The hotel Grandpa had called us to was nothing short of luxurious. Its vintage-inspired design blended seamlessly with modern elements. The hall was adorned with opulent furniture, and in one corner, a meticulously framed bar displayed an array of drink bottles—shots, burgundy, cabernet, Bordeaux—all neatly organized on shelves and counters.

The chandeliers were breathtaking, their crystal teardrops shimmering under the soft golden light. Glass-topped tables sat atop a marbled mosaic floor, paired with cushioned chairs that promised comfort and elegance. It was undoubtedly a five-star venue, perfect for a special evening.

Taehyung and I sat at the table Grandpa had reserved for us. He was glued to his phone, and I mirrored him, scrolling through my contacts to find Grandpa’s number. Once located, I dialed.

The initial ringing filled my ears, but soon Grandpa’s familiar voice came through.

“Hello, darling. I’m on my way. Almost there,” he said warmly, his voice steady, likely speaking through Bluetooth as he drove.

“Oh, sorry. I was just—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right in front of your eyes soon. Now, hang up.”

“Fine. I miss you. Please come quickly.”

I was about to lower my phone when the sound of a harsh crash pierced through the call.

“Crash! Smash!”

My eyes widened in horror as the noises echoed in my ear.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Are you okay? Answer me!” I shouted, panic gripping my chest.

Silence. Then, a faint crackling sound.

Taehyung, already noticing my alarmed state, looked up from his phone. His brows furrowed in concern as he observed my trembling form.

I tried again. “Grandpa, please. Speak up! What happened?” My voice wavered, tears threatening to spill.

Taehyung gripped my shoulder. “What happened? Why are you—crying?” he asked, his own nerves fraying at my distress.

“This can’t be happening!” I sobbed, clutching my phone tightly. “Tae, tell me this is just a nightmare. Please!”

By now, Taehyung seemed to understand what must have occurred. He pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me as I broke down completely.

“Don’t. Be patient. He’ll be okay,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking my hair.

But his words barely reached me. My tears flowed freely, soaking into his shirt. I clung to his jacket as though it was my only anchor, my cries leaving damp, circular stains on the fabric.

---

“May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.”

The priest’s solemn words echoed through the room. Heads bowed in prayer, palms pressed together, we mourned.

I stood among the women dressed in black hanbok, while Taehyung stood across the room with the men, his figure steady beside Uncle.

My heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of sorrow, regret, and unbearable pain. The tears that spilled from my eyes felt endless, yet they did little to ease the agony.

Grandpa Seokwook lay before us in a rosewood coffin, looking as dignified as ever, even in death. A blood-stained bandage wrapped around his forehead, and his pale, lifeless body was eerily still.

His handsome features remained intact, a haunting reminder of the man who had once pampered me during my moments of despair. Each memory only deepened the ache in my chest.

Was there anything worse than losing the person who had meant the world to me? To know I’d never get to fulfill my promise of introducing Taehyung to him? That thought alone felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

The moments I had dreamed of, of the two most important men in my life meeting and sharing stories, would never come to pass. The loss was immeasurable.

Grandpa Seokwook had claimed the most precious part of my heart, and even in his absence, he would remain my favorite, my irreplaceable treasure.

---

After the procession, we returned home. I hadn’t touched a single morsel of food or a drop of water. My body felt drained, utterly devoid of energy, as though grief had sapped every ounce of strength.

I made my way to my room, collapsing onto my bed. The tears I had tried so hard to suppress came rushing out, unstoppable. Sobs wracked my body, each one a painful reminder of the reality I couldn’t escape.

---

Later that evening, I stirred, forcing my swollen eyes open. Slowly, I pushed myself upright, my body protesting every movement. My hair was a mess, ebony strands curling wildly around my temples.

I glanced at the mirror on my dresser and nearly winced at my reflection.

I looked like a ghost—a living ghost. Dark circles framed my puffy, bloodshot eyes. My lips were dry and cracked, my skin pale and lifeless. My cheekbones seemed more pronounced, as though the grief had carved them deeper into my face.

One day without food, and I already looked like this. Grief truly was a thief of life.

==========

[UNEDITED]
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Love from KimG💜