O I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my ; my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.

Psalm 22:14-15

Sooyoung felt a slight wince as she entered her bedroom. She had not heard her husband come home.

"You scared me." She said with a relieved smile and touched stomach.

"Is everything okay?" she asked cautiously. Minho sat on their marriage bed and looked at the wall with a blank stare.

"I'll call Naeun's tennis coach tomorrow." Puzzled, Sooyoung blinked several times.

"What?" she must have misheard.

"You were right." Only monotone and low sounded the dark voice.

The numbness in Minho's body had not subsided. Not when he had left the cave, not on the drive home, and not now. How long had he been sitting here?

Incessantly he looked at the white wall in front of him.

Colourless. Empty. Nothing.

The tingling in his limbs put every single sense to sleep.

"There is no future in horseback riding."

Sooyoung could no longer feel the ground beneath her feet. She quickly propped herself up on the bed and sat down. Her gaze fixed on the large windows of their bedroom. Her breathing quickened until it became a rapid rise and fall of her shoulders. She couldn't believe it but it had all paid off. Her discipline, her hard work, the talks with her father-in-law.

She thought that Minho would at least rebel over the pregnancy and only realise everything when their second child was born. But now he had understood even in her first trimester. She had won.

"...good." She said softly with a gentle smile. Dimly he could perceive his spouse.

An empty shell was more painless than a monster.

The moon shone brightly in Taemin's room.

Every night he had leafed through the Bible to look for answers, to find help, but nothing. There was nothing left to save him. He was doomed.

With full intent and the knowledge that it was wrong, he had entered into a carnal relationship with a man.

A little he had to laugh at the irony, however the melancholy tasted bitter.

The realisation was stale and dull. He knew, after all, that it had been a task from God all along. So why hadn't he fulfilled it? He knew better.

That night, too, he thought of the black-haired man. His deep brown eyes, again and again he would lose himself in them. He thought of his fingers. How they held a cigarette and caressed him.

He went to his desk, took out some paper and a pen and began to write.

Quietly, he opened the door to his room and looked out into the dark hallway. Silently he went downstairs, put on his shoes and disappeared into the night.

As fast as he could, he ran to the cave.

He must have left him something. Hectically he looked around. Something. Something!

But there was nothing. Everything was the same. Minho had forgotten him. Powerless, he sat down on the old blankets. One tear after another ran down his face as he smelled the faded scent of smoke.

He put his letter on the blankets and walked away.

Taemin could not say how much time had passed. He had not heard from Minho in weeks.

Minho had ultimately chosen his wife. Taemin had shed an infinite number of tears at this realisation.

Night after night he prayed for Minho, Naeun and their happiness. If he had to suffer in order for them to be happy, then that was fine. That Minho had a family and was happy with them made it bearable. He didn't want to think that Minho might be waiting for him in the cave every day, in vain.

Futile.

Since that day, Taesun had not let his younger son out of his sight.

He burdened him with more work, took him with him to all business and private meetings. They had never talked about that fateful day. Taesun didn't need to talk about it. He would make Taemin normal again, Taemin just needed a suitable role model.

Holding the white piece of paper in his hand, Taesun read the words with disgust. He crumpled the letter in his fist and threw it into the trash can.

Minho knew that there would be nothing in the cave for him today either. But he did not want to let the small hope that Taemin had changed his mind die.

Taemin had taken the last letters with him. Again he placed an envelope on the old blankets where they had made love.

He gently the fabric and remembered Taemin's soft skin, his sweet kisses, his seductive scent.

He could understand that Taemin was angry with him, but he had to withdraw Naeun from the riding lessons. He didn't want to enrage Taemin's father further and potentially cause Taemin more trouble. But the fact that Taemin kept taking his letters showed him that his lover had not forgotten him.

But perhaps he should stop. Taemin did not answer him. Maybe Taemin wanted to forget him. Yet with