I ask myself that every damn day.”

My head snapped up and I tried not to be sick. “I mean in the grocery store. I mean here, right now. What are we doing trying to navigate single life together? Are we stupid?”

His face flushed red and more emotions than I could name ping-ponged through me. The scent I used to go all ga-ga over now felt like a far fetched truth of the reality that was staring back at me.

I hated myself again.

I hated him again.

I just wanted to stop feeling like this.

“We must be,” he admitted. “There’s obviously no other explanation for why we keep doing this to each other.”

I nodded.

Even though I felt the same way, it still killed to have him say it aloud.

I lifted my chin and bravely told him, “I have a lawyer.”

I didn’t.

But I wanted one.

It was time to stop being a coward.

He took a step back like I had physically hit him. The color immediately drained from his face and I thought for a second he was going to be sick.

After an eternal minute where we stared each other down in front of noodles, he gritted out, “Good. That’s good...Good...good.”

Immediately I felt guilty and tried to explain, “We can’t stay separated forever. I figured you would want to move on with your life.”

“Like you do.”

“What do you mean?” I took a steadying breath and ignored the accusation. “I’m just trying to give us both peace.”

“I’ve heard that about divorce. It’s such a peaceful time for everyone involved.”

Bile rose in my throat. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what, Jungkook? I’m not the one pushing for divorce.”

“You’re making it seem like it’s all my fault. This is what we both want.” I quickly swiped at a wayward tear and tried not to throw up.

He rocked back on his heels and swallowed thickly. “I keep forgetting that part.”

“I need to go.” Before I broke down in front of him.

Before I admitted that this was so much harder than I thought it was going to be.

Before I said anything to get that betrayed look off his face.

“Sure.”

“Bye, Taehyung.”

He stared at me without saying anything. I hadn’t really expected a heartfelt farewell, but I couldn’t stand the hurt in his eyes or the downward curve of his lips because I put them there.

I hated the way his wrinkled clothes hung on his body because it meant I wasn’t there to fold his laundry.

I hated his empty cart because he didn’t know what he liked to eat or his too-long hair because I hadn’t reminded him to get it cut. His shave that hid his perfectly pretty face.

I wanted to hold his cheeks in my hands and wanted to...nono I don’t want anything.

Our lives had once been separating.

We had lived more than half of them apart. But over the last seven years they had been woven together, they had become one existence, one life.

And now we were tearing everything we’d built to pieces.

We were ripping apart at the seams.

We were plunging forward in opposite directions.

I was losing half of myself.

And I wasn’t sure there was enough of me to make a whole person again.

“Chocolate mint,” he suddenly called after me.

I almost tripped when my head whipped back to look at him. “Wh- what?”

“Ice cream. You like chocolate mint the best.”

I fled the store. I left my cart and groceries behind and I ran for my car.

I broke down as soon as the door closed and I didn’t quit until long after I was locked away safely in my house again.

I did make one stop on the way home, though.

Even though my face was a mess of dripping kohl and big, fat tears, I couldn’t go home until I had picked up a carton of chocolate mint ice cream.

We might be different people now.

But he still knew me better than anyone else.

!!~~~~!!

“Hoseok, what are we doing here?” I put my hand up against an invisible wall and told my feet to stop walking.

They didn’t listen.

Mainly because my best friend had a death grip on my bicep and I was afraid that if I stopped moving, he would rip my arm straight off my body.

“It’s hump day,” he tossed over his shoulder. As if that explained everything.

“No, it’s Wednesday. And we have to work in the morning.” The neon lights over the bar flickered tellingly. They buzzed and blinked, clearly about to burn out. I stared up at them until I saw spots.

Hoseok made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “Noooo, it’s hump day and we deserve a reward for making it to the middle of the week!”

His overly bright tone disguised the raw frustration he felt. It had been a rough couple of weeks for both of us. There must have been something in the drinking water this year because our students were some of the hardest we had ever had to deal with.

I couldn’t do much more than fall face first on my couch after work most days. Grading papers only added to my stress, since most of my students thought they were either comedians or above the rules.

“Fine, let’s reward ourselves someplace else.” I stared at the rickety front door. The screen hung crooked on the hinges and loud music filtered through the murky screen. “Any place else.”

His skeleton grip loosened. “At least it’s not the alcohol you have a problem with.”

“Of course not,” I assured him. “In most every circumstance, I’m pro-alcohol.”

He glanced up at the hot pink sign. “Then what do you have against Pinacle’s?”

“Other than my first date with Taehyung was here? And that he sometimes still plays here? The bar is full of our co-workers.”

He paused, his pointed shoes settling precariously in the gravel lot. “I forgot he used to come here.” he didn’t mention Taehyung’s band because he rarely made it to a show.

Hoseok tried very hard to be a free spirit, but the truth was his family had instilled high standards in him. Taehyung’s lack of a full- time job and real-world aspirations bothered my friend.

Hoseok might not have been pro-divorce, but he certainly didn’t try to talk me out of it. “Are you afraid Taehyung is going to be in there?”

I chewed my bottom lip, struggling with the root of my fear. “Not really, no. It’s more the memory of this place. And our co-workers. I hate our co- workers.”

“Well, obviously. Everybody hates their co-workers.”

I wasn’t sure that was accurate, but it was true for me, so I stayed silent. I shuffled my boots and stared at the chalky gravel debris spread out at my feet.

I wanted to be anywhere but here. But even the pissy people I worked with were better than going home to an empty house and the thoughts tumbling through my head.

“I thought this would be easier,” I admitted.

Hoseok leaned forward until we were just a few inches apart. “You keep saying that, babe. It’s time to change your expectations. Then maybe it will get easier.”

Ignoring the sting of pain, I suppressed a smile because he was right. “Okay.”

“Okay to ‘Hoseok you’re brilliant and I should hire you as my life coach?’ Or okay to the skeezy bar where our middle-aged fellow teachers are currently getting shit-faced enough to karaoke?” he flashed a huge, toothy grin and resumed his bruising grip on my arm so he could tug me into the bar.

“You didn’t say anything about Karaoke!” I choked on the thick musky air that smelled like stale beer and the remnants of burning cigarettes long extinguished.

Smoking in restaurants and bars had been outlawed in Seoul, but places like this would forever hold the memories and lingering scent of when it had been legal.

The screen door slammed behind me and I felt it with a finality that reached my bones.

I was here.

And I was apparently staying.

And if Hoseok even hinted at the idea of Karaoke, I would make him a fake mismatch.com account and set him up on dates with World of Outlaws gamers that still lived in their moms’ basements.

So, help me, god.

When Hoseok and I first started teaching at Dongho, the faculty preferred to let their hair down at an establishment closer to school. An equally desolate dive bar, Ming’s had dollar drinks on Thursdays and STD’s living on the toilet seats. But it caught fire four years ago and the owners had decided to retire instead of rebuild.

Anxious to impress my new friends, I had offered up Pinacle’s as an alternative. Taehyung and I had been coming here since college, Hoseok had been drafted in on non-live music nights and it was only a five-minute drive from school.

Walking in tonight, with Mr. Byul, the art teacher, at the mic screaming out Kill this love, I realized my mistake. If we ever wondered why we had trouble relating to our students… this might be it.

The very reason.

“Let’s get a drink!” Hoseok shouted over Mr. Byul’s shrieking warble. “Please!”

He smiled at me, laughter dancing in his eyes and led the way through the crush of sweaty bodies and rickety tables. The polished wooden bar took up the length of one side of the main room. Two bartenders worked relentlessly to fill pint glasses and mix cocktails.

I breathed a sigh of anticipation and tried not to dwell on how much I was planning to use alcohol as an emotional crutch tonight.

‘It’s Wednesday,’ I reminded myself.

‘I can’t teach with a hangover,’ I lectured.

‘Gimme gimme gimme,’ my brain chanted, ignoring every good and well- intentioned reason to stay sober.

Hoseok leaned over the counter and ordered two whiskey and diets. I could have kissed him when he handed me the sweating tumbler filled with dark liquid.

I took a sip and closed my eyes against the burning coolness as it slid down my throat.

The cheap whiskey went straight to my head. I took another sip and the burn spread from my throat to my limbs, searing through my blood and making my fingers tingle. I opened my eyes and licked my already wet lips.

Sucking in a deep breath, I waded through the tension that knotted in my neck and tied my stomach in tangles.

I wouldn’t really medicate with alcohol, but it was tempting. It was tempting to do anything to get rid of these feelings, these doubts and fears. This pain and self-involved misery.

“He’s watching you,” Hoseok announced in my ear.

I became instantly alert, my eyes scanning the crowd for Taehyung. “Who?”

“Min Yoongi,” he answered happily. “He’s near the stage!”

Min Yoongi.

I shook my head. I wasn’t expecting that.

Or him.

Or for Hoseok to notice.

I found him across the room, sitting at a small table with one of our co-workers. His usually-tamed hair was tousled and wild, his glasses tucked away out of sight.

He didn’t bother to turn away. He kept his dark eyes trained right on me.

Something warm burst to life in my belly. I fidgeted uncomfortably on my low heels and tried not to give myself away.

“Let’s go over there,” Hoseok yelled.

I could hear the smile in his voice, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“God, you’re such a party pooper tonight!”

I tore my gaze from Yoongi’s and met my best friend’s. “He’s hot, Hoseok.”

His smile returned. “I know, right!”

I shook my head. I could feel the fear throw cold water all over the whiskey’s delicious heat. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

His shoulders rose with his deep breath, preparing him for battle. “Don’t do anything with it, Jungkook. Just talk to him. Just be normal.”

“I haven’t admitted another guy’s hot—”

Hoseok frantically waved his hands in front of my face. “And you’re not going to now! I’m not asking you to go tell Yoongi what you think of him. I’m just asking you to have a conversation. I want you to try to relax. I want you to try to be The Jeon Jungkook again.”

“I should go home.”

“You should have another drink and remember what it’s like to be single.”

If anyone else had said that to me, I would have turned around and left. I could be obnoxiously stubborn. Contrary just to be contrary.

But this wasn’t anyone else. This was the person I trusted most in life. This was my friend that only wanted what was best for me.

And I knew I was making too big of a deal out of this. There wasn’t any harm in a conversation. I could talk to Yoongi, just like I did at school the other day.

Just to be sure, I downed my drink and ordered another one. It was one thing to freak out in front of Hoseok.

Min Yoongi didn’t need to see my neurosis.

Er, any more of my neurosis.

We pushed through the crowded tables to the other side of the bar. It seemed like the entire faculty had come out tonight.

Mrs. Patz, the school librarian, had made it on stage to perform a duet with Mr. Chan, the geography teacher. I had never heard Chan Sung quite like that before.

When I finally reached Yoongi’s table, my eyes were wide and a smile danced in the corners of my mouth. It must have been a rough week for all of us.

That was the only explanation I could come up with for all of this…insanity.

This musical insanity.

Yoongi scooted down a chair so I could sit next to him. The gym teacher and assistant football coach, Lee Marc, made room for Hoseok.

Marc was single and young and had a crush on Hoseok. They had been on a date before, but Hoseok claimed lack of chemistry.

I knew the truth. My best friend was scared.

Hoseok was my opposite.

I fell in love on the second date and got married the year after I graduated college. Hoseok refused to let anyone get that close to him.

His defenses were thicker than the Great Wall of China. He let very few people in.

I was one of the lucky ones.

Marc was cool though and he’d always been nice to me. I wished- silently, of course, because I valued not having my hair ripped out- that Hoseok would give him a chance.

Yoongi leaned in with a crooked half-smile. “Hey.”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling wider. “Hey.”

“Did you get your name on the list?” His head tilted toward the stage.

“It was the first thing I did when I walked in.”

His smile widened and straight, white teeth winked at me from behind his full lips.  “Liar,” he teased. “You walked straight to the bar.”

I took a sip of my new drink and felt a blush spread out on both of my cheeks. I blamed the alcohol. “And you didn’t?”

“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “This has been a shit week.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. The cops had been called yesterday after two kids beat the shit out of each other during lunch.

Today someone pulled the fire alarm and interrupted second period. That was on top of all of the other day-to-day drama this year seemed filled with.

“You are not wrong,” I agreed.

We sat silently while new teachers took the stage. The beginning notes to Eddie’s Take me home tonight came on and I took a quick drink to hide my excitement.

Yoongi’s breath brushed over my neck. “I saw that.” His low voice rumbled in my ear.

I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes and asked innocently, “Saw what?”

“You like this song,” he accused.

“Everybody likes this song!” My defense was ruined with laughter. “It’s maybe the most likable song in the history of songs.”

His dark eyes lit up, glittering in the dim lights of the dingy bar. “Did you want to join them? I’m sure we could find you a mic.”

“That tries to keep a man awake at night,” I mouthed to him. “Are you the answer? I shouldn’t wonder.” I held my tumbler to my lips, gripping it dramatically. “When I feel you with my appetite!”

Yoongi’s head tipped back as he laughed out loud. “What will it take to get you to do that on stage?”

“A billion dollars and your first born child.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but it might be worth it.” He leaned closer again and I inhaled his scent. My stomach flipped and a shiver skittered down my back.

“Would you like me to sign that contract with blood? Or will a regular old pen work.”

“Blood bond, if you please.”

I expected something witty and charming, but instead his laughter died, and his expression turned serious. “It’s nice to see you smiling again, Jungkook. It looks good on you.”

My blush turned into a blanket of tomato-red and I wanted to press my ice-cold glass against my cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Is there room?”

My head snapped up and I forced a smile on my face. Our private moment was interrupted by more co-workers. I could feel Hoseok’s glare across the table, but I couldn’t look at him or I would burst into laughter.

Sunkyun and Hyeryu joined our group, dragging chairs with them. Yoongi and I were forced apart so they could squeeze between us.

I took a long drink and braced myself for two of the most annoying people I had ever met. Sunkyun and Hyeryu worked in the office. Hyeryu was the school nurse and Sunkyun worked at the front desk. They were both in their late thirties and the center of the gossip control tower at Dongho.

I had never gotten along with Sunkyun. He had been snide with me from day one and I had no reason to try and get on his good side.

I avoided him as much as I could, especially after I’d overheard him tell Harim that Taehyung left me because I was as frigid in the bedroom as I was in the classroom.

“Sure,” Yoongi answered politely.

I had no idea if he genuinely liked these two or if he was just being polite, but I could barely restrain my claws.

I focused on finishing my second drink and scrolling through my phone to see if I needed to download the Uber app to get home.

“I can’t stand these snitches,” Hoseok grumbled in my ear.

“Me either,” I agreed.

“Where’s your hubby?” The obnoxious voice grated on my nerves until I realized Sunkyun was talking to me. Then it went from grating to stabbing and I wanted to flee.

I looked at Hoseok, he was staring at this Sunkyun’s perfect abs. Min Yoongi was staring at the sparkling liquid in his glass.

At first I felt a little stifling but flinching away from their crude remarks would never going to gain me my place.

So, I lifted my chin scoffing and met his calculating gaze. “Me?” I asked pointlessly.

I tried not to hate Sunkyun just because he had perfect hair and a tiny nose and porcelain skin. Three buttons of his sheer shirt were open attracting attention from many alphas and omegas. He looked like a model. He had perfect chest with eight packs.

I glanced down at my chest and tried not to wince. Abs and muscles were not a legitimate reason to hate someone.

Right?

Sure. Right.

No, he had way worse qualities than perfect looks. His personality was absolutely unforgivable.

“We’re not together anymore,” I answered lamely. “You know that.”

He canted his head at me and laughed. “Do I?”

I cleared my throat and willed a waiter to come over by the sheer power of my desperate need for another drink.

Sunkyun let the awkward silence drag on for a few more painful moments before he cemented his place in hell and said, “That’s too bad, Jungkook. He was a catch.”

“Let’s get more drinks!” Hoseok shouted.

Thank god for best friends.

I stood up so quickly, I almost knocked my chair backward. Hoseok caught it with his panther-like reflexes and then we escaped to the bar.

“Shots!” he shouted at the bartender. “We need shots!”

“Of what?” The bar tender raised his eyebrows at us, amused curiosity dancing in his expression.

“Something strong,” Hoseok threw back.

“Something painful!” I added.

The young bartender’s face lit with laughter. “You got it.” He looked between us and clarified, “Two?”

“Two,” I answered immediately.

I saw Hoseok’s eyes flicker back to the table and there was no way in hell I would let him take shots back to Sunkyun to prove just how pathetic I was. No doubt, he already knew. I didn’t need to advertise this shit.

The bartender poured two tiny glasses of gasoline, I mean, cheap tequila and handed them over.

For a half second, I deliberated asking for a lime, but I couldn’t waste any more time. I picked up the clear liquid and slammed it down, sputtering through the worst of the burn.

“Oh, god,” I groaned.

“I might puke,” Hoseok winced. “I’m not kidding. That was really bad.”

“Another!” I shouted at the bartender.

He looked at me like I was absolutely crazy, the good fun draining away, replaced with concern. I wagged my finger between Hoseok and me and looked at him expectantly.

“Alright,” he mumbled. This time he pulled out something a little smoother and handed us limes to go with them.

Hoseok and I slammed the second set of shots and bit down on our limes to ease the fire.

“I hate them,” Hoseok hissed after we’d acclimated to the new burn of alcohol.

“I hate divorce.”

He laid his hand on my shoulder sympathetically, but there was nothing else to say.

The rest of the night went on like that. Yoongi and Marc came over to talk to us after a while and we laughed over another round of tequila shots.

Worse Karaoke and more gossip continued, but mostly there was relaxing. I avoided Sunkyun and Harim as often as I could and let Yoongi entertain me with his funny stories and witty sarcasm.

I wasn’t used to a people’s focus. And I really wasn’t used to an alpha like Yoongi, a man that paid attention to what I said. A man that paid attention to me.

“It’s late,” I said after blinking at my phone. Marc had convinced Hoseok to dance with him and Yoongi and I had been left alone. I leaned against the sticky bar, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stand very long without its support. “I’m going to be worthless tomorrow.”

Yoongi gave me his half smile, “Do you want a ride home?”

I hadn’t seen him drink anything but water for the last two hours, so I hoped that meant he was sober. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Let me grab Hoseok.”

His gaze moved to the dance floor and when it came back to me, it was unreadable.

But then again, that could have been the booze.

I retrieved my friend from the dance floor. He came willingly, but I could tell I took him from a good time. He was more relaxed than usual and I hated interrupting his comfort.

But we did have to be at school bright and early in the morning and our sanities were still salvageable if we left now.

Yoongi led the way out to his pickup truck. My eyesight was a little blurry, but I couldn’t stop from smiling at the rusted wheel caps and faded paint.

Yoongi’s old Chevy just seemed to fit him in a way I couldn’t explain. It was old, but it was also comfortable and full of character.

He held the door open for us and Hoseok nudged me in first. I tried not to fumble too much as I slid into the middle seat. Hoseok climbed up after me and Yoongi slammed the door shut.

My ears rang in the new silence, damaged from the calamity of the bar. I slumped against the bench seat, the rough fabric scrabbling my back and realized exactly how tired I was.

Yoongi climbed into the driver’s seat, filling the cab with his scent and the light tang of sweat. His warm thigh pressed into mine and I was too tipsy to feel self-conscious.

I let my leg rest against his and felt the heat of his body to the tips of my toes.

That small touch kept me more alert than I should have been with the alcohol swimming in my blood. His touch did all kinds of things to my head, including keeping me silent.

Yoongi and Hoseok talked on the way to his house, but I couldn’t find the courage to open my mouth.

It was stupid.

Completely stupid.

That small connection should mean nothing. I shouldn’t even be worried about Yoongi’s leg pressed against mine.

And yet, it was the most intimate I had ever been with someone else since I met Taehyung. I had never been this forward with another man.

Ever.

I didn’t need to be.

And the entire ride to Hoseok’s apartment I fought a war between excitement and shame. The thrill of my attraction to Yoongi fought seven years of loyalty to my husband.

I didn’t know whether to grin like an idiot or puke.

Finally, we dropped Hoseok off and I broke the contact between us, sliding to the passenger’s side. I gave Yoongi my address with a shaking voice.

I couldn’t look at him anymore. I had crossed some invisible barrier tonight that I had set up myself.

I was too confused and too infused with alcohol to know if the buzzing in my veins was celebration or sorrow. And I was too tired to care.

“I’m sorry for the last time.” I finally spoke, too meekly to even be heard over the slight whirring of the engine.

“It’s ok, Jungkook. How are you though? Are you ok?” He asked and the way he was looking at me, I could feel the heat of his gaze burning on my cheeks.

“I am getting there.”

“I can see that. I had fun hanging out with you tonight,” Yoongi’s low rumble floated in the warm air of the cab.

I didn’t know how to call the elephant in the room. But when Yoongi spoke again, all my worries flew out of the window.

“Tell me?”

This time my smile came easily and I stopped worrying about all of the rules I broke tonight or the consequences of my actions. “I had fun hanging out with you, too.”

I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “You going to be okay to get inside?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

We sat silently until it became a little awkward, until I knew I should move.

I had just touched the handle when Yoongi’s voice stopped me.

“Jungkook?” This time I dragged my gaze to his.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

I smiled slowly. “I might not look this pretty, but yeah, I’ll be there.”

His lips tipped up into a flirtatious smile. “I’m looking forward to it, pretty or not.”

I left his truck with a smile on my face, a smile that didn’t leave until I had let myself into my dark house, a smile that stayed in place until after I’d brushed my teeth and climbed into my bed with Pikachu curled up next to me.

It was then that my smile slowly disappeared…that it turned into a frown as I stared up at the still ceiling fan and spread my body out on a bed, I had shared with my husband in a house we bought together.

I expected to fall asleep quickly, but I tossed and turned until the alcohol wore off and my eyes hurt from unshed tears.

Yoongi was a distraction from the truth of my misery. Yoongi was fun to flirt with and divert my single-minded attention, but he didn’t fix the problems inside me.

He didn’t solve my broken marriage or my heartbreaking divorce. When I finally fell asleep, I thought I had done so sober.

So when I woke up in the morning and found a new text message on my phone, nobody was more surprised than me.

Tae had texted: Me too.

I was confused until I saw the text sent directly before that one…the one sent from me at three in the morning.

This is killing me.

!!~~~~~!!!!~~~~~!!