Jungkook "Loveless marriage"

Jungkook was never supposed to marry you.

Everyone knew that.

From childhood, your twin sister was the one people loved naturally. She was beautiful without trying, confident without effort, warm enough to make every room revolve around her. And you?

You were just there.

The quieter twin.

The forgettable one.

Relatives mixed up your names constantly, but only because they never cared enough to learn the difference. Teachers praised her talents while telling you to “try harder.” Even your own parents compared you to her so often that eventually you stopped seeing yourself as a separate person at all.

“You’ll never shine beside her.”

“She’s special.”

“You should be grateful your sister always includes you.”

And the worst part?

They were right.

Even Jungkook loved her.

Not the harmless kind of love either.

It was obsessive.

Possessive.

The kind of love that consumed a person whole.

Everyone saw it in the way he looked at her — like she was the only soft thing left in his brutal world. He bought her flowers randomly, canceled meetings just to see her smile, memorized every little thing about her without effort.

Meanwhile, he barely noticed you existed.

And still…

you fell in love with him anyway.

Pathetic.

You hated yourself for it.

Hated every jealous thought.

Hated the ache in your chest whenever your sister talked excitedly about her wedding. Hated helping her choose dresses while imagining for one disgusting second what it would feel like if he looked at you that way instead.

But reality never changed.

You were the sister standing beside the bride.

Never the bride herself.

Then the accident happened.

Three days before the wedding.

It was raining heavily that night. Your sister insisted on dragging you with her to pick up the final jewelry fitting for the ceremony. She spent the entire drive talking about Jungkook — laughing, smiling, planning their future while your chest slowly rotted from the inside.

Then headlights appeared.

Blinding.

Fast.

A truck slammed into the passenger side.

Metal twisted violently.

Glass exploded everywhere.

Your sister’s scream was the last thing you heard before darkness swallowed everything.

When you woke up in the hospital, your entire body hurt.

Bruised ribs.

Stitches.

A fractured shoulder.

Blood still dried beneath your fingernails.

But none of it mattered once you heard the words:

“She’s in a coma.”

And suddenly, surviving became the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

Because people looked at you differently after that.

Not relieved.

Not grateful.

Disappointed.

Your mother cried every time she saw your face like your survival itself offended her. Your father couldn’t even look at you properly anymore. Relatives whispered cruel things behind half-covered mouths.

“How tragic…”

“The wrong twin survived.”

And Jungkook?

He became something terrifying after the accident.

The first time he saw you in the hospital, his expression was completely empty.

No concern.

No relief.

Nothing.

His eyes slowly scanned your injuries before looking away in disgust.

And then he asked quietly:

“Why weren’t you the one hurt worse?”

You stopped breathing.

He never apologized for it.

Not once.

After that, he devoted himself entirely to your sister.

Every single day he sat beside her hospital bed holding her hand for hours like a man praying to a god that refused to answer him. Nurses whispered about how he barely slept anymore. Sometimes he stayed overnight beside her, refusing to leave even when doctors forced him to rest.

Meanwhile, you recovered alone.

No one visited your room unless necessary.

No one asked if you were okay.

You started hearing your own family say things like:

“If only she had switched seats…”

And eventually—

the marriage proposal came.

Your parents arranged it behind closed doors like some disgusting business deal.

Not because they cared about you.

But because they didn’t want to lose Jungkook’s family connections after the canceled wedding.

At first, Jungkook exploded.

“I’d rather die.”

Those were his exact words.

“I’m not marrying her.”

But grief destroys people slowly.

And eventually, after months of pressure, emotional exhaustion, and manipulation—

he agreed.

Not because he wanted you.

Because he no longer cared what happened to himself.

The wedding was lifeless.

Cold.

Humiliating.

Jungkook didn’t touch you voluntarily once during the ceremony. Every photo looked like a funeral picture. When people congratulated him, he looked seconds away from walking out entirely.

And your honeymoon?

He spent most of it drunk.

One night he stared at you with bloodshot eyes and muttered:

“You even smell like her sometimes.”

Then he left the room.

That was your marriage.

A prison built from grief and resentment.

One year later, Jungkook still visited your sister every single day before coming home to you like it was some cruel punishment forced onto him. He kept her photos hidden in his office drawer. Still wore the watch she bought him. Still slept on the couch because touching you felt “wrong.”

And when he got angry—

he became vicious.

He mocked the way you talked.

Ignored your existence for days.

Compared you to her constantly without even realizing it.

“She would’ve understood me better.”

“She never cried this much.”

“You’ll never be her.”

Yet despite all that…

you still took care of him.

Cooked his meals.

Waited for him at night.

Cleaned up after his drunken breakdowns.

Loved him quietly while he destroyed you piece by piece.

And tonight marked exactly one year since the marriage neither of you wanted.

Your mother forced you to celebrate it.

“Try harder,” she said coldly. “A husband doesn’t stay loyal unless his wife is useful.”

So you cooked every dish Jungkook liked perfectly.

Decorated the dining table.

Bought a small cake with shaking hands.

A desperate little fantasy pretending your marriage wasn’t already dead.

Then the front door opened.

Jungkook walked in late at night smelling like cigarettes, alcohol, and hospital disinfectant.

His eyes immediately landed on the candles.

The cake.

The food.

And something inside him snapped violently.

“What the fuck is this?”

You froze.

“I-I thought maybe since today is our anniversary—”

“Anniversary?” he repeated like the word disgusted him.

Then he laughed.

Cold.

Cruel.

Insane.

Before suddenly slamming the entire cake onto the floor.

“Celebrate WHAT?!”

His voice thundered through the house.

“The day my life was ruined?!”

You flinched when he grabbed the edge of the table hard enough to shake everything on it violently.

“I should’ve been marrying HER!”

His breathing became ragged with fury.

“She’s rotting unconscious in a fucking hospital bed while everyone expects me to come home and play husband with YOU?!”

Tears burned your eyes instantly.

But he wasn’t done.

“You know what the sickest part is?” he snarled. “Every time I look at your face, I remember that SHE should be here instead.”

Replacement.

Burden.

Mistake.

You had become all three.

Then he stepped closer until you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

His eyes were full of hatred.

Raw.

Unfiltered hatred.

“Why did you survive?”

Your heartbeat stopped.

“You should’ve died that night instead of her.”

The words came out instantly.

Like he had wanted to say them for a very long time.

“She was supposed to become my wife. Not you.”

His jaw clenched violently.

“You surviving destroyed everything.”

Silence crashed over the room.

In that silence no one noticed you had lost your sister too...

Heavy.

Horrifying.

And for the first time since marrying him—

you realized Jungkook didn’t just resent you.

Part of him truly wished you had died instead.