The Forbidden Pull

Jennie's POV

The words hung in the air, cold and unforgiving. "I saw you." The look on Taehyung's face, the way his jaw had gone slack, the desperate search for an excuse in his eyes – it was all the confirmation Jennie needed. The quiet whispers of suspicion that had been gnawing at her for weeks suddenly coalesced into a sharp, undeniable pain. Her stomach churned. Her hands trembled. But a fierce, cold calm settled over her heart. She wouldn't let him see her crumble. Not yet.

"Don't bother, Taehyung," she repeated, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "At the café today. You and him. The way you looked at him. The way he looked at you." The scene replayed in her mind – she'd been getting coffee across the street, a quick break from a demanding project. And there he was, Taehyung, her boyfriend, leaning across a small table, his eyes locked on a man with an intensity she'd rarely seen him direct at her. The man, Jungkook, reaching across to touch Taehyung's hand – it was a gesture that screamed intimacy, a secret language she was not privy to.

She watched Taehyung's face, seeing the frantic guilt, the sudden defeat. He couldn't deny it. The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the echoes of every unanswered phone call, every vague excuse, every moment he'd been subtly, irrevocably, slipping away.

"Jennie..." Taehyung finally managed, his voice hoarse, a desperate plea. He reached for her, his hand outstretched.

Jennie flinched back, her body recoiling as if from a burn. "Don't touch me." Her voice was a low growl, laced with a bitterness she hadn't known she possessed. The pain was too fresh, too raw. "So, this is him? The 'childhood friend' you've been so busy 'networking' with?" Each word was a lash, stinging him, stinging herself. "How long, Taehyung? How long have you been doing this?"

Taehyung stared at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of shame and despair. "Jennie, it's not... it's not what you think. Not exactly." His words were weak, hollow even to his own ears.

A humorless laugh escaped her lips, brittle and sharp. "Not exactly? What exactly is it, then, Taehyung? Because what I saw was my boyfriend, the man I trust, looking at another man like he was his whole world. And that man touching you like you belonged to him." Tears finally began to stream down her face, hot and furious, blurring her vision. "All those late nights, those sudden 'client dinners,' your phone always buzzing... how could you? How could you do this to us?"

She wasn't screaming. Her voice was dangerously calm, a quiet fury that was far more terrifying than any shout. The perfectly curated life they'd built together, the comfortable routine, the shared future – it all felt like a fragile glass sculpture, now shattered at her feet.

Taehyung finally looked away, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The silence stretched again, thick with the weight of shattered trust. Jennie watched him, her heart twisting with a sickening combination of love and betrayal. She had invested so much, built so much. And for what? For this ghost from his past to waltz back in and tear it all down?

"Get out, Taehyung," she finally said, her voice trembling but firm. "Just... get out. I can't... I can't look at you right now."

The perfect life, the perfect relationship, had disintegrated in a single, agonizing moment, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal and the chilling echo of unspoken truths.