⋆｡‧˚ʚ cher⁷ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

//

part 3

When your eyes finally flutter open, a blur of harsh, sterile white hits your sight. You furrow your brows faintly and a soft whine escapes your lips as the blinding light from the ceiling overhead triggers a sharp ache behind your temples and the slight movement of your fingers sends a jolt through Jeongguk. 

He had been sitting completely hunched over in the chair beside your cot, keeping your hand tightly enclosed in both of his with his forehead pressed heavily against your knuckles like he was praying. "Oh my god..." he mumbles. "You're... you're awake." he breathes out. 

You squint back at him, absolutely disoriented as you try to piece together where you are, why you're hooked up to an IV and why Jeongguk is beside you, holding your hand. 

Catching on to your confusion and the way you try to push your body up, Jeongguk reacts automatically, leaning over you to gently catch your shoulders. 

"Don't move too fast." he murmurs, gently guiding you up into a sitting position and adjusting the stiff hospital pillow behind your back. "You're in the hospital. You... you fainted right outside the cafe."

Your eyes widen, a sudden spike of panic cutting through the residual fog in your brain. The last coherent memory you have is staring blankly out the window with a throbbing headache from the backseat of your car while Mr. Choi navigated the evening traffic towards Jeongguk’s cafe and everything after that is just an empty, terrifying void.

"Where’s... where’s Jun?" you immediately ask. "Don't worry." Jeongguk replies quickly. "He was with Jimin at the cafe and he took him back to my place just now. He's totally taken care of, I promise." he assures you and hearing that, the rigid tension leaves your spine making your shoulders drop in relief. 

Then, your gaze drifts down to the clear tubing of the IV taped securely to the back of your hand. “How long was I out for?” you ask softly, keeping your eyes on the needle. "And… what... what did the doctor say?"

"You've been out for a few hours..." he breathes out, rubbing a hand over his face. "It’s almost 10 o'clock now…. and well, the doctor said your body basically just pulled the emergency brake because of a severe lack of sleep, starvation and an insane amount of stress. He said you're incredibly overworked and your system just couldn't take it anymore." He lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

“Seriously, Y/n... what is going on with you?” he asks, and you recognize that look of frustration and disappointment all too well. You immediately look away from him. “I’m fine.” you say quietly. “I’ve just been working a lot. That’s all.”

"Oh, you're fine?” he scoffs, planting both hands on his hips as he looks down at you. “Y/n, you literally collapsed onto a concrete sidewalk. Unless the sidewalk was looking for a hug, that is not the definition of fine."

You let out a soft sigh and cross your arms over your chest like a petulant child, stubbornly keeping your eyes away from him. 

“And what the hell did the doctor mean by starvation?” he presses, his voice rising slightly. “Are you skipping meals? Are you not eating the food Junhee makes? God, Y/n, I’ve told you a million times, no matter how busy you are, you never, ever skip meals!"

The sheer volume of his scolding finally snaps your patience as you whip your head around to look at him, genuinely offended. “Why are you yelling at me?” you demand, though to your dismay, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the little pout on your lips. 

He closes his eyes for a brief second, pinching the bridge of his nose as he forces a heavy breath out of his lungs to compose himself. “When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” he asks, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

You look away again, but this time your brows furrow in genuine concentration as you track backward through the days, trying to remember and Jeongguk’s lips part in absolute shock. The fact that you have to think about it is a terrifying answer in itself.

“I think… Japan…” you mumble to yourself, still mentally scrolling through your chaotic week. “You came back from Japan four days ago!”  Jeongguk snaps, the sudden roar making you physically flinch against the pillows. “Stop yelling!” you shoot back, shrinking into the bed and sounding entirely like a defensive child. 

“Y/n, are you insane??!?” he breathes out, looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind. "4 days? You haven't had a real meal in 4 days and you're out here running a company? I know you’re a workaholic, but seriously?"

You stare at the genuine worry in his eyes and you wish you could tell him the truth. You wish you could confess that the skipped meals weren’t entirely because of your work. 

You want to tell him that the insomnia and the nightmares are back, that the nights have become a battlefield of exhaustion, and that you’ve resorted back to the sleeping pills again, something you had proudly managed to give up three years into your relationship with him.

You want to tell him how when you’re living on zero sleep and your stomach is constantly knotted with a heavy, hollow anxiety, appetite becomes a foreign concept and food doesn't even cross your mind when you're just trying to survive the day.

But you keep all of that to yourself. 

You swallow the truth down because you have to remind yourself that none of this is Jeongguk’s concern anymore. He doesn't hold the title of the person who gets to fix you.

So, you pull yourself together and scramble for a more plausible excuse. “It’s just... Bomi and Hobi’s wedding is coming up.” you explain, keeping your voice steady though a defensive pout still lingers on your lips from his scolding. “I have to take a few days off because we’re all flying down to Jeju, right? I’m just trying to clear my desk and finish a month's worth of work to make up for it.”

Jeongguk lets out a heavy breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s understandable, but this is still completely messed up. Your health is at stake, Y/n... Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you collapse like that? Imagine if Yejun had seen you. Imagine what that would have done to him.”

At the mention of your son, the last of your defensiveness evaporates. You look down at your hands, genuinely ashamed. Jeongguk watches the way you shrink into yourself and a flicker of guilt crosses his face. He hates scolding you… always has, but he absolutely refuses to stand by and watch you play russian roulette with your own well-being.

“So... how long do I have to stay here?” you ask softly, after a few minutes of silence as you look up at him through your lashes. He holds your gaze for a second longer, the anger completely draining from his expression. ”They're just running some fluids and vitamins through you right now. The nurse said once this IV pack is completely finished, you're free to go home.”

You nod at that as your eyes slowly scan the small cubicle before drifting to your phone that’s placed on the little bedside table and you extend your hand to reach for it. “Then... I guess you should head back. I’ll just call Mr. Ch—”

“No.” Jeongguk cuts you off, his tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. “I’m driving you home.”

You furrow your brows at him, your thumb hovering over the screen. “You literally don't have to do that. What about Yej—”

“I told you, he’s with Jimin, didn't I?” he interrupts you again, stepping closer to the bed. “Don't worry about it. Hyung is staying the night with him, and he’s already got everything under control.” he explains, making you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Jeongguk, that literally isn't required. I’m fine now, okay? I promise I’ll finish this entire IV pack and only leave when the doctor clears me. Mr. Choi can just come back and take me ho—”

“Nope.” he pops the 'p', his stubbornness matching yours beat for beat. “I’m taking you home.”

You groan softly, throwing your head back against the stiff pillows in defeat, but just as your head hits the cushion, your phone vibrates in your hand. A notification from Haeun lights up the screen, your brows furrowing in concentration as you read the preview. 

It’s the compiled minutes from the evening meeting, exactly as you had requested earlier before walking out of the conference room and your big ceo brain immediately tries to switch back on.

Jeongguk catches the shift in your expression instantly and before your thumb can even tap the notification, his large hand flashes forward, snatching the phone right out of your grip.

“Hey!” you protest, looking up at him in utter confusion and reaching for the empty air. “Nope.” he says simply, dropping your phone into his pocket. “Don't even think about it.”

“Jeongguk, give me my phone back.” you say, tilting your head up as you glare at him. “I really need to check that. It was from Haeun.”

“I know.” he chuckles, entirely unbothered by your death stare. “Which is exactly why you won't be checking it.”

“Jeongguk!” you whine. “Stop playing around. I’m serious, that message is crucial, okay? I really need to see the minutes before tomorrow morning.”

“And I’m serious too.” he counters, effortlessly stepping back out of your reaching range. “Doctor’s orders, and more importantly, my orders.” he shrugs. 

“You don’t get to give me orders.” you fight back, pointing at him. “Give it back right now, Jeongguk. I mean it… It’s my personal property, you can't just steal it!”

“I’m not stealing it.” he shakes his head innocently. “I’m holding it in protective custody.” he grins, leaning his hip against the bedside table as he cockily crosses his arms over his cheskt. 

You let out a frustrated groan, slumping back against the pillows and glaring at the pocket where your phone is. “You’re unbelievable…. Give it back. Now.”

“Make me.” he challenges and you clench your jaw. “Fine.” you grit out, throwing off the blanket and shifting your legs towards the edge of the bed. “I’ll just take it back myself.”

“Whoa, whoa, sit down!” Jeongguk instantly moves forward, his hands landing firmly on your shoulders to keep you from moving. “Are you crazy? You’re going to rip the needle right out of your vein!”

“Then give me my phone!” you demand, glaring up at him defiantly.

He looks at you, a little exasperated by your sheer stubbornness, before letting out a small sigh. “You know what…” he breathes out, still holding your shoulders. “How about this? You’ll get to check your phone only under one condition.” he says, making you arch your brows at him as you let out a sharp breath that urges him to just get on with it.

“Once you’re done with this IV pack, I’m driving you home.” he starts, counting the points on his fingers. “Then, I’m going into your kitchen, I’m gonna make you a proper dinner, and I’m gonna sit right there and watch you finish every single bite.” He tilts his head, keeping his expression stern. “Then, and only then, if you’re good, I’ll let you have your phone back.”

You scoff at his words, a dry laugh leaving your throat because you genuinely think he’s joking. There’s no way he’s going to actually hold your device hostage like a strict parent but as the seconds tick by and the stubborn, unyielding expression on his face remains completely stern, you figure out this man really wasn’t going to back down. 

Realizing you don't have the physical energy to actually fight him for it anymore, you let out a defeated whine, throwing your head back. “Fine. God.” you mutter, rolling your eyes away from him and swatting his hand off your shoulder. “You’re an asshole.”

//

You mentally try to shoot laser beams at the man currently occupying your kitchen as he moves effortlessly between the stove and the counter as if he isn’t holding your phone hostage. But despite the fiery indignation surging through your veins, you find your anger losing its grip, entirely derailed by the view. 

God, you've always had a shameful, deeply primal weakness for watching Jeongguk cook.

There’s something inherently intoxicating about the way he looks and acts while he’s cooking and from your vantage point at the kitchen island, your eyes track every single one of his movements. 

He’s rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, putting those thick, corded forearms on full display and every time he grips the handle of the skillet or applies pressure to the cutting board, the muscles shift and flex beneath his skin, making the intricate ink of his sleeve tattoo ripple in a way that makes your mouth go completely dry.

He leans forward slightly to taste something from a spoon and the fabric of his sweatshirt trains perfectly against the broad, solid expanse of his back and for reasons unknown you find yourself crossing your legs tightly. 

A few minutes pass until the fresh aroma of whatever he’s concocting finally hits your nostrils and as curiosity gets the best of you, you find yourself sliding off the stool and padding closer to the stove. “What are you making?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean in slightly to peer into the steaming pan.

God, it already looks incredible. 

Your eyes feast on the crystal-clear broth bubbling gently over tender shredded chicken, ribbons of fresh egg garnish and bright green scallions and your mouth instantly begins to salivate. 

Of course, this was the effect food made by Jeongguk would have on you after 6 long months. 

“Dak gomtang.” he replies with a grin, keeping his focus on the counter as he neatly arranges the tender, seasoned chicken on top of the rice noodles before ladling the steaming broth over the top. "And some cold cucumber salad to wake up your appetite. It’s light, so it won’t shock your stomach."  

Right on cue, as if answering him, your stomach lets out a loud, traitorous grumble because, god, do you only realize just how hungry you actually are.

Jeongguk chuckles softly, glancing sideways at you before gently nudging your hip with his own. “Go sit back down. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Within the next 15 minutes, you’re sitting across the dining table, slurping on the warm broth and true to his word, Jeongguk is actually sitting right beside you, watching you eat and making sure you finish whatever’s in your bowl. He also gently pushes the bowl of cucumber salad closer to your hand every few minutes, nudging the freshest slices toward you. 

Jeongguk had always been a caring husband…. someone who loved through acts of service and protecting you every chance he got. 

He had taken care of you exactly like this whenever you’d fallen sick during your relationship and marriage… the type of husband to brew warm ginger tea before you even had to ask and to stay awake just to press cool washcloths on your forehead. 

But the thing is, he has absolutely no business being like this now because, well… he isn’t your husband anymore.

You try your best to keep your focus strictly on the food and not at the way he’s looking at you… with those dark eyes that still seem to read every single shift in your posture, because god, this unexpected care is undeniably helping your physical health, but it’s absolutely obliterating your heart.

Once you’re done eating and Jeongguk clears the table, you stand right beside him at the sink, refusing to let him out of your sight until he delivers on his end of the bargain. “Okay, give me my phone now.” you demand like a spoilt child, extending your arm and showing him an open palm.

He grins, entirely unfazed by your demanding tone, as he runs the water over the last bowl and places it neatly on the drying rack. He lets out a soft sigh, taking his own sweet time to thoroughly dry his hands on the kitchen towel and only when he’s completely finished does he finally reach into his pocket and pull out your device. “Only 10 minutes.” he warns, holding it just out of your reach for a split second to lock eyes with you. “Then you’re going straight to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” you murmur, barely paying attention to his words as you snatch the phone from his grip with your fingers already flying across the screen, diving straight into the backlog of messages and notifications.

Jeongguk glances up at the time, noting that it’s already a little over midnight. He watches you make your way over to the living room, as you intently scroll through your phone on the couch.

He had promised you ten minutes, but because he knows just how much your mind thrives on being in control, he grants you a little grace period. He leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms, and simply lets fifteen minutes slip by in quiet observation.

God, it almost feels like he’s married again.

This is the first time in months, since the ink dried on the divorce papers, that he’s spending more than a fleeting moment in your presence that doesn’t revolve around Yejun. 

When you fainted outside his cafe earlier, Jeongguk felt his entire world violently ground to a halt. He had always known you were an overworker, but seeing you collapse like that, looking so terrifyingly fragile, pale and unresponsive, he swears he felt a piece of his own soul fracture and die.

While the doctor had been explaining your condition in the ER, all he could do was stand there and wonder how if he was still in your life… truly in it, the way he used to be, he would've never let you get to this point.

He couldn't help but imagine how these past 6 months have really been for you. Sure, he still gets to see you because you guys literally have a child together but that doesn't exactly cut it, now does it?

It's the agonizingly beautiful, mundane fragments of a shared life that he misses the most. 

He’s not there anymore to listen to you vent about your day, he’s not there to hold you close and run his fingers through your hair, he’s not there to make sure you’re not skipping meals or to wrap his arms around your waist while you sleep after a brutal day.

Jeongguk is fully aware that you’re a grown woman. He knows you're brilliant, independent and entirely capable of taking care of yourself but… well, you have your moments. 

You let yourself get entirely carried away, especially when it comes to your work. 

And the truth is, he has always loved taking care of you. It was his love language, after all and right now… he just wishes he could do all those little things for you again because if he’s being completely honest, a part of him doesn't care that the legal documents say you’re no longer together nor does he care about the strict boundaries dictated by a divorce. 

He has absolutely no shame left to hide how deeply and desperately he still loves and cares for you.

From across the room, his eyes continue to trace the delicate lines of your face. You look much better now, the color finally returning to your cheeks and a little bit of your usual fire reigniting your posture. He's just about to softly remind you that it's time for bed, but then his eyes widen slightly when he sees your hands reaching for the laptop bag sitting on the coffee table and he instantly frowns.  

“Hey, hey.” he immediately breaks his stance and starts walking towards you. “I thought I said 10 minutes.”

You don't even look up, your fingers already opening your laptop and hovering over the keyboard. “I just have some stuff to go through, it’ll take two sec—”

“Y/n.” he calls out sternly, making your breath hitch despite yourself as he towers over you. “You just came back from the emergency room. The doctor let you leave on the sole condition that you go home to rest. Not start working again.”

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh, still keeping your eyes on your laptop. “Oh my god, Jeongguk, it’s really not a big deal, okay? I feel perfectly fine now.” you lie smoothly, even though the screen is starting to make your eyes burn but you still continue typing away. “Look, thank you for driving me home… and thank you for cooking dinner, it was amazing. I did everything you wanted. I ate, I took the fluids, I’m fine. Alright? You can leave now.” you try to sound dismissive, to build that cold wall back up between you two, but Jeongguk isn’t having it anymore. 

Before you can even register his movement, he inches closer as his large hand reaches down and snatches the laptop right out of your grip just like he did with your phone back in the hospital. “Jeongguk !!” you groan loudly, your hands flying up in pure exasperation. “That’s enough! Give it bsck right now !!” you yell but he doesn't even flinch at your anger. He sets the laptop down on the coffee table, well out of your reach, and turns back to you with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

Before your brain can process what’s happening, he steps closer, bends down and hooks a thick, tatted arm securely behind the back of your thighs and with a sudden, powerful surge of strength, he lifts you right off the couch, hoisting you effortlessly over his broad shoulder.

“Gguk!!” you yelp, the nickname slipping out of your mouth in pure shock as the world tilts upside down with your stomach pressing hard against the solid muscle of his shoulder. The sudden rush of adrenaline makes your heart batter against your ribs, your hands instinctively coming down to grip the fabric of his sweatshirt for balance.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” you demand, kicking your legs in a desperate bid for freedom but Jeongguk isn’t budging. If anything, your struggling only prompts his massive hand to slide higher up the back of your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin with a grip that utterly locks you in place. “Nope.” he simply says and his deep voice vibrates right against your torso and it sends a wicked shiver straight down your spine. He turns on his heel, adjusting your weight effortlessly as he starts making a direct line for your bedroom. “You had your chance to do this the easy way. Now we’re doing it my way.”

You absolutely, thoroughly hate the effect his words… and his shameless lack of boundaries are having on you right now and more than anything, it’s infuriatingly impossible to ignore the way his body feels against yours. 

Has he been working out more? Because it feels illegal for his shoulder to be this broad and his chest this solid. Why on earth does he suddenly seem so… strong? Or was it simply because you had been starved of his touch for so long that your body was throwing a literal tantrum at the sudden, overwhelming friction? Honestly, you can’t even tell anymore. 

But as you hang over his back, you realize you’re fighting a losing battle. Let alone the fact that you're supposed to be pissed off that he’s treating you like a literal sack of potatoes, you absolutely loathe the way this position is making your blood run blistering hot and your heart beat in a frantic rhythm in two very different places.

“Jeongguk, this isn’t funny, I’m literally dizzy.” you manage to complain, your fists weakly beating against his broad back as you continue squirming in his grip. “Oh, so now you care about being dizzy?” Jeongguk scoffs, completely unfazed by your swatting hands as he continues carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “Your system wouldn’t be throwing a fit over a simple lift if you actually gave a shit about yourself.” 

“You’re being so fucking unreasonable right now.” you whine as your bedroom floor comes into view when he switches on the lights with one arm still wrapped around your thighs. He doesn’t respond to your whining as he pauses right beside the mattress and when you feel him shift his grip, for a terrifying second, you think he’s just going to drop you. 

Instead, he slides you down his front carefully, letting your body drag against his solid frame until your butt lands on the mattress, pushing you back against it. 

Your breath hitches as he hovers over you slightly, both his hands planted on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you beneath him. “Now…” he murmurs, his face just inches away from yours. “Are you going to lay your stubborn ass down under these covers, or do I need to hold you down myself? Because trust me, Y/n, I will.”

You glare up at him, your chest heaving as you desperately try to summon enough spite to break the spell he has over you but when you don’t reply, too hyper-aware of the heavy pressure of his thighs bracketing yours to actually form words, Jeongguk just smirks. “Now, you better go to sleep.” he says. “And don’t even think about getting up again because I’m going to be sitting right outside on the couch, and I won’t hesitate to carry your ass right back in here just like I did now. Clear?”

You want to groan, you want to complain, throw a fit and tell Jeongguk that he doesn't get to boss you around like this but all you can do is lie flat on the mattress and glare up at him as he slowly straightens himself up. He eyes you one last time, his gaze lingering on your face for a brief moment before turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom. 

//

You toss and turn on the mattress, clicking your tongue every now and then as you shift against the sheets. It’s been a good few hours since Jeongguk left you here, and much like most nights, sleep takes its own sweet time finding you.

Truth be told, you are utterly exhausted and now that you were left alone with your thoughts, you feel a heavy wave of guilt washing over you. You feel like absolute shit for making Jeongguk take care of you the way he did today. 

You knew he had an incredibly busy day at the cafe, with the whole coffee truck order thing, and yet he had dropped everything the second you collapsed, just to nurse you back to health while you’d spent the whole evening being a stubborn brat about it.

Letting out a soft, defeated sigh, you finally sit up on the mattress. For the past few hours, a single question has been looping through your mind… Is he actually still outside?

You’ve been dying of curiosity this whole time, but you hadn't possessed the strength, or perhaps the courage, to go and check because you didn't know if you’d be happy to see him or disappointed if he’d actually given up and gone home.

Unable to bear the agony of not knowing anymore, you slide out of bed as your bare feet pad silently towards the door, making sure to cause as little sound as possible against the floorboards. You turn the knob slowly, cracking the door open just enough to peek out into the dark hallway first, before slowly making your way outside.

The penthouse is bathed in the soft silver glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows. As you quietly round the corner into the living room, your breath hitches in your throat.

Jeongguk is sprawled out on your couch, completely knocked out. He’s lying on his back, his head tilted at an awkward angle against the armrest with his mouth slightly open. His tattooed arm has completely slipped off the cushions, his knuckles nearly brushing the floor below. 

Your eyes soften instantly, before you inch closer until you’re standing right beside the couch. You slowly crouch down, sinking to his level until your face is just inches from his. 

You tilt your head, as you look at him and your hand moves before your brain can stop it. Your fingers instinctively come up, hovering in the air before gently pushing away a stray lock of dark hair that was prickling against his closed eyelid. 

He stirs slightly at the touch, letting out a soft sigh that fans across your skin and your heart skips a beat as you freeze but every nerve ending in your body screams at you to lean in further, to press your palm against the warmth of his cheek and to trace the jaw you used to kiss every single night.

But reality catches up to you as your fingers simply hover just a single millimeter above his skin. 

Even after everything, you had upended his entire day and this man was still here to take care of you. The absolute least you can do to repay him is to go back inside and force yourself to rest, instead of disrupting his sleep and lingering over him like a ghost of the life you ruined with your own two hands. 

You quietly stand up, but before you can retreat to your bedroom, you make sure to find a blanket and drape it over his frame. Jeongguk hums softly in his sleep, instinctively burying his chin into the plush warmth and you smile at the sight fondly. 

Once that’s done, you turn away and walk back to your bedroom and slip under the covers, closing your eyes as sleep finally, mercifully claims you.

// 

The morning light breaks aggressively through the living room windows, hitting Jeongguk square in the eyes. He flutters them open with a soft wince when he feels his neck ache from sleeping on a sofa that was definitely not built for sleeping.

He slowly rubs the sleep from his eyes and smacks his lips together as his eyes land on the thick blanket draped over him and a slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips because he already knows who’s job this was. He proceeds to stretch his arms and legs as his joints pop loudly and he stands up, running a hand through his messy bedhead, heading straight for your bedroom to check on you. 

“Y/n?” he murmurs raspily, cracking the door open and peeking in slightly only to see that the bed is empty with the sheets neatly tossed aside and right on cue, the muffled sound of the shower running echoes from the bathroom.

You were already up and showering? 

He closes the door quietly and detours to the hallway bathroom to quickly freshen up. 

20 minutes later, he’s in the kitchen, busy cooking breakfast when the sound of your bedroom door opening makes him look up and he watches you step out of the hallway. You’re fully dressed in a tailored charcoal blazer dress that hits mid-thigh, showing off the dangerous curve of your legs with your hair styled to perfection and your makeup fully done, completely concealing all the exhaustion from the night before. 

As you glide past the kitchen, barely even looking at him, the subtle scent of your signature perfume cuts through the aroma of the food he’s cooking and Jeongguk feels a very sudden, very specific tingle spark to life in the lower half of his body. 

His eyes trace the mesmerizing sway of your hips in that short dress, and it’s honestly embarrassing because he feels like a hormonal teenage boy who just caught sight of his dream girl. 

He has to forcibly clamp down on the sudden, vivid mental images popping up in his head right now and swallow hard, his throat suddenly bone-dry as he aggressively forces his brain to snap back to reality because apart from the fact that you look absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous and that the sheer, mouthwatering sight of you has successfully knocked the wind clean out of his lungs, the rational part of his brain is not remotely pleased. 

“You’re going to work?” he frowns, watching you pause right by the coffee table where your phone and laptop stay untouched since last night. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “Um, yes? And shouldn’t you be going too? Don’t you have that coffee truck order to take care of this morning?”

Jeongguk lets out an exasperated sigh as he switches off the stove and sets the spatula down but just as he takes a step towards you to begin his lecture, your phone rings loudly and your fingers fly to the screen, answering it. “Ah, Haeun. Good morning. Yes, I’m actually just on my way to the—”

You don't get to finish your sentence because for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you feel your phone get snatched right out of your grip but before you can even open your mouth to scream bloody murder, Jeongguk is already pressing the device to his ear. “Haeun-ssi!” he calls out, his voice practically dripping with artificial sunshine as he intentionally turns his back to you.

You stand there, absolutely bewildered with your hands suspended in the air because what ridiculous new stunt was your ex-husband pulling right now?

“Mr. Jeon?” Haeun’s voice carries a flicker of surprise, on the other end of the line. “Hello. Is… everything alright? I was calling to review Ms. Min's morning schedule.”

“Hello, Haeun-ssi! It’s been a while.”Jeongguk chuckles warmly, pacing away from you towards the kitchen counter. “Jeongguk, stop it! Give me my pho—” you try to whisper-yell, as you follow him, reaching over his broad shoulder to grab your phone back, but he simply uses his height to his advantage, shifting the phone to his other ear and stepping out of your reach.

“Right, so, I just wanted to personally give you a heads-up that your boss won’t be coming into the office for the next few days.” he announces casually, making your eyes widen. 

“I beg your pardon?” Haeun responds through the phone. “Is there an emergency, Mr. Jeon?”

“Well, you see, your boss was rushed to the ER last night because she decided to pass out cold on the sidewalk.” he explains and you pause in your tracks, clenching your jaw so hard it aches. This man was really testing the absolute limits of your sanity today.

“What?!” Haeun gasps, and her voice is so loud you almost hear her through the speaker. “Oh my god. I... I had no idea. Is she alright? What happened?”

“Don’t worry, she’s doing much better now.” Jeongguk simply says, keeping all the details under the rug. “She was discharged last night, but she strictly needs to rest… so I’m sure a secretary as competent as you can handle things at the company without her running herself into the ground for a few days, right?” He lets out a sweet chuckle. 

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Without a doubt.” Haeun agrees instantly and hearing your own secretary completely defect to your ex-husband's side makes you let out a low groan. 

You throw your head back, clenching your fists as you stomp away towards the living room couch. You need physical distance, because a few more inches of proximity might actually result in you throwing a very very ugly punch straight into his handsome face.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk continues, watching your furious retreat. “You can contact her only if the building is actively on fire or if it’s an absolute crisis. Otherwise, she’ll just occasionally check emails from bed. I’m sure that works for you, yeah?”

“Of course, Mr. Jeon.” Haeun replies. “Please assure Ms. Min that she doesn’t need to worry about a single thing. I will personally oversee the restructuring of her calendar and make sure that everything is completely taken care of. Please ensure she gets the rest she requires.”

“That’s wonderful, Haeun-ssi.” Jeongguk beams with a victorious smile. “Truly. I always knew you were the most competent employee in that entire building.” He chuckles smoothly, giving you a look that says checkmate.

Once Jeongguk ends the call, you stand there, absolutely seething with your hands clamped tightly onto your hips. “What the fuck was that?” you ask, your voice dangerously low. “What do you think it was?” Jeongguk challenges, arching a brow as he casually leans back against the counter, crossing his arms and you swear that smug look on his face is your last fucking straw.

“Jeongguk, seriously, that’s enough! I get your point, okay? I really do! I’ve been getting your point since last night, but this is just too much!” you scream. “We are not together anymore… so you don't fucking get to do this!” you continue, pointing a trembling finger at him. “This is my company!!” you continue. “I can’t just disappear from my responsibilities because of a single health scare. This happens to anyone who works hard! If I decide to just slack off and hide away in bed, the fallout lands squarely on me because I have thousands of employees depending on me—”

“But Yejun has one mom!” he fires back, cutting you off as his voice echoes through the penthouse. “Yejun has one mom who needs to not pass out on some fucking pavement on a random evening!!”

That single sentence hits you like a physical blow and somehow knocks every single word out of your vocabulary, making you freeze as you just stare at him with your lips parted but completely silent.

Jeongguk lets out a ragged, trembling breath as he slowly steps out of the kitchen, walking towards you and stopping just inches away. “I know work is important to you…” he says softly. “I always have…. and… and I understand it more than anyone… trust me, Y/n, I really do.”

As the words leave him, something twists painfully in his chest because he wants to desperately say everything he failed to say 6 months ago. That he never hated your work, never hated your ambition, never resented the late nights, the endless calls, the impossible schedules.

If anything, he had been proud of you, of the empire you built with your own hands… that he was so fucking proud of the woman who carried impossible pressure and still stood tall, proud even when it hurt him… even when he felt left behind… even when he missed you so fucking much. 

But this wasn’t the time for old regrets… so he swallows all of it.

“Y/n…” he breathes out, his voice softening. “You need a break.” he says as his fingers twitch at his side, fighting the primal urge to reach out, cup your jaw and just pull you close against his chest until you finally stop fighting. “Just think about it…” he says quietly. “If you take a few days off, you’ll… you’ll feel better. You need some rest, Y/n… so that whatever happened yesterday doesn't happen again.” he mutters the last part as he takes the tiniest step closer to you 

“You don’t even have to do it for me, Y/n. Do it for Yejun.” he pleads softly. “I know how much you love him. I know you’ve been an absolute superhero of a mom to him, but wouldn’t it be a million times better if you were healthy, too? Wouldn't it be nice f0r Yejun to have a mom who isn’t constantly running herself on fumes? A mom who isn’t passing out because of starvation and exhaustion?” 

You close your eyes for a brief second, the fight completely draining out of you as you slightly turn your body to the side, breaking the intense eye contact and run a trembling hand through your perfectly styled hair.

You want to so badly tell him that staying away from work won’t fix anything... it won’t heal you, won’t instantly make you feel better. If anything, you think it’ll only drown you further because work is the only thing keeping your head above the water right now. 

You don’t think you can survive just sitting idle inside this massive penthouse, where in the silence, there would be nothing left to distract you from yourself. 

There would be too much room to think… too much room to replay every single thing you ruined with your own hands, the choices you made, the distance you created… the marriage you let fracture piece by piece while convincing yourself you were doing everything for the right reasons.

You love your job… you always have but over the past few months, it stopped being just work. Somewhere along the way, it became a way of coping. The constant calls, meetings, contracts, decisions, flights, numbers… every exhausting demand gave your mind something else to latch onto so it wouldn’t spiral inward. 

If you kept moving, you didn’t have to sit with grief. If you worked until your body physically ached, you didn’t have to feel how empty everything else had become. If you pushed yourself to the point of collapse, then maybe… just maybe, you’d be exhausted enough to steal a few fractured hours of restless sleep without lying awake replaying regrets until sunrise. 

And yet… you can see where Jeongguk’s coming from and deep down, you know he’s right because more than anything, you never want Yejun to see you the way you were yesterday.

You never want his small, bright eyes to witness your body giving out in ways that felt frighteningly unfamiliar even to yourself. You never want him to remember you pale and shaking, too weak to stand on your own, looking less like someone he trusted and more like someone breaking apart in front of him.

And you know Jeongguk thinks this… your fainting, your exhaustion, your unraveling, is because you’ve overworked yourself into the ground and maybe part of it is, but it feels easier to let him believe it’s only that than to explain the whole truth… that this was never just about work. 

So when you finally look back at him, seeing that genuine worry swimming so openly in his eyes, you realize there’s no point fighting anymore.

Your shoulders sag as the anger leaves your body and you exhale softly. “Fine.” 

//

You sit on the leather couch, mindlessly switching through channels on your television… none of them capable of holding your attention for more than a few seconds.

It had been a few hours since Jeongguk finally left to go about his work but before he had reluctantly walked out the door, he hovered over you until you had finished every last bite of the breakfast he had prepared for you. 

Then he’d also spent another 45 minutes in the kitchen prepping a full lunch for you and had carefully packed it away in the fridge, leaving a neatly written sticky note on it detailing the exact microwave time it needed along with a verbal threat that he would know if the container hadn't been moved.

One thing you had to admit, food always easily went down your system whenever it was cooked by Jeongguk and it seemed like that rule still held absolute custody over your body, even after the divorce.

It wasn't for a lack of options. Junhee, the cook you had employed was wonderful and her primary mandate was ensuring Yejun had nutritious, home-cooked meals whenever he stayed over at the penthouse. 

Junhee was a certified culinary artist… her presentation was flawless, her flavors balanced and her execution textbook perfect. But whenever she set a plate down in front of you, your appetite would just… instantly vanish. 

Maybe it was a psychological side effect of everything you were going through or maybe you were just an ungrateful bitch with a broken palate… you honestly didn't know.

On your better days, you would force down a few polite bites to justify her salary, but on most nights, you would just let the meals sit on the marble counter, staring at them blankly until they grew cold. Then, you'd dutifully store them away in the fridge, only to watch them inevitably spoil over the week until you eventually scraped them straight into the trash. It was a wasteful, pathetic cycle but your stomach simply refused to cooperate.

Yet, the moment you tasted Jeongguk’s cooking last night for the first time again in months, it seemed like the stubborn internal strike instantly ended because you didn't just tolerate the food; you actually wanted to keep eating.

It was as if your physical form harbored its own fiercely loyal muscle memory of the years he spent taking care of you, recognizing his specific touch on a cellular level. Your nervous system knew the exact way he chopped vegetables, the specific ratio of garlic he used and the loving warmth that went into everything he made. 

So, the moment that familiarity hit your tongue again, the defensive walls your body built simply crumbled, gladly accepting his food without making you want to throw it all back up.

A selfish part of you can't help but wish he could just keep cooking for you again because you genuinely think Jeongguk’s food alone could probably fix at least fifty percent of your problems but well... you were pretty sure there wasn't a single co-parenting handbook on the market that advocated for using your ex-husband as a premium emotional support chef and you were simply going to have to accept the fact that your private, 3-meals-a-day personal chef privileges had officially expired the exact second you signed the final page of those divorce papers. 

Left to your own devices, you spent the rest of the day attempting to master the art of doing absolutely nothing.

For a woman whose brain normally runs at a million miles an hour, navigating a forced day of rest was pure torture. 

First, you tried to read a book, but your eyes just scanned the same paragraph 4 times while your mind drifted back to whether the emerald-encrusted bridal line should launch first in Paris or Seoul. Then, you tried to meditate, which lasted exactly 3 minutes before you found yourself wondering whether the celebrity ambassador contract had been finalized.

At one point, you actually resorted to organizing your skincare rack by product height, a silly attempt to find some semblance of executive control but eventually, the pointlessness of it all caught up to you. 

Letting out a soft, defeated sigh, you glance at the time, noting that it was a little over six in the evening now and you find yourself wondering if you should just go pick up Yejun from daycare yourself. 

But just as you reach for your phone to call Jeongguk and ask him if he’s already on his way there, the electronic beep of your front door passcode being entered echoes through the foyer and just as the lock clicks open—

“Mamaaaaa!” Yejun comes barreling into the living room, his little feet slapping against the floor as he runs straight for you. The suffocating silence that had been weighing down the penthouse for hours instantly evaporates as you break into the widest, most genuine smile you’ve worn all day. 

Yejun launches his small body into your chestwith a breathless fit of giggles as you gladly open your arms for him and swoop him up, burying your face in his hair before settling him securely on your lap. “Hello, my love.” you coo, pressing a flurry of soft kisses against his chubby cheeks. 

“Mama…” Yejun pulls away instantly, looking at you with wide eyes. “Daddy told me you were sick… what happened, mama?” he asks softly, placing a tiny hand against your cheek. “Does it hurt anywhere, mama? Do you need a band-aid?”

Just then, you look up to see Jeongguk walking into the living room with Yejun’s backpack slung over one of his shou;ders, while his hands carry two heavily overfilled paper bags bursting with fresh groceries.

This is definitely a new sight, considering it has never happened during any of the previous drop-offs and it somehow feels like a massive breach of the unspoken protocol you've both maintained for the past few months.

However, you decide to address it later, turning your focus back to your worried son. “Mama’s completely fine, baby.” you assure him, capturing his tiny hand in yours and pressing a small kiss right into his palm. “I was just a little tired and sick yesterday, but I'm all good now… I promise.” you smile softly as your nails gently brush his soft hair away from his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn't come pick you up at Daddy’s cafe yesterday, bug.”

“This little guy spent the entire car ride giving me a lecture on how he's a big boy now and needs to take care of his mama. He even packed his stethoscope just in case.” Jeongguk finally chuckles, placing the bags of groceries on the marble island. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t mad at you at all. Isn’t that right, Jun?”

Yejun nods vigorously at his father's words, his little bottom lip jutting out in a serious pout. “I'm not mad, Mama. I brought my doctor kit to make you all better!” 

Your heart swells so fiercely it aches as you giggle at your son, pressing one last kiss on his cheek before you stand up with Yejun hoisted onto your hip and his little arms instantly wrap securely around your neck, his warm cheek resting right against your shoulder. 

Holding him tight, you walk towards the kitchen island where Jeongguk is already busy unloading the paper bags. Your eyes scan the counter filled with vegetables, organic meats and containers of seasoning.

“What’s… all this?” you ask softly, the confusion from earlier creeping back into your voice. “Groceries for dinner.” he answers simply, not looking up as he carefully sets down a bunch of fresh scallions. 

“Jeongguk…” you call out gently, making him pause before he turns his head to look at you. “You… you don't have to do this.” you say softly, gesturing faintly to the crowded marble counter. “I can just call Junhee, she can come over and—”

“No.” he cuts you off, turning to fully face you. “I’m gonna cook for you until you go back to work. I need to make sure you’re actually eating and getting all the nutrients you need to recover. I can't just leave and wonder if you're skipping meals again.” he breathes out.“Please, Y/n… just let me do this.” he continues. “Honestly, I’ll feel a million times better knowing I’m the one feeding you right now.” his throat bobs slightly before he exhales. “Just… let me cook and take care of you for a few days.”

It almost sounds like a plea and when you finally look at him… really look at him, your breath hitches because his eyes give him away.

There’s no irritation there, no smugness… just worry.

The kind that looks like he hasn’t quite recovered from watching you collapse. His gaze lingers on you like he’s still checking every inch of your face for signs that you’re still too pale, still too tired, still one bad moment away from crumbling again and somehow that desperation hurts more than anger ever could. 

After the divorce, not once had Jeongguk been bitter towards you… not once had he acted cold, let resentment sharpen his tongue or thrown a single angry glance your way. 

If anything, the distance between you was entirely your own construction with your detached and cold behavior. You had built a fortress out of your own guilt, fully expecting him to fight back. You had braced yourself for his anger, almost begging for his resentment, because if he hated you for what you did, it would at least make the agony of leaving him make sense.

But it seemed like he never did.

And to know that even after everything, even after the way you broke his heart all those months ago, this is how his love… or whatever you think remains of it, still reaches for you… it makes you feel so so so undeserving of it. 

Because how exactly are you supposed to untangle yourself from someone who still looks at you like this? With so much concern, so much worry and so much… care? How are you supposed to convince your heart to stay sensible and stand by your terrible decision when he’s standing there practically begging to care for you like he never stopped wanting to?

“Yes, Mama! Me and Daddy are going to cook for you!!” Yejun suddenly beams, breaking the heavy spell between you as he wiggles excitedly in your arms, making both you and Jeongguk look at him with a fond smile. “Oh really?” you giggle nuzzling his cheek with your nose as Yejun squeals, wrinkling his face and throwing his head back in a fit of breathless giggles.

Soon enough, dinner passes by in a flash with Jeongguk hovering over you and Yejun, making sure both of you finish every single bite he puts on your respective plates. 

You try your best not to grumble at Jeongguk because it’s a little humiliating considering the fact that you… a grown woman is getting subjected to the exact same treatment as your 4 year old son. At least you were actually eating your vegetables, unlike Yejun, who was currently trying to camouflage his broccoli under all the rice.

Eventually, Yejun manages to leverage his ultimate weapon… his massive, pleading puppy eyes to convince both of you for a movie night. Neither you nor Jeongguk had the heart to decline him since it’s been a long, agonizing time since the last movie night with all 3 of you together. 

Finding Nemo is the choice of the evening as all of you curl up on the couch, with Yejun proudly claiming his territory right in the middle while Jeongguk sits beside his son, casually resting his long arm along the top edge of the backrest behind you. Every single time you shift and the top of your head barely grazes his fingers, his knuckles whiten as he fights the overwhelming, muscle-memory urge to just reach down and twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, just the way he used to.

You remain oblivious to his struggle as you listen intently, humming and nodding along as Yejun tries his absolute best to explain every other second of the movie to you. 

Instead of focusing on the screen, Jeongguk has his eyes entirely trained on you as he watches the gentle curve of your lips and the breathless way you giggle at your son’s enthusiastic commentary. 

Every little sound you make sends a violent flutter straight through his chest and he finds himself wishing that the past few months were just a cruel nightmare he could finally wake up from. 

He wants so desperately to believe that the space between the two of you is just an illusion and he prays to whatever universe is listening that this right here, right now, with his family tucked safely within arm's reach under the glow of the television, is what his life is always going to look like.

Yejun doesn't even make it past 30 minutes of the movie as he slumps sideways, falling fast asleep right against your chest with one of his tiny fists fiercely clutching a handful of your loose sweatshirt.

When you look down and notice, you smile softly, lazily patting his head. “I think…I should take him to bed.” you whisper as you begin to slowly shift, carefully bracing your arms to cradle your son without disturbing his heavy slumber but before you can even lean forward to lift him, Jeongguk is already moving. “Don’t worry.” he murmurs, leaning across the couch, his chest brushing slightly against your shoulder as his large hands gently reach out for Yejun. “I’ve got him.”

His knuckles brush against your collarbone for a fraction of a second as he carefully peels Yejun off your body and carries him in his arms. Supporting the little boy's head against his shoulder, Jeongguk carefully makes his way down the hallway towards his son’s bedroom.

When he steps back into the living room, he finds the television already switched off while you stand by the sofa quietly smoothing out the rumpled cushions and when you’re finally done, you turn to face Jeongguk as he purses his lips and slips his hands deep into his front pockets. “So…” he breathes out, awkwardly taking a step closer to you. “Um…” he looks away, his gaze drifting past your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’ve already prepped everything for breakfast tomorrow…” he starts, pointing a thumb towards the refrigerator. “You don’t have to do any actual cooking... I prepped some dakjuk and put it in a glass container right there on the middle shelf. All you have to do in the morning is pop it in the microwave to warm it up… I made sure there’s more than enough for both you and Yejun.” he explains while you nod slowly. 

“And, um…” he continues. “There’s also some side dishes in the small containers on the top shelf.” he adds and you nod again but you can't bring yourself to speak with the aching lump sitting right in the back of your throat. 

You are terribly touched by the fact that even now, after everything, Jeongguk still goes completely all out when it comes to taking care of you and it once again makes a sickening wave of guilt wash over you because you feel so entirely undeserving of receiving this level of meticulous care from someone you’re supposed to call your ex-husband. 

An awkward beat of silence passes while the words thank you just sit right on the tip of your tongue, but you keep your mouth firmly shut because you know with absolute certainty that if you try to speak right now, you might just break down and start crying on the spot. So you just keep looking down at your feet while Jeongguk’s eyes dart around the room before finally settling back on you again. “Will you… I mean, will you be able to drop Yejun off to school tomorrow morning?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or do you want me to come by and—”

“Of course I’ll drop him off.” you cut him off, quickly clearing your throat to swallow down the lump in your throat. “Did you think fainting one time would suddenly make me physically crippled??” You try to joke, letting out a small, awkward chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’m fully capable of handling the school run.”

“Right.” Jeongguk lets out a breathless chuckle, nodding slowly as his shoulders relax a fraction. “That’s great, then.” a small smile touches his lips, but before it can fully form, your phone vibrates in your hand and Jeongguk’s eyebrows immediately arch.

You glance down at your phone, but you don't even need to read the screen to know what he's thinking. You can instinctively feel the stern look overtaking his features because of course he’s judging you… of course he’s wondering which work-related email or notification you're answering past 9pm.

You roll your eyes, scoffing softly as you look up at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not work.” you assure him a little defensively, wanting to prove you’re actually listening to his lectures about overworking. “It’s just a calendar reminder for Bomi’s bridal shower next week.”

“Oh.” his shoulders visibly relax. “Right. That’s… that’s next week.”he nods slowly and there’s another brief silence between you two, before he speaks again. “Actually, that reminds me…” he starts, stepping closer. “Since we’ll both be heading off to Jeju for the wedding, Junghwan hyung said he’s completely up for babysitting Yejun. But…” He pauses, looking at you carefully. “If you’d prefer, I can also just ask my mom to come stay over at your place instead, so that you know… Yejun doesn't have to pack up his things. Whichever option you're more comfortable with.”

Bomi and Hoseok had planned a no-kids wedding, and honestly, it was the ultimate act of mercy for most of their friends. They wanted all their close friends who were currently surviving the toddler trenches to actually enjoy the wedding and the little getaway… to drink the top-shelf vintage wine while it was still cold, to let loose on the dance floor without scanning the room for choking hazards and to remember what it felt like to have a conversation that didn't involve the words "don't put that in your mouth."

And as much as the thought of leaving your son behind for a few days is a little bittersweet, a pragmatic part of you knows it’s definitely more convenient because managing an energetic 4-year-old in a completely different province while both you and Jeongguk are going to be busy in your respective maid of honor/ best man duties would definitely be an impossible task.

“Oh… well, if your brother is free and offered, then I think that should be perfectly fine.” you nod, your voice softening. “Jun loves staying with his uncle anyway.”

“Yeah. He does.” Jeongguk smiles softly. “So… well, that’s settled then.” He nods to himself, burying his hands a little deeper into his pockets, while you copy his gesture with a small nod of your own. “Anyways, guess I’ll see you… tomorrow afternoon, then…” he says and as the words leave his lips, you both finally look into each other’s eyes. “You know, I’ll bring over lunch…” he adds softly and you give him a tight smile, nodding.

//

When you first crossed paths with Bomi, the mere sight of her had been enough to irritate you.

She was everything you weren’t… a walking, breathing ray of midday sunshine who moved through life with an incandescent warmth. She was one of those popular girls who were so unapologetically bright and radiant. 

She’d laugh loudly, entirely without hesitation like a full on head-thrown-back sound that echoed down the hallways and made everyone else want to be in on the joke. She was so hopelessly talkative that she could probably even hold a riveting conversation with a brick wall if she wanted to and to add to the mix, she was also an absolute sweetheart. Everyone from the strictest teachers, who usually handed out detentions like candy, to the toughest seniors, who looked like they chewed glass for breakfast, absolutely adored her while you, on the other hand, were perfectly content being the school’s resident loner.

While you always tried to keep to yourself, it wasn't entirely by choice. Most of the students who came from privileged families avoided you like the plague, treating you like some tragic, walking omen of bad luck just because you came from an orphanage. 

However, as expected, Bomi was the glaring exception because she was the only person who consistently tried to approach you, and ironically, her relentless kindness annoyed you far more than the people who openly avoided you. The harsh rejections from your classmates made sense to you; they fit the cynical worldview you had built to protect yourself. Bomi’s warmth, however, was an anomaly you didn't know how to handle.

Moreover, something that absolutely weirded you out was her bizarre, almost supernatural knack for showing up in the most random situations.

Like that one evening when Heejin, the popular rich girl, had you shoved against the brick wall in the little alleyway behind school, calling you an "unwanted charity case" or that one afternoon when that asshole jock, Wooseok, had stuck his foot out in the crowded cafeteria, sending you crashing to the floor with a tray full of food while the entire room erupted into humiliating laughter. 

You don’t know how she did it, but in situations like these, Bomi would somehow manage to materialize from absolutely out of nowhere. She would boldly butt in, glare at whoever was bothering you, yell at them to get a life and then turn around, drop to her knees and quietly help you. 

Back then, you lacked the ability to understand genuine altruism, so your defensive mind twisted her intentions and instead of feeling grateful, you became convinced that she only helped you out of a deeply insulting sense of pity. You thought she looked at you and probably saw a sad, pathetic stray dog to adopt for a boost to her own conscience. 

But no matter how much you ignored her or glared at her for being annoying or flat-out told her to stop butting into your business, Bomi possessed the stubborn resilience of a golden retriever that had simply decided you were her person. 

So eventually, through sheer persistence, she went from shielding you from the nasty school bullies like a pint-sized bodyguard, to casually dropping her lunch tray onto your isolated cafeteria table as if she’d been invited, to happily waving you over to the seat she’d save for you before every class, to quietly watching in silent fascination as you sketched some pretty cool jewelry pieces on the empty bleacher stands and before long, she was also trailing right behind you all the way back to the rusted gates of the orphanage every single evening as she yapped endlessly about her day, completely unfazed by your silence… because she already knew she had won you over.

You can’t quite pinpoint the exact calendar date or the precise hour the shift happened, but Bomi had successfully thawed your defenses, until you finally found your dim world being lightened by the unyielding golden light of her sun. 

And right now, that very same girl, carrying that exact same brightness, only a little older and marginally more mature (though that part would be highly debatable), stands right beside you, looking absolutely breathtaking in her milk-white lace mini dress with her head tilted back as her sparkly wide eyes stare at the glowing sign of “Le Jardin d’Or”.

“Wait, so let me get this straight…” Bomi breathes out, as she continues staring at the brass lettering. “While I have been genuinely fighting for my life on the phone just to secure a two-person reservation here, you just… casually managed to rent out the whole fucking place?” she gasps, finally snapping her head towards you, her jaw practically on the pavement. “Y/n, do you have any fucking idea how insane this is?” 

You only offer her a deeply satisfied grin in response and right on cue, a sharply dressed host steps forward, bowing as he pulls open the heavy glass doors for the both of you. “Come on.” you murmur, looping your arm through hers and gently guide her over the threshold.

“Le Jardin d’Or” was a legendary french culinary haven owned by Kim Seokjin, the older brother of your dear friend Taehyung. Due to its popular demand and michelin-tier dining experience, securing a single table here was notoriously hard, the kinda place where even a 3-month waiting list was considered a miracle and since Bomi had spent the better part of the year complaining about how she would probably never taste their famous truffle souffle before she died, as her maid of honor you decided to use a little bit of your industry leverage and went all out just for her bridal shower. 

The bride-to-be follows your lead like a child walking into a fairytale, her glittering eyes darting across the velvet booths, the sweeping crystal chandeliers and the soft, ambient glow of the dining room. But the moment she steps past the grand archway and into the main lounge, she’s already gasping. 

Standing around a beautifully decorated long table was a collection of Bomi’s dearest college friends who had flown in from abroad, her favorite childhood cousins, a handful of her closest work colleagues and sitting proudly at the center was her mother and grandmother.

“Oh my god!!” Bomi squeals and without a single second of hesitation, she instantly springs forward, as she throws herself into a flurry of breathless greetings and hugs.

Eventually, the bridal shower is in full swing as the kitchen continuously rolls out course after course of the restaurant’s finest culinary masterpieces, paired with bottles of the most exclusive, vintage wine. One by one, Bomi’s loved ones begin passing around beautifully wrapped packages, showering Bomi with thoughtful tokens of affection for her upcoming new chapter. 

When she’s finally done gushing over each gift as she tearfully thanks everyone, you quietly reach down for the little wrapped box from your purse. “And here’s a little something from me.” you say with a soft smile as Bomi’s face lights up instantly. She takes the box from you, her fingers carefully unwrapping it and the minute she catches a glimpse of the luxurious velvet box underneath the wrapper, she freezes. “No way…” she gasps as her eyes widen at the embossed logo of “Valerra” imprinted dead center on the lid. “Am I actually getting a piece from Valerra for free?” she giggles giddily, her gaze darting to you in disbelief making you roll your eyes playfully.

Knowing your reputation, her friends and family lean in closer, peering curiously as they eagerly wait for Bomi to unveil the treasure inside. You simply keep your eyes on her, as she carefully lifts the lid of the jewelry box. Resting against the dark velvet is a breathtaking, custom diamond necklace that features a central yellow diamond, surrounded by a halo of delicate white diamonds that mimic the gentle, flaring rays of a morning sun. 

“I designed it myself.” you murmur softly and you hope she understands why you chose that specific diamond because you want her to know that she was as bright as the sun and had brightened up your life in ways that no amount of words could ever fully explain. 

A collective, awed gasp ripples through the guests at the dazzling beauty but Bomi doesn't join in on the noise as she just stares down at the glittering sun caught in the velvet box. “This…” she breathes out and you notice the way her eyes turn glossy. “Y/n… this is so beautiful.”

Before you can say anything, she’s already setting the box down on the table and leaning across the little space between you to give you a tight side hug. “Best maid of honor ever.” she mumbles, making you chuckle as you hug her back. 

Soon enough, the evening carries on again as everyone around the table takes turns sharing some pretty fond, embarrassing and nostalgic memories of Bomi accompanied with the occasional clink of wine glasses being raised in a toast while also losing themselves in the incredible food.

“You know…” Bomi begins again, as the lively chatter around the table continues around you. “I just… really want to thank you for this.” she lightly gestures towards the whole gathering you’ve arranged for her. 

“What’s with all the sudden formalities?” you scoff, cutting into your steak frites and taking a slow bite of the perfectly seared meat. “No, Y/n, I mean it.” she insists softly, her hand reaching out to gently touch your forearm. “I know…” she pauses to take a hesitant breath and the sudden shift in her tone makes you pause as your fork hovers mid-air while you turn to look at her. “I know these last few months have been incredibly hard for you…. and I know it couldn’t have been easy to put everything you’ve been going through aside to plan stuff for someone else’s wedding.”

At her words, you slowly purse your lips as the bite of food turns to ash in your mouth and unable to hold her sympathetic gaze, you turn back to your plate, your eyes staring blankly at the steak as you mindlessly trace the edge of the porcelain with your knife.

When Bomi had initially asked you to be her maid of honor… well, technically her “matron” of honor since you were, you know… a married woman and all, it was supposed to be a flawless mirroring of the past because Bomi had stood by your side as your maid of honor and you were meant to return the favor on the happiest day of her life.

At the time, you had been absolutely thrilled and the alignment of the stars felt almost too perfect, especially since your husband, Jeongguk, was set to be the groom’s best man because just like you and Bomi, it seemed like Hoseok and Jeongguk had a lifetime promise of their own as well which basically meant you’d be walking down the aisle hand in hand with the love of your life once again, but this time to celebrate a new beginning for Hoseok and Bomi, while standing firmly in your own happily ever after. 

However, with the recent turn of events, you’re painfully aware that walking down that aisle is going to be anything but sweet and simple and the heaviest part of the burden is the suffocating fact that it’s all your fault. 

Yet, it remains entirely unavoidable since it was almost like a silent truce between you and Jeongguk, because neither of you could even bear the thought of letting your problems cast a shadow over Hobi and Bomi’s perfect day.  

“You’re not just ‘someone else’.” you say quietly, keeping your tone even and Bomi watches you for a moment, her expression softening almost painfully. “I know…” she says gently, inching a little closer in her seat. “But that’s not really what I meant.” she breathes out and you already know where this is going so even before she says another word, your shoulders tense slightly.

“Y/n…” she exhales softly. “Even though you refuse to talk about things properly and keep pretending everything’s fine, I know these past few months have been horrible for you.” 

You don’t react immediately, instead, you lift your wine glass, taking a small sip just to buy yourself a second longer before having to look at her again.

“And don’t even get me started on last week…” she continues. “When Hobi told me you passed out, I swear my heart actually stopped.” Of course she knew. Hoseok probably heard it from Jeongguk within the hour it happened. 

“Bomi, I’m okay,” you insist quickly, finally forcing yourself to look at her properly. “It really wasn’t that serious.” you try your best to assure her, but Bomi just lets out a deep sigh, completely unconvinced. After all, she had called you the very next morning and scolded you for a solid ten minutes and clearly, she wasn't done yet.

“Thankfully.” she mutters under her breath. “Gguk told Hobi it was stress and exhaustion from overworking… but honestly?” she pauses.“I think both of us know it’s more than just work.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the stem of the wine glass in your hand because out of everyone in your life, Bomi has always been the one of the few people who sees through you the fastest.

“He’s been taking care of you though, hasn’t he?” she asks gently after a moment. “Jeongguk.”

You absolutely hate how immediately your heart races at the mere mention of his name but unlike the sharp, suffocating ache that usually accompanied his memory these past few months, this time it doesn't feel painful. It feels… fuzzy and… and warm… and that is somehow infinitely scarier than the pain because pain you can guard against… warmth, however, makes you want to surrender.

It had been about a week since you’d officially stepped back from the relentless, soul-crushing grind, begrudgingly following your ex-husband’s orders to take some time off. Of course, you had secretly broken protocol a couple of times, covertly logging onto brief video conferences with Haeun and your core team to discuss some urgent matters that demanded your final seal of approval but aside from those minor slip ups, you had actually… miraculously, been trying to rest.

Slowly, your body was finally starting to realize that the sky wouldn't fall if you just took a breath instead of always letting work distract you from everything in your head even though the sudden lack of chaos did make you feel a little restless and twitchy at times.

But on the bright side, the forced hiatus gave you some amazing uninterrupted time to spend with Yejun. You spent hours completely operating on his whimsical, 4 year old timeline and you even managed to take him back to the orphanage to visit Ms. Baek again and to also play around with the little friends he’d made there. 

You even allowed yourself a full day of some good old retail therapy, spoiling yourself with a few extravagant things you certainly didn't need. It was a superficial distraction, sure, but there was just something absolutely liberating about splurging on yourself just because you could.

When it came to sleep, it was still the same. You’ve started forcing yourself to sleep through the nightmares, all while still relying on the pills and you’re hoping the problem magically fixes itself. 

Yet, the biggest shift of the week came from a certain someone who refused to leave your orbit.

Jeongguk had been over at your penthouse constantly and thanks to him, your appetite was doing much better because you were actually eating regular, timely meals again. But aside from the physical comfort of having your belly filled, your heart was suffering a much more dangerous consequence since it seemed like it was rapidly losing its ability to differentiate the broken present from the unbroken past.

Being so close to him again, watching him take care of you again, watching Yejun cling to his father’s leg while he was cooking… god, it felt so so so… incredibly good.

Somewhere along the span of just a single week, you could literally feel your heart easily bending the heavy iron bars you had so carefully caged it behind but sadly, the fear that has itself rooted so deeply in you is still very much alive and thriving and you know that if you let yourself fall back into whatever dangerous, fragile hope you've been feeling, you will only end up pulling Jeongguk right back into the vortex of your own instability and worse, a quiet, insecure voice in your head whispers that you aren't even sure if Jeongguk wants to try anymore, or if he's simply acting out of lingering duty and care just because you're the mother of his child. 

Whenever you’d watch Jeongguk over the past few days, you couldn't stop your mind from wondering if somewhere deep down, he still loved you.

Actually, if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you knew he did because his actions were loud enough to prove that. The real, terrifying question wasn't whether the love was still there, but rather if he still loved you enough to ever want you again. Was there still a version of the future in his mind where you were his, or had he simply accepted a reality where you were just a painful chapter he was forced to close?

The question would arrive so naturally it scared you, even when you knew with absolute certainty that you didn't have the right to even let that question form in your head, especially not after everything you’d put him through because by all accounts, you had forfeited the right to his heart the day you walked away.

Still, your heart kept reaching for the possibility anyway… but the moment the thought appeared, your brain would immediately crush it and to save yourself from the agony of a rejection you knew you deserved, your mind would quickly construct a more logical conclusion that his tenderness was merely an extension of his love for Yejun. 

He was simply protecting the mother of his child because any damage done to you would ultimately hurt your son and it was easier to just think that way and force yourself to starve your own heart in the dark than risk pulling the pin on the grenade and ruining everything all over again. 

“Yeah… he has.” you finally reply. “How… has that been going?” Bomi asks as she gently pushes for more and almost instantly a quiet, defeated sigh escapes you as your gaze drops to your lap. “Well… he just comes over to cook and stock the fridge.” you explain, leaning back against the plush velvet of your seat. “You know how he is. Always so caring, always doing too much. He has this instinct to… look after people, even when…” your voice trails off, the words “even when he shouldn’t” catching in your throat.

“Do you…” Bomi starts again as you turn your head to look at her. “Do you… I don’t know, by any chance, see you guys trying again?”

Your breath hitches at her question because the truth is… you do see it. 

You’ve already envisioned a million different versions of that exact future. You see the beautiful, intoxicating warmth of trying again but you also see the inevitable aftermath: you see Jeongguk getting exhausted all over again, you see the heavy toll your instability takes on his bright soul, you see the exact moment the light dies in his eyes and you see the way he looks at you with that crushing despair… like you’re the hardest, most draining thing to love in this world. 

You see yourself ruining him twice, and that’s a reality you just can’t survive.

But before an answer even leaves you, Nayeon, one of Bomi’s cousins, is yelling for her from the other end of the table as she holds up her phone. “Bomi!! I’ve got Mina on video call! She’s devastated she couldn’t make it today and wants to see you !!” she explains, referring to the cousin who couldn’t make it to the shower. 

Bomi blinks, momentarily caught off guard before looking at you apologetically but you just offer her a small, urgent nod, silently begging her to go and once she slides out of her seat and walks over to Nayeon, you let out a trembling breath, deeply thankful for the sudden distraction because just as much as you love Bomi, you hate how transparent you become in front of her. 

//

“Jeongguk-ah, seriously! What kind of psychopath carries 6 shockwave grenades into the final circle?” Hoseok groans dramatically, tossing his controller onto the couch behind as his character’s elimination screen flashes brightly across the television. “Nobody plays fortnite like this. You’re supposed to shoot people, not like… fucking launch them into another zip code!”

“That just sounds like a skill issue, hyung.” Jeongguk simply shrugs with a cocky ass grin from his spot on the floor. “Skill issue my ass.” Hoseok mutters, glaring at the screen as a laugh escapes Namjoon from the couch as he leans forward to steal another slice of the pepperoni pizza from the messy coffee table scattered with empty soda cans, greasy pizza boxes and half-opened bags of chips.

“Damn.” he chuckles, taking a bite. “I didn’t know you took fortnite this personally, Hobi.” he jokes, making Hoseok only huff louder. 

Since Bomi’s bridal shower had effectively monopolized the entire Sunday evening, Hoseok didn’t exactly want to spend the entire time just sitting around and missing his fiancée and immediately suggested an impromptu game night with the guys.  

Jeongguk had offered his apartment as headquarters almost instantly, mostly because Yejun was staying over for the night anyway since you were out at the bridal shower too.  

Before Jeongguk can add more fuel to Hobi’s fire, he spots Jimin quietly emerging from Yejun’s bedroom, carefully pulling the door shut behind him. “Jesus Christ, Hobi hyung…” he exhales the second he steps into the living room, glaring at the man currently sitting cross-legged, looking mad as hell on the floor. “You need to lower your volume.”

“I’m literally speaking.” Hoseok looks up in disbelief. “There’s a 4 year old trying to sleep like… 10 feet away and whatever noise you’ve been making definitely wasn’t helping!” Jimin shoots back making Namjoon snort into his soda can. 

“Seriously…” Jimin continues. “If Jun wakes up thinking there’s a wild animal loose in the apartment, I’m blaming you.” he narrows his eyes at Hobi who merely scoffs before reaching for his controller again. “Traitors…. all of you.” he mumbles 

“Thanks for putting him down, hyung.” Jeongguk smiles, watching Jimin make his way over to the couch and plopping himself down right beside Namjoon. “Oh, please.” Jimin says immediately, placing a hand over his chest. “The pleasure was entirely mine.” his eyes crinkle into little crescents as he smiles. “It’s not every day Junnie specifically requests his Uncle Chim for bedtime story duty.” he says fondly. “I had to bring my A-game, you know because damn Gguk your son has standards…. I had to give him like 13 different character voices.” Jimin says, making Jeongguk laugh. 

“We’re officially out of fuel.” Hoseok suddenly points out, peering into the empty pizza box. “Let me order another round. Who wants what?” he asks, already unlocking his phone. As both Namjoon and Jimin rattle off their choices, Jeongguk glances at time noting that It’s a little over 9:00 p.m. now, and his mind automatically wonders how the bridal shower is going… or more specifically, how it’s going for you.

He wonders if you’re eating well and enjoying the food, if you’re genuinely having fun and the mere thought of that coaxes a soft, subconscious grin on his lips. He even wonders if you cried, because he knows how deeply sentimental these pre-wedding events can get, and despite the fierce, stoic armor you always try to wear, he knows exactly how tender your heart truly is especially when it comes to your loved ones. 

Eventually, the game night carries on as more pizza deliveries come by and right now Jeongguk effortlessly obliterates Jimin’s character on the screen. However, he gets distracted when Hoseok suddenly plays a video on his phone at full volume from the couch right behind him.

“What’s that?” he casually asks, glancing over his shoulder and instantly notices the way Hobi stares down at his screen with a hopelessly fond, foolish smile. “Nothing…” he giggles giddily, his eyes practically turning into hearts. “Bomi’s just drunk out of her mind and having the time of her life. She’s sending me all these ridiculously cute videos of herself.”

“Geez, look at you cheesing all by yourself.” Jimin comments with a grin as he briefly glances at Hoseok before returning his hyper-focus back on the screen and instantly seizing the golden opportunity of Jeongguk’s distraction to aggressively fight back and steal the lead. As Namjoon joins in on the teasing, laughing at Hoseok’s total lack of defense against his fiancée, Jeongguk’s mind suddenly wonders if you’re drunk too and before he can stop himself his mind is already spiraling. 

Will you be able to get home safely? Are you even sober enough to call your driver? He wonders if whatever dress you’re wearing is warm enough and if you even remembered to bring a coat but… knowing you, you probably didn’t. God… are you going to be okay?

“Alright, I think I’m gonna head out for the night.” Hoseok announces, standing up as he glances at the time. “I’m thinking I should just drive over and pick Bomi up, and maybe drop off her mom and grandma too. It’s getting pretty late and I really don't want them dealing with cabs or drivers this time of night.”

Jimin and Namjoon nod in understanding, entirely approving of the chivalry and watch as Hoseok grabs his jacket from where it’s thrown over the armrest and starts moving towards the front door. 

“Wait, I’m coming too.” Jeongguk says quickly, standing up before he even fully processes his own impulse and it makes everyone in the room pause and look at him. Sensing the confused silence, Jeongguk just shrugs. “What?” he says, grabbing his keys off the counter. “I’m gonna go pick up Y/n.”

He doesn't wait for them to dissect his answer as he looks over at Jimin. “Hyung, you’re staying over tonight anyway, right? Just make sure to watch over Junnie.” he says as Jimin quickly nods before exchanging a brief look with the other two and they all know Jeongguk far too well to question anything so Hoseok simply opens the door, waiting for him to catch up.

//

“Y/nnnnn… you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide worllddd.” Bomi slurs happily as she clumsily drapes a warm arm over your shoulder. You offer a breathless laugh, planting your feet firmly on the cool pavement just outside the restaurant as you hold onto her. 

One by one, Bomi’s cousins and friends begin to spill out onto the sidewalk, bidding loud goodbyes. Some lean heavily against the brick walls as they squint down at their phones trying to track their designated drivers, while others wave their arms to hail passing cabs.

Right behind you, Bomi’s mother, grandmother and two of her cousins hustle out onto the pavement, trying their absolute best to divide their attention between balancing a mountain of glossy gift bags and keeping a watchful eye on Bomi's swaying form. “Oh, sweetheart, let me help you with her.” Bomi’s mom says softly, adjusting a few bags in one arm while gently gripping Bomi’s waist to take some of the weight off you. “Hoseok called just a few minutes ago. He said he’s on his way to pick us up because he didn't want us trying to find a cab this late.” she says. 

Son-in-law of the year you think to yourself as a hazy smile tugs at your lips but before you can nod at her, a sudden wave of dizziness hits you, and you’re sharply reminded that you’re pretty damn drunk yourself. 

Still, you pull your shoulders back, trying your absolute best to act completely sober and play the responsible best friend. “Bomi, careful. You’re gonna trip.” you click your tongue softly and right on cue, Bomi squirms in your grip to wave at her friends who leave in a passing car and your own high heels wobble precariously against the uneven concrete. 

You catch your breath, locking your knees and tightening your hold on her waist, praying your ankles hold up for just a few more minutes until Hoseok’s car pulls up to the curb.

Barely 5 minutes pass before you see a familiar car pulling up and Bomi’s mother waves instantly, recognizing the vehicle, but before you can even begin to form a smile to greet Hoseok, another car pulls up right behind his and you squint your eyes because… hold on… is that..? 

You blink a few times, wondering if the many glasses of wine and champagne were actually playing tricks on your eyes, forcing you to see things that shouldn't be here because there’s just… absolutely no way.

But before you can even refocus your hazy vision, the door swings open and Jeongguk is already stepping out of his car.  

The sudden sight of him sends a jolt through your system as your grip instinctively tightens around Bomi, who is still very much dead weight and entirely drunk against your side.

You can only stare, completely paralyzed, as he walks in your direction and you’re just so caught up in the gravity of his gaze that you barely even realize the physical weight being lifted off of you, your hands slipping away as Hoseok gently and carefully peels a rambling Bomi from your arms, murmuring sweet, soft words to his fiancée.

“Y/nnnnnn! This man is trying to kidnap meeeee.” Bomi slurs, her loud voice snapping you back to reality as Hoseok lets out a helpless laugh, completely enamored by how adorable she is. 

You quickly look away, blinking rapidly to clear the lingering haze from your mind as Jeongguk finally stops right in front of you. You offer a tight smile to Hoseok, before turning your attention to Bomi’s mother and grandmother. “Please get home safely.” you say softly, bowing respectfully to them and they both step in close to wrap you in a warm hug, murmuring their thanks and telling you to rest well.

“Make sure she takes her hangover medicine… she’s gonna hate herself in the morning.” you chuckle softly as you pull away from them, directing your words to Hoseok, who is currently undergoing a full interrogation from his fiancée as he tries to convince her that he is, in fact, her future husband and not a random stranger trying to abduct her.

As the group finally starts to move towards Hoseok's car, you slowly turn towards Jeongguk and the sudden quiet between you makes your pulse spike.

“What… are you doing here?” you ask softly. “What do you think?” Jeongguk counters smoothly, looking down at you and you hate the way the arch of his brow and the tilt of his head makes your heart skip a beat. 

Before you can even begin to formulate a defensive reply, a sharp gust of the night breeze sweeps past your exposed arms and neckline, making you shudder and Jeongguk’s quick to notice it. He doesn’t hesitate even for a fraction of a second as he slides his jacket off and drapes it over your shouldrrs. 

“I’m here to pick you up.” he mutters, his hands gently pulling the lapels together to shield you from the cold. “You know I could’ve just called Mr. Choi,” you say, your voice softening as you look up at him. Jeongguk doesn't answer right away as his hands find the hair behind your nape that’s trapped beneath the fabric of his jacket and carefully coaxes the locks free as he gently smoothes the silk of your hair down your back.  

“Well, now you don’t have to,” he replies as he finally looks into your eyes. “Come on.” he says, stepping back to lead the way towards his car. 

You gulp before taking your first step and feel your feet wobble slightly as your ankles ache with a dull, throbbing pain when you feel the sharp, stinging burn of a fresh shoe bite. 

Fuck, wearing these new heels tonight was definitely a bad idea. 

Still, you stubbornly swallow the wince and instinctively clutch the long fabric of your dress, lifting it slightly at your knee to keep yourself from tripping and begin to follow Jeongguk. “Where’s Jun?” you ask as you reach the passenger side and Jeongguk is already there, pulling the door open for you. “Knocked out at home. Jimin hyung’s staying over.” he answers as he shields the top of the doorframe with his hand and waits patiently for you to settle in. Once you’re seated, he pushes the door close and rounds the hood of the car to get into the driver’s seat. 

The drive back to your penthouse is silent as you keep your eyes glued outside the window with your fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the zipper of Jeongguk’s jacket.

From the driver's seat, Jeongguk keeps stealing quiet glances at you, noticing the soft flush still painting your cheeks, a clear giveaway that the wine and champagne were still humming sweetly through your veins.

God, he has to admit, it’s taking everything in him to just keep his hands steady on the steering wheel right now, because you look so fucking gorgeous even when his jacket’s covering you. 

Back on the sidewalk, when he was walking towards you from his car, he’d had to consciously force himself to breathe. His entire system had short-circuited the moment his eyes landed on you standing there holding Bomi, wearing that stunning dress with the midnight-black silk draped over your silhouette, pooling elegantly around your feet, but it was that deep, plunging halter neckline that had made his breath completely catch in his throat.

He had tried his absolute best to be a gentleman, to behave and keep his gaze locked strictly on your eyes, but it was a losing battle because his eyes had helplessly traced the daring dip of the halter neck and the delicate lace detailing that wrapped around your waist, hugging your curves just right. 

In just that short walk towards you, he had already imagined tracing his fingers along the edge of that neckline with his fingers and lips but he quickly had to swallow that hunger down and force a mask of calm over his face. 

When the car finally glides to a halt inside your penthouse garage, you open the door and step out but the moment you put your full weight down, a sharp hiss escapes your lips because the friction of the movement makes the raw shoe bite on your heel burn like pure fire.

Jeongguk steps out of the driver's side just in time to catch the sour expression on your face and his eyes immediately drop, tracking the way you shift your weight and look down at your feet. He clicks his tongue, a soft sound of gentle exasperation. “Come here.” he says simply, closing the distance between you in two long strides and before you can even begin to protest, his hands are already moving. 

He slides the Chanel purse out of your hands and casually slings the gold chain strap over his own shoulder without a second thought. Then, bending down, he slides one arm beneath your knees, careful of the long silk skirt of your dress, and the other securely behind your back, lifting you up into his arms.

“Gguk, oh my god!” you squeak, the sudden loss of gravity catching you completely off guard as your arms instinctively fly up, wrapping tightly around his neck to steady yourself. 

Without saying a single word to justify himself, Jeongguk just shifts your weight comfortably against his chest and begins walking towards the private elevator. “I told you to tape the back of your new heels before using them to prevent shoe bites.” he says as he presses the elevator button with his elbow. 

You let out a quiet, defensive huff, but you can't actually argue. The elevator doors slide open and he steps inside, still holding you up effortlessly in bridal style. 

Once he makes it into the penthouse, only then does he carefully lower your feet to the floor, but before you can even attempt to take a single step, he’s already crouching down as his nimble fingers gently peel the heels off your feet. “Go take a seat.” he says simply, gesturing towards the living room before disappearing down the hallway as if he still lives here.

Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system or the fact that you’re actually quite exhausted, you find yourself silently obeying him as you pad over to the couch, and the minute you sink down into the plush cushions, you release a long breath of pure relief and lean your head back against the sofa.

Within a few minutes, Jeongguk returns, carrying a glass of cold water in one hand and a small first-aid kit in the other. 

He hands you the glass of water first and just as you take a sip, your eyes widen slightly over the rim when he drops to his knees on the floor directly in front of you. Without asking for permission, his hand reaches for your foot and places it on his thigh. 

“Gguk—” you try to move your feet but he holds it still before using a swab to dab some cooling antiseptic over the shoe bite. You wince slightly at the initial sting, your fingers instinctively gripping the silk of your dress, but Jeongguk immediately blows a breath of cool air over the wound to soothe the burn, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the sensitive skin near your ankle to distract you.

Once the sting fades, he unscrews the ointment and scoops a small amount onto his fingertip and carefully applies it over the little wound. 

Your breath hitches as you look down at him, tending so carefully to a wound so small and god… this is so so soooo not good for your heart because the shoe bite itself is barely anything… a few days and it would’ve healed on its own. Yet here he is, crouched in front of you, treating it with the same care he would for something far more serious.

Suddenly you become way too aware of his presence as the intoxicating scent of his cologne wraps around you, making your head spin faster than the alcohol ever could. 

You suddenly have the overwhelming urge to forget everything…. the walls, the fear, the divorce, the months spent pretending you didn't miss him and for one reckless second, all you want to do is just… reach for him.

You want to slide off the couch, throw yourself onto him, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss the heck out of him and maybe even shake some sense into him while you're at it.

Because why on earth is he still like this? Why is he so kind and so nice and so gentle and so stupid? Why does he show up every single time? Why can’t he just look the other way for once? Why can’t he at least pretend to hate you? 

The thoughts in your head suddenly become too loud, forcing you back to reality. “That’s… that’s enough.” you break the moment, your voice coming out breathless and strained as you quickly pull your foot off his thigh. 

Jeongguk’s hands freeze mid-air, his eyes instantly snapping up to yours. “Wait… what about your other leg?” he asks, looking up at you. “I’ll apply it myself.” you say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush and before he can protest or reach for you again, you lean forward and snatch the ointment right out of his hand and hastily gather the rest of the first-aid kit from the floor. 

“I’ll go change.” you manage to say and without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and practically flee towards the safety of your bedroom. 

Jeongguk sighs as he watches you disappear down the hallway. He stays on his knees for a beat longer, staring at the empty space on his thigh where your foot had just been, before shaking his head and pushing himself up. He stands up straight, but just as he bends down to dust off his knees he notices the pack of hydrocolloid bandages on the floor and he realises they must have slipped out of the first-aid kit when you hastily picked it up.  

Knowing that the raw, angry blister on your heel will desperately need the protection, he picks it up and makes his way towards the room you just disappeared into. “Y/n?” he calls out softly, pushing the bedroom door open a fraction and he instantly hears a faint rustle of fabric coming from your walk-in closet. “You left the—” but the words die in his throat as Jeongguk freezes a few steps into the room, his eyes squinting at the small amber bottle resting on the edge of your nightstand. 

He steps closer, momentarily forgetting all about the bandages in his hand, as he reaches out and carefully picks up the little bottle and when he reads the label, he feels his breath hitch. 

You were taking sleeping pills again.

Suddenly, the terrifying truth floods his mind and all the disconnected dots frantically connect in Jeongguk’s head.

You passing out on the sidewalk, the hollow exhaustion pulling at the corners of your eyes, all the skipped meals and your sudden lack of appetite… it… it wasn’t just about work. 

If you had resorted to relying on a substance he so vividly, painfully remembers you struggling to give up years ago… a dark chapter he had personally held you through, then this was something infinitely more serious.

Was the crippling insomnia back, leaving you staring at the ceiling for hours in the suffocating dark? Were you having the same old nightmares again? Were you waking up gasping for air, having panic attacks all alone in the middle of the night with no one to hold you until your heart slowed down? 

“What are you doing?” his train of thoughts are abruptly cut off and before he can even blink, the little bottle is violently snatched from his grip and Jeongguk whips his head to the side as his wide eyes collide with yours. 

You’ve only just taken off his jacket while you’re still wrapped in that criminal dress, but Jeongguk doesn’t even notice because all he can see is the pure anger in your eyes. 

“You’re… you’re taking sleeping pills again?” he questions, his voice cracking slightly and your jaw clenches so hard, a muscle jumps under your skin as you look away. “You need to leave. It’s late.” you deadpan and turn to walk away as you bury the bottle deep in your fist but in a flash, Jeongguk stops you before you can slip away, his large hand wrapping around your elbow as he pulls you back to face him. “Y/n, look at me. Are the nightmares back again? Is that why you haven’t been getting much sleep? Why didn’t you tell me—”

“Well, why the hell should I tell you about anything?!” you snap, violently yanking your arm out of his grasp. “What exactly are you going to do about it, Jeongguk? Huh? Are you going to crawl into my bed and hold me to sleep?” your chest heaves as you glare at him. “Seriously, Jeongguk, when the hell are you going to stop butting into my life and just mind your own goddamn business?!”

Jeongguk’s lips part in absolute disbelief as the sheer malice in your tone makes the color drain entirely from his face. “Y/n, this is my busines—”

“No, it’s NOT!” you roar, cutting him off before he can even breathe out the sentence. “Me fainting, me skipping meals, me overworking myself until my body breaks down or me swallowing a handful of pills just to get two hours of peace… none of that shit is your business anymore!” you say it fiercely even as you feel the burning, stinging sensation of tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “Do I have to remind you that we are literally not together anymore?!”

“So what, now I’m just supposed to stop caring about you????” Jeongguk finally snaps back as he steps closer, completely towering over you with his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m just supposed to not give a fuck anymore??? Is that what you’re sayin—”

“Well, YES!!” you yell, the words tearing raw from your throat and deep down, you know you’re being incredibly cruel and irrational right now, but you just can’t help it anymore. He’s getting too close again… pulling you back into his gravity… back into that warm, beautifully hazardous orbit where it’s just so easy to let him save you, and you absolutely can’t let it happen. 

You can’t let it happen to yourself, and more importantly, you can’t let it happen to him and right now, as you stare at him with rage in your eyes, all you can think about is how you have to push him away, even if you have to burn the bridge while you're both standing right on top of it.

“That is exactly what you're supposed to do!” you hiss, stepping closer until your chest is practically brushing his. “You literally do not have to care about anything that happens to me anymore… so stop trying to take care of me all the time and just leave me alone!!”

“Y/n, you’re the mother of my child!” Jeongguk fights back, raw agony vibrating through his shattering voice as his face twists in pure pain. “Of course I am always going to care!! Do you think it’s just easy to stop caring about you after everything we’ve been through??! Does that even make sense to you???”

“Well, it’s too much!!” you snap, shoving your hands against his solid chest to push him away, though he barely even budges an inch. “You can’t keep doing this, Jeongguk!! You can’t keep barging into my life and treating me like I’m still yours to save! You need to leave me the hell alone!!” you close your eyes tightly, absolutely frustrated. 

“Well, if the roles were reversed, would you???” he suddenly questions as your glossy eyes fly open, completely caught off guard by the raw vulnerability bleeding through his anger. “Tell me.” he demands. “If I was the one going through something like this… if… if I was the one suffering… would you honestly just sit back and not care about me? Would you really just… leave me alone?”

The question hits you like a physical blow because somehow even the fleeting thought of Jeongguk going through a fraction of the hell you’re enduring, makes your entire world fracture into a million bleeding pieces and you know, with absolute certainty, that you would gladly tear your own heart out or burn the entire world to the ground just to fix things for him. You would give up your own sanity just to ensure he never felt a single second of this darkness.

But how could you ever dare to say any of that aloud when the brutal truth is that he is already suffering and you’re the sole reason behind it. So, from where you’re standing, the only mercy left is to sever the tie completely… to save him from yourself, the only solution is to push him away farther and farther, ensuring he never looks back.

“Yes.” you breathe out, forcing yourself to become the villain he needs to see. You look him dead in the eye, burying the desperate love screaming inside you, beneath a mask of absolute ice. “I would.”

Jeongguk freezes, his entire body going completely rigid and you can practically hear the sound of his heart dropping into the lowest, hollowest pit of his stomach as he stares at you. “You… you don’t mean that.” he gulps, his throat bobbing heavily. 

“I do.” you say, looking away for a brief, cowardly second because you know if you stare into his breaking eyes for a moment longer, your mask will completely melt. You swallow the suffocating lump in your throat and force the cruelest words you’ve ever spoken out of your mouth. “I would not care because like I said… we’re not together anymore. Whatever happens to you, it’s none of my goddamn business.”

Jeongguk clutches his lower lip between his teeth as a bitter broken laugh escapes his chest. “How… how can you say that to me?” he asks hoarsely, his voice cracking violently on the last word. “After everything we’ve been through… after all those years together… you just…” his voice catches as he lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes tightly to stop the flood of emotion. 

When his eyes slowly open again, you catch a look at the betrayal swimming in there and you want nothing more than to just drop to your knees and beg for his forgiveness but you stay frozen, watching the light completely die out in his eyes.

“Till the end… you just… keep pushing me away, don’t you?” he asks, letting out a defeated breath. “You always do this. You push and push and push until there’s nothing left for me to hold onto.” he whispers and he’s got that look on his face again. 

Like he’s so fucking exhausted. 

Like you’re the hardest thing to ever look at. 

He stares at you for a long time as he tries to stop his trembling lips and his watering eyes, taking in the image of you just…standing there, as if he’s mourning the person he used to know, realizing that no matter how hard he pulls, you are determined to slip through his fingers. 

And when it finally gets too much, when the silence becomes too loud to bear, he turns on his heel and storms out of the bedroom. 

The second you hear the front door slamming close as the metallic click of the deadbolt echoes around the penthouse and reaches you in the bedroom, signaling that he’s truly gone, the artificial strength that was keeping you upright evaporates in a second. 

Your knees hit the hardwood floor and a choked sob tears out of your throat as you press your forehead against the floor, curling into yourself as the tears completely blur your vision. Your fist squeezes the little bottle in your hands so tightly against your palm that the edges dig painfully into your skin, but you welcome the sting because it’s nothing compared to the way your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. 

//

“I need the high-jewelry archive inventory pulled immediately and a private preview arranged for our VVIP clients.” you speak, the words rolling off your tongue smoothly as Haeun nods rapidly, her stylus flying across her tablet screen.

“Understood, Ms. Min. I will coordinate with the vault security and marketing right away.” Haeun says, stepping closer as the elevator reaches the floor of your office. “Also, I wanted to brief you on the Parisian gemstone auction from this past weekend. As per your prior instructions, our acquisition team successfully outbid the competitors for the rare pigeon-blood ruby. It has already been safely transferred to our local vault and is awaiting your personal inspection.”

You nod at that as the doors slide open and you step out as the two of you begin walking across the sprawling floor towards your office, your employees bowing and greeting you one by one on the way. 

“By the way, how… was your time off, Ms. Min?” Haeun asks a few seconds later as you approach the hallway leading to your office. “Are you feeling any better? I had assumed that you wouldn’t be back in the office until next week.” 

Well that would have been the case if it weren't for your mind going completely berserk over whatever happened last night and it felt like you were back in the cycle of throwing yourself into work like nothing happened just because you couldn't sit alone in the suffocating silence with your own thoughts for another second without completely losing your sanity. 

But you don't let a single flicker of that internal storm reach your face. Instead, you keep walking as your heels keep smacking against the floor. “I’m feeling much better, Haeun. Thank you for asking.” you lie smoothly. “Anyways, let’s not waste time. Please see if you can get the European design team in Milan on a video conference tomorrow morning. We need to finalize the custom settings for that ruby.” 

And just like that, for the rest of the day you bury yourself in work. You speak louder, move faster and demand absolute perfection from everyone around you and every single frantic action feels like you’re just desperately trying to ignore the crushing, leaden heaviness in your chest because you know damn well that if you let the room go quiet for even a second, or if you dare to allow yourself a single, real moment to just breathe, the dam is going to burst open all over again. 

When you notice the time nearing 6pm, the relentless momentum of your workday finally grinds to a halt as you remember it’s your turn to pick up Yejun from daycare today.

Mr. Choi insists on driving you there himself but you reassure him that you’ll be fine because you think you need to be alone before you have to put on a brave face for your son.

When you pull up to the daycare and step towards the entrance, the teacher is already leading Yejun out, and the moment his tiny, bright eyes find yours, his face lights up. “Mama!!” he squeals, instantly letting go of his teacher’s hand and his little light-up sneakers squeak against the floor as he runs at full speed right into your arms.

You waste no time in sweeping his small body into your embrace and holding him tightly against your chest. “Hi, my love.” you greet him with a giggle, showering his chubby cheeks with kisses as you securely lift him up onto your hip. After exchanging a few polite words with his teacher about his day, you carry him out to the parking lot.

You gently strap him into his car seat and Yejun is immediately distracted by the little storybook he had left behind in your car a while ago. As you close the back door and climb into the driver’s seat, you glance up through the windshield, instantly noticing how the evening sky is bruised with heavy clouds and you wonder if it’s going to rain tonight. 

Once you arrive back at the penthouse, Yejun does a beautiful job of momentarily chasing away the shadows in your mind, making you forget about literally everything else as you chase him around the tub as he mischievously splashes warm water right at your face, leaving you soaked but genuinely laughing for the first time in 24 hours. 

By the time Yejun is dressed in his pajamas, Junhee arrives to take over the kitchen. You had explicitly called her earlier this afternoon to arrange dinner because you knew with absolute, heartbreaking certainty that Jeongguk wouldn’t be showing up to cook or take care of you anymore. 

Not after last night.

As Junhee moves around in the kitchen, you sit down on the living room rug with Yejun on your lap to watch his favorite cartoon but you notice how instead of focussing on the screen, his little head is constantly turning to the side as his big eyes trace the kitchen entryway where Junhee is busy humming and chopping vegetables. “Mama?” Yejun asks suddenly, tilting his head up to look at you. “Is Daddy not going to cook for us today?”

Your breath hitches at the question and you try your best not to let your face twist into something ugly. “Well, my love…” you breathe out, gently turning him to face you. “Daddy was only coming over to cook because Mama was feeling a little sick last week, remember? But look at me… I’m all healthy and strong now! So Junhee is back to cook us yummy food.”

Yejun goes quiet for a moment as he turns back to face the television. “I liked it when Daddy came here to cook and we all ate together.” he murmurs softly as he leans his head back against your chest, staring wistfully at the screen.“And when Daddy stayed for movie night too…. It felt like we were all back to living in one house again, Mama.”

“One house?” you murmur as you gently nudge him to face you again. “Yes, Mama, like before…” he replies, his little face lighting up. “Like when me, you and Daddy all lived in this house together and played hide-and-seek before bedtime.”

“Really, baby? You miss that?” you whisper, your fingers gently smoothing down his hair as a sharp sting pricks behind your eyes. “Mhm.” He nods, his little thumbs twiddling together. “But I understand.” he adds quietly and that instantly makes you furrow your brows. “You… understand?” 

He nods again. “Yes… Daddy told me that sometimes grownups have big… messy problems and because of that, they have to stop living together.”

You don't say anything as you wait for him to continue, wondering what exactly Jeongguk had told your son to protect his fragile little heart. 

“But Miss Han says every single problem has a sholushun.” he declares proudly, his tongue tripping over the massive word and despite the way your heart is  violently squeezing in your chest, a breathless giggle escapes your lips. “Baby…” you coo softly, leaning down to gently squish his chubby cheeks until his lips pout out like a little fish. “I think you mean solution.”

“Yes! So-lu-tion!” he chirps, practically shouting the syllables as he tries his absolute best to pronounce it better. “Miss Han says every problem has a solution, and we just have to be super duper patient and find it.” he explains and you smile softly at that, though the warmth doesn't quite reach the aching hollow beneath your ribs. 

“You know, Mama… I'm always losing Barnaby.” he suddenly says, referring to his slightly tattered blue whale plushie and you’re momentarily confused by the lightning-fast change in topic. “Oh really?” you ask, playing along to keep the tremor out of your voice and your son nods vigorously. 

“Sometimes I look everywhere and I still can't find him.” he says, spreading his tiny arms dramatically to demonstrate the severity of the situation. “I look under my bed…. I look in my toy box…. I even look in the bathroom.” he goes on, making you smile. “That's very thorough of you, baby.” you smile. 

“I know.” he says gravely. “But Daddy always helps me find him.” his face brightens instantly. “Sometimes Barnaby is under the couch… sometimes he's under all my pillows and… and sometimes he’s also inside the fridge!!” 

“Sounds like Barnaby gets around.” you chuckle, totally endeared by your son. “He really does.” Yejun sighs, shaking his head. “And one time…” he continues. “He was in Daddy's underwear pile too.”

That immediately makes you snort as Yejun dissolves into giggles. “Daddy was so confused, Mama.” he breathes out, making you nod. “I can imagine.”

“So don't worry, Mama.” Yejun suddenly says, drawing your attention back to him. “Hmm?” you tilt your head, a little confused. “Daddy always finds Barnaby, because he's really, really good at finding things.” Yejun fiddles with the lobe of your ear before continuing. “So maybe he'll find this too.”

Your breath hitches and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, because suddenly you understand exactly what your little boy has been trying to tell you this entire time. “Find what, honey?” you ask anyway, making Yejun look at you like the answer is obvious.

“The sholushun, Mama.”

Throughout dinner, you help Yejun eat, cutting up his food and making sure he finishes his vegetables while you barely swallow a single bite yourself because all you can think about are Yejun’s words from earlier and his innocent logic that madeeverything sound so so simple. 

Even now, as you sit beside his bed reading the familiar lines of his favorite bedtime story, your mind is entirely somewhere else because one second you see your son's bright, trusting and hopeful eyes, and then a split second later, you're looking at the bleeding betrayal in Jeongguk's glassy gaze as he looks at you with nothing but exhaustion.  

Your lips move on autopilot, but it’s only when you notice Yejun’s eyes  finally begin to flutter close that the fog in your brain clears and your voice softens as you gently close the book and quietly place it on the nightstand.

Making sure to tuck him in properly, you pull the duvet right up to his small shoulders and lean forward to press a soft kiss on his forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby." you whisper and only when you're certain he's completely asleep do you finally rise from the edge of the bed and make yur way out of his room, closing the door behind you. 

//

12:18 am

Your eyes snap open, a breathless gasp tearing from your throat as the terrifying illusion of your nightmare is violently shattered by a deafening crack of the loud thunder outside. For a disorienting second, you feel paralyzed with your heart hammering frantically against your ribs like a trapped bird. 

You instantly sit up, lifting your hand to wipe your sweaty neck before pressing the heel of your palm firmly against your eyes and breathe in deep, shaky lungfuls of air for a few agonizing minutes.

You don't understand why you still wake up panicking or why a primal, suffocating fear still grips you when the nightmare is always exactly the same. You don't know why, after all these years, it still possesses the power to haunt you so much. 

Your mother might have walked out and abandoned you in the storm all those years ago, but the phantom of her departure never truly left and it was almost like she had simply traded her physical presence for a permanent, mocking residency inside your own thoughts.

Pushing the heavy duvet aside, you slide your bare feet onto the chilly floor and track across the dark room, inching toward the massive windows, and gently peek through the edge of the curtains as you watch the relentless rain outside, the sky illuminated by jagged, fleeting veins of lightning.

Sighing softly, you turn your gaze back over your shoulder, looking towards the sprawling expanse of your bed. The unoccupied half remains perfectly smooth and untouched with no indentations in the pillow, no warmth radiating from the mattress, no rhythmic sound of deep breathing to soothe your frayed nerves.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you shake off the chill and slip out of your bedroom to check on Yejun. Every single time a nightmare claws you awake and Yejun is staying over with you, you get this maternal urge to just check on him. 

Once you peek into his room and see him soundly sleeping there, just the way you left him hours ago, you feel a tad bit relieved and quietly retreat back down the hallway to your bedroom and lay back down, pulling the covers to your chin.

You desperately try to force your mind into submission, wanting nothing more than to slip back into slumber but all you can do is stare at the empty space beside you. 

After flipping restlessly from side to side, tossing and turning in a futile battle against your own mind, you let out a frustrated huff and sit up once more. You stare blankly through the darkness at the wide, arched entrance of your walk-in closet and just then, another violent rumble of thunder shakes the entire penthouse, making you flinch violently.

Your breath hitches in your throat as a sudden wave of goosebumps erupts across your skin and when the thunder rumbles again, louder this time, you quickly scramble off the bed and scurry straight into the sanctuary of your closet and flick the light switch on, illuminating rows of your organized designer dresses, suits, luxury bags and shoes. 

But you aren't looking at any of that tonight as you move with an almost manic urgency and begin frantically digging through the clothes, pushing aside all your expensive and extravagant things, burying yourself deeper and deeper into the darkest, most forgotten corner of the wardrobe until your fingers finally grasp a familiar piece of worn fabric.

The minute you pull it out from the hidden corner,  you instantly bring it up to your nose and close your eyes as you desperately breathe it in. 

It still smells like him. Thank god, it still smells like him.

The scent is faint, but unmistakably his. It’s one of his oldest, softest oversized tshirts, one of the many you used to shamelessly steal from him just to lounge around in. And somehow, when he moved out after the divorce, this single forgotten tshirt had been left behind in the penthouse.

Instead of returning it to him and purging his existence from your space, a desperate, hoarding part of your soul had chosen to preserve it and you’d hidden it away like some forbidden relic of a life you destroyed.

For these past few agonizing months, you never took it out, never dared to touch it, terrified that if you exposed it to the air, his lingering scent would just evaporate into nothingness but tonight, with the storm raging outside and the ghost of your nightmare still clinging to you, you need it... you need it so badly like a lifeline. 

You waste no time, quickly undressing yourself as you peel off your robe and let your nightgown pool around your ankles. Stripped bare and shivering from the chill of the closet, you grab the oversized shirt and pull it over your head.

The worn cotton falls loosely over your frame, the fabric stretching comfortably across your shoulders while the hem brushes against your mid-thigh. It swallows you whole, just like it used to and the second the material settles against your bare skin and his scent completely envelopes you, you instantly feel a little less frightened. 

// 

“Shit.” Jeongguk curses under his breath, as he grips the edge of the window frame, staring at the relentless rain outside. He’s been awake for over an hour now, ever since he heard the loud thunder outside, pacing the confines of his bedroom like a caged animal because all he can think about right now, is you. 

He restlessly rubs the back of his tense neck before burying his face into his palm with a loud groan. He knows you and he knows with absolute certainty how much you despise thunderstorms and how it’s a terror that rattles you to your very bones. And now, armed with the devastating knowledge that your brutal insomnia has returned and that the nightmares are clawing you awake again, he is losing his absolute mind wondering how on earth you’re holding up tonight. 

He tries to force himself to believe that you’re asleep, closing his eyes and desperately trying to conjure a reality where you are tucked safely beneath your blanket, completely unaware of the chaos outside but it just doesn’t work.

If he were to call you right now, or worse, if he were to drive across the rain-soaked city and show up at your front door, he knows exactly how you’ll look at him with those beautiful, icy eyes and demand to know why he’s crossing boundaries, how you’ll yell at him and try to push him away again and again. 

But as the violent thunder continues rumbling outside, Jeongguk doesn’t think he can close his eyes for a single second tonight without knowing for a fact that you are safe and resting too.

He really wishes he had the bone in him to just stop caring. He wishes he could be that cold, indifferent guy you keep begging him to be but how is that even humanly possible? Do you really think he’s actually going to sit back, listen to this angry thunderstorm and just let you suffer? Yeah, right. 

“Fuck it.” he murmurs because he doesn't care anymore… he doesn't care about the boundaries you try to draw or the walls you keep trying to build. You can yell at him, you can throw a glass vase straight at his head, you can hit him for all he cares, but Jeongguk cannot, will not, stop caring about you. 

The only thing he has absolutely zero compliance left for is your ridiculous expectation that he should just switch his heart off. 

Within seconds, he grabs his car keys and heads straight out of his apartment as he takes the stairs two at a time to the garage downstairs. He doesn’t care that it’s literally raining cats and dogs outside, or that the visibility on the roads is bound to be completely treacherous. He doesn’t care that the wind is howling so loud or that he’s driving straight into a battlefield where the only prize is getting his heart broken all over again. 

He just… he needs to see you. 

He needs to breathe the same air as you to make sure you’re not suffering all by yourself. He’ll let you yell at him, let you break his heart into a million pieces for the hundredth time, he’ll take every single ounce of your rage and pain, just as long as he can look into your eyes and ensure that you are okay.

Roughly 30 minutes pass as Jeongguk arrives near your penthouse and he doesn’t even bother driving down into the underground garage, he leaves his car parked haphazardly at the side of the road under the punishing downpour, and runs. 

The torrential rain drenches him within seconds, plastering his dark hair to his forehead and soaking through his jacket, but he doesn't stop to care as he reaches the front door and quickly punches in the code.  

When the lock clicks open, he steps into the foyer and pauses when he notices the dim lighting illuminating the hallway. Were you… awake? 

He takes off his shoes before slowly stepping further inside, desperately trying not to make a single sound that might trigger your defenses and the moment he crosses the threshold into the living room, his footsteps freeze entirely.

There you are on the couch with your head lolled helplessly to the side, your eyes closed while an empty, half-drained wine bottle sits on the coffee table. But before any of the other details register in his mind, Jeongguk’s throat goes completely dry when he sees what you’re wearing.  

He thought he’d lost that tshirt, thought it got misplaced somewhere during all the moving but here you are drowning in nothing but the worn out fabric and as he steps closer, he realises you hadn’t just fallen asleep… you had probably desperately drank yourself in order to pass out. 

He lets out a long sigh before sinking onto the edge of the cushions beside you and slowly lifts a hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. When he notices the way you’re frowning in your sleep with your eyebrows tightly furrowed, he uses the pad of his thumb to gently stroke the space between your brows, smoothing away the worry lines until your face finally relaxes.

He winces at the awkward angle of your sleeping posture because he knows with absolute certainty that if you stay in that position any longer, you’re definitely going to wake up with the worst ache in your neck tomorrow morning so carefully, he leans closer and slowly slides one arm behind your back, supporting your shoulders, while his other arm slips beneath your thighs and lifts you off the sofa, pulling you into his chest. Your body feels entirely limp in his hold as he cradles you against his heart and quietly makes his way down towards your bedroom.

He walks over to the bed and gently places you down onto the mattress but just as he begins to slowly slide his hands away, retreating his warmth to leave you in peace, he feels a sudden shift as your eyelashes flutter. 

You squint slightly through the dim light with your vision blurred as you look up at the dark silhouette hovering over you and even through the disoriented haze, you recognize him. “Gguk…?” you rasp out and Jeongguk freezes, catching the faint scent of wine on your breath. 

“Hey…” he whispers back and he can't really help himself as he reaches out again, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Go back to sleep, jagi.” the term of endearment just slips out, but he doesn't even think of taking it back. “I just came to check on you.” he murmurs, moving his hands down to grab the duvet, intending to drape it over your shivering legs before he forces himself to walk away.

But before he can even move an inch, your hand shoots out as your trembling fingers wrap tightly around his wrist. “Stay.” you whisper, gently tugging him. “Please…” your eyes swell with sudden tears that slowly trickle down your temples because the mere thought that he might actually turn around and leave, terrifies you. “Please… hold me.” 

Jungkook looks down at you, his throat tightening as he swallows hard because seeing you like this, breaks his heart into a million jagged pieces.

“Hold me, Gguk.” you whisper again, your grip tightening around his wrist as your lips tremble and if there is one absolute truth in Jungkook’s life, it’s that he is entirely powerless against you. He has never been able to deny you anything… not his heart, not his love and certainly not his warmth when you’re literally begging for it.

He uses his free hand to gently untangle your trembling fingers from his wrist and just as your lips part to beg him again, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles to reassure you that he isn't going anywhere and slowly steps back just enough to slide his damp jacket off his shoulders. 

He drops it on the nightstand before quietly climbing onto the mattress and reaches down to pull the blanket over both your bodies as he lays down right next to you. He slides his strong arm beneath your neck, pulling your frame flush against his chest as his other arm wraps securely around your waist with his hand resting flat against your back. You immediately bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you feel the lightest kiss being pressed on the top of your head before finally forcing yourself to close your eyes. 

//

When you slowly blink your eyes awake, the first thing you register is the warmth. Not the warmth of the blanket tangled around your legs or the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains, but the warmth of the body wrapped around yours. 

For a breathless second, you freeze, terrified that shifting even a fraction of an inch will shatter what must surely be a cruel, beautiful illusion as the very first thing you see is Jeongguk’s face with his cheek squished against the pillow. 

Despite your alcohol-induced brain last night, you vividly remember the exact moment your eyes had open only to find the one person you'd been desperately yearning for standing beside your bed and how, without a single thought for your pride or dignity, you'd reached for him and practically begged him to stay. 

And to think he actually… stayed and didn't just leave after you fell asleep. 

You slowly bring your hand up from beneath the duvet and gently place it on his cheek, the soft pad of your thumb tenderly brushing over the faint scar there. 

At the sudden, warm contact of your touch, you notice the twitch of his eyelids and panic flairs for a split second, a knee-jerk instinct telling you to pull your hand away before he catches you looking…. but your fingers remain frozen against his skin and before you can even wrestle with your thoughts, Jeongguk is already opening his eyes. 

He blinks slowly, his eyes heavily hooded with residual sleep before his vision locks onto yours and you swear you can feel your breath stop entirely while Jeongguk's throat bobs slightly as he swallows.  

Without breaking eye contact, he lifts his own hand, settling it over yours where it still rests against his cheek, like he wants to seal it there. 

He just looks into your eyes for a long time before you watch his gaze start to travel down the bridge of your nose, pausing to linger on your lips before rising back up to lock into your eyes again.

You can hear nothing but the erratic thrumming of your own heart, beating so loudly against your ribs that you;re certain he can feel it radiating through the mattress and before you can do or say anything, your own eyes involuntarily do the same and neither of you look away.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what prompts him to do it, but he shifts just a millimeter closer, like he’s silently testing the waters, giving you every last chance to pull away, to remember the walls between you, to stop him… but when you don’t move back… when you don’t even flinch and stay exactly where you are with your palm still cupping his cheek beneath his hand, his eyelashes finally flutter shut as he leans forward, bridging the very last fraction of distance between you and presses his warm lips against yours.

He feels every single nerve ending in his body catch on fire when he feels your lips part and you begin kissing him back. A soft hum escapes from the back of your throat as your hand travels from his cheek, reaching to grip the soft strands of his hair at the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer, while his hand slides down the curve of your spine to pull you closer and the kiss deepens instantly, like you’re both trying to claw your way back into each other's souls. 

You shift your weight, crawling over him until you push him flat onto the mattress beneath you and the blanket completely rolls off your bodies. He lets out a low, gritty moan directly into your mouth when you divide your knees and straddle his lap until you’re practically sitting on him with your bare thighs bracketing his waist.

You don’t even understand how it’s happening… how your body is acting like it has a mind of its own. 

You moan softly shifting your hips to seek his heat and through the thin fabric of your underwear, you instantly feel him harden against you. Jeongguk’s chest rises and falls in ragged pants as his cold fingers slide from your knees up to the sensitive skin of your thighs to reach your hips beneath the hem of your tshirt… his tshirt, until his calloused palms squeezes the curve of your hips, letting his thumbs sweep inward until they graze the delicate lace of your underwear. 

When he pushes you down against his bulge before devouring your mouth even harder, both of you let out a simultaneous moan at the perfect friction and you only break the kiss to sit up and reach down for the hem of your tshirt before swiftly pulling it over your head and tossing it blindly onto the floor. 

When you expose your bare torso with your chest heaving, Jeongguk’s breath hitches, his hands freezing on your waist as he looks up at you, sitting there in the golden light looking like an absolute goddess.

His hooded eyes travel down the elegant line of your neck, lingering on the sharp curve of your collarbone and the way your hair falls over your shoulders, before finally tracking lower to eye your bare breasts, watching with a low groan as your nipples visibly harden under the scorching weight of his gaze. 

Unable to stay flat on his back for another second, he instantly sits up, wrapping one arm around your bare waist while his other hand fists your hair to pull you flush against him for another bruising kiss. He shifts his weight, inching backward across the mattress until his back hits the headboard, giving him the leverage he desperately needs to handle you.

With you completely straddling his lap, you begin to grind harder against him and Jeongguk desperately meets your movements with equal fervor as his hips arch slightly beneath yours to meet every single press of your core. 

His lips tear away from your mouth, traveling down your jaw and burying into the sensitive crook of your neck. “Fuck…” you curse, tilting your head to the side to give him more access as he bites and sucks at the soft skin before his mouth tracks lower, finding the soft curve of your breast and his tongue peeks out, swirling over your heated skin to get a taste. 

“Oh… Gguk…” you moan, your voice turning into a desperate cry as your hips stutter in their pace and when his lips finally reach the aching peak of your breast, he closes his mouth fully around your hardened nipple.

A choked sound escapes the back of your throat as your back arches in pure ecstasy while your fingers knot tightly into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as he suckles intensely on the bud. The contrast of the cool metal of his lip ring grazing your sensitive skin completely shatters the last of your control, making you lose your mind entirely and when he gently tugs on your nipple with his teeth a violent jolt of arousal travels straight down your spine and directly to your throbbing core. 

Your hands blindly scramble from his hair to grip on his shoulders for support as his wet, scorching mouth leaves one aching nipple to worship your other breast. Driven by a desperate, instinctual need to give back the pleasure consuming you, you slowly slide your hand down between your bodies, your fingers trembling with anticipation because you want to touch him too… you need to feel him too.

But the exact millisecond your palm flattens against the burning length of his bulge, Jeongguk goes entirely rigid and pulls away so fast almost like your touch just shattered the intoxicating spell hanging over him. You pause, completely confused by the abrupt movement and slowly pull your upper body back to search his face, desperately trying to read the sudden shift, to understand what went wrong… but all you find in Jeongguk’s eyes is a look of absolute horror.

“I…” he breathes out, the word breaking in his throat as he looks down at your hand, then up at your bare chest and finally into your eyes. “I can’t…” he shakes his head. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

With those words, reality comes crashing back down as you suddenly become painfully aware of the fact that you’re currently sitting completely naked and exposed in nothing but your underwear, straddling the lap of your ex-husband… a man who is still fully clothed. 

A suffocating wave of humiliation floods your chest, making you feel so fucking stupid, it physically nauseates you because why on earth did you think throwing yourself on your ex-husband was a good idea. 

You instantly scramble off his lap and Jeongguk moves just as fast, practically throwing himself off the other side of the mattress. You clutch your lower lip between your teeth as you desperately lunge for the corner of the bed, tightly grabbing a fistful of the blanket to cover your bare breasts and you curl into yourself, trying to hide the skin he had been tasting just seconds ago.

And Jeongguk? He just stands by the edge of the bed, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking as he painfully avoids your gaze. “I… I need to go.” he stammers and without uttering another word, he grabs his jacket from the nightstand and simply leaves.

//

— please drop a like, reblog or comment !! it would make me feel motivated and i would to love to hear your thoughts <3

<- part 2 // part 4 -> (coming soon)

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//

part 2

6 months ago 

Jeongguk looks down at Yejun’s sleeping figure, his chest tightening painfully at the sight in front of him. Even in his sleep, tiny hiccups still leave the little boy every now and then, remnants of the heartbreaking crying fit he had exhausted himself into barely 20 minutes ago.

It had taken almost an hour to calm Yejun down. An hour of carrying him around the penthouse, kissing his tears away, promising over and over that his mama was coming soon.

But 4 year olds didn’t understand delayed meetings, exhausted schedules or business emergencies. 4 year olds only understood absence and tonight, all Yejun could understand was that his mother hadn’t come home for his birthday.

Jeongguk waits another moment, just to make sure Yejun’s breathing has finally evened out properly before he slowly rises from the bed and pulls the blanket higher over his son’s body and quietly steps out of the room, gently clicking the door shut behind him.

It was around 10pm as Jeongguk drags a tired hand down his face and steps into the living room of the penthouse, his gaze immediately landing on the decorations still scattered around the space.

Blue and silver balloons still floated near the ceiling and the little paper banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUN !!” hung slightly crooked now after Yejun had accidentally tugged on it earlier while crying. 

And right in the center of the coffee table sat the untouched birthday cake with the tiny candle shaped like the number four melted into wax beside it.

Jeongguk remembers reminding you about today. 

Multiple times. 

He remembers mentioning it over breakfast three days ago while you skimmed through emails on your tablet. He remembers bringing it up again last night when you were half asleep beside him, exhausted from work while he quietly asked you to come home early tomorrow because Yejun had been talking about his birthday all week.

And you had promised.

But lately, promises had started losing their meaning to you.

For the past few months, it felt like pieces of your life were constantly slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly Jeongguk tried helping you hold onto them.

Movie nights with Yejun that got cancelled because meetings suddenly ran overtime, dinner date reservations forgotten completely until Jeongguk sat alone at the restaurant pretending not to care when the waiter asked if he still wanted to order, the parent meeting you swore you had written down in your schedule only for Jeongguk to sit there alone while all the other parents arrived together.

At first, he truly tried to understand.

And he did understand.

Valerra was flourishing in ways he had never imagined. Your luxury brand was taking over the market, investors wanted meetings with you, fashion magazines wanted interviews, international buyers wanted collaborations, every collection sold out faster than the previous one.

You had worked for this with blood in your lungs and exhaustion stitched into your bones.

Nobody knew that better than Jeongguk.

Nobody had seen the sleepless nights, the breakdowns, the rejection emails, the self doubt, the relentless perfectionism the way he had. He knew exactly how much this dream meant to you because he had watched you build it from nothing with your bare hands.

And god, he had been so proud of you.

Still was.

But somewhere along the way, it had started feeling like your family was becoming something you tried fitting into the empty spaces left behind by your ambition instead of the other way around.

And the worst part was that Jeongguk could never even fully blame you for it because beneath the frustration and disappointment, he understood you too well.

He understood the pressure crushing down on your shoulders. He understood your fear of losing everything you worked so hard for. He understood why you pushed yourself until there was almost nothing left of you by the end of the day.

He understood all of it.

But god… he missed you.

So fucking much. 

Because lately, Jeongguk felt like he was grieving someone who was still standing right beside him.

He closes his eyes briefly before letting out a tired sigh and reaching up to carefully pull down another decoration from the wall. At this point, it wasn’t just Yejun aching from your absence tonight…. Jeongguk was aching too.

The forgotten date nights, the anniversary you accidentally let pass a few weeks ago until Jimin wished the two of you over text and you froze in horror because you had genuinely forgotten. The nights he stayed awake waiting for you just to hear the front door open at 3 in the morning.

He tried so hard to be understanding through all of it.

But tonight hurt differently because no matter how many times Jeongguk gently explained it, no matter how softly he tried comforting him, Yejun simply couldn’t understand why his mother was not there to sing him happy birthday.

The sound of the front door unlocking suddenly echoes around the penthouse and Jeongguk’s movements instantly come to a stop as he slowly turns over his shoulder… and there you are.

You step inside looking exhausted with your coat hanging loosely off your shoulders as you walk in with hurried breaths. 

Your hair is slightly disheveled like you had been running your fingers through it all evening and there are dark circles sitting beneath your eyes that even your expensive makeup can no longer properly conceal.

“Shit… I’m so sorry.” The apology leaves your mouth immediately, before you even properly look at him. You drop your purse and car keys onto the dining table with a soft clatter before quickly rubbing both your hands over your face.

“The investors from Paris pushed the meeting back by 2 hours and then one of the production managers completely messed up the shipment numbers for next month’s launch so I had to stay back and fix everything because apparently nobody there knows how to do their goddamn job properly.” Your words tumble out rapidly. “I tried leaving earlier but then the press team kept stopping me because they wanted approval for the campaign revisions and my phone died halfway through the evening and—” you stop abruptly before finally looking up at him properly. “Shit… please don’t tell me Jun went to bed already.” you murmur, your voice suddenly quieter as your eyes land on the half removed decorations and the untouched birthday cake sitting abandoned on the coffee table.

“It’s past ten.” Jeongguk says lowly without looking at you. “Bedtime was at eight.”

You stare at him in disbelief before quickly shaking your head. “No…” you breathe out softly, panic creeping into your expression. “No, no… Honey wait…”

Jeongguk says nothing as he turns back around, reaching up to pull another decoration from the wall with his jaw clenched so tightly it hurts.

“You should’ve tried keeping him up.” you murmur quickly, almost desperately. “Just for a little longer.”

And that’s what finally does it as Jeongguk whips around so fast the paper banner slips right from his hands onto the floor. “Y/n, he waited for you !!” he snaps sharply. The sudden raise in his voice makes your eyes widen immediately because Jeongguk rarely yelled. 

Rarely.

“He tried really fucking hard to stay awake.” he says as his chest rises and falls unevenly and he can literally feel the months of frustration suddenly clawing their way out of him all at once. “He kept asking every 5 minutes if mama was home yet.” he continues, voice cracking slightly despite how angry he is. “He wouldn’t cut the cake without you. He wouldn’t open his presents without you. He waited for you until he cried himself sick because he thought maybe if he stayed awake long enough you’d finally walk through that door.”

“Jeongguk, I told you the meeting got delayed, I couldn’t just leave in the middle of—”

“In the middle of work?” he cuts you off harshly. “Yeah. I know because it’s always fucking work lately.”

“Do you think I wanted this to happen?” you ask, blinking at him in complete disbelief and Jeongguk lets out a hollow laugh that holds absolutely no humor in it. “I honestly don’t know what you want anymore.” he says.

For a second, Jeongguk almost regrets saying it. Almost.

“Excuse me?” you whisper. “You heard me.” he snaps back immediately. “Because lately it feels like nothing matters to you except that company.”

“That company?” you repeat in disbelief before suddenly laughing bitterly yourself. “That company?” you say again, your voice rising. “Jeongguk, you know exactly what that company means to me.”

“I know it means more to you than anything else apparently.” The words are cruel the moment they leave his mouth.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” you fight back. “That company is the reason we have this life!” you gesture wildly around. “This penthouse. Yejun’s school. Everything we built. Everything!”

“And what’s the point of any of it if you’re never actually fucking here to live it?” Jeongguk fires back immediately. Your breathing turns uneven as you stare at him like you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “That’s unfair.” you whisper. 

“Is it?” he asks sharply. “Tell me honestly, Y/n. When was the last time you sat through dinner without checking your phone? When was the last time you spent one full day with us without work interrupting it?” He watches you open your mouth immediately and then close it again because he knows damn well you don’t have an answer to that question. 

“And this isn’t just about Yejun.” he continues, throwing his hands up helplessly now. “What about us?” he asks as his voice cracks slightly on the word us. “God, do you even remember the last time we had a proper conversation?” he asks brokenly. “Like really talked?”

You look away immediately, your eyes squeezing shut for a brief second like even hearing this hurts.

“I haven’t held you properly for more than ten minutes these past few months.” Jeongguk laughs bitterly under his breath. “It’s always new collection this, investor dinner that, fashion week preparations, overseas meetings, campaign shoots…” he rambles as his breathing grows uneven. “And even when you’re physically beside me, you’re not really there anymore.”

You swallow hard, arms wrapping tightly around yourself.

“Do you know how many nights I’ve fallen asleep waiting for you?” he keeps going. “How many mornings I wake up and your side of the bed is still cold because you decided to sleep in the office again?”

“Jeongguk…” you whisper weakly.

“No.” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “No because, why does it feel like I have to compete with your work just to get ten fucking minutes with my own wife?” he sighs before dragging a trembling hand through his hair. “God…” he mutters. “I’m so fucking exhausted.”

“Well, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you met me.” you suddenly snap and Jeongguk’s head lifts immediately. Your eyes are glossy now, but there is something sharp sitting beneath them… something defensive. “You have always known how much Valerra means to me.” you continue, voice rising with every word. “So don’t stand there acting surprised now, like this wasn’t always going to happen.”

Jeongguk stares at you in complete shock. 

“You fell in love with someone ambitious.” you spit harshly. “Someone obsessed with succeeding… someone who made it very fucking clear from the beginning what her priorities were.”

“Y/n…” he tries but you shake your head. “No.” you cut him off. “You don’t get to throw this in my face now just because reality doesn’t look pretty anymore.”

Jeongguk’s breath visibly hitches now as he sees the anger in your eyes. 

“Did you think I’d suddenly wake up one day and stop caring about the one thing I built entirely on my own?” you ask bitterly. “Did you think marriage and motherhood were magically supposed to make me smaller?”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING !!” Jeongguk snaps. “THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING??” you shoot back instantly. “Because right now it sounds a lot like you resent me for becoming successful.”

His face twists immediately at your words. “Don’t do that.” he whispers.

“Do what?!”

“Twist this into something it’s not.” he says, voice breaking now. “I have supported you through everything.”

“And I never asked you to!” your words slice through the room so viciously that Jeongguk physically recoils and his entire expression falters like something inside him just shattered. “You act like I forced you to stay beside me while I built my career!” you continue harshly, your voice trembling now from the sheer force of everything spilling out of you at once. “You should’ve just walked away when you had the chance, Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen at your words.

“You should’ve left the moment you realized what kind of person I was!” you snap, tears now rolling freely down your cheeks. 

“Y/n—”

“No, because what did you expect?” you laugh bitterly, wiping your tears angrily before they can fall properly. “You met me when I was working myself to death trying to build something out of absolutely nothing. You knew exactly how obsessed I was with this dream.” you say pointing a finger at him. “You knew I was never going to be the kind of woman who’d happily sit at home and play house all day.”

“That’s not what I wanted from you and you know it!” Jeongguk fires back immediately. “Then WHAT?!!?” you ask. “What do you want from me, Jeongguk?”

He opens his mouth but you keep going before he can answer.

“Because no matter what I do lately, it’s wrong. If I work too much, I’m failing my family. If I try to slow down, I’m failing everything I spent my entire life building.” your chest rises sharply as another sob escapes you. “I can’t split myself into two people!” you cry. “And nobody asked you to put your entire life around mine!”

Jeongguk watches you unravel in front of him and despite his anger, despite his hurt, all he can see is exhaustion pouring out of you from every direction. But he’s hurting too… god, he’s hurting so badly.

“Well it isn’t just MY life!” Jeongguk suddenly explodes. “What about Yejun’s?” he asks brokenly, his chest heaving. “What about our son, Y/n?”

The tears in his eyes finally spill over as he gestures helplessly towards the hallway leading to Yejun’s room. “Because he’s the one crying himself to sleep while you’re too busy building an empire to notice what’s happening right in front of you.”

Jeongguk sees the exact moment your expression cracks apart as another tear slips down your cheek and suddenly, the anger in Jeongguk’s chest starts curdling into something far worse. 

Guilt.

Because despite everything, despite how hurt he is, seeing you look that devastated still destroys him. 

He exhales shakily before dragging both hands through his hair, pacing back a few steps. “You know what…” he mutters breathlessly. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

You look at him immediately but Jeongguk avoids your gaze this time because if he looks at you for too long right now, he thinks he might either completely fall apart or say something even crueler. “Let’s just…” he swallows hard, rubbing tiredly at his face. “Let’s just talk about this tomorrow.”

And just like that, Jeongguk walks away to the guest room.

Throughout your relationship and marriage, the two of you had argued countless times before. Back when you were dating, Jeongguk still remembers how you would dramatically break up with him in the heat of the moment over the smallest things only to take him back the very next day. 

Sometimes the fights were over silly things that seemed ridiculous in hindsight and sometimes they were over serious things that took longer to sort out. But no matter how ugly the fights got, Jeongguk had never once slept away from you especially after you started living together.

Even after the worst arguments, he would eventually crawl back into bed beside you sometime in the middle of the night with sleepy apologies mumbled against your shoulder and sweet kisses against your neck because neither of you really knew how to stay apart for long.

But tonight, it was different. 

Jeongguk lies awake in the guest room, staring blankly at the ceiling while the argument replays over and over in his head like punishment.

Your voice. Your tears. The way your face crumbled. 

He drags a hand over his face with a shaky exhale.

God… he knows tonight hurt, he knows Yejun was devastated, he knows he had every right to be angry but he also knows you.

Knows the version of you nobody else really sees.

He knows the woman who wakes up three times in the middle of the night just to check Yejun’s temperature whenever he had even the slightest cold, the woman who memorized every single one of his allergies before he even turned one, the woman that loves so deeply it almost destroys you and maybe that’s why this hurts Jeongguk so much, because he knows you didn’t forget tonight because you didn’t care.

You forgot because somewhere along the way, you started carrying so much on your shoulders that you convinced yourself you had to survive it all alone.

And suddenly all Jeongguk feels is exhausted heartbreak because beneath all the frustration, the truth is painfully simple.

He misses you.

Even while living under the same roof, he misses you terribly and tonight it all just came out the wrong way. 

The next morning, Jeongguk wakes up with burning eyes and a dull ache in his temples. For a few seconds, he stares at the unfamiliar ceiling in confusion before he remembers how he slept away from you last night, in the guest room. 

He exhales quietly before sitting up and rubbing tiredly at his face. 

As he steps out of the guest room and walks across the hallway, he notices Yejun’s bedroom door slightly cracked open and through the small opening, he hears hushed murmurs. 

Jeongguk slows in his steps as he inches closer to the door, peaking as his eyes land on the sight inside. 

You’re sitting against the headboard with Yejun curled up against your chest, his tiny face tucked securely under your chin while your fingers slowly comb through his soft hair again and again.

“Mama won’t do it again, okay?” you whisper softly, pressing little kisses against his hair. “I’m really, really sorry, bug.”

Yejun sniffles quietly, his eyes still swollen and puffy from all the crying he did last night. “You promised…” he murmurs sadly, his voice still thick with sleep and Jeongguk watches the way your entire face crumbles at those two tiny words. “I know.” you whisper shakily. “I know, baby.” Your fingers gently cup his little cheek, carefully making him look up at you. “Mama messed up.” you admit softly, your glossy eyes searching his tiny face like you’re desperate to make sure he still loves you the same. “But I need you to know something, okay?” you continue. “There’s  nothing in this whole world more important to me than you.”

Jeongguk instantly feels his throat tighten at the sincerity in your voice and watches the way Yejun blinks up at you slowly. “Not even work?” he asks innocently. You let out the smallest broken laugh before immediately pulling him closer against your chest, your palm rubbing softly up and down his back. “Not even work.” you whisper without hesitation. “Not even a little bit.”

Yejun stays quiet as you continue stroking his back. “It’s just…” you murmur gently. “Mama’s brain gets super busy sometimes.” You lightly tap your temple, making Yejun look at you curiously. “There’s always too many things running around in here all at once.” you explain softly. “And sometimes when grown ups get too busy and too tired, their brains become a little messy and forget stuff they really, really don’t mean to forget.”

Yejun frowns slightly. “Like when daddy forgets where he puts the TV remote?” he asks and a tiny laugh escapes you despite everything. “Exactly like that.” you nod. “Only mama’s brain is much worse.”

Jeongguk can’t help but laugh under his breath as he continues watching you two. 

“But I promise I’m gonna try really hard, okay?” you whisper as Yejun snuggles closer. “Like… super duper hard.”

“So Mama won’t forget again?” he asks quietly. “No.” you whisper firmly. “I’ll try really, really hard not to.” your voice trembles slightly at the end and Jeongguk can physically see how much you mean it. How guilty you are. How badly you wish you could undo last night entirely.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” you murmur again before kissing the top of his head. “Promise?” Yejun looks up at you. “Promise.” you repeat, before kissing the tip of his nose, making him giggle softly.

And suddenly Jeongguk remembers that despite everything, despite the tears and disappointment from last night, Yejun is still only four. Four year olds don’t know how to hold grudges the way adults do because their hearts are painfully simple. All they really want is love, reassurance, and the comfort of knowing the people they love are still there.

“Then you have to get me the giant shark robot.” he hears his son say very seriously and you stare at him before bursting into another quiet laugh before kissing his nose again. “Of course, my love.” you agree without hesitation. “I’ll get you that giant shark robot.” you smile and Yejun beams instantly. “Anything for my baby.” you giggle softly as he happily buries his face back into your chest.

And standing there quietly outside the room, Jeongguk suddenly feels absolutely horrible.

The argument from last night suddenly feels ugly and unnecessary and cruel in a way he can’t stomach anymore because after everything he screamed at you, after all the accusations and anger he threw at you, all he can see right now is a mother who looks like she would tear herself apart piece by piece if it meant her son would never feel unloved for even a second.

God, he feels like such a fucking jerk.

He steps away from the door, deciding to leave this moment entirely to you and Yejun before he heads towards the kitchen. His chest still feels tight and uncomfortable from last night, but the anger has faded now and all that remains is guilt.

Maybe he could fix this over breakfast.

Maybe once Yejun got distracted with his cartoons, he could sit you down at the table and finally say everything properly this time, tell you he never meant to yell at you like that last night, tell you he never meant those awful things in the way they came out.

Because he would never resent your success. Never.

God, how could he?

Nobody apart from you, had loved your dream more fiercely than he did and the problem was never your ambition.

He just missed you.

Missed his wife in a way that had slowly started aching inside him for months, missed feeling like the two of you were still moving through life together instead of merely existing around each other and that was all he’d been trying to say.

As he quietly starts making breakfast, he hears you and Yejun head towards the bathroom together. A few moments later, faint giggles echo through the penthouse followed by your voice telling Yejun to stop splashing water everywhere as you struggle to give him a bath. 

About 15 minutes later, you finally step into the living room with Yejun beside you, freshly bathed and fully dressed.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Yejun beams the second he sees his father behind the kitchen counter before immediately running towards him and Jeongguk effortlesslyscoops his son up into his arms, pressing a kiss against his warm cheek. “Good morning, baby.” he murmurs softly. “Someone smells nice.” He nudges his nose against Yejun’s cheek playfully, making the little boy squirm and giggle in his arms. “Mama used the strawberry soap today.” Yejun says proudly. “Ah…” Jeongguk hums dramatically. “That explains it.”

Yejun bursts into another fit of giggles and that’s when Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively lift towards you, but you never look back at him as you quietly turn around and head back towards the bedroom instead. Although disappointment settles heavily in his chest, Jeongguk tells himself not to push for now. 

Of course you were hurt after last night. Of course you needed space.

He could give you that for a few hours.

Tonight after work, once the both of you had gotten enough time to cool down, he would talk to you again. He would apologize the right way this time and explain everything without anger getting in the way. 

He would tell you that he never meant those awful things the way they sounded, tell you that he loved you more than anything and that he simply missed you terribly.

And the two of you would fix this like you always did.

That’s what he keeps telling himself the entire day at the cafe.

And maybe that was the biggest mistake Jeongguk had ever made in his life because that night, when he finally returned home, instead of accepting the ridiculously oversized bouquet of lilies from his hand, you were handing him something he never thought he’d see in his life.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

“Jagi…” The word leaves him with a horrified shudder and for a moment, Jeongguk genuinely thinks he might throw up. “No…” he breathes out faintly as he slowly lifts the papers in his trembling hands. His eyes scan the words again and again as if maybe they’ll somehow change if he looks long enough but when they don’t, he looks back up at you.

“Jagi, what…” his voice cracks. “What is this?”

You don’t answer immediately and somehow your silence is even more terrifying. Your face remains eerily calm, but Jeongguk notices the tiny details like the way you’re biting the insides of your lower lip, the way your fingers tremble on the dining table, the way your breathing is slightly uneven. 

“We can settle everything privately.” you say quietly after a long moment. “There’s no need to drag this out.”

Jeongguk just stares at you like he physically cannot process the words leaving your mouth. “What?” he laughs weakly, eyes already turning glassy. “No… no, baby, what are you talking about?”

He leans forward against the table desperately, waiting for you to crack, waiting for you to suddenly tell him this is some horrible joke but you only look away from him. “We’ll do shared custody.” you continue numbly. “We can work out schedules depending on our availability and make things stable for Yejun.”

“Stop.” His voice breaks instantly as tears spill down his face before he can even stop them. “Please stop talking like this.” he begs shakily and your jaw clenches tightly, but you still avoid his gaze.

“Y/n…” Jeongguk stands abruptly, chair scraping harshly against the floor as he quickly walks around the table towards you and grips the back of your chair and gently but desperately turns you towards him.

“Is this…” his breathing stutters violently. “Is this because of last night?”

You don’t answer and that only intensifies the panic crawling through his system.

“Baby, listen to me.” he pleads instantly, dropping onto his knees beside your chair as he grips your arms carefully. “I was angry and frustrated and I said things I shouldn’t have said but I swear to God I didn’t mean them like that.”

Still nothing.

Jeongguk feels his throat tighten so painfully it almost hurts to breathe. “We had one bad fight.” he whispers shakily. “One.”

“It wasn’t one fight.” you finally say and your voice sounds hollow. “It’s been building up for a long time.” And Jeongguk knows exactly what you mean. All the little arguments from the past few months come rushing back to him at once, most of them revolving around the same issues in one way or another, except last night had been a million times worse.

“No, it hasn’t.” he still says, shaking his head desperately. “We’ve just been stressed and busy and… and disconnected lately but that doesn’t mean…” He exhales shakily, tears falling faster now. “Divorce?”

You swallow hard before finally looking at him for half a second and the sadness in your eyes terrifies him more than anger ever could. “You don’t have to compete with my work anymore.” you whisper softly. “You don’t have to keep waiting for me to become someone different.”

His face crumples instantly. “That’s not what I want.”

“But it’s what you deserve.” you continue quietly, almost like you rehearsed this conversation a hundred times already. “We can just focus on being good parents for Yejun.” you say and he catches the way your lips tremble slightly despite your efforts to stay composed. “I’ll focus on being a better mother to him instead of trying to balance everything and failing at all of it.”

Jeongguk stares at you in complete disbelief. “Jagiya…” he whispers helplessly, his voice hoarse. “Why are you talking like this?”

“You’re unhappy.” you say quietly. “And honestly…” your voice cracks for the very first time since this conversation started. “I think you’ve been unhappy for a while now.”

Jeongguk shakes his head immediately. “No.” he tries but you don’t let him continue. “So let’s just…” you swallow hard, unable to finish for a second before forcing yourself to continue anyway. “Let’s just go our separate ways and focus on Yejun.”

The sentence completely destroys him. “No.” he says again, this time shakier, more desperate. “No, baby, stop saying things like that.”

You finally pull your arms out of his grip and Jeongguk physically feels dread claw up his throat at the loss of contact. “Y/n, please.” he breathes out quickly, standing up right after you. “Please just sit down and talk to me properly.”

But you shake your head once. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“How can you say that?” Jeongguk asks brokenly. “How can you possibly say that after everything?” he cries but you still don’t answer. Instead, you start gathering the papers on the table with trembling fingers, refusing to look at him no matter how desperately he tries to catch your eyes.

“Baby, please look at me.”

Nothing.

“Y/n.” His voice cracks harder this time. “You can’t just decide this on your own.”

“I’m not deciding it on my own.”

“Yes, you are!” he snaps. “Because you’re not even giving me a chance to fix this!”

You inhale shakily before finally speaking again. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you to resent me.” you whisper. “Resent you?” he repeats in disbelief. “Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You’re tired of me.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You literally said you were exhausted!” you shoot back. “You literally meant you were tired and lonely and that you missed your wife because she’s never around!”

“Because I love you!” Jeongguk cries out desperately. “How are you hearing any of this and thinking I want to lose you?”

Your lips tremble violently for a second and for one tiny moment, hope sparks inside his chest because you finally look like you might break too, but then the walls go back up again. “I can’t do this.” you whisper and before Jeongguk can stop you, before he can say another word, you turn around and walk away.

Just like that.

And exactly a week later, Jeongguk finds himself sitting across from you in a lawyer’s office with swollen eyes and trembling hands while some middle aged man calmly explains shared custody agreements and visitation schedules.

“…primary residence arrangements can remain flexible depending on the child’s schooling schedule…”

Jeongguk barely hears any of it as the lawyer’s voice becomes distant background noise, fading further and further away beneath the violent ringing in his ears because all he can focus on is you.

You sitting across from him with your hands folded neatly in your lap like this is some ordinary business meeting instead of the complete destruction of both your lives.

He keeps staring at you silently. 

Begging. 

Begging for you to look at him properly… to hesitate… to suddenly burst into tears and say this was a mistake… to tell the lawyer nevermind… to tell Jeongguk to take you home.

But you never look up.

Not even once.

And Jeongguk thinks that hurts the most.

Not the argument, not the papers, not even the fact that his marriage is actually ending.

It’s the way you just won’t look at him anymore.

//

The divorce replays in Jeongguk’s mind over and over again as he stands alone in the cafe’s back kitchen, absentmindedly turning his wedding ring between his fingers. He doesn’t know why he still carries it around with him. It’s probably because a part of him still can’t comprehend the fact that he’s no longer your husband or because taking it off completely feels too final like admitting the life the two of you built together is truly gone.

So instead, he keeps it in his pocket every single day, only pulling it out during moments like this when all he can do is just think about the past. 

Being in a relationship with you was never something that could be explained simply.

Loving you was easy… god, loving you had been the easiest thing Jeongguk had ever done in his entire life. It happened as naturally as breathing, as naturally as his heart continuing to beat.

Understanding you, however, was something else entirely.

You weren’t someone who could ever be fully known all at once because you unfolded slowly… in fragments and in contradictions. One day you would let him so far into your heart that he would feel drunk on the feeling, fully convinced there was nobody in the world luckier than him and then the very next day, you would retreat so deeply into yourself that he would start wondering if he had imagined that closeness altogether.

You were never difficult in the cruel or exhausting sense people usually meant. You were… layered. The kind of person who carried entire oceans inside herself while only allowing people to cup handfuls of water at a time.

And Jeongguk had honestly loved that about you. 

He had loved the mystery of you, the way every year together still felt like discovering new rooms inside the same person. He loved how deeply you thought about things, how carefully you loved despite pretending you didn’t know how to. 

He loved the rare moments where your walls slipped completely and he got to see the softest, most tender parts of you hidden underneath all that sharpness. 

Being loved by you felt precious exactly because it didn’t come easily and every vulnerable piece of yourself you handed him felt earned. It felt sacred.

Loving you wasn’t easy in the sense that it was simple. It was easy in the sense that no matter how complicated things became, Jeongguk never once wanted to stop.

Not once.

But after the divorce, when Jeongguk was desperately trying to survive the aftermath of losing you, he realized he needed something to hold onto besides love.

He wanted to hate you.

And maybe that sounded immature, maybe even cruel, but he needed something other than the devastating love he still carried for you after everything because loving you this much even after losing you felt unbearable… it felt humiliating like his heart hadn’t received the memo that you were gone.

He needed something that would make the ending easier to live with, something that would hurt less than missing you every second of the day, something to dull the grief.

People liked to say that when you truly love someone, even their flaws become lovable. That love softens the sharpest parts of a person until even the habits that should irritate you begin to feel strangely endearing simply because they belong to the person you love.

And after almost a decade with someone, you inevitably learn every version of them.

Not just the beautiful parts.

You learn the ugly things too… the habits that hurt, the words that wound during arguments, the parts of them capable of breaking your heart wide open.

Love doesn’t make someone flawless. It simply makes you willing to hold their flaws gently for far longer than you probably should.

So when the divorce happened, Jeongguk tried desperately to find something inside himself that hated you enough to finally let go. Something solid, something sharp enough to cut through the grief, something cruel enough to drown out the love that still clung stubbornly to every part of him no matter how badly he wanted it gone.

So one night, sitting alone in his newly rented 2 bedroom apartment, the one he had to force himself to move into after everything ended, Jeongguk decided to point out your flaws and make a list of the 10 things he hated about you.

First, you were selfish.

You always chose your ambitions first…your goals, your vision, the life you were building with your own two hands while everything else always seemed to come second to you. Sometimes it felt like you were always running towards a finish line only you could see. 

Second, you were cold. 

He remembers the day his cafe got featured in a few local magazines and newspapers. It wasn’t anything massive, but to him… it meant everything. It felt like proof that all those long hours, all the exhaustion, all the doubt he and Jimin had before opening the cafe had finally amounted to something real.

He had shown up at your place that evening, with the magazines and newspapers in his hand, flipped it open to the page, pointed at the small paragraph written about him and Jimin and the photo of the place, absolutely excited to see your reaction. 

But you had only taken one magazine, skimmed through it for a few seconds, and said “That’s nice. It’s good exposure.” And that was it… nothing more.

Third, you were harsh.

Your words didn’t always soften themselves before leaving your mouth. Jeongguk remembers how you called his picnic date by the han river idea “stupid” and also that one time when he showed you matching couple shirts, you looked at him like he was crazy and called the whole concept of matching couple items “cringey.” 

Fourth, you were confusing.

God, Jeongguk genuinely didn’t think he’d ever met someone moodier than you. Some days you would practically melt into him, letting him hold you for hours while you lazily played with his fingers and demanded attention every five minutes and then other days you would look at him like his mere existence within a five foot radius was irritating enough to start a war over. 

In short, there were times Jeongguk couldn’t even tell if you wanted a kiss or wanted him legally removed from the premises.

Fifth, you were stubborn.

Once you made up your mind about something, moving you was like trying to physically redirect a mountain. Jeongguk still remembers spending almost six months trying to convince you to let him pay for literally anything during your early dating days because you refused to rely on anyone financially for even a second. 

Sixth, you were distant.

You kept people at arm’s length so instinctively that sometimes Jeongguk wondered if you even realized you were doing it. It took him nearly two years to learn about your fear of thunderstorms and it took even longer for him to realize you only slept curled against him on particularly difficult nights because physical closeness was the only thing that quieted your anxiety enough to let you rest.

Seventh, you were way too particular.

God, your level of particularness bordered on insanity sometimes. Jeongguk remembers how you spent 12 consecutive days choosing kitchen tiles for the penthouse because you were simply convinced that choosing the wrong one would lowkey mean the end of the world. 

12 days. Over fucking kitchen tiles.

Eighth, you were unfair. 

You always made huge decisions alone, like purchasing the penthouse without telling him, like booking your honeymoon trip to New Zealand before discussing it with him, like filing for a divorce without ever giving him the chance to understand. 

Ninth, you were heartless.

At least that’s what Jeongguk tried forcing himself to believe because otherwise, how else was he supposed to justify the terrifying calmness in your eyes the night you handed him those divorce papers? How was he supposed to understand the way you walked away from him while he begged you to stay? How was he supposed to survive believing you still loved him after that?

And the tenth reason?

Jeongguk hated how easily it seemed like you erased him from your life while he still carried pieces of you in everything he did.

And yet… when Jeongguk tried to hold onto those 10 reasons, his heart betrayed him because for every single one of these reasons, there was something else, something that didn’t fit the version of you he was trying so desperately to believe in.

So he made another list. Not of the things he hated about you… but of the things that proved he never really could.

First, you weren’t selfish.

Because he remembers the way you used to quietly transfer money to the orphanage you spent most of your life in without ever mentioning it to anyone, the way you funded entire renovations and still acted like it was nothing. 

He remembers the nights you stayed up designing pieces not for your brand, but for charity auctions, the way you’d exhaust yourself for causes that had nothing to do with your own success.

Second, you weren’t cold.

Because he remembers how the very next day after he had shown you those articles, you randomly showed up at the cafe with each and every single article and photograph carefully cut out and neatly framed so that he and Jimin could put it up on the walls all around the cafe. 

Third, you weren’t harsh.

Because he remembers how your “stupid” and “cringey” comments never really meant what they sounded like on the surface. 

You called his picnic idea stupid, but still showed up and even made the sandwiches yourself despite being an objectively terrible cook. Jeongguk remembers how one of them had way too much mustard, another somehow had sugar instead of salt and one was so unevenly cut it looked like you’d given up halfway through. He still ate them with the biggest smile anyway.

You called matching couple items embarrassing, but three weeks later he found a small bag left outside his front door with a pair of brand new sneakers inside along with a simple handwritten note that said “i got the same ones :)”  

Fourth, you weren’t confusing.

Because slowly, over time, he learned that when you went quiet, it wasn’t because you didn’t want him. It was because something inside you felt too much and you didn’t know how to express it. 

He learned that your clingy days were the days you felt safe, and your distant ones were the days you needed him the most even if you pushed him away.

Fifth, you weren’t stubborn.

Because the same girl who refused to let him pay for literally anything was the same girl who eventually learned how to lean into him.

He remembers the first time you let him take care of you without arguing. The way you looked almost uncomfortable, like you didn’t know what to do with being loved so gently. You didn’t resist because you were stubborn, you resisted because you had never been given the option to rely on someone before.

Sixth, you weren’t distant.

Because he remembers the first time you told him about your mother, about how you ended up at the orphanage, about what it felt like to be left behind without fully understanding why. 

He remembers how you didn’t look at him much while you spoke and the way your fingers kept fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. You were never distant… you just needed time to feel safe enough to open up.

Seventh, you weren’t particular for simply no reason.

Because the kitchen tiles mattered so much to you only because the kitchen was one of the places you knew Jeongguk would spend most of his time in.

He was the better (only) cook between the two of you, that much was obvious, but more than that, you knew how it was always one of his greatest passions. So every detail you obsessed over, every option you reconsidered, every tiny difference you refused to overlook… it all came from that…. from wanting to make that space feel like his as much as possible.

Eighth, you weren’t unfair.

Because even when you made decisions on your own, you always carried him within them. 

The penthouse you purchased had the best view of the sunset, not because it mattered to you all that much, but because you knew how much Jeongguk loved watching the sun set. You booked your honeymoon trip to New Zealand only because he had briefly mentioned on your 3rd date about wanting to see the glowworm caves there someday.

And even the worst decision… the one that broke him the most… the divorce.

Jeongguk doesn’t know how to justify that one. He doesn’t know how to fit it into the same pattern without everything inside him falling apart but a part of him still thinks… maybe it wasn’t fair to you either.

Ninth, you weren’t heartless.

Because he remembers the way your fingers trembled that night, the sadness in your voice, the way you refused to look at him… not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much almost like if you’d looked at him properly, you might not have been able to walk away at all.

And the tenth reason?

You didn’t erase him because if you really had… there would be nothing left of him in your world. But there was Yejun… living, breathing proof of everything the two of you had once been.

Jeongguk knows this isn’t exactly healthy… the way he keeps bending the truth, softening the edges of every memory, turning every sharp thing about you into something he can still hold onto without bleeding. He knows he shouldn’t be justifying you like this, shouldn’t be searching for gentleness in places that once hurt him.

It’s almost like… for every reason he gives himself to hate you, he finds two more that undo it.

And truthfully, Jeongguk has no idea how to stop this because he doesn’t think there’s a single part of him, not a bone, not a breath, not a single fiber of his heart, that’s even remotely capable of hating you.

You loved in ways that contradicted themselves. You were close and distant, warm and cold, careless and painfully intentional all at once. 

You drove him insane more times than he could count, left him confused, left him questioning where he stood, left him chasing something he could never fully understand and yet… you made him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had.

And he knows, deep down, that no matter how it ended… he will never ever hate you… but still… is it so wrong that a part of him aches? That a part of him wishes he hadn’t been left standing in the wreckage of something he’d believed would last forever?

Jeongguk lets out a quiet sigh before shoving the ring back into his pocket and turns towards the oven, carefully pulling out a fresh tray of caramel pecan danishes. His eyes flick to the small digital display on the oven where the time reads “12:23 a.m.”

By the time he steps out into the main cafe with the danishes transferred to a cooling tray, the place is already packed as usual. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and a long line snakes all the way from the register to the glass entrance doors, customers chatting amongst themselves while Jimin moves quickly behind the counter taking orders with the espresso machine hissing and the milk frothers whirring nonstop in the background while soft jazz plays through the speakers overhead.

Jeongguk carefully carries the tray over towards the display case near the register. He crouches slightly, arranging each danish neatly behind the glass.

The part timer finally slips behind the counter to replace Jimin for a while and almost instantly, Jimin makes his way over to Jeongguk. “What time do you have to leave again?” he asks, leaning against the counter as Jeongguk adjusts the tiny handwritten label just beneath the pastries.

“I need to be at Jun’s school by 3.” Jeongguk answers. “So I’ll probably head out around 2.” he adds as Jimin nods. “You going straight there?”

Jeongguk shakes his head lightly. “Nah. I’m gonna stop home first, shower, change… maybe grab the camera too.” he says, lips curving faintly. 

“Record his whole performance for me, okay?” Jimin instantly says. “Like I’m serious… don’t miss even a second.” he says sternly as Jeongguk nods. “Don’t worry, I will.” he chuckles. “I’ll send you the video later.”

There’s a brief pause before Jimin speaks again. “So..” his voice trails off. “Y/n’s coming too?”

Jeongguk’s movements slow for the smallest second before he nods once. “Yeah…” he says quietly. “She is.”

Jimin hums softly, folding his arms over his chest as he watches him. “Jun’s probably been counting down the days for this then.” he says with a small smile. “Kid gets so excited whenever both of you show up.”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk agrees softly. “He does.”

And it was true. Yejun always glows a little brighter whenever both of you are in the same room together, like some part of him still sees the three of you as one unit instead of fractured pieces trying their best to function separately.

Jeongguk wasn’t oblivious to the effort you’d been making lately either, especially after the divorce. 

You started showing up more… rearranging schedules, cancelling meetings, making time in ways you hadn’t before and it was clear that you no longer wanted to keep hurting Yejun, even unintentionally snd Jeongguk was grateful for that… he really really was but beneath that gratitude he just wished that it hadn’t taken losing everything for this to happen… that he didn’t have to go through a whole divorce just to see this version of you.

//

“The legal team has finalized the partnership drafts for your approval, and the quarterly financial reports have been sent to your inbox.” Haeun reports as you nod along to her words. 

“And your strategy review with the Tokyo team has been moved to tomorrow morning, and the board presentation has been pushed to next week.” she continues, eyes moving swiftly across her tablet. “Also, Mr. Choi will be here at 3 to pick you up and drop you off at your son’s school.”

At that, you give her a small, appreciative smile. “Great. Thanks, Haeun.” you say, offering a slight nod and she takes the cue immediately, bowing politely before turning to leave your office.

Once she’s out, you let out a soft sigh and lean back in your chair, turning slowly towards the floor to ceiling window that overlooks the wide stretch of Seoul.

You narrow your eyes slightly against the brightness of the afternoon sun, letting it sit on your face for a moment before turning back to your desk and your gaze lands almost immediately on the small frame beside your monitor.

It’s a picture of you and your son. 

Yejun’s laughing in the picture, cheeks chubby and eyes crinkled into crescents as you hold him close, looking at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

Your lips curve instinctively, as you gaze at the frame but your smile fades just as quickly as it came as your eyes lower. Your hand moves almost without thinking, reaching for the drawer beneath your desk and you hesitate for a full minute before pulling it open.

Your breath hitches just slightly as you look at the two frames that sit tucked neatly inside. 

One is a family photo where Jeongguk stands beside you with Yejun between the two of you, his tiny face squished slightly as both of you press kisses to his cheeks at the same time. 

The other… is your wedding photo... just you and Jeongguk.

You’re standing beside him, dressed in white, his hand wrapped securely around yours. He’s looking at you like you’re something he never wants to lose while you… you’re smiling at the camera in a way you haven’t seen in a long time.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for that frame, pulling it out carefully. A slow breath leaves you as you bring it closer, your head tilting just a little as your eyes linger on every detail, like you’re trying to memorize something you already know by heart.

And just like that, like a broken record… the voices from that night come rushing back all at once, so vivid it almost feels like you’re standing in your living room again and your eyes squeeze shut, your grip tightening around the frame until the edge presses uncomfortably into your palm.

Everything comes back… everything he said… everything you said.

The words collide into each other, louder and louder until you can’t even tell which one came first. His voice or your voice or the accusations or the defenses.

You know things escalated that night. You know you said things you didn’t mean, things you hate yourself for even now, words you wish you could just… take back, swallow whole, erase completely.

But there’s one thing that refuses to fade into the background, one particular sentence he said that keeps replaying louder than everything else.

“I’m so fucking exhausted.”

You don’t know what it was exactly… maybe it was the way his voice cracked just slightly at the end or maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way he didn’t even try to take it back or maybe it was because the words themselves felt far too familiar because it wasn’t the first time someone had said that very sentence to you.

And somehow, that was what made it hurt most because at that point of argument, he sounded less like your husband and a lot like someone giving up on you. 

Because suddenly, you could see it… his exhaustion, his frustration, the way he’d been desperately trying, over and over again, to make you understand, to reach you, to hold onto something that kept slipping through his fingers while you had just stood there, unable to meet him halfway, unable to give him what he was asking for, even when you knew he deserved it.

All you could feel in that moment was how small it made you, how guilty and pathetic you felt like you were standing there watching something break, knowing you were a part of the reason it was breaking and still not knowing how to stop it and that’s exactly when that quiet, suffocating fear you had buried so deep for so long began clawing its way back to the surface, wrapping around your thoughts until it was all you could hear.

The fear that maybe… your husband was finally starting to see you as someone impossible to love. 

And a fear so ugly, had always known how to turn itself into anger inside you because it was that exact moment when everything inside you started unraveling. All the things you’d never even thought of saying, the things you didn’t know you were capable of thinking, came spilling out before you could stop them.

And when he chose to sleep away from you that night, something he had never done before, it felt like the last straw, like all your fears were simply solidifying. 

You remember sitting there on the bedroom floor long after the door to the guest room had closed, your back pressed against the side of the bed with your hands lying uselessly in your lap as you simply stared at nothing. 

For the first time, you truly felt like Jeongguk was done with you and maybe that’s how you concluded the demise of your marriage. 

You sat there and let it all consume you because you didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know how to fix something that you thought had already begun to fall apart.

And somewhere in the middle of all that fear and helplessness, a thought took root. It didn’t come out of clarity, or from strength… it wasn’t logical or fair or even something you were proud of, but it felt necessary in that moment. 

You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you first. The thought of just standing there and watching him walk away, of hearing him say that he was done, felt far more unbearable than anything else because being left had never just been about heartbreak to you. 

It was your history.

And then there was Yejun.

Because if falling in love and marriage had always terrified you, motherhood was something else entirely.

You had never been one of those women who daydreamed about children or imagined herself naturally stepping into motherhood. You never really saw yourself as maternal, not because you didn’t know how to love, but because you had never been shown what a mother’s love was supposed to look like. 

How were you supposed to become something you never truly had? 

But when Yejun came into your life unexpectedly and you held him for the very first time, you wanted to give him everything.

Everything you had never received. A home that felt safe, a love that didn't disappear, a mother who stayed… a mother who chose him, every single day.

Which was exactly why Jeongguk’s words shattered something inside you because when he called out your carelessness, your constant absence, you didn’t just hear concern, you heard failure… you heard confirmation of every fear you'd spent years trying to outrun.

That maybe no matter how hard you loved your son… you were already becoming the very woman you had sworn you would never resemble.

And that thought terrified you more than anything because you could survive anything, but you couldn't survive being the reason Yejun ever felt even a fraction of what you had felt as a child.

You never wanted him to cry himself to sleep wondering why his mother felt distant, never wanted him to feel like he had to beg for affection, never wanted him to question whether he was enough, never wanted him to… even for a single second, think his mother was slowly drifting away from him… or worse, abandoning him altogether. 

So your mind did what wounded hearts often do when they are too overwhelmed to think clearly… it chose sacrifice.

If you couldn’t be everything at once, then maybe you had to choose. Maybe being a better mother meant pouring every broken piece of yourself into Yejun before it was too late, maybe trying to hold onto your marriage while drowning in guilt and fear would only make two people miserable and maybe Jeongguk… Jeongguk became the easier loss.

Not because you loved him less.

God, if anything, you loved him too much.. too much to watch resentment grow in his eyes, too much to imagine him waking up one day and realizing life might have been easier without you in it… too much to risk becoming another burden he had to carry.

So maybe you were running, maybe you were protecting yourself, maybe you were deflecting or maybe you were drowning too deeply in fear to tell the difference between survival and self-destruction but all you knew was, you couldn’t bear to feel like that 7 year old girl who helplessly watched her mother drive away and disappear into the storm, again. 

So instead of waiting for that moment to come sooner or later, you decided to take it into your own hands. You told yourself it would hurt less that way, that if you ended things first, you would at least have some control over how it all fell apart. 

But now, 6 months later, as you sit here, staring at a frame that holds everything you once had, you can finally see how wrong that thought was because it didn’t hurt any less. If anything, it hurt in ways you’d never prepared yourself for because now, you’re not only left with the ugly ache in your chest, but also the knowledge that you were the one who let go first.

// 

“Please let me know if you would like me to return for you once you’re done, ma’am.” Mr. Choi says, turning slightly from the driver’s seat. You offer him a polite smile, dipping your head in a small nod. “Thank you, Mr. Choi.”

With that, you step out of the car, your heels clicking against the pavement below. Once you shut the door, the afternoon breeze catches loose strands of your hair, brushing them across your face and Mr. Choi starts the car behind you, merging back into the road, leaving you alone by the sidewalk. 

You reach up, pushing your sunglasses down as the harsh sunlight spills across the school grounds ahead, forcing your eyes to narrow just a little. Your gaze lifts towards the entrance ahead, already crowded with people. You smooth a hand over your outfit almost absentmindedly before beginning to walk in the direction of the school gates.

A large, slightly crooked banner stretches across the entrance, hand-painted in bright, uneven colors. “Welcome to Songrim School’s Talent Show” it reads, the letters outlined with little stars and doodles.

Parents are gathered in small clusters near the gate, some holding bouquets of flowers and others juggling phones and cameras. There are children running around in half-finished costumes, some wearing oversized hats or capes that drag behind them as they laugh and chase each other across the courtyard.

A group of teachers stand near the entrance with clipboards in hand, trying to maintain some kind of order as they call out names and direct students towards the auditorium. Every now and then, a child breaks away from the line, rushing towards their parents with excitement, only to be gently ushered back again.

As you move further into the courtyard, your gaze drifts across the crowd as you try to spot the precious little boy you came here for.

“Y/n—!” The sudden sound of your name cuts through the noise, making you stop in your tracks and you glance over your shoulder, your eyes narrowing slightly behind your sunglasses as you search for the source of the voice.

And then you see him.

Jeongguk’s waving at you as he jogs over from the direction of the parking lot, weaving his way through the crowd.

“You’re… you’re here.” he breathes out when he finally reaches you, slightly bent forward, one hand resting on his knee as he tries to catch his breath with a faint sheen of sweat lining his forehead. “I—sorry… did… did I keep you waiting long?” he adds, words coming out in short, breathless fragments between inhales.

You don’t answer right away, deciding to take him in instead. His video camera bag slings across his shoulder and his fuzzy brown coat sits perfectly over his frame. “I just got here.” you simply say and Jeongguk studies you for a second, trying to catch your eyes behind the dark lenses, like he’s searching for something he’s not sure you’ll let him find.

But you’ve already looked away, adjusting your purse over your shoulder and crossing your arms over your chest. “We should go find Yejun.” you say as you begin walking again and Jeongguk swallows, before nodding to himself and follows a step behind you.

The two of you move through the crowd side by side but not quite together, your eyes scanning the courtyard filled with people. There are too many faces, too many small voices overlapping at once, making it harder than it should be to find the one you’re looking for but then—

“Mama!! Daddy!!”

Both of you turn at the exact same time, almost instinctively, and there Yejun is, standing in line with his class, practically bouncing on his toes as he waves at you with both hands now, like he can’t contain himself. 

He’s dressed in the most adorable little sea-themed costume… soft blue overalls with shimmering fabric stitched along the sides to look like waves, a tiny plush whale sewn onto his chest, and a pair of fin-like sleeves that wobble every time he moves. There’s even a little headband sitting slightly crooked on his hair with a felt dorsal fin sticking up, tilting to one side from all his excited movement. His cheeks are dusted with a bit of glitter and there’s tiny little bubbles painted  along the side of his face, though one of them is already smudged.

At the front of the line, a teacher stands with a clipboard, calling out names, trying to keep the children from drifting out of place as they fidget and chatter among themselves but Yejun doesn’t look away from his parents for even a second.

You giggle, instantly removing your shades and lift your hand, waving back at him and beside you, Jeongguk instantly whips out his video camera with the proudest smile as he quickly starts recording. “Yejun-ah!” he calls out and Yejun immediately perks up at the sound of it, turning his full attention towards the camera. His little body straightens, and then he starts posing… throwing up peace signs, puffing his cheeks, even doing a tiny spin that makes the fin on his headband wobble dangerously to one side.

You coo softly at the sight, your smile only growing wider but the moment doesn’t last long as the teacher at the front begins ushering the children forward, guiding the line towards the auditorium and Yejun is pulled along with the rest, though he keeps glancing back at you, still waving until he disappears past the doors.

Jeongguk lets out a small sigh as he lowers the camera, his thumb already moving to replay the footage with a fond smile as he watches it back and while he watches his son, you find yourself looking at him.

Jeongguk had always been a good father, even before Yejun was born.

God, you remember how terrified you were when you first found out you were pregnant. For someone who had spent most of her life convincing herself she would never fall in love, never get married, never build a family… it all felt unreal now that these things were actually happening in your life. 

But with Jeongguk beside you… it never felt as unbearable as you thought it would be. 

Apart from the fact that it was the bare minimum any man who called himself a father should do, Jeongguk still went out of his way to do more, to make everything easier for you in ways you hadn’t even realized you needed.

He was there through everything… every appointment, sitting beside you with your hand in his, asking questions you hadn’t even thought to ask. 

Every time morning sickness got the better of you, he’d instantly bring you some warm ginger tea or lemon water, something he had looked up and memorized just to ease the nausea and sit beside you on the bathroom floor, carefully holding your hair back while his hand rested gently against your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles until it passed.

On nights when your body would get too restless, he’d stay awake with you without hesitation. Sometimes he’d talk softly about his day, about random little things just to fill the silence and other times he’d just sit there with you, occasionally kissing your neck and temple as his fingers stayed intertwined with yours. 

No matter what time of the day or night it was, if you so much as mentioned wanting a bulgogi rice bowl, he’d be in the kitchen without hesitation, with his sleeves rolled up and tattoos on full display. And every day, without fail, he’d bring you something sweet from the cafe, something he baked himself. 

When your body ached, he was always there before you could even ask. He’d massage your shoulders, rub your feet, kiss your body all over. 

Most nights he’d lay on your chest, with one hand gently stroking your bump as he spoke to your baby like he was already here. He’d tell him about his day, about how much he couldn’t wait to meet him, about how strong his mama was, how beautiful she looked even when she thought she didn’t and how lucky he was to have you.

And in every moment when you felt like you didn’t know what you were doing, when doubt crept in and made everything feel overwhelming, he never once made you feel like you were falling short. If anything, he made you feel like you were doing something extraordinary.

And after Yejun was born, something about him softened even more.

He memorized Yejun’s cries within weeks, could tell if he was hungry or just needed to be held. He learned how to burp him properly, figured out which pacifier Yejun preferred after trying 3 different ones, insisting there had to be a difference even when you told him they all looked the same.

He learned how to swaddle him just right, adjusting the blanket over and over until it was snug enough to make Yejun calm down instantly. 

There were nights when you would stir at the faintest sound, only to feel the empty space beside you and find Jeongguk already up, gently rocking Yejun in his arms, whispering soft words into his hair until the tiny hiccups of crying settled into quiet breathing. He’d even fall asleep like that sometimes, sitting upright on the couch with Yejun curled against his chest, one hand protectively cupped around his tiny back.

In the mornings, he’d let you sleep in without ever saying a word, moving around the house as quietly as possible, warming milk, changing diapers, humming softly to keep Yejun entertained. And when you’d finally wake up, you’d find them both in the kitchen as Jeongguk balanced Yejun in one arm while trying to cook with the other hand and occasionally kissing the top of his son’s head when he’d get too fussy.

Bath times became little routines with Yejun gripping onto his father’s fingers while Jeongguk exaggerated every movement just to hear him giggle. He’d wrap him up in a towel like a little burrito afterward and press small kisses against his damp hair while murmuring how perfect he was.

Now that you think about it… you don’t think you ever really had to worry about anything else back then other than breastfeeding your son (something Jeongguk would have gladly taken over without hesitation if it were biologically possible).

And when it came to you, it felt like Jeongguk had started seeing you in a different light. 

After watching you endure hours of pain to bring Yejun into this world, the way he looked at you changed. It wasn’t just love anymore, it was something almost reverent like you were something stronger than everything he’d ever known. 

He knew it hadn’t been easy for you… not the months of carrying a literal life inside you, not the exhaustion that clung to you, not the way you would sometimes stand in front of the mirror a little too long, your hands resting over your body like you were trying to recognize it again. 

He noticed everything, every hint of insecurity, every hint of tension and he made sure to never let you sit with that feeling for long. He made it his purpose to remind you, over and over again, just how much he loved you for all of it in more ways than one. 

Not despite it, but because of it.

“Y/n?” Jeongguk’s voice abruptly snaps you out of your trance as you stiffen slightly, suddenly aware of how long you’d been staring at him. “Oh… um…” you falter, your gaze dropping almost instantly as you try to compose yourself. “We should probably head inside.” you say, gesturing vaguely towards the auditorium doors ahead.

“Yeah… yeah.” he agrees, shifting the camera strap on his shoulder. “They’ll probably call the parents in once all the kids are lined up anyway.” There’s a brief pause as he looks at you again. “We might as well wait near the entrance.” he adds and you nod, a little too quickly. “Right.”

As the two of you step forward, making your way towards the auditorium, a shrill voice cuts through the noise of the courtyard before you can get very far.

“Jeongguk-ssi !!”

Your jaw tightens almost instantly as you turn alongside Jeongguk, already knowing exactly who it is before you even see her.

Kim Yuna.

The hot single mom and fellow parent whose son, Woojin, happens to go to the same school and is very good friends with Yejun. She’s someone you have encountered often enough to recognize not just her face, but her… patterns and it would be fair to say you have some history (one sided, but still) with her.

Back when Jeongguk was still your husband and the two of you were making a genuine effort to be friendly with the other parents whose children would share a part of your son’s life, you had tried to be polite with her. 

You had smiled, introduced yourself properly, asked her about her son, about school routines, about the small things people usually talk about in these situations.

Yuna, however, had very little interest in what you had to say because conversations with her always seemed to reroute themselves, somehow, inevitably, towards Jeongguk.  

You would begin a sentence and somehow she would end up responding to him, you would ask a question and she would answer it while looking at him and she had the most annoying habit of talking over you rather than to you and it was subtle enough to be deniable, but consistent enough to be impossible to ignore.

And your sweet husband, for all his strengths, had been painfully oblivious to it… to the exaggerated flutter of her lashes, to the way her hand would linger on his arm, to the not-so-subtle wardrobe choices that felt slightly excessive for something as mundane as a primary school pickup… nothing overt enough to call out, but not nearly as innocent as it pretended to be.

Over time, though, you had managed to calmly convey to Jeongguk that you weren’t particularly fond of this woman.You didn’t know what her intentions were, didn’t know if this was simply the way she carried herself, but something about her had just never sat right with you.

Jeongguk, to his credit, hadn’t questioned you, didn’t brush it off or make you feel unreasonable. He had simply taken note and from that point on, he kept his distance like the loyal husband he was. No unnecessary conversations during drop-offs, no lingering politeness during pick-ups, no acknowledgment beyond what was required at school events. It was never made into a big deal, but it was handled.

But now things are different.

Jeongguk isn’t your husband anymore, and your divorce, inconveniently, is not something that stayed private for long. With you being a public figure and all, it had made its way into headlines and hit the tabloids barely a week after your separation, dissected and speculated on by people who knew nothing about what had actually fallen apart between the two of you.

So as Yuna finally stops in front of the two of you, slightly breathless, her attention already locked onto Jeongguk, lashes fluttering so aggressively you’re half convinced they might actually detach and fly off, you can’t help but think she probably assumes this as her opportunity… her moment… the perfect, neatly timed opening to finally get close to Jeongguk in a way she never quite could before.

And what makes it worse is the unsettling possibility that it might not even be an assumption anymore because what if Jeongguk notices it this time and what if, instead of brushing it off like he used to, he lets himself sit in it for a second and realises he actually likes it. What if he doesn’t mind being wanted like this anymore, what if he’s open to it, open to moving on, to letting someone else step into a space that once belonged only to you. What if, this time, he doesn’t step back, doesn’t draw that line he used to hold so firmly. What if he lets himself be taken in by it, not because he doesn’t know better, but because he no longer has a reason to resist it

And just like that… you feel that familiar, unwelcome twist in your chest. Only this time, you’re not sure if you have the right to feel like this anymore, especially when the man standing beside you is no longer yours. 

“Oh my god, hello Jeongguk-ssi!!” Yuna beams, her voice bright and just a little too eager. Jeongguk hesitates for half a second, his eyes instinctively flickering towards you first, a faint crease forming between his brows like he’s already a little thrown off. 

When you don’t meet his gaze, he recovers, offering a polite, restrained smile. “Yuna-ssi, hello.” he says, his fingers tightening slightly around the strap of his camera bag, shoulders squaring in that subtle way you’ve learned means he’s trying to keep things neutral.

Yuna doesn’t seem to register it… or maybe she does and simply chooses not to care. “Wow, it’s been a while.” she says, stepping just a little closer. She doesn’t even look at you, not once, and not that you’re particularly eager to speak to her, but it’s almost impressive how thoroughly she manages to pretend like you’re fucking invisible. 

“You look really good… have you been working out more?” she adds with a soft laugh, her hand coming up to brush his arm in that same way you’ve always hated. Your fingers twitch where they’re tucked against your own arm, getting the urge to just whack her stupid hand away. 

Jeongguk stiffens just slightly at the contact, his shoulders pulling back a fraction as if on instinct. “Ah… not really.” he says, giving a small, awkward smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I feel like we keep missing each other during evening pick-ups…” Yuna continues, tilting her head playfully. “I don’t see you anymore. It’s kinda disappointing.” she adds with a pout.

You nearly scoff but instead, you settle for rolling your eyes and tightening your arms over your chest as you turn your gaze away from her.

Jeongguk lets out a quiet breath, clearly unsure where to look before his gaze flickers towards you for a second again. “I usually just… pick Yejun up and leave.” he says, rubbing his nape now. “I don’t really stay around much.”

“Oh? That’s such a shame. You should stay a little longer sometimes.” Yuna grins. “It’d be nice to actually talk to you properly.”

He gives a short, awkward laugh at that, shifting his weight slightly. “Yeah umm I… don’t really have the time for that these days.” he says, his tone polite but edged with discomfort, his eyes flicking towards you again but you don’t spare him a single glance. 

Instead, you keep your gaze fixed ahead, letting it skim over your surroundings and just then, the auditorium doors swing open again and a steady stream of people begin to move inside so you take it as the perfect excuse to remove yourself from whatever this is.

“I’m going in.” you say finally, your tone almost bored as you adjust your purse on your shoulder. “You can come when you’re done… catching up, I guess.” you say shooting Jeongguk a sharp look and without waiting for a response, you step forward and walk past them, your heels clicking softly against the ground as you make your way towards the auditorium, slipping into the crowd. 

Jeongguk watches you go, his expression tightening almost instantly as he takes a step forward to follow you. “Y/n, wai—” 

“Jeongguk-ssi, wait.” Yuna says quickly, both her hands wrapping around his bicep before he can move any further and Jeongguk reluctantly stops, his brows drawing together immediately at the contact while his body goes stiff. “We should sit together.” she suggests, her tone excited. “It’ll be more fun that way.” she giggles and Jeongguk blinks at her, clearly caught off guard, his expression shifting into something closer to disbelief than hesitation. “Oh, no, I—”

“Come on.” she interrupts with a soft laugh, her grip tightening around his bicep just slightly. “Wouldn’t it be awkward to sit with your ex-wife?” she adds coyly. Jeongguk’s expression hardens almost immediately at that, his jaw tightening as he glances towards the auditorium again, catching the last glimpse of you disappearing inside.

“Yuna-ssi.” he starts, turning back to face the woman who’s still holding him, his voice polite but noticeably firmer now. He brings his hand up to peel her hands off his arm. “I have to go.”

Yuna’s smile falters at that as her hands hesitantly fall back to her sides but Jeongguk gives her a small, restrained smile, already taking a step back to put some space between them. “We’re both here for Yejun today.” he says. “And I’m pretty sure he’d appreciate it if both his parents were sitting together.” 

And before she can say anything else, he turns and makes his way towards the auditorium, his pace quickening just slightly as he follows the path you took.

Jeongguk weaves through the crowd, his gaze lifting every few seconds as he tries to spot you over the sea of heads filling the auditorium. The place is louder inside, packed with parents settling in and teachers calling out instructions somewhere near the stage. 

He shifts from one foot to the other, clearly impatient as the line ahead of him barely moves, families taking their own sweet time choosing seats. He exhales under his breath, running a hand through his hair before stepping forward again murmuring a quiet “excuse me” here, a slightly more rushed “sorry” there as he squeezes past people. 

His eyes keep scanning, searching, until finally, he spots you seated somewhere in the third row. 

So he starts moving faster, weaving through the remaining rows with a string of hurried “excuse me, sorry, just— thank you” until he finally reaches you and instantly notices the empty seat right beside you.

For a second, he just stands there, catching his breath, his eyes lingering on the empty seat. He tells himself not to read into it, because frankly, it isn’t actually a big deal but still… he’d like to think you saved it for him. 

You don’t look at Jeongguk when he stops beside you. Even though he knows you’ve noticed him, your posture doesn’t change as your gaze stays fixed straight ahead on the stage.

“Uh… hey.” he says under his breath, shifting awkwardly before he clears his throat and slowly lowers himself into the seat beside you, careful not to brush against you, like even that might be crossing a line. “Nice seats.” he tries again, forcing a small, unsure smile as he glances at you, then quickly back at the stage when you don’t return it. “I’m pretty sure Yejun will be able to see us from up there.” he adds with a soft chuckle.

You sit there, arms crossed neatly over your chest and legs crossed at the ankle, your attention fixed ahead like he isn’t even there. Jeongguk shifts slightly in his seat, his hands settling awkwardly on his lap before he rubs his palms together, then stills them again, clearly unsure of what to do with himself. 

He glances at you once more, like he’s debating whether to say something else, whether to try again.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he exhales quietly and leans back just a little, his gaze drifting from the stage to the rest of the auditorium as his fingers continue fidgeting with his camera. His eyes move absentmindedly, until they settle on you once again… more specifically, your legs.

Your skirt has ridden up slightly from how you’re sitting, and he instantly notices the faint goosebumps scattered across your skin, probably due to the cool air coming from the overhead vents.

He hesitates for half a second but before he can think too much of it, he carefully sets his camera down on his lap and shrugs off his fuzzy coat. Without a word, he leans forward just slightly and drapes it over your legs, adjusting it so it sits properly, covering you comfortably. That finally pulls a reaction out of you as your eyes widen, your composure breaking as you look down at the coat, then up at him, absolutely confused. “I don’t need—”

“It’s fine.” he cuts in gently, offering you a small smile. “I was feeling warm anyway.” he shrugs, pursing his lips. It’s a poor excuse… both of you know it, but he doesn’t take it back. Instead, he leans back into his seat again as his gaze returns to the stage and you gulp as you look down at the coat resting over your legs as your fingers brush lightly against the fuzzy fabric.

Eventually, the entire auditorium begins to settle as parents find their seats and teachers move along the aisles, making sure everything is in order and the lights dim gradually. 

A few minutes pass before the curtains part, and the show begins.

A group of slightly older kids finish their performances first, some singing and some dancing while parents around the auditorium laugh softly and clap a little too loudly. A few more acts pass like that, each one a little clumsy, a little off-beat, but so full of effort and earnestness that it makes everything feel impossibly endearing. 

Evebtually, the music shifts to a more funkier tune and a teacher steps forward to announce the next segment. 

The fashion show.

You straighten up almost immediately, knowing this is Yejun’s segment. Your fingers quickly reach for your phone to snap pictures while beside you, Jeongguk already has his camera ready, the record button pressed before the first child even steps onto the stage.

One by one, the children walk onto the stage, dressed in colorful, theme-based handmade costumes, clutching tiny props. 

A few wave far too enthusiastically at the crowd, little hands flapping with excitement as they forget they’re supposed to keep walking. Others take their role very seriously like they’re on a real runway with their chins lifted and shoulders squared. Some are shy, but even then they manage small, nervous smiles that make the audience melt all the same.

And then, finally, it’s Yejun’s turn.

He walks onto the stage with small, careful steps, his outfit the same one you saw earlier, but under the stage lights, it looks even more adorable. 

For a moment, he looks almost too serious, concentrating hard as he walks forward, like he’s determined to get it just right and then he looks up and you can see the exact second his eyes begin scanning the crowd, searching, a little uncertain at first.

Until they land on you and Jeongguk.

His entire face lights up instantly, breaking into the brightest, most cutest smile. 

You don’t even realize you’ve already started taking pictures, your thumb tapping rapidly against the screen. Beside you, Jeongguk lifts his camera slightly higher. “Yejun-ah!” he calls out, his voice warm and almost proud as he flashes his son an enthusiastic thumbs up.

You find yourself lifting your hand too, waving at your son without thinking. 

Yejun beams even wider at that, his steps growing just a little more confident as he reaches the center of the stage. He attempts a spin, a slightly exaggerated one that makes his little feet stumble for a second, his arms flailing just enough to make the audience let out a collective “awww”  before he steadies himself. Undeterred, he plants his feet firmly, places his hands on his hips and lifts his chin just a little too high, clearly convinced he looks incredibly cool. 

It’s so earnest and so ridiculously adorable, that a wave of soft laughter ripples through the auditorium and you laugh too, but it catches somewhere in your chest as you feel your eyes stinging because it suddenly dawns on you that your baby is growing up so fast. 

“He’s so cute.” Jeongguk fondly murmurs beside you but you don’t hear him at first because you’re too busy watching Yejun, too busy trying to memorize everything about this moment before it slips away.

“I still can’t believe…” Jeongguk starts again, his camera still trained on your son. “That we made something so perfect like him.”

At that, your finger pauses mid-tap on your phone screen, your gaze flickering towards him for just a second. There’s something in his expression, something soft and almost disbelieving, like he’s seeing Yejun for the first time all over again. 

“Yeah.” you breathe out with a tender smile as your eyes drift back to the stage, to your son. “At least, we did something right, didn’t we?” 

Jeongguk doesn’t reply to that. Instead, his eyes linger on you, on the delicate curve of your smile, on the way your expression softens when you look at Yejun. 

He wishes you hadn’t said it like that.

At least.

As if that’s all there was… as if everything the two of you had been, everything you had built together, could be reduced to just one thing that survived.

//

“Mama!! Daddy!!” Yejun calls out as he comes running out into the courtyard, his small hand slipping free from his teacher’s grasp the second he spots the two of you.

It’s much darker now as the late evening air brushes past you. Parents linger in small groups, some chatting, some crouched down to greet their children who are promptly dropped off by their respective teachers. 

Yejun’s still in his costume, though the headband is gone now and the faint smudges of face paint on his cheeks look like they’ve been hurriedly wiped away, leaving behind soft streaks that only make him look even more endearing.

“Did you see me?” he asks breathlessly the second he reaches you, practically bouncing on his feet as he looks up. You’re already crouching down before he even finishes the sentence while behind you, his teacher exchanges a few words with Jeongguk, smiling as she mentions how excited Yejun had been to find the teo of you in the crowd. 

“You were amazing, bug.” you say, your hands immediately finding his little shoulders as you pull him closer to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “You were the best one up there, you know that?”

Yejun giggles at that, his nose scrunching slightly as he leans into you without hesitation. “Mama and Daddy couldn’t stop watching you.” you continue, your fingers slipping to his sides as you give him a light tickle. “We were so, so proud of you.”

He lets out a burst of giggles, squirming in your hold as he tries to wiggle away, only to end up leaning right back into you again as his small hands clutch onto your sleeves. “Did you see my spin?” he asks with wide eyes, his words tumbling over each other. “I almost fell, but I didn’t!”

“Oh really?” you laugh softly, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “I barely even noticed. Maybe you just recovered like a pro.”

Yejun beams at that, his little chest puffing up with pride, clearly taking your words very seriously. 

“That’s right, buddy.” Jeongguk finally joins in as the teacher excuses herself and steps away. He crouches down right beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost brush. “You were amazing, Jun. Daddy got the whole thing on camera. Every second of it.” he smiles, making Yejun’s eyes light up instantly, his excitement somehow doubling as he looks between the two of you, practically glowing under all the attention.

Soon enough, your son slips his small hands into both yours and Jeongguk’s, naturally placing himself right in the middle as the three of you begin walking out of the crowded courtyard. 

He swings both your arms a little as he walks, his steps turning bouncy as he immediately launches into a story he’s been dying to share. “Mama, you know what happened today?” he starts, looking up at you and then at Jeongguk, making sure he has both of your attention before continuing.

“What happened?” you ask gently. “We all got stickers from Miss Han so that we can be brave before going on stage…” he begins. “I got a shiny star. It was really big… and glittery.”

Jeongguk hums softly, smiling as the three of you continue walking.

“But then…” Yejun continues. “Minjae didn’t get a star. He got a smiley one… but I think he liked mine more.” he explains. “So even though he didn’t ask… I told him we could trade and I gave him my star… and I took the smiley sticker instead.”

“Aw baby, you gave him your star?” you ask and Yejun nods, proudly. “Yeah, because he looked a little sad…” he says, his little shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “And Miss Han said all the stickers are for being brave anyway… so it didn’t matter which one I had.” He pauses for a second. “I just wanted Minjae to feel happy.”

For a brief moment, both you and Jeongguk glance at each other. “Hey…” Jeongguk says gently, looking back at Yejun. “That was really kind of you, buddy.”

Yejun beams instantly at the praise, his steps turning even bouncier as he swings both your hands again.“I just did what you and Mama do.” he says proudly, and for a second both you and Jeongguk look at him with furrowed brows, a little confused. “What do we do, Jun?” Jeongguk asks.

“Like when we order fried chicken and you give Mama all the drumsticks because she likes them more.” he says, glancing up at Jeongguk before turning to look up at  you. “And when we order pizza, you always give Daddy the slices with more cheese and pepperoni because he likes those the best.” he adds, tilting his head. 

Both of your steps slow down as you take in your son’s words. 

“You both always give the better things to each other… without even asking.” he finishes, squeezing both your hands a little tighter. “So I did that too because I wanted Minjae to feel happy.” 

And just like that, your heart feels like it’s been pulled apart and put back together in a completely different way because there’s something almost disarming about how much children notice, how they gather meaning from the smallest, most insignificant moments. What feels incidental to you becomes foundational to them. What you do absentmindedly, they remember with intention.

Children don’t understand love in the way adults try to define it, but they recognize it in its purest form. They see it in the little exchanges, in the unconscious generosity, in the way care reveals itself without ever needing to announce its presence. 

And somehow, without ever being taught, they learn that this is what love looks like.

Before you or Jeongguk can even gather yourselves enough to respond, Yejun is already speaking again. “I miss eating together though…” he confesses, his voice much softer now as the three of you finally come to a stop near the school gates, where the crowd has noticeably thinned out.

“Like… all of us…” he adds, tilting his head up to look at the both of you, his grip on your hands tightening just a little. “At the table… when we share.. and when Daddy would make funny faces when Mama wasn’t looking…” he continues, with a little grin as he looks at Jeongguk. “Like… he’d puff his cheeks and cross his eyes at me like this…” he demonstrates poorly, his tiny face scrunching in an attempt to recreate it. “And then I’d laugh and Mama would be like, ‘what happened?’” he giggles. 

There’s a small pause again as Yejun lets out a tiny breath. “Can we do that again, Mama?” he asks, his voice careful in a way that shouldn’t belong to someone his age. “I was good today, right…?” His fingers tighten around yours, just a little. “So… can we do that again?” he continues, looking up at you with so much hope in his sparkly eyes. “Can we have dinner, tonight? All three of us… together.”

The minute the words leave his mouth, you feel your heart splintering. It’s the way he says them, the way he asks like it’s something he has to earn… like it’s supposed to be a reward for being good. 

Jeongguk snaps his head towards you almost instantly, but you don’t look at him as your eyes stay on Yejun.

You had prepared yourself for the divorce to be difficult. You had told yourself it would hurt… that it would hurt Jeongguk. You had prepared for the endless nights spent convincing yourself that leaving first was somehow safer than waiting around to be left behind.

After the divorce, everything was divided into arrangements and co-parenting schedules that were meant to make things easier and there were barely any moments where the three of you existed in the same space for more than an hour at most. 

You and Jeongguk simply learned for 6 long months how to coexist around Yejun without ever really being together anymore but somewhere in that separation, you hadn’t realized what it must feel like for your son.

His world hadn’t just changed, it had been split into parts he didn’t know how to put back together. There was no language for it, no explanation that could make sense to him… only the confusion of why something that used to be whole, now comes to him in pieces.

And now here he is, trying to glue it back all together, in his own little.

Not with questions or with complaints, but with a small, hopeful request, held out in both his tiny little hands like something he has to beg for, like something he can earn by being good, like something as simple as behaving well might be enough to bring both his parents back to the same table again.

You feel the guilt surging through your veins as you continue staring down at him. It isn’t just regret, it’s the realization that your fear, your need to protect yourself from a heartbreak you hadn’t even faced yet, had created a different kind of hurt for someone who never asked for it. 

“Can we, Mama?” Yejun asks again, snapping you back to reality and for a second, all you can do is gulp down the lump in your throat and press your lips together before forcing out a small smile. “Of course, bug.” you say softly. “Of course we can.”

Yejun’s face lights up instantly, like the answer alone is enough to fix something inside him and only then do you lift your gaze up to Jeongguk who’s already looking at you. “Is that… “ you hesitate. “...okay with you?”

Jeongguk’s brows pull together slightly, like the idea that he would say no to something like this, doesn’t even make sense to him. He glances down at Yejun, who’s already looking between the two of you with barely contained excitement.

“Of course it is.” 

//

According to the initial plan, Yejun was meant to stay with you for the next few days anyway, right up until the end of the week. 

When he asked for dinner together, both you and Jeongguk had instinctively suggested going out, offering up the idea of a nice restaurant but Yejun had simply shaken his head and said he wanted to go home and not just that. He wanted fried chicken too.

And neither you nor Jeongguk could question it or have the heart to deny him because both of you understood that this wasn't really about the food anyway. So that’s how, right now, Jeongguk finds himself easing his car into the underground garage of your penthouse building with you in the passenger seat and Yejun in the back, strapped to his car seat.

“You mind ordering the chicken…” you say, glancing back at Jeongguk as the three of you step inside. “I’ll go bathe him.”

“Oh yeah…” Jeongguk nods quickly. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.” he says, shrugging off his coat. Yejun tugs at your hand immediately, leading you down the hallway as he starts rambling about how he wants “extra crispy” and “the one with the sauce Daddy likes” and Jeongguk just stands there for a second, watching the two of you disappear down the hallway, with a soft smile he can’t really hide. 

About 40 minutes later, you stand in front of the mirror in your nightgown with the robe hanging loosely over your shoulders, running the brush through your hair and by the time you step out, Yejun is already at the table, his hair still a little damp from the bath you gave him. He’s dressed in his turtle themed pajamas and his little legs swing under the table while Jeongguk stands nearby, carefully setting the plates and you don’t miss the three boxes of fried chicken sitting right in the middle. 

The second Yejun spots you, his whole face lights up. “Mama, mama come fast, the chicken is here!” he calls out, practically bouncing on his chair as he waves you over.

Jeongguk’s head snaps up at his son’s voice and the moment his eyes land on you, he’s convinced he’s forgotten the mechanical basics of human respiration because, oxygen? Yeah, he’s never heard of her.

He’s always had a dangerous weakness for your post-shower state… that dewy glow that literally makes you look like something out of a dream… and then there’s those godforsaken nightgowns and silk robes Jeongguk has come to hate after the divorce, because back when he actually had "unrestricted access", dealing with them was a sport because he vividly remembers the satisfaction of pulling you close and using his teeth to slide that robe and those silk straps down your shoulders… but now? Now that those straps are strictly “look-but-don't-touch” territory, he’s basically forced to stay in the trenches. 

You’re completely oblivious to the way Jeongguk’s gaze is practically scorching the air between you as you glide towards the table and pull out the chair directly across from Yejun.

God, his son is sitting right there, while Jeongguk’s thoughts are drifting into dangerous territory, imagining a version of this very moment where Yejun isn’t present and he could just push all these plates aside, hoist you onto the table and feel your thighs wrap around his waist.

He’s staring at the curve of your neck, remembering the exact taste of your skin when you’re all flushed and breathless, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and reclaim what used to be his right then and there.

“Daddy, the chicken’s gonna get cold!” Yejun whines, breaking Jeongguk’s trance and snapping him back to the present. “Right.” he breathes out, more to himself than anything, as he finally pulls out the chair and sits down beside Yejun.

The moment he opens the boxes, Yejun leans forward immediately, practically vibrating with anticipation as he peers into the box. You smile at the sight and just when you’re about to reach forward, fingers already moving to pick out a piece for him, Jeongguk beats you to it, but he doesn’t serve Yejun first, instead he serves you, placing a piece on your plate.

A drumstick.

You look up at him immediately, a little caught off guard, even though it isn’t exactly unfamiliar. If anything, it’s too familiar and now it’s almost impossible to ignore especially with the way your son had just spoken about specifically this earlier. 

Jeongguk doesn’t meet your eyes because he’s already looking away and reaching back into the box to pick out another piece that he places onto Yejun’s plate next. “Careful, it’s still hot.” he says, gently nudging Yejun’s hand away from grabbing it too quickly, and the little boy simply huffs a little in protest but listens anyway. 

Eventually, the three of you begin eating and Yejun talks through most of the meal, barely pausing between bites, his words tumbling over each other as he recounts yet another story from his day.

You listen, smiling softly, occasionally reacting at the right moments, while Jeongguk sits beside him, carefully separating the meat from the bones, making sure there’s nothing sharp or messy left before placing small portions onto Yejun’s plate and every now and then, he nudges a piece closer to him or reminds him to slow down.

For a brief, fragile moment, it feels like nothing has changed… like this is still what your evenings look like, sitting across from each other, laughing at the same silly things your son says and it’s all so so so familiar it almost tricks you into forgetting the state of how things are now. 

Almost.

Once the plates are cleared, Yejun wastes no time, dragging Jeongguk towards his bedroom, wanting his father to read his nightly bedtime story tonight and Jeongguk, powerless against his son’s pout, offers a soft smile that says he wouldn't be anywhere else.

You retreat to the living room, seeking refuge in a glass of wine as you decide to go through your emails for a bit when Jeongguk finally steps out from your son’s room and you look over your shoulder, immediately setting your glass and laptop down on the coffee table and stand up, smoothing out your nightgown.

“He’s out like a log.” Jeongguk chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks a little closer. “Didn’t even make it past the part where Max tames the wild things this time… I think the day finally caught up to him.”

You hum softly, nodding as you fold your arms loosely across your chest, offering him a small, tight smile which Jeongguk mirrors almost unconsciously and before either of you can even process it, you’re both just… standing there.

Facing each other.

With nothing to say.

The silence stretches between you and it’s funny because 6 months should have made this easier but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s only made you both more aware of how to exist around each other without crossing any invisible lines.

You glance towards the kitchen for no real reason, while Jeongguk shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His fingers brush against the fabric of his jeans, fidgeting slightly, like he doesn’t quite know where to place his hands anymore.

These kinds of moments have always been awkward over the past few months, but you had learned how to handle them. You’d learned how to recover quickly, how to keep your expression composed, your tone even, your distance intact. You’d gotten good at not letting Jeongguk see it, at not letting him feel the vulnerability, the hesitation, the heartache that lingers underneath.

But tonight… feels different.

You’re not sure what it is exactly. Maybe it was the way he had draped his coat over your legs or the way Yejun had unknowingly held up a mirror to something you’d been trying not to look at too closely. 

Maybe it was sitting across from Jeongguk again, at the same table, sharing a meal with Yejun like you used to, like nothing had ever broken in the first place or maybe it was something as small as the drumstick he placed on your plate just like he used to.

Whatever it was, you can’t quite put your finger on it. You just know that something in you feels… different tonight. Like the walls you’ve carefully built over the past months have started to crack and it’s unsettling because for the first time in a long while, you don’t feel in control of it.

When the silence stretches just a little too long to ignore, both of you speak at the same time.

“—So—”

You stop, he stops and a quiet, awkward breath leaves both of you almost in sync.

“You… you go.” Jeongguk mutters, giving a small nod towards you as he presses his lips together. “No, it’s fine.” you shake your head quickly. “I just—” You pause, the words catching somewhere halfway, before you realize there isn’t really anything meaningful to dress this up with. “So…” you try again, your voice a little steadier this time. “You’ll pick him up on Sunday, right?”

Jeongguk blinks, like he hadn’t expected that to be the thing you chose to say. “Oh… yeah, definitely.” he nods. “Around 10’s okay? I was thinking of taking him fishing with the guys.”

“Oh um… yeah, that sounds good.” you nod because you know how much Yejun loved those little outings and how he got to trail behind Jeongguk and his friends, calling them all “uncles” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Just… keep an eye on him, okay? He gets a little too excited near the water.” you say, despite knowing how responsible Jeongguk is when it comes to your son. “I know.” he chuckles, glancing down briefly before looking back at you. “I’ll keep him close, don’t worry.” There’s a small pause after that and this time, it’s not exactly uncomfortable, but not exactly easy either. “Maybe I’ll send you a picture.” he adds after a beat. “If he catches something. Or… even if he doesn’t, honestly.”

You nod, your fingers tightening slightly against your arms. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, the moment dips again into silence before Jeongguk clears his throat lightly. “Right then…” he breathes out, raking his fingers through his hair. “I should probably head out. It’s getting pretty late.”

You purse your lips at that, before forcing yourself to nod and he gives you a lingering look before turning towards the front door.

You don’t usually follow him. Most days, you keep your distance, but tonight… your feet move before you can really think about it and you trail after him slowly, stopping near the entryway as he reaches for his coat. 

He slips it on, adjusting the collar absentmindedly, before turning back to face you. “Tonight…” he starts as you look up to meet his eyes. “It was nice.” he says and you don’t miss the faint smile on his lips as the words leave his mouth. “Haven’t seen Yejun that happy in a while.” he admits and to that you nod, because you’ve been thinking the same thing all evening. “Yeah.” you breathe out. “Me neither.”

Jeongguk inhales slowly, then lets it out before adjusting his coat again. “Anyways… I’ll see you.” he says, turning back towards the door and just when his fingers reach for the doorknob, your lips are already moving. “Text me when you reach.” the words slip out and you freeze almost instantly as they echo back to you.

You haven’t said something like that in a long time, especially not after the divorce since your texts with Jeongguk were limited to co-parenting schedules, school updates and photos of Yejun. 

Jeongguk stills at your words before slowly looking at you over his shoulder. There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes, and then, just as quickly, he reins it in as a small, lopsided smile pulls at his lips. “Alright.” he breathes out letting his gaze linger on you for a few seconds. “Goodnight, Y/N.” he finally says , slowly twisting the door knob, with his head still turned towards you. 

He hesitates before vaguely gesturing towards the living room, where your laptop still glows on the coffee table. “Don’t stay up too late.” he adds and before you can nod, he’s gone.

//

“…and if we look at the high jewelry segment, the average spend per client has increased by nearly 18% this quarter.” Rowoon, your senior brand strategist, explains, as he gestures towards the screen where the slide shifts seamlessly, revealing a spread of numbers layered over charts, alongside close-up visuals of intricate pieces. 

“Particularly within custom diamond sets and rare stone acquisitions, we’re seeing a clear shift towards more exclusive, one-of-a-kind commissions…” he goes on, glancing briefly around the room to ensure everyone’s following.

At the far end of the conference table, you sit with your back straight and fingers lightly pressed against the surface, trying your very best to stay focused but the numbers and the graphs blur before your eyes, no matter how hard you blink them back into place. Your brows knit together faintly as you try to steady your gaze, but it doesn’t help because it’s impossible to ignore the dull heaviness behind your eyes.

You shift slightly in your seat, fingers coming up to tug at the collar of your blouse, like that can somehow ease the discomfort pressing against your skin and you inhale quietly, blinking your eyes again. 

Focus.

“If we maintain this trajectory, our top-tier clientele alone could account for over 40% of total revenue by the end of the year.” Rowoon adds, as he looks across the table at all the department heads, analysts, senior associates and everyone else who all seem to be taking notes, following along.

From her seat positioned diagonally across from yours, Haeun nods along, fingers moving swiftly across her tablet as she keeps up with the ongoing presentation before her eyes absently flicks towards you. She instantly catches the way you’re sitting a little too stiff, desperately trying to focus and her eyes don't miss the subtle sheen of sweat on your temples and along your neck. 

Her fingers still over her screen and her eyes instantly shift towards Rowoon and it’s perfectly timed as he instantly catches the signal and his voice trails off, stopping mid sentence before following Haeun’s line of sight, landing on you.

Haeun leans forward slightly. “Ms. Min.” she calls out, gently drawing your attention to her as everyone around the room looks at you. “Would you prefer that we pause here and reconvene later?”

Her words instantly make you realise just how out of it you've been and you quickly exhale, closing your eyes for a brief second to steady yourself. When you open them again, you’re acutely aware of the silence in the room and the way everyone’s looking at you. 

“No.” you say, shaking your head lightly. “Please continue.” There’s a small pause before you glance towards Haeun again. “I’ll step out for a bit.” you add, more quietly. “Could you share the minutes with me afterward? I’ll review everything once I’m back.”

“Of course.” Haeun nods without hesitation though you can still see the concern in her eyes. “I’ll make sure to send you everything.”

You give a small nod in return before pushing your chair back and Rowoon straightens almost instinctively, offering you a respectful nod as you rise, and one by one, the rest of the room follows suit before you finally step out.

You’ve been feeling like this for the past few days.  

You weren’t entirely sure what to blame it on. Maybe it was the stress from your work with all the endless meetings, agonizing conference calls or that frantic 2-day work trip to Tokyo earlier this week. Or maybe it was just the lack of sleep. The pills hadn’t been kicking in lately and on the rare occasions they actually managed to drag you under, the same nightmares would wake you right up. 

Then there was the food situation, or lack thereof. Half the time you forgot to eat because your schedule was a tyrant and the other half, your stomach decided to skip straight to nausea before hunger could even introduce itself. It had gotten so bad that you’d actually given your cook, Junhee, a paid vacation because it felt entirely too criminal to watch her beautifully prepared meals go completely untouched day after day. You only ever called her back into service when Yejun was staying with you, mostly because you knew your son couldn't survive on black coffee and your nonexistent culinary skills, which usually peaked at burning toast.

Your knees feel wobbly as you make the long trek back to your office, passing a handful of employees who bow respectfully as you walk by. Usually, you’d offer a polite nod, but today, just keeping your spine straight takes every ounce of energy your body has left.

The moment you step inside your office, you shut the door close and practically lunge for the thermostat, cranking the AC down to its absolute lowest setting, desperate for the cool air to shock your system but even as the cool air begins to fill your office, it does nothing to reduce the feverish heat trapped beneath your skin and it almost feels like trying to put out a house fire with a water gun.

With an irritated breath, you tug at your collar again and reach for the claw clip sitting on the edge of your desk. You twist your hair up messily, clipping it back just to get the strands off your neck.

Then you walk towards the deep leather couch on the other end of your office and hastilyslip your heels off, letting them clatter onto the hardwood floor before plopping yourself down and sinking into the cushions as you throw your forearm over your eyes.

A few seconds of absolute silence pass just like that as you lie there, listening to the steady hum of the AC blasting a freezing gale over your body but it doesn't last long when your phone suddenly vibrates making you let out a soft sigh, every fiber of your being wanting to ignore it, but you still find yourself reaching into your pocket and pulling your phone out to check the message you just received. 

[5:24 PM] Jeongguk: Just picked up Jun from daycare.

[5:24 PM] Jeongguk: I know I was supposed to drop him off at your place tonight, but we just got this last minute coffee truck order for a movie set nearby, so I might have to stay back late and help prep everything.  

Just as you finish reading his messages, another one pops up. 

[5:25 PM] Jeongguk: Any chance you could swing by the cafe and pick him up from here instead? He's already asking for you.

//

While Jimin and the rest of the part-timers handle the hectic evening rush at the front of the cafe, Jeongguk stays in the back kitchen, his sleeves rolled up his forearms as he preps a massive batch of brioche dough for the coffee truck order. 

Once the dough is tucked away to rise, he checks on the fresh batch of lemon blueberry scones he had put in the oven earlier. He pulls them out, transfers them on a cooling tray and steps out into the main cafe, sliding the fresh bakes into the glass display case to refill what the afternoon crowd had wiped out.

He stands up straight once he’s done and his eyes naturally wander to the corner table of the crowded cafe where his son is seated, entirely absorbed in his coloring book. Jeongguk smiles, absently wiping his hands on his apron as he walks over to Yejun.

Yejun doesn’t look away from his drawing as Jeongguk slides into the chair beside him, taking a moment to just breathe while the cafe continues to bustle around them. He pulls out his phone to double-check if he missed any important notifications as it had been a little while since you replied with a quick "Be there in 20" to his texts. 

He shoves his phone back into his pocket before affectionately ruffling his son’s hair only to earn a soft grumble from Yejun as the boy swats weakly at his hand before returning to his coloring without much care. Jeongguk huffs out a chuckle before absentmindedly looking towards the large glass storefront just in time to catch your car pulling up smoothly along the curb outside with Mr. Choi seated behind the wheel.

His lips part into a soft smile as he starts to rise from his seat, watching you open the back door to step out. Jeongguk is literally opening his mouth to tell Yejun that his mama is finally here, but just then he sees you stumble on your feet slightly as your hand blindly reaches out to grip the roof of the car for leverage and the words die in his throat. 

He furrows his brows, about to move from his spot and step out of the cafe when suddenly he sees your hand slip from the metal as your knees buckle completely, and you collapse onto the hard sidewalk. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen in sheer terror and for a second, he forgets about everything else as he bolts straight towards the entrance, throwing the heavy glass door open with enough force to rattle the frame.

By the time he hits the pavement, Mr. Choi is also stepping out of the car, his face pale with shock. Jeongguk drops to his knees into the space beside you, sweeping your shoulders off the cold concrete while he cradles your head against his chest.

"Y/n? Hey.” he calls out, tapping your cheek, desperate for even a flutter of your eyelids, but you remain completely unresponsive and a small crowd of concerned pedestrians begins to form on the sidewalk while Mr. Choi hovers over the scene, terrified at the way you barely move. 

“Y/n… hey, Y/n.” Jeongguk tries again, his voice edged with panic as he gently pats your cheek. “Do you hear me?” he asks and only then does it register to him how fragile you feel in his arms. Your body feels far too limp, your lips are nearly colorless and your skin looks so pale. 

"Let… let me call an ambulance.” Mr. Choi fumbles, his fingers slipping against the screen of his phone as he desperately tries to dial.

The commotion draws Jimin outside, letting the part timers take over the cafe for a bit and the second he steps out, his eyes expand in horror as he takes in the sight of you limp in Jeongguk’s arms. "Gguk, holy shit… what… what happened?"

"Hyung, I…I don’t know, she just collapsed." Jeongguk’s voice cracks, but he’s already shifting his weight, carefully hooking one arm beneath your knees to lift you off the ground. 

“I…” he starts, finally looking up at Jimin with pleading eyes. "I’ll take her to the hospital myself, it’ll be faster.” he says quickly glancing towards Mr. Choi who nods. “And hyung…” he breathes out looking back at Jimin. “Can you please just… just watch Yejun? Don't let him see her like this. Just... please, hyung."

Jimin is already nodding at his words. “Absolutely Gguk… Don’t worry about anything here, just get her to the hospital ASAP, okay? I've got Jun."

//

— please drop a like, reblog or comment !! it would make me feel motivated and i would to love to hear your thoughts <3

<-part 1 // part 3 ->

series masterlist

series taglist in reblog !!

//

part 1

The pointed heels of your louboutins click against the polished marble and almost instantly the conversations around the room falter. 

One by one, heads turn in your direction. Some guests watch openly, others more discreetly, but all of them seem to be hoping for the same thing… a glance, a nod, any small acknowledgment that you’ve noticed them. 

But your gaze remains fixed only on the stage ahead, your expression composed with a hint of the faintest smile playing on your lips. The deep ruby shade and the stones embroidered all over the fabric of your dress catches the light with every step you take down the hall. 

The Valerra pop-up store, your largest and most anticipated showcase to date, was in full swing. 

Every detail had been curated to perfection, not just to display jewelry, but to immerse every guest into the world you’d built and tonight, the world was drenched entirely in ruby.

Tall glass display cases stand in clean, symmetrical lines, stretching across the room with each case illuminated from within, casting a soft glow that contrasts beautifully against the deep red hues surrounding it.

The jewelry inside looks less like products and more like pieces of art.

Diamond necklaces rest against velvet cushions in rich crimson tones, each stone catching the light in subtle flashes that seem to follow you as you pass by, rings arranged neatly, spaced just enough to give each one its own presence and bracelets curved over sculpted stands draped in red silk, their polished surfaces gleaming under the lights as they reflect soft ripples of gold and silver across the glass.

Above it all, grand chandeliers hang low with their crystals refracting warm light while cascading red drapes frame the venue, flowing effortlessly from the ceiling like liquid silk as fresh roses in deep scarlet arrangements adorn every corner with other pieces of luxury decor you had picked out yourself. 

To your left, a string quartet plays, the soft music weaving seamlessly into the low hum of conversations and the occasional clink of champagne glasses. Waiters move through the crowd with silver trays balanced in their hands as they offer crystal flutes of champagne and curated hors d’oeuvres.

Haeun, your assistant, follows just a step behind you. Close enough to intervene if necessary, yet distant enough to remain invisible to everyone else. Her expression stays perfectly composed, but her sharp eyes miss nothing. 

She tracks the movement of the staff, the positioning of the guests, the subtle hesitation of a waiter who lingers a second too long before approaching a group. She mentally notes which influencers and celebrities have arrived and which haven’t, who was already capturing photos, who needed to be guided closer to the main display for better visibility. 

Nothing slipped past her… nothing ever did.

As you move deeper into the space, the lighting subtly shifts, guiding attention towards the center of the room where the stage stands waiting. It wasn’t extravagant, but it didn’t exactly need to be. Sleek metallic panels framed the backdrop, catching the warm ruby tones of the venue and reflecting them in a way that elevated everything else just the way you wanted it to. At the very center, partially concealed beneath a deep red velvet cloth, was the highlight of the night. 

Your new collection, hidden just enough to build anticipation, to make people wait, to make them want.

The announcer stands poised on the stage, dressed in a custom-made, shimmering gown designed by your dear friend Kim Taehyung, created exclusively to align with the vision you had carried for this evening in your head for months.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” Her voice cuts cleanly through the room, drawing attention back to the stage. “Please join me in welcoming the visionary behind tonight’s showcase.”

Guests gathered near the stage instinctively step aside as you approach, creating a clear path without needing to be asked.

“The mind behind the brand… the force redefining modern luxury…”

Your heels meet the first step leading up to the stage and behind you, Haeun comes to a halt because she knew this moment wasn’t hers to manage. It was all yours.

“Please welcome her…” The announcer’s voice lifts as you fully step onto the stage, and just like that, every eye in the room finds you. “Please welcome the founder, creative director and CEO of Valerra… Min Y/n !!!!” she cheers as a loud applause breaks out, filling the space and rising in waves while cameras start flashing.

Now that you were finally standing in front of the entire crowd, you let your smile widen just a fraction as your eyes sweep across the room. Rows of familiar faces, strangers, admirers, people who had followed your work, invested in your name, believed in your vision. They were all here, exactly where they were supposed to be.

And still, you let your gaze linger, just for a second longer than it should have.

Because even though you knew better, even though you had told yourself a hundred times before walking in that he obviously wouldn’t be here, a part of you still searched because… as stupid as it may sound, it was almost instinct, as if somewhere in the crowd, you might catch a glimpse of the one pair of eyes that used to always find you.

You don’t find them… of course you don’t but you look anyway, because sometimes, that’s all you can do.

The applause swells around you while the cameras continue to flash as people lean forward, completely captivated by you, by what you’ve built, by everything you represent in this very moment.

And you stand there, at the center of it all.

Valerra, your life’s work, your relentless pursuit, the very proof that every sacrifice had meant something, had brought you exactly where you were meant to be and this… this was everything you had ever wanted.

And yet, at this point, somehow… it felt like nothing, because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the gnawing emptiness in your chest because he wasn’t here tonight. 

Eventually, the rest of the evening slips past you in a blur.

The unveiling of the new collection became the turning point of the night, as expected. The velvet drape was drawn back slowly, revealing pieces that had only lived in your mind for months before they ever took form. It was everything you had envisioned, and it was being received exactly the way you had hoped.

After that, the night became a sequence of expectations you knew by heart. Conversations, introductions, familiar faces approaching with admiration tucked neatly into rehearsed compliments. Cameras flashed as you posed beside your pieces, beside guests, beside people who wanted to be seen next to you just as much as they wanted to be seen by you. 

You smiled when needed, spoke when required, listened just enough and somehow despite being at the center of it all, it all felt slightly… distant.

When you’re finally left by yourself for a very brief second, you let out a quiet exhale to yourself as your gaze briefly drifts across the room. At a distance, Haeun stands exactly where she needs to be, looking as composed as ever. Her attention never wavers, her focus split between the room in front of her and the updates filtering through her earpiece every now and then.

Everything was under control… Everything always was.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the woman of the hour herself.” A familiar voice suddenly cuts through your thoughts as you instantly turn over your shoulder, and for the first time this evening, you allow yourself a genuine smile. “Tae.” you acknowledge as he inches closer and without hesitation, pulls you into a brief hug. “Look at you…” he chuckles, pulling back as his hands rest lightly on your arms. “I wonder who made you that dress to make you look this stunning.” he grins. 

You let out a small chuckle, tilting your head as you glance down at the gown, your fingers brushing lightly over the rich ruby fabric that hugs your frame perfectly. “I’m glad I went with this…” you admit. “I can’t believe I was actually second-guessing it.” you say looking back up at him. 

“Yeah imagine second guessing me.” he scoffs lightly, feigning offense as he straightens just a little. “That’s bold. Very very bold, Min Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave your face. “I had a vision in my head…” you counter, crossing your arms loosely. “I just… wasn’t sure if this would match it… Like you know how particular I get when it comes to these things…”

Taehyung chuckles at that, shaking his head.“When have I ever not understood your vision?” he cocks up a brow. “I get what you want before you even fully figure it out yourself. Come on, you should know this by now.” 

You giggle softly, playfully rolling your eyes again.

“Anyways…” he breathes out, stepping away just enough to stand beside you now, shoulder to shoulder as both of you face the room. His gaze drifts across the venue, taking in the way people admire what you’ve created. “Looks like this pop-up was a massive success. Everyone seems to love the new collection.”

You hum softly in agreement, nodding with a small smile and somehow Taehyung is quick to notice the way it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly, his eyes fixed on the side profile of your face. You let out a quiet sigh, shaking your head almost instinctively. “It’s nothing… I guess I’m just… exhausted. You know how stressed I was about this.” you explain as you keep your gaze fixed ahead.

Your words don’t even convince yourself and you know damn well that it definitely doesn’t convince the man beside you either. Taehyung presses his lips together slightly, studying you for a brief second before slipping his hands into his pockets. He turns his gaze back to the room, almost mirroring your stance.

A few seconds pass, just enough for the noise of the room to settle between you before he speaks again. “First pop-up store event without him, huh?”

You swallow at his words, like there’s something caught in your throat that refuses to go down and you’re quick to steady the faintest tremble in your lower lip, but you don’t dare turn to look at him. “Yeah.” you breathe out.

“How’s everything been? How… have you been?” he asks gently, after a moment and there’s a pause, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And… how’s Yejun?” he adds, even softer this time.

Your lips tremble again, more noticeable now, and for a brief second you close your eyes, gathering yourself before anything slips through. “Yejun’s fine.” you answer quietly. “He’s… he’s spending the weekend with me.”

It’s a safe answer… a contained one but Taehyung isn’t oblivious to the way you sidestep the rest of his questions, the way your voice only finds certainty when it comes to your son… but he doesn’t push and just like that, a few minutes pass before you’re approached again, this time by a cluster of familiar faces who easily slip into conversation, not just with you but Taehyung as well.

After all, Taehyung wasn’t just anyone. He carried a presence entirely of his own, a name and reputation that stood just as strong as yours. He wasn’t simply accompanying you… he belonged in rooms like this, especially as one of the most influential figures in the fashion world. 

You straighten slightly, your expression falling back into that polished composure as you greet the group, exchanging pleasantries and eventually, the group disperses, replaced by others, then others again, until time almost begins to blur. 

By the time another hour passes, the initial excitement around the venue has somewhat settled. The room is still alive, still buzzing, but your role in it has already been fulfilled.

You turn slightly, your gaze landing on Haeun across the room and she notices immediately, as she always does, quickly making her way over without needing to be called. 

“I think I’ll call it a night.” you say quietly once she’s in front of you. Her brows lift ever so slightly, though she doesn’t question it because she understands. You’ve done everything you needed to do. You showed up, made your presence known, unveiled the new collection, entertained the right people and well… the rest can carry on without you.

“Make sure everything wraps up neatly.” you add. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yes, of course.” she nods, already mentally running through what needs to be handled. You turn to leave, but her voice stops you gently. “Do you want me to call Mr. Choi?” she glances at you, referring to your driver who’s always prepared, always waiting just a call away.

You shake your head lightly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll drive myself tonight.” you assure her. “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch the champagne.” you chuckle and a small smile appears on her lips. “Alright.” she nods, stepping back slightly. “Please get home safely.”

You give her a brief nod in return before she bows her head respectfully, already shifting back into her role as she turns away to oversee the rest of the evening.

And just like that, you step out of the venue, making your way to the private parking and the moment you slip inside your car, you just sit there for a brief second… breathing, like you’re letting the weight of the night catch up to you.

As a few seconds pass, you slowly reach for your phone. The lockscreen lights up in the dim interior as the time reads 9:54 p.m but you barely register it because your eyes are already fixed on the picture, like always. 

Yejun’s small, mischievous smile fills the screen, specks of paint smeared across his nose and cheeks. 

The memory comes back so vividly it almost feels like you’re standing in it again. He was barely 3, freshly introduced to the concept of finger painting at play school. Of course, his fingers seemed to have completely misunderstood the assignment because the paint ended up everywhere… his face, his clothes, somehow even the walls… everywhere except the paper but none of that mattered… not when he was having the time of his life.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips at the memory, and only then do you unlock your phone, scrolling briefly, checking if you’ve missed anything important only to come across a few messages, nothing urgent, nothing that needs you right now at least.

Once you set your phone back down, you close your eyes again, just for a moment. For reasons you don’t quite want to admit, the thought of going back to your apartment doesn’t appeal much to you right now. 

Yes, you left the event early because you wanted to call it a night, but this isn’t the kind of quiet you were looking for… not the kind that waits behind the doors of your empty penthouse.

You don’t want to walk into that kind of stillness, into a home that feels far too big for just one person, where even the quietest sound seems to echo back at you, where memories of the life you once lived, linger like ghosts in every corner. 

And yet, as much as you dread it, you don’t quite have it in you to go anywhere else either. It’s a strange, exhausting contradiction… wanting to be alone, even when you hate the loneliness that comes with it… wanting silence, but not the kind that reminds you of everything that’s missing. 

It doesn’t make sense, but then again, when have you ever been simple enough for it to? So you don’t try to untangle it, you simply just sit with it and then, quietly, you give in as you start the car and without thinking too much about it, you begin driving towards your penthouse, towards a space that’s yours, even if it doesn’t quite feel like it anymore.

//

Jimin reaches up and flips the sign on the glass door from “open” to “close” before turning around to face the now quiet cafe. The late evening rush has long passed, a few chairs sit slightly out of place, crumbs scattered here and there, the faint smell of coffee and baked goods still hanging in the air. 

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, taking in the sight of the part-timers near the counter as they move quickly, wiping down surfaces and stacking up trays, plates and cups. 

His gaze drifts lazily before his eyes land on a small figure hunched over one of the tables by the window on the other side of the cafe and his expression softens instantly, his exhaustion melting into something far more fond as he makes his way over. 

“What’ve you got there, buddy?” he chuckles, gently ruffling the little boy’s hair before pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

Up close, he watches the way Yejun’s tiny fingers grip a red crayon with serious determination, his whole body leaning into the table as he scribbles quickly across the paper. 

“My dream car.” Yejun replies immediately, not even bothering to look up. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, lips slightly parted as he continues dragging the crayon across the sheet of paper.

As Jimin continues to watch the little boy with an adoring smile, he can’t help but notice for the millionth time just how much this baby resembles his father. 

The look Yejun’s got right now reminds Jimin of Jeongguk behind the counter, carefully piping cream onto one of his pastries, usually the strawberry cream choux which is somewhat considered a best seller at their cafe. 

He chuckles to himself as he continues observing Yejun. It’s the same slight furrow in his brows, the same almost stubborn need to get it just right, the same look. 

Just smaller.

“It’s super fast.” Yejun adds suddenly, still focused on his drawing. “Faster than Daddy’s car. And it can fly too… so traffic can’t catch it.”

Jimin lets out a giggle, resting his chin in his hand as he brings his focus to the drawing. The wheels are far too big, the windows are scattered wherever Yejun thinks they belong and somehow, it really does look like it might take off any second.

“Looks pretty cool.” Jimin murmurs, his smile growing just a little fonder and Yejun hums proudly at that, finally glancing up for a split second. “Daddy can sit here.” he says, pointing at a random spot on the paper. “And I’ll drive.”

At that, Jimin raises a brow with a playful pout forming on his lips. “And what about Uncle Chim, huh?” he asks, tapping the table lightly. “No seat for me?”

Yejun pauses, looking back down at his drawing like this is a very serious problem. He squints at the paper, then quickly scribbles another tiny circle somewhere near the edge of the supposed car. “You can sit here.” he decides, nodding firmly. “But you have to be quiet. No talking because I need to focus on driving.”

Jimin lets out a soft, offended gasp before breaking into a grin. “Wow. Not only are you kicking me off to the side, but you’re also silencing me?? I see how it is.” he narrows his eyes but all Yejun does is give him a shy snicker before going back to his drawing. 

Jimin’s smile lingers as he watches the little boy for another moment before his gaze flickers towards the counter. “Where’s your dad?” he asks, brows knitting slightly. Yejun barely hears him, far too invested in perfecting his dream car and Jimin doesn’t really expect an answer anyway. He pats the boy’s head once more before pushing himself up from the chair.

He walks around the counter, past the part timers and pushes through the door into the back kitchen. The low hum of the refrigerator instantly replaces the sounds coming from the cafe and it doesn’t take Jimin long to find who he’s looking for.

Perched on a stool beside one of the steel prep counters with his back turned to Jimin, sits the co-owner of the cafe. From the way he hasn’t even noticed Jimin walking in, it’s obvious he’s far too absorbed in whatever he’s watching on his phone.

Jimin pauses for a second, watching him before he slowly inches closer, his footsteps barely making a sound against the tiled floor. Once he’s right behind him, he slightly leans over, narrowing his eyes to catch a glimpse of the screen over his partner’s shoulder.

“Still keeping tabs on the ex-wife, I see.” he grins. 

A sharp gasp escapes Jeongguk as he instinctively slams his phone against his chest as if that would somehow hide it and whips his head around to face Jimin with wide eyes and a scandalized expression. “What the hell, Hyung!” he breathes out, still trying to steady himself, his grip tightening instinctively around his phone like he’s been caught red-handed.

“Hey, hey… I’m not judging.” Jimin chuckles, lifting both his hands up in mock surrender, though the amusement in his eyes gives him away completely. “It’s the first time you’re not with her at one of those pop-up events. I don’t blame you for feeling like you missed out.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at that, the reaction coming a little too quickly, a little too defensive. He turns away, switching his phone off before dropping it onto the prep counter beside him. “I’m not feeling…. missed out or anything. ” he mutters. “It just… I don’t know… showed up on my feed.” 

The excuse sounds flat even to his own ears, because of course, it didn’t just show up. Especially not with the way his very own fingers had typed out the keywords “Kim Y/n. Valerra pop-up store.” in the search bar almost out of habit… a habit that hadn’t left him. 

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that within seconds of typing those words into the search bar, his screen would be filled with nothing but you. Fragments of the night from a hundred different angles, paparazzi clips catching you mid-step, influencers zooming in on your dress, celebrities posting glimpses of the event along with pictures where they’re all posing with you. 

Anything that would let him catch even the smallest glimpse of you.

And he had watched it all… more than once, more than he should have. Long enough for the details to settle into him in ways he couldn’t shake off like the dress that hugged you perfectly, the way you carried yourself, the way you smiled at people who weren’t him.

And truthfully, it shouldn’t have mattered, not after all this time… not after six months, to be precise.

But unfortunately for Jeongguk, it did.

Jimin watches him quietly, reading him far too easily. He knows exactly where Jeongguk’s mind has gone, what he’s been sitting with, what he’s trying to brush off like it doesn’t weigh on him but he doesn’t call him out on it. He knows it isn’t necessary because sometimes… some things don’t need to be said out loud to be understood.

All he can really do is sympathize and maybe soften it a little with just some light hearted teasing here and there. 

“Fine…” Jeongguk exhales. “I searched it up, okay? I was just… curious. It’s the first pop-up thing she’s doing without me and I don’t know… I just…” He pauses, briefly running a hand through his hair. “I was curious, I guess. Just wanted to see how things were going.” He shrugs, like it’s something small, something insignificant.

But Jimin doesn’t miss the slight tremble in his voice and the way the words don’t come out as steady as he wants them to. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Gguk.” he says softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Anyways… did you book your flight to Jeju?” Jimin asks, arms folding loosely over his chest as he leans back, clearly attempting to steer the conversation somewhere else. However, it doesn’t work… if anything, the question only makes Jeongguk sigh louder. “Yeah.” he still answers. “I did… Last night.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker over his face almost immediately, not missing the loud sigh and the way his jaw tightens. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly, though he might already have a rough idea. “I don’t even wanna go.” Jeongguk admits with a bitter laugh as his gaze drops to the floor for a second. “I think the last place I should be in right now is someone else’s wedding… when my own marriage didn’t even survive.” 

Jimin exhales, an awkward chuckle slipping out as he shakes his head. “Gguk… you’re literally Hobi hyung’s best man.”

“Yeah, and she’s Bomi’s maid of honor !!” Jeongguk snaps back almost instantly, his head lifting to meet Jimin’s eyes as the frustration finally shows in full. “And we have to walk down the aisle together…” he continues, dragging a hand harshly down his face before letting out a short, incredulous laugh and shaking his head because this entire situation is just sooo fucking ridiculous. “Like actually walk down the aisle…” he repeats, slower this time. “Side by side…. in front of everyone.” His lips press into a thin line before he scoffs quietly. “Like yeah, sure, There’s nothing weird about that at all. Just me and my ex-wife, playing happy for someone else’s wedding like our own didn’t completely fall apart.”

Jimin presses his lips together as he takes that in and for a second, he doesn’t say anything, because yeah… there’s no good way to spin that.

“I get it.” Jimin says finally. “But you’re Hoseok’s best friend and she’s Bomi’s.” he states. “You both agreed to this like 3 months before the divorce…” he shrugs lightly, though there’s sympathy in his eyes. “No one saw this coming, man.” 

Jeongguk exhales quietly, his gaze shifting away again because none of this is new information to him. He already knows all of it, has gone over it in his head more times than he can count, but knowing does nothing to make it any easier. 

Because just the thought of attending a wedding right now, just being there as a guest, is enough to make him feel like throwing up. 

The idea of standing there and watching two people promise each other forever, smile for pictures, raise glasses to love and commitment… it all feels unbearably suffocating when he knows, all too well, how fragile that “promised forever” actually is. He has stood in that exact place before, made those exact promises, believed in them with everything he had and yet somehow, it still hadn’t been enough.

And the worst part is, he doesn’t even have the luxury of fading into the background for this particular wedding. He can’t sit this one out with some half-hearted excuse about being busy or unwell because he isn’t just another face in the crowd… he’s literally the groom’s best man. 

He has a role to play, a place to stand, words to say, a smile to wear whether he feels like it or not.

Often times, when you’re in a long term relationship with someone, your circles overlap, your worlds intertwine until it’s impossible to separate one from the other. Friends become mutual, memories become shared and suddenly, even after everything ends, you’re still tied together in places you didn’t even think would blow up right in your face after everything’s over. 

Hoseok had been one of Jeongguk’s closest friends since college, the kind of friend who had stayed constant through years of growing up, through some very questionable decisions, through endless late-night conversations and through every version of Jeongguk that existed before he became the man he is now.

Naturally, when Jeongguk started dating you, Hoseok met you too, and somewhere along the way, that connection extended to Bomi, your best friend at a small, casual gathering. It was just one of those in those in-between moments, passing interactions where they were just… there. 

At first, they hadn’t paid much attention to each other beyond polite conversations but somehow, in the middle of the constant overlaps, something had suddenly clicked between them that it almost felt inevitable and by the time your wedding came around, everything had already begun to change, though no one had fully caught onto it yet. 

Jeongguk’s best man, Hoseok and your maid of honor, Bomi were secretly hooking up. 

No one really noticed… not you, not Jeongguk, not the rest of your shared friends until months later, they just randomly announced they were official. 

Jeongguk vividly remembers watching it all happen in real time. You had both been genuinely happy for them because there had been something very special about watching two people you cared about fall into something so natural, something that felt almost meant to be. 

And most of all, it had felt nice, in a strange way, knowing that the two of you had played some small, accidental part in bringing them together.

Back then, Jeongguk had adored them. He had rooted for them without hesitation, teased Hoseok about how whipped he was for this girl and would constantly pester him about when he was going to propose and genuinely looked forward to the day they would finally tie the knot… but now, everything feels different.

Because now, with the roles sort of reversed, with time having shifted things in ways he never saw coming, it’s impossible not to notice the irony of it all. Unlike Hoseok, Jeongguk has a lot of history with the maid of honor of this wedding. 

He feels pathetic for it, truly. It’s his best friend’s wedding in less than 2 months, something that should feel like a celebration, something he should be wholeheartedly happy about but instead, it feels like his heart is still stuck 6 months in the past, still drowning in something it hasn’t quite managed to climb out of. 

The joy he knows he should feel is there somewhere, buried under layers and layers of heartache and it just feels impossible to reach it fully.

Still, he knows none of this is about him.

Hoseok and Bomi don’t deserve to have their special day ruined because of this. They’ve spent months planning this wedding and they had absolutely no idea things would turn out this way when they asked Jeongguk to be the best man and you, the maid of honor. 

So realistically speaking, there’s really no option of bailing out now because that would just be a total dick move on Jeongguk’s part and the last thing Hoseok and Bomi deserve is for their happy day to be tainted by the bitterness of the best man who couldn’t hold onto his own forever.

Jeongguk lets out a quiet sigh again, his shoulders dropping just slightly. He nods once, more to himself than anything, like he’s trying to gather whatever composure he has left. “Anyways… I should head home soon.” he mutters, glancing down at the time on his watch. “Need to get Yejun to bed… cause I have to drop him off early in the morning… at… you know…” his voice trails off and Jimin nods immediately, understanding without needing anything more.

“Go ahead.” he says, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ll wrap things up here.”

Jeongguk hums in acknowledgment, pushing himself up from the stool as he reaches behind to untie his apron. He folds it absentmindedly and sets it aside before grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. Then he heads towards the small staff area tucked at the far end of the back kitchen, the one they used to change and keep their belongings. It’s a simple space with a row of lockers, a narrow bench and a mirror that’s seen better days.

He moves quickly, shrugging into his coat as his fingers work through the buttons. For a second, he pauses, glancing at his reflection. It doesn’t linger long, it never does these days. Then he turns and heads out. 

The moment he steps back into the cafe, his eyes find Yejun almost instantly who’s still seated at the same table he left him at, still completely absorbed in his little sketch and a soft smile takes over his lips before he can even think about it. “Hey, champ.” he calls gently, making his way over. “Ready to head home?”

Yejun looks up at the sound of his father’s voice, his entire face lighting up in an instant. The crayon drops from his hand without a second thought as he nods eagerly with a wide grin stretching across his face. Jeongguk lets out a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle his hair before crouching down to help him gather his things. “Okay, okay, let’s go.” Jeongguk murmurs, before slipping his arms around the boy and lifting him up, settling him comfortably against his side.

Yejun immediately wraps his small arms around Jeongguk’s neck. “Okay Jun, say bye to everyone.” Jeongguk says softly, turning slightly so they’re both facing the counter and Yejun doesn’t need to be told twice.

He waves enthusiastically at the part-timers, his tiny hand moving back and forth with far too much energy for such a small gesture. Then, as if that isn’t enough, he starts blowing exaggerated flying kisses across the cafe, making loud little mwah sounds with each one.

The staff burst into soft laughter, a few of them waving back while others pretend to catch his kisses mid-air. “Ahhhh we’re getting so many today.” Chaewon, one of the part-timers, teases while Jimin, who’s leaning against the back kitchen’s door, crosses his arms with a grin. “Save some for tomorrow, kid.” he calls out.

But Yejun only doubles down, throwing even more kisses, leaning forward dramatically in Jeongguk’s arms as if it’s a full performance. Jeongguk can’t help but laugh softly as he gently steadies his son. “Alright, alright, that’s enough.” he murmurs, though there’s no real strictness in his tone.

After one last, very serious final kiss, Yejun finally settles down like he’s satisfied and Jeongguk finally gives everyone a small nod before walking out of the cafe. Once they make it to the car, Jeongguk opens the back door and carefully helps Yejun into his little car seat. He makes sure the straps sit right, not too tight, not too loose as he adjusts them. 

He closes the door softly before walking around to the driver’s side and sliding in. When the engine hums to life, almost immediately, Yejun’s voice fills the car.

He’s already talking… something about his school friend Haru, about a toy they fought over, about how he won because he was faster. The words tumble out of him in a rush as he moves his hands and shakes his legs animatedly and Jeongguk listens.

He always listens.

Even when he’s tired, even when his mind is somewhere else, he hums at the right moments, nods slightly, glances at him through the mirror, making sure Yejun knows he’s being heard.

When they stop at a signal, the car finally falls into a brief silence and Jeongguk finds himself looking up at Yejun through the rearview mirror again. “You excited to spend the weekend at your mom’s, champ?” he asks softly and he quickly catches the way Yejun’s face lights up instantly as he nods eagerly. “Mama told me she’s taking me somewhere special this weekend!” he chirps, his voice bubbling with excitement as a small giggle escapes him.

“Oh really?” Jeongguk smiles. “Where’s she taking you?” The question comes out easily, but for some reason it instantly leaves a sick bitter taste on his tongue. 

Because he hates this… not the question itself, but what it means.

He hates that he has to ask his own son about you like this. Like you’re just… someone else in his life… like you’re simply “Yejun’s mom” and not the woman who used to be his entire world. 

His wife. 

The person he shared everything with, now reduced to vague updates passed through a 4 year old.

He hates the way this has become normal. The routines of it… packing bags, dropping Yejun off, picking him up again. Weekends split, days divided, time measured in schedules and arrangements instead of something whole.

But even as he hates it, even as that bitter taste on his tongue begins to settle into something that almost feels like poison, even as he can feel his heart splintering beneath it all, at this very moment he keeps his smile intact.

For Yejun.

Because what could a 4 year old possibly do about any of this?

“I don’t know actually…” Yejun admits after a moment. Jeongguk glances at the mirror again before the light turns green, watching the way his son’s brows pinch slightly as he thinks. “She just said it was a special place.” he adds, like that alone is enough to make it exciting.

“Well, I hope you have lots of fun, buddy.” Jeongguk says softly with a smile as he takes a left turn. “So… what do you want Daddy to make for dinner?” he asks, casually changing the topic. 

Yejun hums immediately, like this is a very serious decision that requires proper consideration. His tiny fingers come up to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully and Jeongguk watches him for a second, his smile never leaving his lips. 

“A bulgogi rice bowl!!” Yejun suddenly announces after a few seconds, his face lighting up as if he’s just made the best decision in the world which makes Jeongguk let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Of course.” he murmurs.

God… Yejun was just like his mother. 

Of course the two of you would share the same comfort food… the same favorite dish.

Jeongguk can’t help but think the reason behind this traces back to before Yejun was even born, back to when you were pregnant. 

When everyone kept warning him about odd cravings that would make no sense, about late night demands and sudden aversions, he had prepared himself for all of it. But you had been… different.

You didn’t ask for anything strange, didn’t send him out at odd hours or complain about wanting something he couldn’t find immediately. 

You just kept coming back to one thing. Bulgogi rice bowls… and not just any bulgogi rice bowls, but specifically the ones he used to make. 

Morning, afternoon, late at night when you couldn’t sleep… you would lean against the kitchen counter with your arms crossed or your palm cradling your belly, watching him cook and waiting like it was the only thing that could settle you and he would make it every single time without any hesitation, adjusting the flavors just slightly depending on what you felt like that day, making sure it was perfect before placing it in front of you.

And God… he had loved everything about it. Loved taking care of you like that, loved how something so simple could make you happy, loved how, for those small moments, everything felt right.

Now, as he drives with the memory swirling in his brain, his mind inevitably drifts back to you, like it always does and for some reason, tonight he thinks about the very first time he saw you.

He remembers it like it was yesterday. 

>>

9 years ago

Jeongguk keeps his eyes focused on the latte art forming beneath his hands. The thin stream of milk slowly slips into the espresso, blooming into a soft rosette that he’s made a hundred times before and maybe that’s why his wrist seems to have a mind of its own. 

Around him, the faint hum of the cafe envelopes him…low conversations overlap in soft murmurs and cups clink gently against saucers. Beside him, Jimin pulls a tray of freshly baked blueberry muffins from the oven while a part-timer carefully plates a slice of tiramisu, dusting the top with cocoa for a waiting customer.

Just then, the bell above the door rings, indicating the arrival of a new customer and almost without thinking, Jeongguk looks up like he always does. 

And in that exact moment, everything in him stills. He doesn’t know how it happens or why it happens but he swears the way his chest tightens, the way his breath stops and the way his heart seems to have forgotten its rhythm is nowhere near normal. 

The latte in his hand is long forgotten as his wrist, that apparently had a mind of its own, stops moving, letting the thin stream of milk continue to pour into the espresso, distorting the rosette as it dissolves into something totally unrecognizable but he doesn’t even notice as he just stands there.

He’s heard people talk about it before.

Love at first sight.

He never believed in it because frankly, it never made sense to him. He always thought it was something silly, something people dressed up in pretty words because it sounded romantic enough to believe in because if we’re actually being logical, how could you feel something so intense… so certain, without time, without knowing, without anything to hold onto except a single moment? 

The first sight. 

But right now, as Jeongguk’s eyes stay fixed on the woman dressed in a fitted blouse that’s tucked neatly into a pencil skirt that falls just above her knees, with her hair flowing freely behind her, with a presence and beauty so impossibly hard to ignore, he wonders if what he’s feeling in his chest right now is anything close to love. 

As you step further into the cafe, he feels himself gulp and before the part-timer beside him can step forward to take your order at the counter, Jeongguk moves, blocking the part-timer. 

Jimin notices the sudden movement and his brows lift slightly as he glances at the other staff, but no one says anything as Jeongguk steps up to the counter just as you reach it. 

“Hi.” you say softly as your gaze lifts to the huge menu boards hanging behind him as you scan the options. 

Up close, it’s worse. Or maybe better. Jeongguk can’t really tell.

There’s something about the way the light falls across your face, the way a few loose strands of your hair shift slightly under the cool breeze of the air conditioner, the way your expression changes so subtly as you try to figure out what you want. 

“Can I get a vanilla latte… and…” you pause mid-sentence, taking a small step to the side as your gaze shifts towards the glass display case beside the counter, where rows of pastries and other desserts sit neatly arranged. You lean in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you scan through your options. “Oh and one of those chocolate ganache tarts?” you smile, gesturing lightly towards it as your finger hovers just enough to point it out without touching the glass.

Jeongguk just stands there, looking at you like a fool because if he’s being honest, he didn’t hear a thing you just said. All he can do is just focus on the way your lips move, the shape of your words forming in slow motion and the quiet cadence of your voice reaching him like it’s coming from somewhere just out of reach.

“Excuse me?” you tilt your head at the lack of response from the man behind the counter, a faint crease forming between your brows and that’s what breaks the trance Jeongguk is so stupidly stuck in.

He blinks, snapping himself back into reality as he inhales sharply. “I… I’m sorry.” he stumbles, as he quickly looks down at the register, fingers hovering uncertainly over the keys. “Could you… could you please repeat that?”

He swallows as he hears your order again and forces his attention back to where it should be. But even then, even as he types in your order and tells you to wait by one of the tables for a waiter to come serve you, he can still feel it.

That feeling in his chest.

As Jeongguk watches you make your way towards one of the tables by the window, he barely registers the world around him. A second later, he feels Jimin nudge his shoulder. He turns just slightly, catching the way Jimin is already grinning at him and wiggling his brows in that all-too-knowing way. 

Jeongguk clicks his tongue under his breath, brushing him off without a word, but it does nothing to stop the way his attention drifts right back to you.

The cafe continues moving as it always does and Jeongguk forces himself to fall back into rhythm. His hands move on their own, wiping the counter, adjusting cups, finishing orders… but his eyes… god his eyes keep finding you. 

Again and again.

And despite the effortless beauty you carry, there’s something else that holds his attention even more. You seem… nervous.

It’s subtle, but not enough to miss if someone’s really looking. Your fingers fidget against the edge of the table, tapping lightly before stilling, only to start again moments later. You close your eyes briefly, inhaling as if you’re steadying yourself then nod faintly, like you’re repeating something in your head, like you’re reassuring yourself, like you’re bracing yourself for something.

And Jeongguk really doesn’t want to seem like a creep, though his actions are quite frankly saying something else entirely as his gaze lingers a second longer than it should and for reasons he can’t quite explain, he feels something squeezing in his chest.

Are you waiting for someone? A date, maybe? A blind date, perhaps? It would make sense to be honest… the nervousness, the way you keep glancing towards the door without fully turning your head, the way your posture shifts every few seconds like you can’t quite settle.

And for some reason, he doesn’t like the thought. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t question it either, but it sits there even though he knows he doesn’t have the right to feel this way.

A few minutes pass.

One of the waiters brings your order over, as you thank him softly, but even then, you don’t seem fully present. Your lips move faintly, almost like you’re talking to yourself, rehearsing something under your breath. Your fingers trace absent patterns against the table as you shift in your seat, your nerves refusing to settle.

Jeongguk watches all of it, without meaning to and god only knows how badly he wants to approach you and ask if you’re okay. 

Just then, the cafe door opens again as the usual bell chimes softly but this time, he doesn’t look away from you.

And that’s when he sees two men, dressed sharply in tailored suits approach your table and the moment you notice them, something in you changes and Jeongguk seems to notice it almost immediately. 

You’re on your feet with your hesitation gone, replaced by something far more… confident. You smooth your posture as you extend your hand towards them with a smile.

Once the men accept your handshake with equally polite smiles, they take their seats and Jeongguk finds himself moving before he can think too much about it. He grabs his notepad and walks over, telling himself it’s just part of the job. After all, someone needs to take their orders, right? 

He glances at you briefly before smiling at the men. They quickly state their orders and Jeongguk seems to take his own sweet time with it, his handwriting slower than usual, stretching the moment just enough.

And that’s when he hears you.

“I’m very glad we could finally arrange this.” you say, your gaze fixed on the men ahead. “Thank you both for taking the time to meet with me today.”

Jeongguk pauses, just for a fraction of a second even though he knows he shouldn’t linger, knows he has no reason to stand there any longer than necessary, knows he needs to return back to the counter now, especially if he doesn’t wanna be seen as some creep who’s eavesdropping on his customers but he just can’t help but notice how right now, you don’t seem nervous at all, not even a little. 

The hesitation he had been witnessing just minutes ago is gone and there’s confidence in the way you speak now and… it’s different.

And as he forces himself to tear his gaze away, finally stepping back towards the counter, he realises he wants to see more of you. Not just the version of you that sits poised and confident across that table, not just the one who fidgets with her fingers when she thinks no one is looking, not just the one who closes her eyes for a second too long just to steady herself… he wants to see all of it.

Every side. Every face. Everything in between.

He wants to understand you in a way that goes beyond this fleeting moment, beyond stolen glances and fragments of a conversation that has nothing to do with him. He wants to know what drives you, what steadies you, what makes your voice soften, what makes you laugh, what makes you smile. 

And god, if you would just let him… if you would just give him the smallest chance, he knows, with certainty, that he would do anything to be allowed into that world of yours.

Eventually, he tries to immerse himself back into work. He moves through the cafe, slipping into his routine. He carries trays from table to table, refilling cups before they’re empty, he steps back into the kitchen to check on a fresh batch of donuts, he wipes down counters that are already spotless, aligns stacks of cups that don’t need straightening, adjusts cutlery that no one had disturbed.

Anything to keep his hands occupied, anything to keep his eyes from drifting.

But it doesn’t work, because no matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing, his attention keeps slipping back to you.

Every time he passes your table, he catches fragments of your voice and snippets of your ongoing conversation with the two men. 

“…long-term scalability…”

“…a distinct, independent design identity…”

“…Valerra isn’t just a brand, it’s—”

He doesn’t understand all of it… not really. The pieces don’t come together clearly, not when he’s only catching bits and parts of a conversation that exists far outside his world but he doesn’t need to understand every word to know how important whatever you’re discussing is to you. 

He sees it in the way you speak, in the subtle movements of your hands like you’re shaping your thoughts into something tangible, in the way your eyes don’t waver, in the way your voice carries so much conviction, completely unlike the nervous energy he had witnessed just minutes before.

There’s so much passion there and god help him because he can’t help but find it so incredibly sexy and the funny thing is, he knows how ridiculously absurd and downright creepy that sounds.

If anyone could peer into his thoughts right now, catch even a fraction of what’s running through his mind, they’d probably think he’s lost it a little because how does this even happen? How does a stranger walk into his cafe, sit down, speak to someone that isn’t even him and suddenly occupy this much space in his head? 

He doesn’t even know your name yet, for fucks sake. Not a single, solid thing about you beyond the fragments he’s overheard and the way you carry yourself, and yet… here he is, completely thrown off balance, watching you like you’re something he’s afraid to look away from. 

Like if he blinks, he might miss something he’ll regret missing. It’s absurd, truly, because for a split second he almost swears he can hear something ridiculous in the back of his mind… wedding bells of all things.

He nearly scoffs at himself for it because he just feels sooo foolish standing there and gawking like a loser, letting his attention drift back to you again and again like he has no control over it.

If Jimin were to catch him right now, he just knows he would get decked the fuck out with the way he’s so obviously distracted and unfocused. 

But apart from all that self awareness and disbelief at himself, there’s also something else. He doesn’t know how or why, but there’s some kind of… certainty in his heart, like it’s already decided something for him.

He wants you.

Not in a fleeting, passing way, not in the way you look at someone once and simply move on. No, he wants a chance… an opportunity… the space to step into your world and see if you’d let him stay.

So for the first time in a long while, Jeongguk finds himself doing something he hasn’t done in years. Almost sheepishly he looks up at the ceiling of his cafe and closes his eyes briefly as he sends up a prayer to anything that might be listening… hoping, just hoping, that you’re single and maybe, if he’s lucky enough… willing to give him a chance.

Around 40 minutes pass like that, slipping by without him noticing until eventually, when he glances over again, he sees the three of you standing and almost instantly he wonders if whatever discussion or meeting was going on, is over. 

He sees you extend your hand once more as you shake theirs, followed by a brief exchange, a final nod, and then the men turn around and walk towards the door to leave. 

And just like that, you’re alone again.

Jeongguk watches as you slowly sit back down and there’s a pause. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and he immediately notices the slow breath you let out and the way your shoulders drop ever so slightly. 

And then, it happens.

The most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.

It breaks across your face so suddenly, so brightly, that it almost catches him off guard, like a flash of sunlight he wasn’t prepared for. For a second, he just stands there, completely still, as if his body hasn’t quite caught up to what his eyes are seeing.

He’s seen you smile a lot today but somehow this… this is entirely different. It’s real and it’s… it’s unguarded. It reaches your eyes, softens every line of your face, transforms you in a way that feels almost… intimate to witness, like he’s seeing a version of you that isn’t meant for just anyone.

And it makes you look so impossibly beautiful. No wait… not beautiful. He thinks that word feels too small and way too ordinary.

Maybe… radiant. 

No to be honest, even that doesn’t quite capture it.

You look like something that was never meant to be described in the first place, something that exists far beyond the limits of any language and by anything as ordinary as words. 

No matter how hard he tries, nothing he knows feels enough, nothing feels worthy of you. It’s almost frustrating, the way every word falls short before it even reaches his lips.

And as pathetic as he already seems, he can’t help but think that if he ever wanted to do you justice, he would have to start from scratch by tearing apart every dictionary ever written, discard every overused definition of beauty, and build something entirely new. 

Like maybe a language of his own, one where every word is shaped around you and made meaningful only because you exist because nothing that already exists could ever come close since you’re not something he can simply describe.

You are something he would spend a lifetime trying to.

So, Jeongguk keeps watching because at this point, that’s all he’s been doing. He notices you reaching for your purse as you rummage through it for your phone. There’s excitement in the way your fingers move, in the way you unlock it and bring it to your ear.

Jeongguk doesn’t think, he picks up a tray and walks past your table yet again, even though he doesn’t need to and then he hears your voice again.

“Ms. Baek…” Jeongguk hears you breathe out the moment the call connects and he’s quick to notice the way you sound a little breathless. You press the phone closer to your ear and he sees the way your smile seems to widen. “I got it… I… they agreed. They actually agreed.” There’s a soft, disbelieving laugh that escapes you and somehow an unconscious smile makes its way to Jeongguk’s lips as he stands near the table a few feet away from yours, pretending to wipe it clean. 

“I secured the investment.” you say again, a little quieter this time, like you’re trying to convince yourself it’s real. “After all those drafts, all those rejections, all those nights reworking the designs and the pitch… they said yes. They believe in it. They believe in Valerra.”

Jeongguk briefly moves around the table so that he can look at you better and sees the way your eyes flutter shut for a brief second. 

“I’m actually going to build it…” he hears you continue. “From scratch… the atelier, the first collection, the production line… everything I told you about… it’s finally happening.” you giggle. “I’m going to make Valerra big, Ms. Baek. I promise I am.”

>> 

There’s a faint smile on Jeongguk’s lips as he takes another turn, guiding the car into the driveway of his apartment complex. Though his hands move on instinct, his mind is far from here, caught somewhere between a memory and something that is somehow comforting but also painful to hold onto.

So much has happened since that day.

Nine years have passed. Nine years have passed since you stepped into his cafe for the very first time. Nine years have passed since you stepped into his life for the very first time.

Sometimes it still leaves Jeongguk a little baffled, the way everything began so simply. The way he had been right there, in his very own cafe, watching something extraordinary take its very first step without even realizing it. 

He had been a silent (and maybe slightly creepy) witness to a turning point so significant in your life… the beginning of your dream turning into reality. 

But what lingers with him even more is the fact that it wasn’t just your life that had been altered that day… it was his too, because while you were there, laying the first stone to build your dream that would one day become your empire… your brand… your legacy… Jeongguk had been standing just a few feet away, building something of his own.

Not an empire… not a brand… not a legacy… but you.  

You… had become Jeongguk’s dream. 

And he remembers how unsettling that was, not in a bad way of course, but it was just so shocking that something so certain took root inside him before he even had the chance to question it because from that moment on, no matter how hard he tried to look at things logically, to ground himself in reason, there was one truth he just couldn’t ignore.

Every version of his future… had you in it.

It didn’t matter what path he imagined, what direction he tried to take in his head, what kind of life he pictured for himself. Somehow, in every single one of them, you were there. Not as an afterthought, not as something optional, but as something constant. 

As he approaches his designated parking space, his gaze lifts to the rearview mirror once again, and there you are, reflected in a different form. 

Yejun softly hums a random children’s song to himself with his tiny legs swinging slightly against the car seat and Jeongguk can’t help but let his smile linger a little longer because right there, in that backseat, is the very evidence of everything that came after.

Everything that was built, everything that was lost. 

And suddenly, it all feels so close like it all happened just yesterday.

Just yesterday, the most beautiful stranger he had ever laid his eyes on had walked into his cafe for the very first time. 

Just yesterday, he had been standing right there, gawking like an absolute fool, trying to make sense of the way his heart was feeling. 

Just yesterday, you had walked into his cafe a second time, then a third time and then again, until he had realised you lived somewhere in the same neighborhood. 

Just yesterday, he had gathered whatever courage he had to finally ask you out, only to be turned down because, apparently, you “weren’t looking for anything right now.” 

Just yesterday, he had asked you out a second time, and then a third, each attempt met with a different excuse of a rejection. One day you didn’t want a relationship, another day guys with piercings and tattoos weren’t your type.

Just yesterday, he was still trying, still chasing after you like some desperate persistent loser because the way you kept coming back to the cafe, the way you kept hiding that little smile every time he tried to flirt over the counter or the way you’d let him brush his fingers against yours as he passed you your coffee made him feel a little too giddy. 

Just yesterday, after far too many attempts and far too much patience, you had finally given in, just a little, just enough to let him take you out on a date for the first time.

Just yesterday, he was sitting across from you in a dimly lit restaurant, barely tasting his food because all he could do was just sit there and memorize everything about you. The way you spoke, the way you smiled, the way you laughed, the way you carried yourself, the way you were trying, in your own quiet way, to truly let him in.

Just yesterday, he was holding you close as you cried happy tears into his chest, because Valerra’s first ever collection was a massive hit with everything selling out faster than you expected. 

Just yesterday, after multiple dates and persistent flirting with free pastries, donuts and americanos (all without Jimin knowing) along with cute little notes on your coffee cup, did you finally let him be your boyfriend. 

Just yesterday, you had broken up with him for the very first time (one of the many other dramatic break ups in your eight year relationship) all because of an argument due to a certain regular at his cafe who’d flirt with him far too boldly while he would just stand there, painfully and almost offensively oblivious to it all.

Just yesterday, he’d shown up at your door after what was probably your sixth “final” breakup, with a ridiculously oversized bouquet of lilies that nearly swallowed his face in one hand, and a neatly packed box of your favorite caramel brûlée cheesecake bars that he had baked himself, in the other. 

Just yesterday, he was down on one knee on the quiet shores of his hometown, Busan, with the ocean stretching endlessly beside him as his fingers trembled just slightly around the little velvet box in his hands.

Just yesterday, you were walking down the aisle towards him, dressed in white and looking so angelic that he couldn’t help but wonder if he was dreaming, because how could he ever get so lucky in life. 

Just yesterday, he was standing right outside the bathroom in your shared bedroom with a small stick in his trembling hands as he stared down at the faint positive sign with his heart pounding against his ribs. 

Just yesterday, he was looking down at a baby so small, barely the size of his forearm as tiny fingers instinctively curled around his thumb. 

Just yesterday, your home had been filled with love, with life, with laughter, with late nights and early mornings and everything in between.

Just yesterday, the arguments started getting louder, harsher with words slipping out in anger that neither of you could take back no matter how much you wanted to.

And just yesterday, he was sitting across from you, desperately fighting tears and signing something that felt like the end of everything he had ever known. 

God… so much had happened…. so much had changed.

And somehow, despite all of it, despite the way your lives had split into something unrecognizable… a part of him still feels like he’s standing right there in his cafe, looking at you for the very first time, completely unaware that you would become everything to him. 

“Careful, buddy.” Jeongguk chuckles softly as he helps Yejun out of the car, steadying him with a gentle hand before taking the little backpack and slinging it over his shoulder and Yejun continues humming the same little song under his breath as they walk towards the elevator with his small hand tucked inside Jeongguk’s. 

Soon, they step inside and once the doors slide shut, Jeongguk presses their floor number.

“Daddy…” Yejun suddenly calls out, and the tone alone has Jeongguk glancing down with a soft hum and a faint smile already tugging at his lips, half-expecting a question that could go absolutely anywhere… probably something about sea creatures, or if he was allowed to skip bath time tonight. 

Yejun tilts his head, leaning a little closer, his shoulder brushing against Jeongguk’s leg. “How long… will I have two houses?” he asks and Jeongguk’s fingers tighten around his son’s without meaning to as his smile fades just a fraction. 

He knows exactly where this is coming from. He’d been bracing himself for something like this for months now. Six months of preparation, of telling himself he would know what to say when the time comes and yet as he stands here now, looking down at his son, he feels completely unprepared. “What… do you mean, buddy?” he questions gently even though he knows exactly what Yejun means. 

Yejun looks down at his shoes, nudging one against the other as he tries to frame sentences with what he’s feeling. “Like… Daddy’s house… and Mama’s house…” he murmurs. “When does it go back to just one house… like before?”

Jeongguk’s breath hitches and for a second, it feels like something caves in inside his chest because to Yejun, to a 4 year old, it really is that simple.

Something changed, so it can simply change back to the way it was. 

“Heeju  says…” Yejun continues softly, glancing up again and Jeongguk instantly recognizes the name as one of the kids from Yejun’s daycare. “Heeju says her mom and dad live together because they love each other.” His brows knit together like he’s confused. “So… you and Mama don’t love each other anymore?”

Jeongguk sees the hesitation and the careful way Yejun chooses his words and he knows this isn’t a sudden thought, this is something the little boy has been carrying for a while, something he probably didn’t know how to ask until now.

Jeongguk is well aware that kids notice everything. The small changes, the silences, the absence of things that used to be there and this… this isn’t something small. 

This is Yejun’s whole world, split into two.

He crouches down immediately, bringing himself to his son’s level, his hands coming up to gently hold his small arms. “Hey… no.” he says softly. “It’s not like that.”

Yejun watches him, trying to understand, but the confusion does not fully leave his face. “Then why…” he hesitates. “Why don’t you stay with her? Why… don’t we all stay in the same house anymore… like before?”

Jeongguk swallows hard as he watches it happen in real time, the confusion on Yejun’s face slowly blending into something sadder. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks suddenly, his voice small… like he’s scared and Jeongguk shakes his head almost instantly, a little too quickly, like he needs to erase the thought before it settles any deeper. “Baby, what? No.” he says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” he denies but Yejun barely seems to hear him.

“I can be better…” he says innocently. “I won’t make a mess… I’ll eat all my vegetables… I’ll clean my toys…” He pauses, thinking hard, his tiny face scrunching up as he searches for more things he thinks he needs to fix. “I’ll even sleep early…” he adds, eyes widening like it’s his strongest offer… his best bargain. “Then we… we can all stay together again, right?”

Jeongguk exhales softly as he shakes his head again, a little slower this time, as if he’s trying to calm not just Yejun, but the thoughts running through that little mind.

“Hey…” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing softly over Yejun’s arms. “No… none of that, okay? You’re already perfect.” he says as his hand comes up to cup Yejun’s. “You don’t have to change a single thing, buddy… not for me, not for Mama…. not for anyone.”

Yejun looks down for a moment, then back up again. “I just… used to like it more when it was one house.” he confesses softly and god, Jeongguk feels it… every bit of it and for a second, he wants to say it… wants to tell his son that he feels the same way, that he understands that ache far too well, that there isn’t a day he doesn’t think about what it all used to be like. 

But he doesn’t… he can’t.

So instead, he exhales softly. “I know…” he murmurs, his thumb brushing gently over Yejun’s hand now. “I know, baby.”

As if sensing the sadness in his father’s voice, Yejun leans forward and wraps his tiny arms around Jeongguk’s neck in a sudden hug like he’s trying to fix something he doesn’t understand and Jeongguk pulls him close immediately, holding him tighter than usual with one hand cradling the back of his head as he presses a soft kiss into his hair.

“You know Daddy and Mama love you more than anything, right?” he murmurs and he feels Yejun nod quickly against his shoulder. He pulls back slowly, cupping his son’s face gently. “And… even if we have two houses…” he continues. “That doesn’t change…. Not even a little.”

Yejun watches him, trying to understand and Jeongguk knows it’s not quite the answer he wanted because to a child, love is supposed to live in one place. Together.

He stands slowly, guiding Yejun as the elevator doors open and they step out into the quiet hallway.“I know it’s different…” Jeongguk says softly as they walk down the long path leading to his flat. “I know it’s not the same as before.”

Yejun stays close to his side, his small hand still wrapped tightly around Jeongguk’s fingers. 

“But think of it like this…” he continues. “You’ve got two homes that love you. Two places where you’re always wanted.” His thumb brushes lightly over Yejun’s knuckles. “And no matter where you are… you’re never really alone, okay?”

Yejun keeps walking, his little brows slightly furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of it all, trying to fit his father’s words into a world that still feels too simple for something like this.

Jeongguk exhales softly, slowing his steps before crouching down in front of him again, making sure their eyes meet at the same level. “Hey…” he says gently. “Do you remember your favorite blanket?”

Yejun blinks, a little confused at first, but then nods slowly.

“The one with the little fishies… and sea shells… and crabs…” Jeongguk continues, a fond little smile touching his lips. “The one you used to carry everywhere… even when it got too small for you.”

Yejun’s lips curl just a little, like he remembers and Jeongguk’s gaze instantly softens. “Do you remember how one day… it tore a little… right in the middle?” he asks, making Yejun knit his brows together as he thinks and then he nods again, slower this time. 

“We tried to fix it, right?” Jeongguk murmurs, his fingers tracing invisible lines in the air between them. “We stitched it back together… really really carefully… But it didn’t stop being your favorite, right? It didn’t stop making you feel safe, right? It just… changed a little.”

There’s a small silence before he speaks again, more carefully now. “Daddy and Mama…” he says slowly, choosing each word like it matters too much. “We’re a little like that blanket.”

Yejun’s lips part slightly, like he wants to ask something, but he doesn’t, letting his father continue. 

“We tried to fix things…” Jeongguk whispers. “Daddy tried to stitch everything back together… just like we did with your blanket.” His voice falters just a little before steadying again. “But some things… they don’t go back to how they were before.” he breathes out. “But you know what didn’t change?” he asks quietly as Yejun’s eyes stay on him. “How much we love you.” he smiles as the words come out steady, even if his chest feels anything but.

“That part didn’t tear…” Jeongguk murmurs. “That part didn’t come apart at all.” he says as Yejun blinks slowly, taking it in. “It’s just that sometimes… grown-ups have some problems that are harder to fix… things that are a little harder to just stitch back together the same way.” he exhales quietly. “It doesn’t mean we stopped loving each other completely….” he explains carefully. “It just means… we couldn’t stay together anymore… like maybe… the thread isn’t strong enough to hold all the pieces together.” he gulps, pursing his lips as a way to hide the way his lips tremble a little. 

“So now…” he starts again. “It’s like we’re two blankets instead of one.” he smiles and Yejun’s lips part slightly as he blinks at his father. “But we’ll still keep you just as warm.” Jeongguk whispers. “Just from two different sides.”

Yejun looks at him for a long second, still thinking, still trying to understand in the only way a four-year-old can while Jeongguk stays right there, holding his gaze and hoping that somehow, for now, this is enough.

//

A soft groan escapes you as you shift slightly on the mattress, the morning light slipping through the narrow gaps in the curtains of the tall floor-to-ceiling windows of your penthouse. It presses insistently against your eyelids until your brows knit together, forcing you to slowly pry them open.

You blink a few times, trying to adjust your vision before letting out a quiet sigh as you push yourself up. Your body feels heavy in a way sleep isn’t supposed to feel because it doesn’t feel like you rested at all. 

Your gaze drifts towards the nightstand as you squint at the small digital clock, the numbers reading 9:04 a.m, and almost immediately your eyes shift to the little translucent amber bottle placed right beside it.

Your tongue clicks softly against the roof of your mouth as you shake your head, bringing both your palms up to cover your face, pressing them in as if you could somehow push the grogginess out of your system. You drag your hands down slowly, pushing your hair back before swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

For as long as you can remember, sleep has never come easy to you.

There were years where it felt like a constant battle. Some nights it was insomnia and other nights it was the nightmares.

But then, for a while, it had gotten better. Not on its own of course, but because of a certain someone.

Someone who would make you chamomile tea every single time before bed… someone who would hold you close through the night… someone who would absentmindedly trace patterns along your arms and your back until you drifted off… someone who would press the gentlest kisses to your forehead every time you so much as stirred in your sleep.

With Jeongguk… sleep had not felt like something you had to fight for.

But now that he was no longer a part of your life, it feels like you’ve been dragged right back to where you started because the silence feels louder, your thoughts are harder to control and it feels like the nights stretch endlessly with each hour blending into the next until time itself starts to feel meaningless.

And after years, you found yourself reaching for things you once swore you would never go back to.

Last night, it was sleeping pills. Other nights, it’s wine and sometimes it’s something with a little more kick in it… something enough to make your body give in even when your mind refuses to.

Sometimes there are nights where you let exhaustion take over in the worst ways, skipping meals, pushing yourself through work until your body aches, just so there’s a slight chance you might collapse into sleep without thinking.

Anything that might force your body to shut down, anything that might resemble rest.

And you hate it… you hate how easily it has all come back. How quickly you have slipped into patterns you worked so hard to leave behind because it almost feels like your body remembers everything you tried to forget.

You had tried so hard not to depend on these habits again. Not just because of what they might do to you in the long run, but because of how draining it is to live like this…. to wake up just as tired as you were the night before… to dread going to bed because you don’t know what kind of night you’re going to have.

And for the past few months, it’s been relentless. The insomnia… the nightmares…. both of them finding their way back to you, as if they had only been waiting for the right moment to return… as if they knew you would not be able to keep them away forever.

A few seconds pass by as you head towards the bathroom. You splash your face with cold water, brush your teeth, smooth your hair back, and for a brief moment you find yourself staring at your reflection. 

You shake your head briefly before reaching for the towel to pat your face dry and walk out to the living room. 

Your eyes instantly land on the covered food laid neatly across the dining table and a soft sigh leaves your lips. Junhee, the cook you had hired around 6 months ago, must have come in early again like she did every other morning and prepared you, your breakfast. 

You aren’t particularly hungry, but you know you need some fuel in your system especially for the day you had planned, so despite the lack of hunger, you force yourself to sit down and eat. 

By the time you finish eating, nearly 10 minutes later, the bell rings and you already know who it is.

You run your fingers through your hair and fix your silk robe over your body as you make your way towards the front door. 

“Mama!!” Yejun beams the second you swing the door open and just like that the heaviness and grogginess clinging to you instantly fades away. You crouch down to his level without thinking, wrapping your arms around his tiny body. “Hi, my love.” you laugh softly, closing your eyes as you feel your son hug you back and press your cheek into his hair, breathing him in gently. 

Yejun pulls away with the brightest smile on his face. “Mama, do you remember?? You said you were taking me somewhere special today?” he talks fast, his small body practically bouncing on his feet. “Of course I remember, honey.” you giggle, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Jeongguk simply watches you from where he stands, just a few feet away. There’s just something about the way you hold Yejun… the way your arms wrap around him so easily, the way your voice softens without even trying, the way your entire face seems to light up in a way he has not seen up close in months. 

It’s so achingly familiar that for a second, his body almost forgets that he isn’t exactly a part of it anymore.

For a second, it feels like he could just step in… like he could just close that small distance, join you and wrap his arms around you and Yejun just like he used to without thinking… like this is still his home, still his life, still his.

But he doesn’t move… he can’t…so he stays where he is, rooted to the spot, just watching, because that’s all he can do right now, standing on the outside of it, like a visitor who knows the place too well.

You giggle to yourself softly as you look over your shoulder watching Yejun run off inside before slowly rising to your feet and when your eyes land on the figure still lingering right outside your door, the smile on your lips fades. 

Not exactly out of intention, but because you simply don’t know what to do with your face anymore when it comes to your ex-husband.

There was a time when looking at him came easily. When your expressions did not need to be thought through, when your face would soften without permission, when your eyes would give you away before you even realized it. But now… now every reaction feels misplaced like a smile feels like too much… indifference feels like a lie and anything in between feels painfully inadequate.

So your face settles into something uncertain… something awkward.

Jeongguk looks into your eyes as he holds onto Yejun’s little backpack that’s hanging loosely over his shoulder and for a moment, neither of you speak but your gazes drift and it almost happens without thought. 

It’s hesitant at first, as if both of you are quietly giving in to the same unspoken urge. 

To look. 

To take each other in… because right now, that is all you are allowed. 

Jeongguk feels his breath falter as he takes in the sight of you standing there in your nightgown, the silk robe loosely tied around your waist. It’s a sight he knows all too well… one that he used to admire on the regular and just looking at you now vividly reminds him of the softness of the silk beneath his hands… the way it would crumple so easily beneath his palms when he would pull you closer by the waist… the way the fabric would ride up your body when you’d let his touches and kisses escalate.  

And for a fleeting, dangerous second, he almost moves… almost reaches for you like his body still believes it has the right to.

But he doesn’t.

On the other side, your gaze lingers just as long. It starts at the hoodie he’s wearing, a familiar beige one that sits loosely on his frame... one of the many you used to steal without asking and even at the distance you’re standing in right now, you can vividly remember the scent it used to carry… the scent of him. 

Your eyes travel upward slowly, settling on his face now… on the little lip ring he nervously plays with and the way his hair falls messily over his forehead, partially concealing the eyebrow piercing beneath the dark strands and that’s when you feel your fingers twitch faintly at your side because for a brief second, you imagine just stepping forward, reaching up, and brushing his hair away from his eyes.

It’s such a simple gesture… something you used to do without thinking back then but now, it feels like something you are no longer allowed.

So neither of you move and you just stand there, holding onto the moment in the only way you can now, through these quiet glances and memories that feel a little too real.

Jeongguk’s grip tightens slightly around the strap of Yejun’s bag as he forces his gaze away from you, away from the places his mind is trying to linger on. 

It makes him feel foolish, almost unfairly so, because despite everything that has happened, despite the way things ended, despite the way his heart had been left in pieces months ago, none of it seems to matter to the part of him that still looks at you like this… like you’re the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, before stepping aside from the doorway and walk further into the penthouse, already knowing he will follow.

This had become the shape of your relationship now. Something in between strangers and something that once meant everything, like a fragile middle ground where both of you moved carefully, avoiding things that still lingered beneath the surface and forcing yourselves to keep conversations limited where words were chosen with caution because there was too much history in the things you were not saying.

So you both held on to what you could… what was still steady… what was still yours to share without breaking.

To what mattered. To who mattered.

Yejun.

Jeongguk steps inside the penthouse, the same penthouse he used to share with you, the same penthouse where he built a life with you. He closes the door behind him and walks further in not hesitantly, not like a guest… but not like he belongs either.

He watches you walk into the kitchen and grab a glass as the quiet stretches between the two of you. “So…” he begins, deciding to break the ice first as usual and you don’t turn around at his voice but simply move towards the sink, turning the tap on and focus on the rising level of water in your glass.

“Jun’s been raving about this ‘special place’ you’re taking him.” he continues with a faint chuckle as he steps further in the living room, slipping Yejun’s backpack off his shoulder and placing it on the couch. “Where…” he starts again even though you still don’t turn around. “Where are you taking him?”

“Ms. Baek’s.” you simply answer, taking a slow sip of your water, still not facing him. 

“Oh…” he breathes out as the realization hits him instantly and he nods to himself. “That’s… that’s nice.” he murmurs, his eyes still on you as you tilt the glass back and finish your water in one go. “Wasn’t he just 2 the last time we took him there?” he suddenly says again after a small pause. “Ms. Baek is going to be really happy to see him.”

You choose not to respond. Instead, you place the glass down on the counter because somehow, even something as small as a shared memory… anything that still carries the word “we” in it has a way of cracking your chest open wider than you’d like to admit. 

So you decide to move past it. “So I’ll drop him off to school Monday morning, and you’ll pick him up after, right?” you ask, changing the topic to just schedules… just arrangements.

Jeongguk gulps softly, his gaze dropping before he looks away altogether. There’s just something about the way you speak to him, the way you don’t even look at him most of the time. “Yeah… yeah, as usual.” he replies, his voice quieter than before. “Oh and…” he starts again. “Jun’s talent show’s on Thursday…. It starts around 4—”

“I remember.” You cut him off before he can continue and this time you finally look at him as you stand across the kitchen island with your arms folded loosely over your chest. “I already told you.” you continue. “I’ll meet you there at 3:30.”

There’s nothing more to it, no room for discussion and Jeongguk can’t help but nod a little too quickly. “Right… yeah, okay.” he breathes out as he moves his hands, wiping his palms against the back of his jeans, a small gesture that betrays the awkwardness he’s trying to hide. “Then… well… I guess… I should get goi—” 

“Mama! I’m readyyy !!” Yejun comes running out of his room, dressed in a fresh outfit, his loud voice and bright energy cutting straight through the tension in the living room and both your gazes shift to him instantly.

And the second you spot him, a smile effortlessly spreads across your face. “Bug, your cardigan’s on the wrong way.” you laugh softly, already moving around the island to get closer to him. “Come here.” you murmur as you crouch down to his level and gently slip the cardigan off his shoulders.

You carefully flip the cardigan around before guiding his arms back through the sleeves properly and your fingers smoothen the fabric down his arms, adjusting it neatly before tugging it lightly into place. “There we go.” you smile. “Now you look perfect.”

Jeongguk finds himself smiling as he clears his throat softly, stepping forward. “Alright, champ.” he says gently. “Daddy’s gotta head out now… think I can get a goodbye kiss before I go?”

Yejun doesn’t hesitate as he pulls away from you instantly, little feet pattering against the floor as he runs straight into his father’s arms. You rise to your feet as you watch the way Jeongguk bends down and lifts his son up with ease. “Come here.” he murmurs fondly, turning his face just enough and Yejun cups his father’s cheek with both his tiny hands and plants a loud, exaggerated kiss against it.

“Bye, Daddy.” he says brightly, his eyes crinkling with a smile and you notice the way Jeongguk’s expression softens even more. “Bye, baby.” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Yejun’s cheek in return. “Have lots of fun today, okay? Be good for Mama.” His hand comes up to ruffle his hair gently. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Yejun giggles at the ticklish brush of his lips and the way his father’s nose nudges against his cheek, squirming slightly in his arms before wrapping them loosely around Jeongguk’s neck for one last quick hug.

And just like that Jeongguk is out the door.

//

You smile softly to yourself as your gaze drifts to the rearview mirror, catching the sight of Yejun fast asleep in his car seat with his head tilted slightly to the side, lips parted just enough and his small chest rising and falling. Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer before you look back at the road ahead. It’s been about 40 minutes since you started driving towards this “special place” you had promised to take your son. 

When you finally slow the car down and press the brakes, the tires crunch softly against the gravel as you come to a stop and your eyes lift towards the view outside your window. 

A large iron gate stands ahead with a curved metal sign board arching right above it, bearing the name “Haesol Children’s Home”.

Within seconds you’re out the car, already inching towards the backseat, carefully opening the door. “Junnie… wake up, honey.” you murmur gently, your fingers caressing his cheek. “Come on, baby… we’re here.” you smile before leaning to press a soft kiss to his hair. 

Yejun stirs slowly, sleep still clinging to him as his lashes flutter open. His eyes blink a few times, before he looks around, parting his lips slightly as he smacks them together in that sleepy way. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you as you gently unbuckle him and guide him out of the car, setting him down on his feet. He leans into you instinctively, still half asleep, his small hand finding yours without needing to look.

“Where are we, Mama?” he asks, his eyes drifting towards the gate ahead as you shut the door behind him. You follow his gaze with the same smile still lingering in his lips and then you crouch down in front of him, your hands coming up to fix the collar of his sweater, fingers smoothing it down before settling gently around his arms. “This…” you begin softly. “This is a place Mama used to live in when she was little.” you explain, watching the way he tries to understand and process your words in his own small way.

“Come on.” you say gently, straightening up, but before heading towards the gate, you turn towards the trunk of your car instead. 

Yejun waits patiently beside you, his small hand brushing against your leg as you unlock it and open the trunk, revealing two neatly packed cardboard boxes. 

Before you can reach for the boxes, one of the young guards stationed near the gate notices you and recognition flashes across his face instantly. He moves without hesitation, opening the gate before jogging towards you, stopping just short as he offers a respectful bow.

You return it with a soft smile, dipping your head slightly before nudging Yejun beside you. “Say hello, baby.”

Yejun glances up at you for a brief second before quickly mimicking the gesture, his bow a little clumsy but sincere as his tiny voice follows through with a soft greeting that makes the guard smile. Then, his eyes shift towards the trunk, landing on the boxes. “Ms. Min, please… let me help you.” he offers, already stepping forward. Before you can protest, he stacks them on top of each other and lifts them. “Thank you, Minhyuk-ah.” you smile while he nods politely, adjusting his grip as he holds the boxes securely.

Beside you, Yejun’s attention is completely captured, his curious gaze following the movement of the boxes as his head tilts slightly. “What are those, Mama?” he asks. You hum thoughtfully, closing the trunk before reaching your finger to gently tap the tip of his nose. “Just a little gift.” you smile. “For the people we’re about to meet.”

His eyes brighten at that, like the idea itself excites him, and he nods as if that is more than enough explanation.

With the boxes now taken care of, you guide him back towards the entrance, slipping your hand into his once again as the other guards hold the gate open for you, all of them greeting you with bows.

In front of you, the narrow stone pathway stretches ahead, but it branches out into multiple smaller paths, each one leading to different parts of the grounds.

To your right, the courtyard unfolds in layers. There’s a large tree at the center that spreads its branches wide, casting soft, dappled shadows over the ground. Around it, low wooden benches and small tables are arranged, some occupied by young children, maybe around Yejun’s age, who are all busy drawing with crayons scattered everywhere and their heads bent down in concentration. 

A little further down, a cluster of swings and a slide stand as a few children take turns, playing amongst themselves.

To your left, there’s a long stretch of an open field where a group of older children are gathered, kicking around a slightly worn football as they run across the space shouting and laughing with each other. 

The main building stands further in, much larger than it first seemed. It’s not just one structure, but a series of connected wings forming a gentle U-shape around the central yard with the walls painted in soft, muted tones, pale cream and warm beige and windows lined evenly across each floor.

“Look, Mama!!” Yejun suddenly calls out, tugging at your hand as the two of you continue walking across the pathway with Minhyuk following right behind. Yejun bounces on his feet as he points at a group of children sitting in a circle, tossing small stones into the air as they play a game of gonggi. “They’re playing over there… can I play too?”

“Of course you can, bug.” you say warmly. “But first, we need to meet someone, okay?”

He agrees immediately, like the sweetest child he is, his small hand tightening around yours even as his gaze lingers on the children playing.

Soon enough, you find yourself climbing the wide staircase that leads into the main building as Yejun keeps a firm hold on your hand while following you. 

The familiar scent of polished wood and something faintly sweet, maybe from the kitchen down the hall, wraps around you the moment you step inside and right there, standing by the tall double doors at the entrance hall, is a face you would recognize anywhere.

“Y/n-ah!” Ms. Baek’s voice rings out before you can even fully take her in and her entire face lights up, her conversation with the volunteer in front of her forgotten in an instant as she steps forward, hands already reaching out as if she cannot quite believe you are actually standing there.

“What a pleasant surprise.” she squeals as she wraps her arms around you, greeting you with a warm hug and when she pulls away, her gaze drops to the little figure tucked beside you. “Oh my goodness…” she gasps, her eyes widening. “And is this who I think it is?” her voice softens as she leans down slightly, trying to get a better look at him.

Yejun, on the other hand, freezes for a second under the sudden attention and his grip on your hand tightens before he instinctively steps half behind you, peeking out from your side. “Don’t be shy, baby.” you laugh, gently nudging him forward, your hand resting lightly on his back as you guide him just enough for him to be seen properly. 

“This is Ms. Baek, Yejun-ah.” you smile. “She’s like a mama to me.” you say without hesitation as Yejun twists his head to look up at you. “Come on, greet her.” you encourage and he instantly bows down at her giving her a shy smile. 

Then you glance back up at Mrs. Baek. “You’re getting old, you know,” you tease lightly, narrowing your eyes slightly as if inspecting her more closely. “I’m starting to see more and more white hair on that head of yours.” 

Ms. Baek lets out an incredulous scoff, her eyes rolling immediately even as a smile tugs at her lips. “This girl…” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. “Still as cheeky as ever… not a single bit of respect after all these years.” she glares at you, but there’s no bite to her words… only fondness.

Her attention drifts back to Yejun almost instantly, her expression softening again as she crouches slightly to meet his eye level. “And you…” she says gently, her voice lowering as if she doesn’t want to overwhelm him. “You’ve gotten so big already.”

Yejun blinks at her, still shy but no longer hiding, his fingers loosely hooked around yours as he watches Ms. Baek.

“Oh and…” you suddenly add, turning slightly as you gesture towardsMinhyuk, who has been standing patiently with both boxes still in his arms. “Here’s some snacks for all the kids.”

Ms. Baek’s eyes widen again. “Y/n-ah, you didn’t have to!” she says quickly, shaking her head. You only roll your eyes at her with a small grin tugging at your lips. “Please…” you reply lightly, brushing it off like it is nothing. “You’ve already done so much for this place.” she insists.

“Minhyuk-ah…” you call gently, ignoring Ms. Baek’s protests. “Could you keep the boxes in the kitchen? We can hand them out later.” you say and he nods immediately, adjusting his hold before heading off down the corridor.

//

“Thank you.” you mumble softly, offering a small smile as one of the volunteers hands you a warm cup of jasmine tea before passing another to Ms. Baek. You wrap your fingers around the porcelain as the delicate scent of jasmine rises with the steam.

You drift towards the large window of the multipurpose activity room, a space you remember far too well. The room is lined with low shelves filled with books, board games and neatly stacked art supplies.

The wooden floors carry faint scuff marks from years of children running through it and the walls are decorated with drawings taped up in uneven lines. The window stretches wide across one entire wall, giving a full view of the playground outside.

You take sip, keeping your eyes fixed on Yejun as you watch him run alongside a few children his age. Every now and then, he pauses, glancing around as if searching for you, and the moment he spots you through the window, he breaks into the brightest grin before running right back into the game.

Beside you, Ms. Baek takes a sip of her tea, her gaze not on the playground, but on you. “How have you been, Y/n-ah?” she asks softly and you don’t miss the way there’s a carefulness in her tone. “You’re looking much better than the last time you were here.” she adds gently.

Your fingers tighten ever so slightly around the cup because you know exactly what she means. The last time you were here, it had been the same night you signed your name onto something that ended your marriage… 6 months ago. 

And Ms. Baek remembers it as clearly as if it had happened just yesterday.

The storm had been relentless that night with the rain crashing against the ground, wind howling through the trees, the kind of night where no one expected visitors.

She had opened the large double doors at the main entrance only because she thought she had heard something through the noise of the rain but there you were, standing at the entrance, completely drenched with your clothes clinging to you and your hair soaked and sticking to your face. 

Water had been dripping from every edge of you, but it was not just the rain… your tears had blended so seamlessly with it that there was no way to tell where one ended and the other began.

And for a moment, all Ms. Baek could see that night wasn’t the woman you had grown into, but the little girl she remembers all too well from years ago.

The one who had once stood at the very same doorstep, with the same look, the same tears and almost the same kind of pain. 

That night, you hadn’t said a single word… you didn’t need to. The moment she pulled your shivering body into her arms, you collapsed right into her, your fingers desperately gripping onto her sweater for dear life. 

You had cried into her shoulder without explanation, your body trembling with everything you had been holding in and she had simply held you, just like she did when she had seen you for the very first time… when you were no older than seven. 

Ms. Baek had watched you grow up piece by careful piece, like someone tending to a fragile thing that refused to bloom too quickly. You had always been a guarded child, the kind who learned early on to keep her thoughts tucked away, her emotions folded neatly where no one could reach them. 

While the other children in the orphanage laughed loudly, fought easily and forgave just as quickly, you had been different.

You spoke when necessary, smiled when it was expected but rarely let anyone see beyond that.

You did have friends, of course. A small circle… a few children from the orphanage who had learned to understand your silences rather than question them, and later, a handful from school, three at most, out of which Bomi was the most memorable one.  

Even then, you never gave all of yourself away. There was always a part of you that remained untouched, as if you were constantly holding something back, protecting something no one else could see.

Ms. Baek had seen it all. The way you would sit by yourself with sketchbooks, your fingers smudged with pencil lead as you traced delicate designs over and over again. Intricate pieces…. earrings shaped like falling petals… rings that curved like they were meant to hold something precious… necklaces that looked less like accessories and more like stories waiting to be worn.

You had always loved creating and she had assumed that was where all your love would go…. into your work, into your ambition, into the dream you carried so fiercely that it almost seemed like nothing else could ever matter as much.

You had mentioned boys, once in a while. Passing comments in high school, a few names in college, stories that never quite held weight when you told them… nothing that lingered, nothing that made your eyes soften or your voice change and so Ms. Baek never thought much of it. 

Love, for you, had always seemed like something distant. Optional, even.

And then came Jeongguk.

The first time you brought him to the orphanage, you had simply introduced him as “just a good friend” who owned a cafe in the same neighborhood as your apartment, with your expression carefully neutral like always. 

But Ms. Baek had known better. She had lived long enough to recognize the quiet shifts in people, the subtle changes that words could never fully hide.

It was around the time your dream had finally begun to take shape, when Valerra was no longer just an idea scribbled into sketchbooks, but something real… something breathing. You had secured your first investment, your designs had started finding their way into the world and for the first time, there was proof that everything you had sacrificed was actually leading somewhere.

You had been relentless in that phase of your life. Every waking moment was spent refining, perfecting, building. Your hands were always busy with sketches, your mind always running ahead to the next collection, the next possibility, the next step closer to the life you had always envisioned for yourself. 

There was a certain fire in you back then, something unyielding and almost intimidating, like you were afraid that if you slowed down even for a second, everything you had worked for might slip right through your fingers.

And yet, somehow, in the middle of all that… there he was.

Ms. Baek had met Jeongguk a handful of times, but it had been more than enough to understand him in ways you had spent years trying not to be understood.

He was transparent in a way you had never allowed yourself to be. His emotions lived unguarded in his wide starry eyes and he carried his heart on his sleeve with a kind of honesty that felt both rare and terrifying.

And from the very first moment she saw him, she knew. The way he looked at you… god it was devotion in its purest, most unrefined form. The kind that didn't try to hide itself, the kind that didn’t know how to.

Even when you were curt with him, even when your words carried that sharp edge you used to keep everyone at arm’s length, he never once recoiled. He would only smile, as though none of it could touch him as long as he was allowed to just stand beside you.

Ms. Baek had seen many kinds of love in her lifetime. Quiet love, careful love, love that hesitated, love that calculated, love that protected itself before offering anything away but this… this was something entirely different.

It was reckless in its sincerity… almost foolish in the way it gave itself so freely. The kind of love that didn’t keep count, the kind that would offer everything it had, without ever thinking to ask for something in return.

And she had known, even then, watching him stand beside you like the world began and ended in your shadow… that he was already gone for you.

Completely, hopelessly, irreversibly gone. 

And for the first time, she had seen something shift in you too. It was subtle, almost invisible to anyone who didn’t know you the way she did, but it was there. In the way your shoulders relaxed just a little when he was around, in the way your voice softened without you realizing it, in the way you allowed him to stand closer than anyone else ever had.

It had made her heart feel full in a way she couldn’t quite explain because the little girl she had once known, the one who had built walls so high that no one could reach her, was finally letting someone in. She had believed then that you had found something rare… something that would stay. 

Which is why, the night you showed up at her doorstep, trembling under the weight of the rain and something far heavier, it had shattered something inside her because she knew, she knew how much you loved him and more than that, she knew how much it must have taken for you to love him in the first place.

You keep your gaze fixed on Yejun through the window, who’s laughing his heart out with the other kids before letting it fall to the cup in your hands. “I’ve been… okay.” you answer quietly. “My new collection just dropped.” you continue. “So I’ve been busy with that… and just… everything else that comes with it.” your shoulders lift in a small, almost dismissive shrug. “You know how it gets.” there’s a pause before you turn to look at her with a small, apologetic smile. “That’s why I haven’t been able to come down and see you.”

She nods in understanding as she lifts her cup, taking a slow sip before her gaze drifts to the window, settling on the playground outside. “Yejun is so adorable.” she points out softly with a fond smile. “He was so little when I saw him the last time.” she chuckles, shaking her head and you smile at her words, nodding slowly. “He’s got your smile.” she continues. “And god… those eyes…” she adds, her voice dipping just slightly. “It’s almost scary how much they resemble Jeongguk’s.”

Your grip on the cup tightens just a fraction at the mention of his name because you already know what was coming next. Ms. Baek lets the silence sit for a moment, as if weighing her words, before she turns her head slightly towards you again. “How is he?” she asks quietly.

You let out a slow breath and for a moment, you say nothing. “He’s… alright, I think.” you finally murmur. “I wouldn’t really know.” you continue. “I just see him sometimes… you know, because of Yejun.” you explain as your thumb drags along the rim of the cup, again and again. 

“How has it been?” she asks after a moment. “The whole… co-parenting situation?”

Your lips part, then press together again as you look away, towards the window. “It’s been…” you start, your voice trailing off as you search for something safe. “Challenging.” you settle on.

“Challenging?” she repeats with a slight tilt of her head. You huff out a faint breath, almost like you’re surrendering because it has never been easy to hide things from Ms. Baek, let alone lie to her, not when she knows you the way she does. 

After all, she was the one who raised you.

“It’s just…” your shoulders lift slightly before dropping again. “It’s awkward. All the time… We talk, but only about Yejun. We stand in the same space, but it feels like there’s something… blocking everything else.” your voice trembles slightly as you gulp to yourself. “We don’t say what we actually want to say. We don’t ask the things we want to ask…. so, it’s like we’re both pretending this is normal.” you add, your brows knitting faintly. “Like this is how it’s just meant to be now.” you sigh. “But it’s not like we have a choice…” you continue as Ms. Baek listens without interrupting. “We have to keep seeing each other, you know… we just have to figure it out… for Yejun.”

Ms. Baek hums softly, taking in every word, every pause, every crack you’re trying so hard to hide. “And how do you feel about it now?” she finally asks after a beat. “The divorce.”

You blink, slightly caught off guard, your head turning towards her a little too quickly. “The divorce?” you echo, your brows pulling together. “What do you mean how do I feel about it now?”

She shrugs lightly. “Do you regret it?” she asks, her voice careful. “Do you ever think… maybe you could have handled it differently?”

You don’t answer immediately as your jaw tightens. “I don’t know how else I would’ve handled it.” you breathe out after a moment. “It would have ended the same way.” you say lowly. “He would’ve left me first anyway.” 

Ms. Baek’s face softens as she notices the way your lips tremble. “You don’t know that.” she says softly, stepping just a little closer. 

“Well I do!” you suddenly burst out, the words breaking free before you can stop them. “I could see it, okay?” your voice shakes even more now. “I could see it happening.” the words tumble out of you as your chest rises and falls unevenly.“It was getting harder for him to stay. I… I could feel it.” your brows pull together as your vision blurs faintly. “I could see how I was disappointing him.” you continue. “How I kept choosing everything else. Work, deadlines, my stupid need to have everything under control…” a weak, breathless laugh escapes you. “I didn’t even realize how much I was taking him for granted until it was already too late.” you say, shaking your head slightly as you feel your throat tightening.

“And I couldn’t just sit there and wait.” you whisper, your voice already beginning to splinter beneath the weight of everything you’ve been holding in for months. “I couldn’t just sit there and wait for him to slowly fall out of love with me and then leave.” A tear slips free before you can stop it, rolling slowly down your cheek as your eyes squeeze shut for a brief second, like you’re ashamed of being seen like this.

“You know me…” you murmur weakly, your glossy eyes finally lifting to meet hers. “You know I’m not built for that.” your lips tremble faintly as you inhale shakily. “You know I wouldn’t have survived if he abandoned me first.”

Ms. Baek watches you quietly, her own heart aching at the sight in front of her… you look so small suddenly. “So…” she says softly after a long moment. “You abandoned him first?”

Your face crumples slightly and all you can manage is a tiny nod before looking away immediately, like even acknowledging it out loud makes you feel sick. “I thought it would hurt less that way…” you whisper hoarsely. “...If I did it first.” a bitter laugh escapes you. “God, that sounds horrible.” another tear slips down your cheek and this time you wipe it away harshly, almost angrily.

“He’s not your mother, Y/n.” Ms. Baek suddenly says as your head snaps towards her at once, eyes widening faintly and for a second, something defensive flashes across your face. “What does she have to do with any of this?” you ask quietly, though the crack in your voice gives you away immediately because deep down, you already know. “Everything.” she says gently and you look away again almost instantly.

“You think I didn’t see what that did to you?” she continues softly. “You think I haven’t watched you spend your entire life preparing yourself for people to leave?” she places her palm gently on your arm. “You were just a little girl, Y/n.” she says. “A little girl who learned far too early that love could disappear overnight.” she adds and suddenly the tears burn hotter now.

“You stopped relying on people because you thought depending on them was dangerous… You stopped asking for too much because you convinced yourself people leave when you become too hard to carry.” Her eyes glisten faintly as she looks at you. “And you spent years building walls so high around yourself so that nobody could ever hurt you like that again.” she exhales as you keep your trembling lower lip between your teeth. 

“I watched you keep everyone at arm’s length…” she says quietly. “Friends…. People who cared about you…. Boys who liked you.” A sad smile touches her lips briefly. “You always left first emotionally, before they could.”

You shake your head weakly, tears falling faster now. “No…” you whisper, though it sounds more like pleading than denial.

“But then Jeongguk came along…” Ms. Baek murmurs. “And for the first time… you let someone all the way in… You let him see every part of you that you spent your whole life hiding.” she says softly. “And that terrified you.”

A broken breath leaves your lips as you lower your head because Ms. Baek is right.

“You loved him so much that the thought of losing him became bigger than the love itself…” she whispers and as the tears continue to flow down your cheeks, your shoulders shake faintly. “And somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that him leaving was inevitable. So you chose to leave first because at least that way… you could still pretend you had control over it.” 

You let out a strangled sound at that, quickly covering your mouth with your hand as another sob threatens to escape. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this…” you cry quietly. “I didn’t…” your voice breaks apart completely. “I didn’t want to lose him.”

Ms. Baek immediately moves closer, carefully wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “I know.” she whispers.

“I just…” you choke out painfully. “I loved him so much and it got so terrifying because one day I realized he had the power to completely destroy me if he wanted to.” your breathing stutters. “And I know Jeongguk would never intentionally hurt me but… people leave… they… they get tired… they wake up one day and realize they deserve better and then they just… go.” Your voice turns smaller with every word. “And I kept thinking…” you whisper brokenly. “What if one day he looks at me and realizes loving me is exhausting too?”

And as you finally break apart in front of her, Ms. Baek does the only thing she has ever known to do when it comes to you… she holds you.

She quietly reaches over to set both your half finished cups of jasmine tea onto the small table beside her before pulling you closer again, one hand smoothing slowly over your hair while your tears soak into the fabric of her blouse. Her heart aches unbearably at the sound of your crying… not because it’s loud, but because it’s not. You cry like someone who spent years teaching herself how to do it silently.

Ms. Baek closes her eyes briefly as she listens to your uneven breathing, your quiet little gasps for air between every attempt to steady yourself. She wishes more than anything that she could reach inside your chest and pull every fear out of you with her bare hands. 

She wishes she could somehow make you understand that Jeongguk was never going to leave you the way you feared he would… but she also knows wounds like yours are not logical. 

Fear like yours does not listen to reassurance.

It settles deep inside your bones and convinces you that love is temporary, that happiness always comes with an expiration date attached to it.

But god, the way that boy looked at you.

Ms. Baek doesn’t know if love can truly be measured through glances alone, but if it could, then Jeongguk had loved you more honestly than most people ever get to experience in an entire lifetime and every single time, his expression carried the same thing.

Wonder.

As though he couldn’t quite believe someone like you existed and somehow chose him back.

Ms. Baek remembers thinking then that Jeongguk looked at you like a man terrified of losing the only home he had ever truly found. That boy would have burned himself alive just to keep you warm if you had asked him to.

Not because you demanded it, not because he was forced to but because loving you seemed as natural to him as breathing.

And maybe that is why this hurts so much to watch now because she knows you spent your entire relationship preparing yourself for an abandonment that was never actually coming.

You loved a man who would have stayed through every version of you, even the difficult ones, even the broken ones, even the versions of yourself you could barely stand but your fear got there first.

And now all Ms. Baek can do is hold the little girl inside you who mourns the life she destroyed trying to protect herself from losing it.

//

“Mama look, me and Misun made this!” Yejun beams proudly as he runs towards you with a paper origami turtle clutched carefully between his tiny fingers. The folds are uneven and one of the little flippers is slightly bent, but the excitement shining in his eyes makes it look perfect anyway. “Oh my god…” you gasp dramatically, as you take the tiny paper turtle into your hands. “This is amazing, honey.”

Yejun giggles at your reaction, cheeks puffing slightly with pride while beside him, the little girl you had learned was named Misun shyly hides half her face behind her hands.

“And Misun helped me with this part.” Yejun explains seriously, pointing at one of the folds. “Because mine kept looking ugly.”

“Yah.” Misun protests with a tiny pout. “I didn’t say ugly.” she says and you can’t help but giggle at the offended look on her face.

“Well, I think both of you are origami geniuses.” you declare confidently before gently tapping the tip of Yejun’s nose as the kids giggle to themselves. Then, just as quickly as he had come running over, Yejun grabs the turtle back carefully before tugging Misun’s sleeve. “Come on.” he says excitedly. “Let’s make the frog now.”

The two children immediately scurry back towards the low craft table, their heads already bent together as they start arguing over colored paper. 

It was almost late evening now and you had spent the entire day here, at the orphanage.

From breaking down in Ms. Baek’s arms in the morning to sitting with the children during lunch, listening to their endless little stories and watching Yejun mingle with everyone so naturally made your chest ache in ways you couldn’t explain.

After your conversation with Ms. Baek, you had quickly pulled yourself together, fixing your makeup and wiping away every trace of the tears you had shed before heading off to meet some of the volunteers around the orphanage, many of whom had once been children here alongside you.

Including Seri, your former roommate.

The same girl who used to sit beside you while you sketched jewelry designs into old notebooks instead of sleeping. Now she worked as a successful lawyer who came back almost every weekend to volunteer at the orphanage.

“You know…” you murmur thoughtfully, sitting cross legged on the floor with your back resting against the wall. Ms. Baek sat beside you on one of the floor cushions, gently cradling a sleeping baby against her chest while across from the two of you, Seri sat peeling mandarins for the children, occasionally tossing the peels into a small paper bag beside her.

You watch Yejun from across the room for a moment longer before speaking again. “I’ve been thinking about building a swimming pool for the kids.”

“Yah.” Ms. Baek narrows her eyes instantly. “You’ve already spent enough money on this place. Stop it.”

And you know, she wasn’t exaggerating. The orphanage was still the same, but it now looked a lot different from the place you had grown up in.

Once Valerra began flourishing and your life transformed into something you once only dreamed about, you made it your mission to give back to the one place that had held together what remained of your childhood.

You had renovated entire sections of the building, installed proper heating systems during winter, funded better quality meals, rebuilt the library, added a music room, upgraded the medical facilities, replaced some of the old furniture, redesigned the children’s bedrooms and even improved security.

“Oh, come on.” you huff dramatically, waving her off. “It’ll be nice for the kids.” you say but Ms. Baek continues glaring at you. “They’ll have fun,.” you insist. “And learning how to swim is important… It’s literally a survival skill.” you say as Seri snorts beside you. “Only you would try to justify a giant swimming pool by making it sound educational.”

“It is educational!” you defend immediately. “What if one of them becomes an Olympic swimmer someday?” you say looking at both of them as Ms. Baek pinches the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh.

“This girl…” she mutters under her breath. “You really think money grows on trees.” she clicks her tongue while you grin shamelessly. “Good thing I have a lot of trees then.”

Seri bursts out laughing while Ms. Baek looks moments away from smacking you with a cushion.

Still, despite her scolding, her eyes soften as she looks at you because she knows exactly why you do this. You give and give and give to this place because a part of you still remembers what it felt like to have nothing and maybe this is your way of making sure no child here ever has to feel that emptiness the way you once did.

Soon enough, you find yourself glancing at the time and realizing with a small sigh that it was finally time to call it a day.

You gently reach for Yejun’s hand, your fingers wrapping around his tiny ones as you softly announce that it was time to head home and almost instantly, a chorus of tiny protests fills the room.

“Already?”“Yejun-ah, you have to come again!”“We didn’t finish making the lego set!!”

You can’t help but laugh quietly at the way your son looks completely torn, his eyes darting between you and the little group of children surrounding him like he genuinely can’t decide who to disappoint.

“Go on, baby.” you smile softly, lightly nudging his shoulder. “It’s time to say goodbye to your new friends.”

Yejun sighs softly, clearly disappointed but he still looks up at all the other kids with a bright smile.“Bye everyone!” he says loudly. “I’ll come back!” he adds as Misun pouts at him dramatically. “You better.”

“I will!” he promises with complete seriousness and you can’t help but smile sweetly at the sight. 

Before leaving, you stop to hug Ms. Baek tightly once more, the older woman smoothing a hand over your hair affectionately while reminding you to eat properly and stop overworking yourself.

After saying goodbye to Seri and a few more volunteers and children lingering around the hallways, you finally make your way out towards your car with Yejun practically skipping beside you.

The moment you help him into the backseat and begin fastening his car seat straps securely across his chest, he bursts with excitement all over again. “Mama!” he calls out. “I had sooo much fun today!”

“I’m glad, my love.” you smile warmly, gently fixing the collar of his cardigan after buckling him in. “Can we come here again?” he asks hopefully, tilting his little head at you. “Please?”

“Of course, baby.” you say softly without any hesitation as you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. “We’ll come again.”

//

“Ma… where are we going?” Your tiny voice trembles softly through the darkness of the car, nearly drowned out by the violent storm outside.

Rain crashes relentlessly against the windshield, so loud it almost sounds like the sky itself is screaming. The wipers move back and forth desperately, but it barely helps as everything outside remains warped and blurry beneath the heavy downpour.

You sit curled up in the passenger seat, your small fingers tightly clutching the worn bunny plushie resting on your lap. One of its ears is half torn at the seam and its fur is rough from years of being held too tightly, but you hug it closer anyway, pressing your cheek against its damp little head. 

Your mother keeps driving with both her hands locked tightly around the steering wheel… her jaw tense and her eyes fixed ahead.

She doesn’t answer your question… not even a hum, not even a glance and for some reason you could sense that the silence in the car felt strange tonight. 

Usually silence with your mother feels normal… expected, even. But tonight it feels like something evil is sitting between the two of you but you’re just too young to understand what it is.

You look down at your bunny again before asking her another question. “Are we going far?”

Nothing.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your tiny sneakers swinging nervously above the floor mat and your wet little socks stick uncomfortably against your skin.

Outside, thunder rumbles so loudly it shakes the windows slightly and you flinch instinctively… still, your mother says nothing and somehow, at seven years old, you already knew not to push further when adults act like this, so you stay quiet and just sit there hugging your bunny while streetlights flash briefly across your mother’s face every few seconds, illuminating the exhaustion carved into her features before darkness swallows her whole again.

The drive feels endless… too long… too dark… too quiet, until eventually, the car slows.

Then stops.

You blink sleepily through the rain smeared windows, confusion immediately knitting across your tiny face as you stare at the huge unfamiliar building ahead and for some reason it looks terrifying to you because you’ve never seen this place before.

Your mother grabs an umbrella and steps out of the car quickly. The moment the door opens, the sound of the storm becomes deafening and you flinch hard. A few seconds later, your own door is yanked open as the cold wind immediately slaps against your face.

“Come out.” Your mother says flatly and you look up at her hesitantly. “Ma…” you call out softly, looking absolutely confused. “Come out.” she says again and this time your tiny body obeys automatically.

The moment your shoes hit the ground, they sink slightly into the wet mud as ice cold water splashes up your legs and you gasp softly at the freezing sensation.

Your mother grabs your hand firmly as she slams the door close, before pulling you along beside her.

You struggle to keep up as she walks quickly towards the building. The umbrella barely protects either of you from the rain and your sweater is already getting soaked around the sleeves while water drips down your forehead and into your eyes.

You clutch your bunny tightly against your chest, trying desperately to shield it from getting wet too.

“What is this place, Ma?” you ask quietly.

No answer.

“Why are we here?”

Still nothing.

You stare up at her face through the rain, trying so hard to understand what is happening but your mother doesn’t look at you once and suddenly you feel very, very scared.

By the time the two of you climb the stairs towards the unfamiliar giant double doors, your tiny legs are trembling from trying to keep up with her pace.

Finally, beneath the small porch roof, she stops. Rainwater pours heavily around the edges of the shelter while thunder growls somewhere overhead while you stand there shivering violently, soaked almost head to toe with your tiny fingers numb around your plushie.

Then your mother kneels in front of you and your heart lifts instantly because finally… finally she was going to explain, finally she was going to protect you from the scary thunder, finally she was going to tell you everything’s okay.

“Ma has somewhere important to go.” she says instead and your smile falters immediately. “I’m going to leave you here for a little while.”

Your entire face crumples in confusion. “What?” you ask, but she doesn’t explain further. “You need to knock on these doors after I leave, okay?” she continues as you stare at her blankly because the words don’t fully make sense yet.

“Where are you going?” Your voice comes out small and so, so frightened. “Why can’t I come with you?” you ask again with tears already filling your eyes.“I wanna come too.”

But like always, your mother doesn’t answer and stands back up too quickly. “Kids aren’t allowed.” she simply states. “So stay here and be good.”

And then she turns around.

Just like that.

Your brain can’t process a single thing as you stare at her back as she starts walking down the stairs again beneath the umbrella. For one horrifying second, your body freezes completely and then panic explodes through you all at once.

“Ma?” Your voice cracks violently but she keeps walking. “Mama.” you call out again, taking a shaky step after her and suddenly your bunny slips from your arms, falling forgotten into the rain soaked ground but you barely even notice.

“Ma wait!” You run after her immediately, tiny sneakers splashing through puddles while cold rain lashes against your face. “Please don’t leave me here!” you scream out, but she keeps walking. 

Your sobs become uncontrollable now, wrecking through your tiny chest so hard you can barely breathe between words. “I’ll be good!” you cry desperately, little legs struggling to keep up with her long hurried strides as mud splashes against your calves. 

“I promise I’ll be good this time!” At seven years old, being good feels like the only thing that might make someone stay, but still, your mother doesn’t stop. 

Not once. Not even an ounce of hesitation. 

The storm roars around you, swallowing your cries whole, but you scream anyway. “Mama please!” And suddenly… for the first time, she stops… so abruptly that your tiny body nearly collides into her and hope rushes through your chest so fast it almost physically hurts… simply because she stopped. 

Your mother stands there under the umbrella with her back still facing you as thunder cracks violently overhead, shaking through the sky and straight into your ribs. 

Water drips steadily from the edge of her umbrella while you stand behind her, completely drenched, shivering so hard your teeth nearly chatter. She doesn’t say anything for a few long moments as you stare at her back with your chest heaving.

Then, just when you take the smallest hopeful step towards her, you hear her mutter beneath her breath. “God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” 

At seven years old, you don’t even know what that means. Exhausted? 

You continue staring at her through blurry tears, shivering violently under the rain as your mother slowly turns around, and the moment you see her eyes, whatever hope had sparked inside you dies instantly. 

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” she snaps, her voice sharper than the thunder roaring above. You hiccup violently as rain continues to drench you, soaking your hair flat against your forehead and running down your cheeks with your tears while she doesn’t move even an inch closer. 

She doesn’t lower the umbrella above you… she doesn’t shield you from the storm. She just lets you stand there to get drenched while she remains dry. 

“I can’t breathe with you around me.” she spits. “Do you understand that? Every day it’s crying, needing, following, asking, begging… always something. Always you.” 

“Ma…” you whisper brokenly as you try to take another shaky step closer, her words barely making any sense to you. You don’t understand what you did wrong. You only know she sounds angry, and maybe if you get closer, maybe if you cry softly enough, maybe if you apologize enough, she’ll stop sounding like this. 

“Shut up.” she spits and at that your sobbing catches painfully in your throat. “I’m so tired of carrying something I never asked for.” she says.

You don’t understand… not fully, but somehow your body understands enough to start shaking harder. 

“You’re the cruelest curse I have ever had in my life.” she grits her teeth as she says it and something inside your chest caves inward. “Do you have any idea how hard you are to love?” she continues. “Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is the life I was supposed to have.” she scoffs, looking away for a second like even meeting your eyes is unbearable. 

“You… ruined everything.” she whispers and your tiny face crumples completely, tears spilling faster now, but she doesn’t stop. “You always ruin everything… and I never even wanted you.” she says, shaking her head as her eyes meet yours again. 

“I tried.” she goes on. “Maybe not enough… maybe badly… but I tried.” she lets out a sharp breath, almost like a humorless laugh, before taking a small step back.

“But I’m done now.” she shrugs weakly, like she’s talking about something ordinary instead of splitting your world apart. “I can’t…” her voice falters for half a second. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waking up every day feeling like I’m drowning inside a life I never even wanted.” she takes another step back. 

“So consider yourself lucky...that I’m leaving you in this place and not somewhere on the streets.” she finishes, giving your soaking little frame one last look, and what hurts most isn’t the anger in her eyes but the emptiness. 

There’s no softness there, no love, no visible regret… just exhaustion so deep it almost resembles hatred before she turns around again.

“Ma…” you can’t help but call out for her again, because somehow your little brain forgets every cruel dagger she’d just shoved into your chest…. because she’s still your mother… because none of those words hurt more than watching her walk away. 

Your feet move before you can even think. “Mommy, please!” you start sobbing again, already stumbling after her, trying desperately to catch up. “I don’t wanna stay here!” you cry harder, rain and tears making everything shake and smear together while your tiny legs struggle helplessly to match her long hurried steps. 

“Please!” your voice turns shrill with terror. “Please take me with you!” you keep begging but your mother only walks faster, like she’s escaping you, like she can’t wait to get away quickly enough.

Your feet slip suddenly against the wet mud as your knees crash violently into the ground and pain explodes through your legs and palms. A broken scream tears from your throat but even through the pain, you immediately look up towards your mother and what you see nearly kills you.

She was already climbing back into the car.

“No.” your voice comes out strangled. “No no no no—” you scramble up desperately despite your bleeding knees. “MA!” You scream so loudly your throat burns and the sound simply echoes through the storm.

But the car engine starts anyway.

“No please!” you beg again and again as you run towards the car with frantic uneven steps. “You forgot me!” your tiny voice shatters completely. “Ma please come back!”

The headlights cut through the rain as the car starts moving. “MA PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” you beg, now chasing after it while sobbing hysterically with your lungs aching, your chest feeling like it was ripping apart from the inside. “I’M SORRY!” you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. “I’LL BE BETTER!”

The taillights grow farther away… smaller and smaller.

“PLEASE COME BACK!” you keep screaming until your throat feels raw enough to bleed and just like that, the car disappears completely into the storm.

//

Your eyes snap open violently as a sharp shudder tears through your body and for a few horrifying seconds, all you see is darkness. Your chest rises and falls unevenly as panic still clings to you like something alive, your lungs struggling to catch up while your heartbeat pounds so loudly it almost drowns out everything else.

You blink rapidly, a bit disoriented, your damp hair sticking to the side of your neck as sweat trickles slowly down your temple. 

The nightmare still feels real. Too real.

You can still hear the rain, still hear your own tiny voice screaming for your mother to come back, still feel the burning scrape of your knees hitting the wet ground.

A shaky breath leaves you as you force yourself upright against the headboard before quickly reaching over to switch on the bedside lamp.

Your hands tremble slightly as you drag them over your face.

“Fuck.” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut for a second, trying to separate the dream from reality… trying to remind yourself that you’re not seven anymore, that you’re not standing alone in the rain waiting for headlights that will never come back.

But somehow, the nightmares only seem to get worse lately… more vivid, more cruel. You’re starting to think the sleeping pills are somehow making them stronger because every single time the nightmare returns, you remember something new.

Some tiny, meaningless detail from that night that your brain had apparently buried somewhere deep for years only to cruelly hand back to you piece by piece.

Tonight it had been the color of your mother’s nails… a chipped dark red. You remember staring at them while she gripped the steering wheel.

Last week, it had been the smell of her perfume mixed with the cigarette smoke lingering inside the car. Before that, the sound of her bracelets clinking softly beneath the storm whenever she moved her hand… the way her umbrella had tilted slightly to the left because one side was broken, the muddy water soaking through your socks, the freezing feeling of rainwater dripping down the back of your collar, the exact way the taillights looked disappearing into the storm.

It scares you sometimes, how much your mind remembers.

You exhale a shaky breath before slowly pushing the blankets off your body and getting out of bed.

The penthouse is silent as you step out of your room and quietly make your way down the hallway towards Yejun’s room.

You carefully push the door open, not wanting to wake him up.

A soft amber glow spills across the room from the little octopus-shaped night lamp resting beside his bed, its tiny silicone tentacles lighting up faintly in warm pastel colors meant to keep the dark away from your son who’s scared of the monsters under his bed. 

The glow paints his room in gentle shades of gold and peach, illuminating the scattered toys on the carpet, the half-open picture books beside his pillow, and the tiny socks abandoned near the foot of the bed.

And right there in the middle of it all is Yejun sleeping peacefully.

You sniffle softly, blinking rapidly as your eyes begin to sting again. For a moment, you just stand there by the doorway, staring at him and then quietly, so quietly, you step further into the room.

The mattress dips slightly beneath your weight as you carefully slide into the bed beside him, trying not to disturb his sleep but the moment your arm slips around his tiny body, Yejun lets out the faintest sleepy whine before immediately curling closer into you, his small hands grabbing onto the front of your nightgown while his warm cheek presses against your chest.

Your breathing trembles as you hold him tighter, burying your face into his soft hair that still smells faintly of baby shampoo. A tear slips silently down your cheek before disappearing into his pillow beneath your head as you press a trembling kiss against his forehead.

“I’m here, baby.” you whisper brokenly, even though he’s asleep as your fingers gently move through his hair while Yejun unconsciously snuggles even closer. “Mama’s here.”

//

— please drop a like, reblog or comment !! it would make me feel motivated and i would to love to hear your thoughts <3

part 2 ->

series masterlist - my masterlist <3

series taglist in reblog !!

//

part 3

When your eyes finally flutter open, a blur of harsh, sterile white hits your sight. You furrow your brows faintly and a soft whine escapes your lips as the blinding light from the ceiling overhead triggers a sharp ache behind your temples and the slight movement of your fingers sends a jolt through Jeongguk. 

He had been sitting completely hunched over in the chair beside your cot, keeping your hand tightly enclosed in both of his with his forehead pressed heavily against your knuckles like he was praying. "Oh my god..." he mumbles. "You're... you're awake." he breathes out. 

You squint back at him, absolutely disoriented as you try to piece together where you are, why you're hooked up to an IV and why Jeongguk is beside you, holding your hand. 

Catching on to your confusion and the way you try to push your body up, Jeongguk reacts automatically, leaning over you to gently catch your shoulders. 

"Don't move too fast." he murmurs, gently guiding you up into a sitting position and adjusting the stiff hospital pillow behind your back. "You're in the hospital. You... you fainted right outside the cafe."

Your eyes widen, a sudden spike of panic cutting through the residual fog in your brain. The last coherent memory you have is staring blankly out the window with a throbbing headache from the backseat of your car while Mr. Choi navigated the evening traffic towards Jeongguk’s cafe and everything after that is just an empty, terrifying void.

"Where’s... where’s Jun?" you immediately ask. "Don't worry." Jeongguk replies quickly. "He was with Jimin at the cafe and he took him back to my place just now. He's totally taken care of, I promise." he assures you and hearing that, the rigid tension leaves your spine making your shoulders drop in relief. 

Then, your gaze drifts down to the clear tubing of the IV taped securely to the back of your hand. “How long was I out for?” you ask softly, keeping your eyes on the needle. "And… what... what did the doctor say?"

"You've been out for a few hours..." he breathes out, rubbing a hand over his face. "It’s almost 10 o'clock now…. and well, the doctor said your body basically just pulled the emergency brake because of a severe lack of sleep, starvation and an insane amount of stress. He said you're incredibly overworked and your system just couldn't take it anymore." He lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

“Seriously, Y/n... what is going on with you?” he asks, and you recognize that look of frustration and disappointment all too well. You immediately look away from him. “I’m fine.” you say quietly. “I’ve just been working a lot. That’s all.”

"Oh, you're fine?” he scoffs, planting both hands on his hips as he looks down at you. “Y/n, you literally collapsed onto a concrete sidewalk. Unless the sidewalk was looking for a hug, that is not the definition of fine."

You let out a soft sigh and cross your arms over your chest like a petulant child, stubbornly keeping your eyes away from him. 

“And what the hell did the doctor mean by starvation?” he presses, his voice rising slightly. “Are you skipping meals? Are you not eating the food Junhee makes? God, Y/n, I’ve told you a million times, no matter how busy you are, you never, ever skip meals!"

The sheer volume of his scolding finally snaps your patience as you whip your head around to look at him, genuinely offended. “Why are you yelling at me?” you demand, though to your dismay, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the little pout on your lips. 

He closes his eyes for a brief second, pinching the bridge of his nose as he forces a heavy breath out of his lungs to compose himself. “When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” he asks, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

You look away again, but this time your brows furrow in genuine concentration as you track backward through the days, trying to remember and Jeongguk’s lips part in absolute shock. The fact that you have to think about it is a terrifying answer in itself.

“I think… Japan…” you mumble to yourself, still mentally scrolling through your chaotic week. “You came back from Japan four days ago!”  Jeongguk snaps, the sudden roar making you physically flinch against the pillows. “Stop yelling!” you shoot back, shrinking into the bed and sounding entirely like a defensive child. 

“Y/n, are you insane??!?” he breathes out, looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind. "4 days? You haven't had a real meal in 4 days and you're out here running a company? I know you’re a workaholic, but seriously?"

You stare at the genuine worry in his eyes and you wish you could tell him the truth. You wish you could confess that the skipped meals weren’t entirely because of your work. 

You want to tell him that the insomnia and the nightmares are back, that the nights have become a battlefield of exhaustion, and that you’ve resorted back to the sleeping pills again, something you had proudly managed to give up three years into your relationship with him.

You want to tell him how when you’re living on zero sleep and your stomach is constantly knotted with a heavy, hollow anxiety, appetite becomes a foreign concept and food doesn't even cross your mind when you're just trying to survive the day.

But you keep all of that to yourself. 

You swallow the truth down because you have to remind yourself that none of this is Jeongguk’s concern anymore. He doesn't hold the title of the person who gets to fix you.

So, you pull yourself together and scramble for a more plausible excuse. “It’s just... Bomi and Hobi’s wedding is coming up.” you explain, keeping your voice steady though a defensive pout still lingers on your lips from his scolding. “I have to take a few days off because we’re all flying down to Jeju, right? I’m just trying to clear my desk and finish a month's worth of work to make up for it.”

Jeongguk lets out a heavy breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s understandable, but this is still completely messed up. Your health is at stake, Y/n... Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you collapse like that? Imagine if Yejun had seen you. Imagine what that would have done to him.”

At the mention of your son, the last of your defensiveness evaporates. You look down at your hands, genuinely ashamed. Jeongguk watches the way you shrink into yourself and a flicker of guilt crosses his face. He hates scolding you… always has, but he absolutely refuses to stand by and watch you play russian roulette with your own well-being.

“So... how long do I have to stay here?” you ask softly, after a few minutes of silence as you look up at him through your lashes. He holds your gaze for a second longer, the anger completely draining from his expression. ”They're just running some fluids and vitamins through you right now. The nurse said once this IV pack is completely finished, you're free to go home.”

You nod at that as your eyes slowly scan the small cubicle before drifting to your phone that’s placed on the little bedside table and you extend your hand to reach for it. “Then... I guess you should head back. I’ll just call Mr. Ch—”

“No.” Jeongguk cuts you off, his tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. “I’m driving you home.”

You furrow your brows at him, your thumb hovering over the screen. “You literally don't have to do that. What about Yej—”

“I told you, he’s with Jimin, didn't I?” he interrupts you again, stepping closer to the bed. “Don't worry about it. Hyung is staying the night with him, and he’s already got everything under control.” he explains, making you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Jeongguk, that literally isn't required. I’m fine now, okay? I promise I’ll finish this entire IV pack and only leave when the doctor clears me. Mr. Choi can just come back and take me ho—”

“Nope.” he pops the 'p', his stubbornness matching yours beat for beat. “I’m taking you home.”

You groan softly, throwing your head back against the stiff pillows in defeat, but just as your head hits the cushion, your phone vibrates in your hand. A notification from Haeun lights up the screen, your brows furrowing in concentration as you read the preview. 

It’s the compiled minutes from the evening meeting, exactly as you had requested earlier before walking out of the conference room and your big ceo brain immediately tries to switch back on.

Jeongguk catches the shift in your expression instantly and before your thumb can even tap the notification, his large hand flashes forward, snatching the phone right out of your grip.

“Hey!” you protest, looking up at him in utter confusion and reaching for the empty air. “Nope.” he says simply, dropping your phone into his pocket. “Don't even think about it.”

“Jeongguk, give me my phone back.” you say, tilting your head up as you glare at him. “I really need to check that. It was from Haeun.”

“I know.” he chuckles, entirely unbothered by your death stare. “Which is exactly why you won't be checking it.”

“Jeongguk!” you whine. “Stop playing around. I’m serious, that message is crucial, okay? I really need to see the minutes before tomorrow morning.”

“And I’m serious too.” he counters, effortlessly stepping back out of your reaching range. “Doctor’s orders, and more importantly, my orders.” he shrugs. 

“You don’t get to give me orders.” you fight back, pointing at him. “Give it back right now, Jeongguk. I mean it… It’s my personal property, you can't just steal it!”

“I’m not stealing it.” he shakes his head innocently. “I’m holding it in protective custody.” he grins, leaning his hip against the bedside table as he cockily crosses his arms over his cheskt. 

You let out a frustrated groan, slumping back against the pillows and glaring at the pocket where your phone is. “You’re unbelievable…. Give it back. Now.”

“Make me.” he challenges and you clench your jaw. “Fine.” you grit out, throwing off the blanket and shifting your legs towards the edge of the bed. “I’ll just take it back myself.”

“Whoa, whoa, sit down!” Jeongguk instantly moves forward, his hands landing firmly on your shoulders to keep you from moving. “Are you crazy? You’re going to rip the needle right out of your vein!”

“Then give me my phone!” you demand, glaring up at him defiantly.

He looks at you, a little exasperated by your sheer stubbornness, before letting out a small sigh. “You know what…” he breathes out, still holding your shoulders. “How about this? You’ll get to check your phone only under one condition.” he says, making you arch your brows at him as you let out a sharp breath that urges him to just get on with it.

“Once you’re done with this IV pack, I’m driving you home.” he starts, counting the points on his fingers. “Then, I’m going into your kitchen, I’m gonna make you a proper dinner, and I’m gonna sit right there and watch you finish every single bite.” He tilts his head, keeping his expression stern. “Then, and only then, if you’re good, I’ll let you have your phone back.”

You scoff at his words, a dry laugh leaving your throat because you genuinely think he’s joking. There’s no way he’s going to actually hold your device hostage like a strict parent but as the seconds tick by and the stubborn, unyielding expression on his face remains completely stern, you figure out this man really wasn’t going to back down. 

Realizing you don't have the physical energy to actually fight him for it anymore, you let out a defeated whine, throwing your head back. “Fine. God.” you mutter, rolling your eyes away from him and swatting his hand off your shoulder. “You’re an asshole.”

//

You mentally try to shoot laser beams at the man currently occupying your kitchen as he moves effortlessly between the stove and the counter as if he isn’t holding your phone hostage. But despite the fiery indignation surging through your veins, you find your anger losing its grip, entirely derailed by the view. 

God, you've always had a shameful, deeply primal weakness for watching Jeongguk cook.

There’s something inherently intoxicating about the way he looks and acts while he’s cooking and from your vantage point at the kitchen island, your eyes track every single one of his movements. 

He’s rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, putting those thick, corded forearms on full display and every time he grips the handle of the skillet or applies pressure to the cutting board, the muscles shift and flex beneath his skin, making the intricate ink of his sleeve tattoo ripple in a way that makes your mouth go completely dry.

He leans forward slightly to taste something from a spoon and the fabric of his sweatshirt trains perfectly against the broad, solid expanse of his back and for reasons unknown you find yourself crossing your legs tightly. 

A few minutes pass until the fresh aroma of whatever he’s concocting finally hits your nostrils and as curiosity gets the best of you, you find yourself sliding off the stool and padding closer to the stove. “What are you making?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean in slightly to peer into the steaming pan.

God, it already looks incredible. 

Your eyes feast on the crystal-clear broth bubbling gently over tender shredded chicken, ribbons of fresh egg garnish and bright green scallions and your mouth instantly begins to salivate. 

Of course, this was the effect food made by Jeongguk would have on you after 6 long months. 

“Dak gomtang.” he replies with a grin, keeping his focus on the counter as he neatly arranges the tender, seasoned chicken on top of the rice noodles before ladling the steaming broth over the top. "And some cold cucumber salad to wake up your appetite. It’s light, so it won’t shock your stomach."  

Right on cue, as if answering him, your stomach lets out a loud, traitorous grumble because, god, do you only realize just how hungry you actually are.

Jeongguk chuckles softly, glancing sideways at you before gently nudging your hip with his own. “Go sit back down. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Within the next 15 minutes, you’re sitting across the dining table, slurping on the warm broth and true to his word, Jeongguk is actually sitting right beside you, watching you eat and making sure you finish whatever’s in your bowl. He also gently pushes the bowl of cucumber salad closer to your hand every few minutes, nudging the freshest slices toward you. 

Jeongguk had always been a caring husband…. someone who loved through acts of service and protecting you every chance he got. 

He had taken care of you exactly like this whenever you’d fallen sick during your relationship and marriage… the type of husband to brew warm ginger tea before you even had to ask and to stay awake just to press cool washcloths on your forehead. 

But the thing is, he has absolutely no business being like this now because, well… he isn’t your husband anymore.

You try your best to keep your focus strictly on the food and not at the way he’s looking at you… with those dark eyes that still seem to read every single shift in your posture, because god, this unexpected care is undeniably helping your physical health, but it’s absolutely obliterating your heart.

Once you’re done eating and Jeongguk clears the table, you stand right beside him at the sink, refusing to let him out of your sight until he delivers on his end of the bargain. “Okay, give me my phone now.” you demand like a spoilt child, extending your arm and showing him an open palm.

He grins, entirely unfazed by your demanding tone, as he runs the water over the last bowl and places it neatly on the drying rack. He lets out a soft sigh, taking his own sweet time to thoroughly dry his hands on the kitchen towel and only when he’s completely finished does he finally reach into his pocket and pull out your device. “Only 10 minutes.” he warns, holding it just out of your reach for a split second to lock eyes with you. “Then you’re going straight to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” you murmur, barely paying attention to his words as you snatch the phone from his grip with your fingers already flying across the screen, diving straight into the backlog of messages and notifications.

Jeongguk glances up at the time, noting that it’s already a little over midnight. He watches you make your way over to the living room, as you intently scroll through your phone on the couch.

He had promised you ten minutes, but because he knows just how much your mind thrives on being in control, he grants you a little grace period. He leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms, and simply lets fifteen minutes slip by in quiet observation.

God, it almost feels like he’s married again.

This is the first time in months, since the ink dried on the divorce papers, that he’s spending more than a fleeting moment in your presence that doesn’t revolve around Yejun. 

When you fainted outside his cafe earlier, Jeongguk felt his entire world violently ground to a halt. He had always known you were an overworker, but seeing you collapse like that, looking so terrifyingly fragile, pale and unresponsive, he swears he felt a piece of his own soul fracture and die.

While the doctor had been explaining your condition in the ER, all he could do was stand there and wonder how if he was still in your life… truly in it, the way he used to be, he would've never let you get to this point.

He couldn't help but imagine how these past 6 months have really been for you. Sure, he still gets to see you because you guys literally have a child together but that doesn't exactly cut it, now does it?

It's the agonizingly beautiful, mundane fragments of a shared life that he misses the most. 

He’s not there anymore to listen to you vent about your day, he’s not there to hold you close and run his fingers through your hair, he’s not there to make sure you’re not skipping meals or to wrap his arms around your waist while you sleep after a brutal day.

Jeongguk is fully aware that you’re a grown woman. He knows you're brilliant, independent and entirely capable of taking care of yourself but… well, you have your moments. 

You let yourself get entirely carried away, especially when it comes to your work. 

And the truth is, he has always loved taking care of you. It was his love language, after all and right now… he just wishes he could do all those little things for you again because if he’s being completely honest, a part of him doesn't care that the legal documents say you’re no longer together nor does he care about the strict boundaries dictated by a divorce. 

He has absolutely no shame left to hide how deeply and desperately he still loves and cares for you.

From across the room, his eyes continue to trace the delicate lines of your face. You look much better now, the color finally returning to your cheeks and a little bit of your usual fire reigniting your posture. He's just about to softly remind you that it's time for bed, but then his eyes widen slightly when he sees your hands reaching for the laptop bag sitting on the coffee table and he instantly frowns.  

“Hey, hey.” he immediately breaks his stance and starts walking towards you. “I thought I said 10 minutes.”

You don't even look up, your fingers already opening your laptop and hovering over the keyboard. “I just have some stuff to go through, it’ll take two sec—”

“Y/n.” he calls out sternly, making your breath hitch despite yourself as he towers over you. “You just came back from the emergency room. The doctor let you leave on the sole condition that you go home to rest. Not start working again.”

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh, still keeping your eyes on your laptop. “Oh my god, Jeongguk, it’s really not a big deal, okay? I feel perfectly fine now.” you lie smoothly, even though the screen is starting to make your eyes burn but you still continue typing away. “Look, thank you for driving me home… and thank you for cooking dinner, it was amazing. I did everything you wanted. I ate, I took the fluids, I’m fine. Alright? You can leave now.” you try to sound dismissive, to build that cold wall back up between you two, but Jeongguk isn’t having it anymore. 

Before you can even register his movement, he inches closer as his large hand reaches down and snatches the laptop right out of your grip just like he did with your phone back in the hospital. “Jeongguk !!” you groan loudly, your hands flying up in pure exasperation. “That’s enough! Give it bsck right now !!” you yell but he doesn't even flinch at your anger. He sets the laptop down on the coffee table, well out of your reach, and turns back to you with a look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

Before your brain can process what’s happening, he steps closer, bends down and hooks a thick, tatted arm securely behind the back of your thighs and with a sudden, powerful surge of strength, he lifts you right off the couch, hoisting you effortlessly over his broad shoulder.

“Gguk!!” you yelp, the nickname slipping out of your mouth in pure shock as the world tilts upside down with your stomach pressing hard against the solid muscle of his shoulder. The sudden rush of adrenaline makes your heart batter against your ribs, your hands instinctively coming down to grip the fabric of his sweatshirt for balance.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” you demand, kicking your legs in a desperate bid for freedom but Jeongguk isn’t budging. If anything, your struggling only prompts his massive hand to slide higher up the back of your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin with a grip that utterly locks you in place. “Nope.” he simply says and his deep voice vibrates right against your torso and it sends a wicked shiver straight down your spine. He turns on his heel, adjusting your weight effortlessly as he starts making a direct line for your bedroom. “You had your chance to do this the easy way. Now we’re doing it my way.”

You absolutely, thoroughly hate the effect his words… and his shameless lack of boundaries are having on you right now and more than anything, it’s infuriatingly impossible to ignore the way his body feels against yours. 

Has he been working out more? Because it feels illegal for his shoulder to be this broad and his chest this solid. Why on earth does he suddenly seem so… strong? Or was it simply because you had been starved of his touch for so long that your body was throwing a literal tantrum at the sudden, overwhelming friction? Honestly, you can’t even tell anymore. 

But as you hang over his back, you realize you’re fighting a losing battle. Let alone the fact that you're supposed to be pissed off that he’s treating you like a literal sack of potatoes, you absolutely loathe the way this position is making your blood run blistering hot and your heart beat in a frantic rhythm in two very different places.

“Jeongguk, this isn’t funny, I’m literally dizzy.” you manage to complain, your fists weakly beating against his broad back as you continue squirming in his grip. “Oh, so now you care about being dizzy?” Jeongguk scoffs, completely unfazed by your swatting hands as he continues carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “Your system wouldn’t be throwing a fit over a simple lift if you actually gave a shit about yourself.” 

“You’re being so fucking unreasonable right now.” you whine as your bedroom floor comes into view when he switches on the lights with one arm still wrapped around your thighs. He doesn’t respond to your whining as he pauses right beside the mattress and when you feel him shift his grip, for a terrifying second, you think he’s just going to drop you. 

Instead, he slides you down his front carefully, letting your body drag against his solid frame until your butt lands on the mattress, pushing you back against it. 

Your breath hitches as he hovers over you slightly, both his hands planted on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you beneath him. “Now…” he murmurs, his face just inches away from yours. “Are you going to lay your stubborn ass down under these covers, or do I need to hold you down myself? Because trust me, Y/n, I will.”

You glare up at him, your chest heaving as you desperately try to summon enough spite to break the spell he has over you but when you don’t reply, too hyper-aware of the heavy pressure of his thighs bracketing yours to actually form words, Jeongguk just smirks. “Now, you better go to sleep.” he says. “And don’t even think about getting up again because I’m going to be sitting right outside on the couch, and I won’t hesitate to carry your ass right back in here just like I did now. Clear?”

You want to groan, you want to complain, throw a fit and tell Jeongguk that he doesn't get to boss you around like this but all you can do is lie flat on the mattress and glare up at him as he slowly straightens himself up. He eyes you one last time, his gaze lingering on your face for a brief moment before turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom. 

//

You toss and turn on the mattress, clicking your tongue every now and then as you shift against the sheets. It’s been a good few hours since Jeongguk left you here, and much like most nights, sleep takes its own sweet time finding you.

Truth be told, you are utterly exhausted and now that you were left alone with your thoughts, you feel a heavy wave of guilt washing over you. You feel like absolute shit for making Jeongguk take care of you the way he did today. 

You knew he had an incredibly busy day at the cafe, with the whole coffee truck order thing, and yet he had dropped everything the second you collapsed, just to nurse you back to health while you’d spent the whole evening being a stubborn brat about it.

Letting out a soft, defeated sigh, you finally sit up on the mattress. For the past few hours, a single question has been looping through your mind… Is he actually still outside?

You’ve been dying of curiosity this whole time, but you hadn't possessed the strength, or perhaps the courage, to go and check because you didn't know if you’d be happy to see him or disappointed if he’d actually given up and gone home.

Unable to bear the agony of not knowing anymore, you slide out of bed as your bare feet pad silently towards the door, making sure to cause as little sound as possible against the floorboards. You turn the knob slowly, cracking the door open just enough to peek out into the dark hallway first, before slowly making your way outside.

The penthouse is bathed in the soft silver glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows. As you quietly round the corner into the living room, your breath hitches in your throat.

Jeongguk is sprawled out on your couch, completely knocked out. He’s lying on his back, his head tilted at an awkward angle against the armrest with his mouth slightly open. His tattooed arm has completely slipped off the cushions, his knuckles nearly brushing the floor below. 

Your eyes soften instantly, before you inch closer until you’re standing right beside the couch. You slowly crouch down, sinking to his level until your face is just inches from his. 

You tilt your head, as you look at him and your hand moves before your brain can stop it. Your fingers instinctively come up, hovering in the air before gently pushing away a stray lock of dark hair that was prickling against his closed eyelid. 

He stirs slightly at the touch, letting out a soft sigh that fans across your skin and your heart skips a beat as you freeze but every nerve ending in your body screams at you to lean in further, to press your palm against the warmth of his cheek and to trace the jaw you used to kiss every single night.

But reality catches up to you as your fingers simply hover just a single millimeter above his skin. 

Even after everything, you had upended his entire day and this man was still here to take care of you. The absolute least you can do to repay him is to go back inside and force yourself to rest, instead of disrupting his sleep and lingering over him like a ghost of the life you ruined with your own two hands. 

You quietly stand up, but before you can retreat to your bedroom, you make sure to find a blanket and drape it over his frame. Jeongguk hums softly in his sleep, instinctively burying his chin into the plush warmth and you smile at the sight fondly. 

Once that’s done, you turn away and walk back to your bedroom and slip under the covers, closing your eyes as sleep finally, mercifully claims you.

// 

The morning light breaks aggressively through the living room windows, hitting Jeongguk square in the eyes. He flutters them open with a soft wince when he feels his neck ache from sleeping on a sofa that was definitely not built for sleeping.

He slowly rubs the sleep from his eyes and smacks his lips together as his eyes land on the thick blanket draped over him and a slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips because he already knows who’s job this was. He proceeds to stretch his arms and legs as his joints pop loudly and he stands up, running a hand through his messy bedhead, heading straight for your bedroom to check on you. 

“Y/n?” he murmurs raspily, cracking the door open and peeking in slightly only to see that the bed is empty with the sheets neatly tossed aside and right on cue, the muffled sound of the shower running echoes from the bathroom.

You were already up and showering? 

He closes the door quietly and detours to the hallway bathroom to quickly freshen up. 

20 minutes later, he’s in the kitchen, busy cooking breakfast when the sound of your bedroom door opening makes him look up and he watches you step out of the hallway. You’re fully dressed in a tailored charcoal blazer dress that hits mid-thigh, showing off the dangerous curve of your legs with your hair styled to perfection and your makeup fully done, completely concealing all the exhaustion from the night before. 

As you glide past the kitchen, barely even looking at him, the subtle scent of your signature perfume cuts through the aroma of the food he’s cooking and Jeongguk feels a very sudden, very specific tingle spark to life in the lower half of his body. 

His eyes trace the mesmerizing sway of your hips in that short dress, and it’s honestly embarrassing because he feels like a hormonal teenage boy who just caught sight of his dream girl. 

He has to forcibly clamp down on the sudden, vivid mental images popping up in his head right now and swallow hard, his throat suddenly bone-dry as he aggressively forces his brain to snap back to reality because apart from the fact that you look absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous and that the sheer, mouthwatering sight of you has successfully knocked the wind clean out of his lungs, the rational part of his brain is not remotely pleased. 

“You’re going to work?” he frowns, watching you pause right by the coffee table where your phone and laptop stay untouched since last night. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “Um, yes? And shouldn’t you be going too? Don’t you have that coffee truck order to take care of this morning?”

Jeongguk lets out an exasperated sigh as he switches off the stove and sets the spatula down but just as he takes a step towards you to begin his lecture, your phone rings loudly and your fingers fly to the screen, answering it. “Ah, Haeun. Good morning. Yes, I’m actually just on my way to the—”

You don't get to finish your sentence because for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you feel your phone get snatched right out of your grip but before you can even open your mouth to scream bloody murder, Jeongguk is already pressing the device to his ear. “Haeun-ssi!” he calls out, his voice practically dripping with artificial sunshine as he intentionally turns his back to you.

You stand there, absolutely bewildered with your hands suspended in the air because what ridiculous new stunt was your ex-husband pulling right now?

“Mr. Jeon?” Haeun’s voice carries a flicker of surprise, on the other end of the line. “Hello. Is… everything alright? I was calling to review Ms. Min's morning schedule.”

“Hello, Haeun-ssi! It’s been a while.”Jeongguk chuckles warmly, pacing away from you towards the kitchen counter. “Jeongguk, stop it! Give me my pho—” you try to whisper-yell, as you follow him, reaching over his broad shoulder to grab your phone back, but he simply uses his height to his advantage, shifting the phone to his other ear and stepping out of your reach.

“Right, so, I just wanted to personally give you a heads-up that your boss won’t be coming into the office for the next few days.” he announces casually, making your eyes widen. 

“I beg your pardon?” Haeun responds through the phone. “Is there an emergency, Mr. Jeon?”

“Well, you see, your boss was rushed to the ER last night because she decided to pass out cold on the sidewalk.” he explains and you pause in your tracks, clenching your jaw so hard it aches. This man was really testing the absolute limits of your sanity today.

“What?!” Haeun gasps, and her voice is so loud you almost hear her through the speaker. “Oh my god. I... I had no idea. Is she alright? What happened?”

“Don’t worry, she’s doing much better now.” Jeongguk simply says, keeping all the details under the rug. “She was discharged last night, but she strictly needs to rest… so I’m sure a secretary as competent as you can handle things at the company without her running herself into the ground for a few days, right?” He lets out a sweet chuckle. 

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Without a doubt.” Haeun agrees instantly and hearing your own secretary completely defect to your ex-husband's side makes you let out a low groan. 

You throw your head back, clenching your fists as you stomp away towards the living room couch. You need physical distance, because a few more inches of proximity might actually result in you throwing a very very ugly punch straight into his handsome face.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk continues, watching your furious retreat. “You can contact her only if the building is actively on fire or if it’s an absolute crisis. Otherwise, she’ll just occasionally check emails from bed. I’m sure that works for you, yeah?”

“Of course, Mr. Jeon.” Haeun replies. “Please assure Ms. Min that she doesn’t need to worry about a single thing. I will personally oversee the restructuring of her calendar and make sure that everything is completely taken care of. Please ensure she gets the rest she requires.”

“That’s wonderful, Haeun-ssi.” Jeongguk beams with a victorious smile. “Truly. I always knew you were the most competent employee in that entire building.” He chuckles smoothly, giving you a look that says checkmate.

Once Jeongguk ends the call, you stand there, absolutely seething with your hands clamped tightly onto your hips. “What the fuck was that?” you ask, your voice dangerously low. “What do you think it was?” Jeongguk challenges, arching a brow as he casually leans back against the counter, crossing his arms and you swear that smug look on his face is your last fucking straw.

“Jeongguk, seriously, that’s enough! I get your point, okay? I really do! I’ve been getting your point since last night, but this is just too much!” you scream. “We are not together anymore… so you don't fucking get to do this!” you continue, pointing a trembling finger at him. “This is my company!!” you continue. “I can’t just disappear from my responsibilities because of a single health scare. This happens to anyone who works hard! If I decide to just slack off and hide away in bed, the fallout lands squarely on me because I have thousands of employees depending on me—”

“But Yejun has one mom!” he fires back, cutting you off as his voice echoes through the penthouse. “Yejun has one mom who needs to not pass out on some fucking pavement on a random evening!!”

That single sentence hits you like a physical blow and somehow knocks every single word out of your vocabulary, making you freeze as you just stare at him with your lips parted but completely silent.

Jeongguk lets out a ragged, trembling breath as he slowly steps out of the kitchen, walking towards you and stopping just inches away. “I know work is important to you…” he says softly. “I always have…. and… and I understand it more than anyone… trust me, Y/n, I really do.”

As the words leave him, something twists painfully in his chest because he wants to desperately say everything he failed to say 6 months ago. That he never hated your work, never hated your ambition, never resented the late nights, the endless calls, the impossible schedules.

If anything, he had been proud of you, of the empire you built with your own hands… that he was so fucking proud of the woman who carried impossible pressure and still stood tall, proud even when it hurt him… even when he felt left behind… even when he missed you so fucking much. 

But this wasn’t the time for old regrets… so he swallows all of it.

“Y/n…” he breathes out, his voice softening. “You need a break.” he says as his fingers twitch at his side, fighting the primal urge to reach out, cup your jaw and just pull you close against his chest until you finally stop fighting. “Just think about it…” he says quietly. “If you take a few days off, you’ll… you’ll feel better. You need some rest, Y/n… so that whatever happened yesterday doesn't happen again.” he mutters the last part as he takes the tiniest step closer to you 

“You don’t even have to do it for me, Y/n. Do it for Yejun.” he pleads softly. “I know how much you love him. I know you’ve been an absolute superhero of a mom to him, but wouldn’t it be a million times better if you were healthy, too? Wouldn't it be nice f0r Yejun to have a mom who isn’t constantly running herself on fumes? A mom who isn’t passing out because of starvation and exhaustion?” 

You close your eyes for a brief second, the fight completely draining out of you as you slightly turn your body to the side, breaking the intense eye contact and run a trembling hand through your perfectly styled hair.

You want to so badly tell him that staying away from work won’t fix anything... it won’t heal you, won’t instantly make you feel better. If anything, you think it’ll only drown you further because work is the only thing keeping your head above the water right now. 

You don’t think you can survive just sitting idle inside this massive penthouse, where in the silence, there would be nothing left to distract you from yourself. 

There would be too much room to think… too much room to replay every single thing you ruined with your own hands, the choices you made, the distance you created… the marriage you let fracture piece by piece while convincing yourself you were doing everything for the right reasons.

You love your job… you always have but over the past few months, it stopped being just work. Somewhere along the way, it became a way of coping. The constant calls, meetings, contracts, decisions, flights, numbers… every exhausting demand gave your mind something else to latch onto so it wouldn’t spiral inward. 

If you kept moving, you didn’t have to sit with grief. If you worked until your body physically ached, you didn’t have to feel how empty everything else had become. If you pushed yourself to the point of collapse, then maybe… just maybe, you’d be exhausted enough to steal a few fractured hours of restless sleep without lying awake replaying regrets until sunrise. 

And yet… you can see where Jeongguk’s coming from and deep down, you know he’s right because more than anything, you never want Yejun to see you the way you were yesterday.

You never want his small, bright eyes to witness your body giving out in ways that felt frighteningly unfamiliar even to yourself. You never want him to remember you pale and shaking, too weak to stand on your own, looking less like someone he trusted and more like someone breaking apart in front of him.

And you know Jeongguk thinks this… your fainting, your exhaustion, your unraveling, is because you’ve overworked yourself into the ground and maybe part of it is, but it feels easier to let him believe it’s only that than to explain the whole truth… that this was never just about work. 

So when you finally look back at him, seeing that genuine worry swimming so openly in his eyes, you realize there’s no point fighting anymore.

Your shoulders sag as the anger leaves your body and you exhale softly. “Fine.” 

//

You sit on the leather couch, mindlessly switching through channels on your television… none of them capable of holding your attention for more than a few seconds.

It had been a few hours since Jeongguk finally left to go about his work but before he had reluctantly walked out the door, he hovered over you until you had finished every last bite of the breakfast he had prepared for you. 

Then he’d also spent another 45 minutes in the kitchen prepping a full lunch for you and had carefully packed it away in the fridge, leaving a neatly written sticky note on it detailing the exact microwave time it needed along with a verbal threat that he would know if the container hadn't been moved.

One thing you had to admit, food always easily went down your system whenever it was cooked by Jeongguk and it seemed like that rule still held absolute custody over your body, even after the divorce.

It wasn't for a lack of options. Junhee, the cook you had employed was wonderful and her primary mandate was ensuring Yejun had nutritious, home-cooked meals whenever he stayed over at the penthouse. 

Junhee was a certified culinary artist… her presentation was flawless, her flavors balanced and her execution textbook perfect. But whenever she set a plate down in front of you, your appetite would just… instantly vanish. 

Maybe it was a psychological side effect of everything you were going through or maybe you were just an ungrateful bitch with a broken palate… you honestly didn't know.

On your better days, you would force down a few polite bites to justify her salary, but on most nights, you would just let the meals sit on the marble counter, staring at them blankly until they grew cold. Then, you'd dutifully store them away in the fridge, only to watch them inevitably spoil over the week until you eventually scraped them straight into the trash. It was a wasteful, pathetic cycle but your stomach simply refused to cooperate.

Yet, the moment you tasted Jeongguk’s cooking last night for the first time again in months, it seemed like the stubborn internal strike instantly ended because you didn't just tolerate the food; you actually wanted to keep eating.

It was as if your physical form harbored its own fiercely loyal muscle memory of the years he spent taking care of you, recognizing his specific touch on a cellular level. Your nervous system knew the exact way he chopped vegetables, the specific ratio of garlic he used and the loving warmth that went into everything he made. 

So, the moment that familiarity hit your tongue again, the defensive walls your body built simply crumbled, gladly accepting his food without making you want to throw it all back up.

A selfish part of you can't help but wish he could just keep cooking for you again because you genuinely think Jeongguk’s food alone could probably fix at least fifty percent of your problems but well... you were pretty sure there wasn't a single co-parenting handbook on the market that advocated for using your ex-husband as a premium emotional support chef and you were simply going to have to accept the fact that your private, 3-meals-a-day personal chef privileges had officially expired the exact second you signed the final page of those divorce papers. 

Left to your own devices, you spent the rest of the day attempting to master the art of doing absolutely nothing.

For a woman whose brain normally runs at a million miles an hour, navigating a forced day of rest was pure torture. 

First, you tried to read a book, but your eyes just scanned the same paragraph 4 times while your mind drifted back to whether the emerald-encrusted bridal line should launch first in Paris or Seoul. Then, you tried to meditate, which lasted exactly 3 minutes before you found yourself wondering whether the celebrity ambassador contract had been finalized.

At one point, you actually resorted to organizing your skincare rack by product height, a silly attempt to find some semblance of executive control but eventually, the pointlessness of it all caught up to you. 

Letting out a soft, defeated sigh, you glance at the time, noting that it was a little over six in the evening now and you find yourself wondering if you should just go pick up Yejun from daycare yourself. 

But just as you reach for your phone to call Jeongguk and ask him if he’s already on his way there, the electronic beep of your front door passcode being entered echoes through the foyer and just as the lock clicks open—

“Mamaaaaa!” Yejun comes barreling into the living room, his little feet slapping against the floor as he runs straight for you. The suffocating silence that had been weighing down the penthouse for hours instantly evaporates as you break into the widest, most genuine smile you’ve worn all day. 

Yejun launches his small body into your chestwith a breathless fit of giggles as you gladly open your arms for him and swoop him up, burying your face in his hair before settling him securely on your lap. “Hello, my love.” you coo, pressing a flurry of soft kisses against his chubby cheeks. 

“Mama…” Yejun pulls away instantly, looking at you with wide eyes. “Daddy told me you were sick… what happened, mama?” he asks softly, placing a tiny hand against your cheek. “Does it hurt anywhere, mama? Do you need a band-aid?”

Just then, you look up to see Jeongguk walking into the living room with Yejun’s backpack slung over one of his shou;ders, while his hands carry two heavily overfilled paper bags bursting with fresh groceries.

This is definitely a new sight, considering it has never happened during any of the previous drop-offs and it somehow feels like a massive breach of the unspoken protocol you've both maintained for the past few months.

However, you decide to address it later, turning your focus back to your worried son. “Mama’s completely fine, baby.” you assure him, capturing his tiny hand in yours and pressing a small kiss right into his palm. “I was just a little tired and sick yesterday, but I'm all good now… I promise.” you smile softly as your nails gently brush his soft hair away from his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn't come pick you up at Daddy’s cafe yesterday, bug.”

“This little guy spent the entire car ride giving me a lecture on how he's a big boy now and needs to take care of his mama. He even packed his stethoscope just in case.” Jeongguk finally chuckles, placing the bags of groceries on the marble island. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t mad at you at all. Isn’t that right, Jun?”

Yejun nods vigorously at his father's words, his little bottom lip jutting out in a serious pout. “I'm not mad, Mama. I brought my doctor kit to make you all better!” 

Your heart swells so fiercely it aches as you giggle at your son, pressing one last kiss on his cheek before you stand up with Yejun hoisted onto your hip and his little arms instantly wrap securely around your neck, his warm cheek resting right against your shoulder. 

Holding him tight, you walk towards the kitchen island where Jeongguk is already busy unloading the paper bags. Your eyes scan the counter filled with vegetables, organic meats and containers of seasoning.

“What’s… all this?” you ask softly, the confusion from earlier creeping back into your voice. “Groceries for dinner.” he answers simply, not looking up as he carefully sets down a bunch of fresh scallions. 

“Jeongguk…” you call out gently, making him pause before he turns his head to look at you. “You… you don't have to do this.” you say softly, gesturing faintly to the crowded marble counter. “I can just call Junhee, she can come over and—”

“No.” he cuts you off, turning to fully face you. “I’m gonna cook for you until you go back to work. I need to make sure you’re actually eating and getting all the nutrients you need to recover. I can't just leave and wonder if you're skipping meals again.” he breathes out.“Please, Y/n… just let me do this.” he continues. “Honestly, I’ll feel a million times better knowing I’m the one feeding you right now.” his throat bobs slightly before he exhales. “Just… let me cook and take care of you for a few days.”

It almost sounds like a plea and when you finally look at him… really look at him, your breath hitches because his eyes give him away.

There’s no irritation there, no smugness… just worry.

The kind that looks like he hasn’t quite recovered from watching you collapse. His gaze lingers on you like he’s still checking every inch of your face for signs that you’re still too pale, still too tired, still one bad moment away from crumbling again and somehow that desperation hurts more than anger ever could. 

After the divorce, not once had Jeongguk been bitter towards you… not once had he acted cold, let resentment sharpen his tongue or thrown a single angry glance your way. 

If anything, the distance between you was entirely your own construction with your detached and cold behavior. You had built a fortress out of your own guilt, fully expecting him to fight back. You had braced yourself for his anger, almost begging for his resentment, because if he hated you for what you did, it would at least make the agony of leaving him make sense.

But it seemed like he never did.

And to know that even after everything, even after the way you broke his heart all those months ago, this is how his love… or whatever you think remains of it, still reaches for you… it makes you feel so so so undeserving of it. 

Because how exactly are you supposed to untangle yourself from someone who still looks at you like this? With so much concern, so much worry and so much… care? How are you supposed to convince your heart to stay sensible and stand by your terrible decision when he’s standing there practically begging to care for you like he never stopped wanting to?

“Yes, Mama! Me and Daddy are going to cook for you!!” Yejun suddenly beams, breaking the heavy spell between you as he wiggles excitedly in your arms, making both you and Jeongguk look at him with a fond smile. “Oh really?” you giggle nuzzling his cheek with your nose as Yejun squeals, wrinkling his face and throwing his head back in a fit of breathless giggles.

Soon enough, dinner passes by in a flash with Jeongguk hovering over you and Yejun, making sure both of you finish every single bite he puts on your respective plates. 

You try your best not to grumble at Jeongguk because it’s a little humiliating considering the fact that you… a grown woman is getting subjected to the exact same treatment as your 4 year old son. At least you were actually eating your vegetables, unlike Yejun, who was currently trying to camouflage his broccoli under all the rice.

Eventually, Yejun manages to leverage his ultimate weapon… his massive, pleading puppy eyes to convince both of you for a movie night. Neither you nor Jeongguk had the heart to decline him since it’s been a long, agonizing time since the last movie night with all 3 of you together. 

Finding Nemo is the choice of the evening as all of you curl up on the couch, with Yejun proudly claiming his territory right in the middle while Jeongguk sits beside his son, casually resting his long arm along the top edge of the backrest behind you. Every single time you shift and the top of your head barely grazes his fingers, his knuckles whiten as he fights the overwhelming, muscle-memory urge to just reach down and twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, just the way he used to.

You remain oblivious to his struggle as you listen intently, humming and nodding along as Yejun tries his absolute best to explain every other second of the movie to you. 

Instead of focusing on the screen, Jeongguk has his eyes entirely trained on you as he watches the gentle curve of your lips and the breathless way you giggle at your son’s enthusiastic commentary. 

Every little sound you make sends a violent flutter straight through his chest and he finds himself wishing that the past few months were just a cruel nightmare he could finally wake up from. 

He wants so desperately to believe that the space between the two of you is just an illusion and he prays to whatever universe is listening that this right here, right now, with his family tucked safely within arm's reach under the glow of the television, is what his life is always going to look like.

Yejun doesn't even make it past 30 minutes of the movie as he slumps sideways, falling fast asleep right against your chest with one of his tiny fists fiercely clutching a handful of your loose sweatshirt.

When you look down and notice, you smile softly, lazily patting his head. “I think…I should take him to bed.” you whisper as you begin to slowly shift, carefully bracing your arms to cradle your son without disturbing his heavy slumber but before you can even lean forward to lift him, Jeongguk is already moving. “Don’t worry.” he murmurs, leaning across the couch, his chest brushing slightly against your shoulder as his large hands gently reach out for Yejun. “I’ve got him.”

His knuckles brush against your collarbone for a fraction of a second as he carefully peels Yejun off your body and carries him in his arms. Supporting the little boy's head against his shoulder, Jeongguk carefully makes his way down the hallway towards his son’s bedroom.

When he steps back into the living room, he finds the television already switched off while you stand by the sofa quietly smoothing out the rumpled cushions and when you’re finally done, you turn to face Jeongguk as he purses his lips and slips his hands deep into his front pockets. “So…” he breathes out, awkwardly taking a step closer to you. “Um…” he looks away, his gaze drifting past your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’ve already prepped everything for breakfast tomorrow…” he starts, pointing a thumb towards the refrigerator. “You don’t have to do any actual cooking... I prepped some dakjuk and put it in a glass container right there on the middle shelf. All you have to do in the morning is pop it in the microwave to warm it up… I made sure there’s more than enough for both you and Yejun.” he explains while you nod slowly. 

“And, um…” he continues. “There’s also some side dishes in the small containers on the top shelf.” he adds and you nod again but you can't bring yourself to speak with the aching lump sitting right in the back of your throat. 

You are terribly touched by the fact that even now, after everything, Jeongguk still goes completely all out when it comes to taking care of you and it once again makes a sickening wave of guilt wash over you because you feel so entirely undeserving of receiving this level of meticulous care from someone you’re supposed to call your ex-husband. 

An awkward beat of silence passes while the words thank you just sit right on the tip of your tongue, but you keep your mouth firmly shut because you know with absolute certainty that if you try to speak right now, you might just break down and start crying on the spot. So you just keep looking down at your feet while Jeongguk’s eyes dart around the room before finally settling back on you again. “Will you… I mean, will you be able to drop Yejun off to school tomorrow morning?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or do you want me to come by and—”

“Of course I’ll drop him off.” you cut him off, quickly clearing your throat to swallow down the lump in your throat. “Did you think fainting one time would suddenly make me physically crippled??” You try to joke, letting out a small, awkward chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’m fully capable of handling the school run.”

“Right.” Jeongguk lets out a breathless chuckle, nodding slowly as his shoulders relax a fraction. “That’s great, then.” a small smile touches his lips, but before it can fully form, your phone vibrates in your hand and Jeongguk’s eyebrows immediately arch.

You glance down at your phone, but you don't even need to read the screen to know what he's thinking. You can instinctively feel the stern look overtaking his features because of course he’s judging you… of course he’s wondering which work-related email or notification you're answering past 9pm.

You roll your eyes, scoffing softly as you look up at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not work.” you assure him a little defensively, wanting to prove you’re actually listening to his lectures about overworking. “It’s just a calendar reminder for Bomi’s bridal shower next week.”

“Oh.” his shoulders visibly relax. “Right. That’s… that’s next week.”he nods slowly and there’s another brief silence between you two, before he speaks again. “Actually, that reminds me…” he starts, stepping closer. “Since we’ll both be heading off to Jeju for the wedding, Junghwan hyung said he’s completely up for babysitting Yejun. But…” He pauses, looking at you carefully. “If you’d prefer, I can also just ask my mom to come stay over at your place instead, so that you know… Yejun doesn't have to pack up his things. Whichever option you're more comfortable with.”

Bomi and Hoseok had planned a no-kids wedding, and honestly, it was the ultimate act of mercy for most of their friends. They wanted all their close friends who were currently surviving the toddler trenches to actually enjoy the wedding and the little getaway… to drink the top-shelf vintage wine while it was still cold, to let loose on the dance floor without scanning the room for choking hazards and to remember what it felt like to have a conversation that didn't involve the words "don't put that in your mouth."

And as much as the thought of leaving your son behind for a few days is a little bittersweet, a pragmatic part of you knows it’s definitely more convenient because managing an energetic 4-year-old in a completely different province while both you and Jeongguk are going to be busy in your respective maid of honor/ best man duties would definitely be an impossible task.

“Oh… well, if your brother is free and offered, then I think that should be perfectly fine.” you nod, your voice softening. “Jun loves staying with his uncle anyway.”

“Yeah. He does.” Jeongguk smiles softly. “So… well, that’s settled then.” He nods to himself, burying his hands a little deeper into his pockets, while you copy his gesture with a small nod of your own. “Anyways, guess I’ll see you… tomorrow afternoon, then…” he says and as the words leave his lips, you both finally look into each other’s eyes. “You know, I’ll bring over lunch…” he adds softly and you give him a tight smile, nodding.

//

When you first crossed paths with Bomi, the mere sight of her had been enough to irritate you.

She was everything you weren’t… a walking, breathing ray of midday sunshine who moved through life with an incandescent warmth. She was one of those popular girls who were so unapologetically bright and radiant. 

She’d laugh loudly, entirely without hesitation like a full on head-thrown-back sound that echoed down the hallways and made everyone else want to be in on the joke. She was so hopelessly talkative that she could probably even hold a riveting conversation with a brick wall if she wanted to and to add to the mix, she was also an absolute sweetheart. Everyone from the strictest teachers, who usually handed out detentions like candy, to the toughest seniors, who looked like they chewed glass for breakfast, absolutely adored her while you, on the other hand, were perfectly content being the school’s resident loner.

While you always tried to keep to yourself, it wasn't entirely by choice. Most of the students who came from privileged families avoided you like the plague, treating you like some tragic, walking omen of bad luck just because you came from an orphanage. 

However, as expected, Bomi was the glaring exception because she was the only person who consistently tried to approach you, and ironically, her relentless kindness annoyed you far more than the people who openly avoided you. The harsh rejections from your classmates made sense to you; they fit the cynical worldview you had built to protect yourself. Bomi’s warmth, however, was an anomaly you didn't know how to handle.

Moreover, something that absolutely weirded you out was her bizarre, almost supernatural knack for showing up in the most random situations.

Like that one evening when Heejin, the popular rich girl, had you shoved against the brick wall in the little alleyway behind school, calling you an "unwanted charity case" or that one afternoon when that asshole jock, Wooseok, had stuck his foot out in the crowded cafeteria, sending you crashing to the floor with a tray full of food while the entire room erupted into humiliating laughter. 

You don’t know how she did it, but in situations like these, Bomi would somehow manage to materialize from absolutely out of nowhere. She would boldly butt in, glare at whoever was bothering you, yell at them to get a life and then turn around, drop to her knees and quietly help you. 

Back then, you lacked the ability to understand genuine altruism, so your defensive mind twisted her intentions and instead of feeling grateful, you became convinced that she only helped you out of a deeply insulting sense of pity. You thought she looked at you and probably saw a sad, pathetic stray dog to adopt for a boost to her own conscience. 

But no matter how much you ignored her or glared at her for being annoying or flat-out told her to stop butting into your business, Bomi possessed the stubborn resilience of a golden retriever that had simply decided you were her person. 

So eventually, through sheer persistence, she went from shielding you from the nasty school bullies like a pint-sized bodyguard, to casually dropping her lunch tray onto your isolated cafeteria table as if she’d been invited, to happily waving you over to the seat she’d save for you before every class, to quietly watching in silent fascination as you sketched some pretty cool jewelry pieces on the empty bleacher stands and before long, she was also trailing right behind you all the way back to the rusted gates of the orphanage every single evening as she yapped endlessly about her day, completely unfazed by your silence… because she already knew she had won you over.

You can’t quite pinpoint the exact calendar date or the precise hour the shift happened, but Bomi had successfully thawed your defenses, until you finally found your dim world being lightened by the unyielding golden light of her sun. 

And right now, that very same girl, carrying that exact same brightness, only a little older and marginally more mature (though that part would be highly debatable), stands right beside you, looking absolutely breathtaking in her milk-white lace mini dress with her head tilted back as her sparkly wide eyes stare at the glowing sign of “Le Jardin d’Or”.

“Wait, so let me get this straight…” Bomi breathes out, as she continues staring at the brass lettering. “While I have been genuinely fighting for my life on the phone just to secure a two-person reservation here, you just… casually managed to rent out the whole fucking place?” she gasps, finally snapping her head towards you, her jaw practically on the pavement. “Y/n, do you have any fucking idea how insane this is?” 

You only offer her a deeply satisfied grin in response and right on cue, a sharply dressed host steps forward, bowing as he pulls open the heavy glass doors for the both of you. “Come on.” you murmur, looping your arm through hers and gently guide her over the threshold.

“Le Jardin d’Or” was a legendary french culinary haven owned by Kim Seokjin, the older brother of your dear friend Taehyung. Due to its popular demand and michelin-tier dining experience, securing a single table here was notoriously hard, the kinda place where even a 3-month waiting list was considered a miracle and since Bomi had spent the better part of the year complaining about how she would probably never taste their famous truffle souffle before she died, as her maid of honor you decided to use a little bit of your industry leverage and went all out just for her bridal shower. 

The bride-to-be follows your lead like a child walking into a fairytale, her glittering eyes darting across the velvet booths, the sweeping crystal chandeliers and the soft, ambient glow of the dining room. But the moment she steps past the grand archway and into the main lounge, she’s already gasping. 

Standing around a beautifully decorated long table was a collection of Bomi’s dearest college friends who had flown in from abroad, her favorite childhood cousins, a handful of her closest work colleagues and sitting proudly at the center was her mother and grandmother.

“Oh my god!!” Bomi squeals and without a single second of hesitation, she instantly springs forward, as she throws herself into a flurry of breathless greetings and hugs.

Eventually, the bridal shower is in full swing as the kitchen continuously rolls out course after course of the restaurant’s finest culinary masterpieces, paired with bottles of the most exclusive, vintage wine. One by one, Bomi’s loved ones begin passing around beautifully wrapped packages, showering Bomi with thoughtful tokens of affection for her upcoming new chapter. 

When she’s finally done gushing over each gift as she tearfully thanks everyone, you quietly reach down for the little wrapped box from your purse. “And here’s a little something from me.” you say with a soft smile as Bomi’s face lights up instantly. She takes the box from you, her fingers carefully unwrapping it and the minute she catches a glimpse of the luxurious velvet box underneath the wrapper, she freezes. “No way…” she gasps as her eyes widen at the embossed logo of “Valerra” imprinted dead center on the lid. “Am I actually getting a piece from Valerra for free?” she giggles giddily, her gaze darting to you in disbelief making you roll your eyes playfully.

Knowing your reputation, her friends and family lean in closer, peering curiously as they eagerly wait for Bomi to unveil the treasure inside. You simply keep your eyes on her, as she carefully lifts the lid of the jewelry box. Resting against the dark velvet is a breathtaking, custom diamond necklace that features a central yellow diamond, surrounded by a halo of delicate white diamonds that mimic the gentle, flaring rays of a morning sun. 

“I designed it myself.” you murmur softly and you hope she understands why you chose that specific diamond because you want her to know that she was as bright as the sun and had brightened up your life in ways that no amount of words could ever fully explain. 

A collective, awed gasp ripples through the guests at the dazzling beauty but Bomi doesn't join in on the noise as she just stares down at the glittering sun caught in the velvet box. “This…” she breathes out and you notice the way her eyes turn glossy. “Y/n… this is so beautiful.”

Before you can say anything, she’s already setting the box down on the table and leaning across the little space between you to give you a tight side hug. “Best maid of honor ever.” she mumbles, making you chuckle as you hug her back. 

Soon enough, the evening carries on again as everyone around the table takes turns sharing some pretty fond, embarrassing and nostalgic memories of Bomi accompanied with the occasional clink of wine glasses being raised in a toast while also losing themselves in the incredible food.

“You know…” Bomi begins again, as the lively chatter around the table continues around you. “I just… really want to thank you for this.” she lightly gestures towards the whole gathering you’ve arranged for her. 

“What’s with all the sudden formalities?” you scoff, cutting into your steak frites and taking a slow bite of the perfectly seared meat. “No, Y/n, I mean it.” she insists softly, her hand reaching out to gently touch your forearm. “I know…” she pauses to take a hesitant breath and the sudden shift in her tone makes you pause as your fork hovers mid-air while you turn to look at her. “I know these last few months have been incredibly hard for you…. and I know it couldn’t have been easy to put everything you’ve been going through aside to plan stuff for someone else’s wedding.”

At her words, you slowly purse your lips as the bite of food turns to ash in your mouth and unable to hold her sympathetic gaze, you turn back to your plate, your eyes staring blankly at the steak as you mindlessly trace the edge of the porcelain with your knife.

When Bomi had initially asked you to be her maid of honor… well, technically her “matron” of honor since you were, you know… a married woman and all, it was supposed to be a flawless mirroring of the past because Bomi had stood by your side as your maid of honor and you were meant to return the favor on the happiest day of her life.

At the time, you had been absolutely thrilled and the alignment of the stars felt almost too perfect, especially since your husband, Jeongguk, was set to be the groom’s best man because just like you and Bomi, it seemed like Hoseok and Jeongguk had a lifetime promise of their own as well which basically meant you’d be walking down the aisle hand in hand with the love of your life once again, but this time to celebrate a new beginning for Hoseok and Bomi, while standing firmly in your own happily ever after. 

However, with the recent turn of events, you’re painfully aware that walking down that aisle is going to be anything but sweet and simple and the heaviest part of the burden is the suffocating fact that it’s all your fault. 

Yet, it remains entirely unavoidable since it was almost like a silent truce between you and Jeongguk, because neither of you could even bear the thought of letting your problems cast a shadow over Hobi and Bomi’s perfect day.  

“You’re not just ‘someone else’.” you say quietly, keeping your tone even and Bomi watches you for a moment, her expression softening almost painfully. “I know…” she says gently, inching a little closer in her seat. “But that’s not really what I meant.” she breathes out and you already know where this is going so even before she says another word, your shoulders tense slightly.

“Y/n…” she exhales softly. “Even though you refuse to talk about things properly and keep pretending everything’s fine, I know these past few months have been horrible for you.” 

You don’t react immediately, instead, you lift your wine glass, taking a small sip just to buy yourself a second longer before having to look at her again.

“And don’t even get me started on last week…” she continues. “When Hobi told me you passed out, I swear my heart actually stopped.” Of course she knew. Hoseok probably heard it from Jeongguk within the hour it happened. 

“Bomi, I’m okay,” you insist quickly, finally forcing yourself to look at her properly. “It really wasn’t that serious.” you try your best to assure her, but Bomi just lets out a deep sigh, completely unconvinced. After all, she had called you the very next morning and scolded you for a solid ten minutes and clearly, she wasn't done yet.

“Thankfully.” she mutters under her breath. “Gguk told Hobi it was stress and exhaustion from overworking… but honestly?” she pauses.“I think both of us know it’s more than just work.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the stem of the wine glass in your hand because out of everyone in your life, Bomi has always been the one of the few people who sees through you the fastest.

“He’s been taking care of you though, hasn’t he?” she asks gently after a moment. “Jeongguk.”

You absolutely hate how immediately your heart races at the mere mention of his name but unlike the sharp, suffocating ache that usually accompanied his memory these past few months, this time it doesn't feel painful. It feels… fuzzy and… and warm… and that is somehow infinitely scarier than the pain because pain you can guard against… warmth, however, makes you want to surrender.

It had been about a week since you’d officially stepped back from the relentless, soul-crushing grind, begrudgingly following your ex-husband’s orders to take some time off. Of course, you had secretly broken protocol a couple of times, covertly logging onto brief video conferences with Haeun and your core team to discuss some urgent matters that demanded your final seal of approval but aside from those minor slip ups, you had actually… miraculously, been trying to rest.

Slowly, your body was finally starting to realize that the sky wouldn't fall if you just took a breath instead of always letting work distract you from everything in your head even though the sudden lack of chaos did make you feel a little restless and twitchy at times.

But on the bright side, the forced hiatus gave you some amazing uninterrupted time to spend with Yejun. You spent hours completely operating on his whimsical, 4 year old timeline and you even managed to take him back to the orphanage to visit Ms. Baek again and to also play around with the little friends he’d made there. 

You even allowed yourself a full day of some good old retail therapy, spoiling yourself with a few extravagant things you certainly didn't need. It was a superficial distraction, sure, but there was just something absolutely liberating about splurging on yourself just because you could.

When it came to sleep, it was still the same. You’ve started forcing yourself to sleep through the nightmares, all while still relying on the pills and you’re hoping the problem magically fixes itself. 

Yet, the biggest shift of the week came from a certain someone who refused to leave your orbit.

Jeongguk had been over at your penthouse constantly and thanks to him, your appetite was doing much better because you were actually eating regular, timely meals again. But aside from the physical comfort of having your belly filled, your heart was suffering a much more dangerous consequence since it seemed like it was rapidly losing its ability to differentiate the broken present from the unbroken past.

Being so close to him again, watching him take care of you again, watching Yejun cling to his father’s leg while he was cooking… god, it felt so so so… incredibly good.

Somewhere along the span of just a single week, you could literally feel your heart easily bending the heavy iron bars you had so carefully caged it behind but sadly, the fear that has itself rooted so deeply in you is still very much alive and thriving and you know that if you let yourself fall back into whatever dangerous, fragile hope you've been feeling, you will only end up pulling Jeongguk right back into the vortex of your own instability and worse, a quiet, insecure voice in your head whispers that you aren't even sure if Jeongguk wants to try anymore, or if he's simply acting out of lingering duty and care just because you're the mother of his child. 

Whenever you’d watch Jeongguk over the past few days, you couldn't stop your mind from wondering if somewhere deep down, he still loved you.

Actually, if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you knew he did because his actions were loud enough to prove that. The real, terrifying question wasn't whether the love was still there, but rather if he still loved you enough to ever want you again. Was there still a version of the future in his mind where you were his, or had he simply accepted a reality where you were just a painful chapter he was forced to close?

The question would arrive so naturally it scared you, even when you knew with absolute certainty that you didn't have the right to even let that question form in your head, especially not after everything you’d put him through because by all accounts, you had forfeited the right to his heart the day you walked away.

Still, your heart kept reaching for the possibility anyway… but the moment the thought appeared, your brain would immediately crush it and to save yourself from the agony of a rejection you knew you deserved, your mind would quickly construct a more logical conclusion that his tenderness was merely an extension of his love for Yejun. 

He was simply protecting the mother of his child because any damage done to you would ultimately hurt your son and it was easier to just think that way and force yourself to starve your own heart in the dark than risk pulling the pin on the grenade and ruining everything all over again. 

“Yeah… he has.” you finally reply. “How… has that been going?” Bomi asks as she gently pushes for more and almost instantly a quiet, defeated sigh escapes you as your gaze drops to your lap. “Well… he just comes over to cook and stock the fridge.” you explain, leaning back against the plush velvet of your seat. “You know how he is. Always so caring, always doing too much. He has this instinct to… look after people, even when…” your voice trails off, the words “even when he shouldn’t” catching in your throat.

“Do you…” Bomi starts again as you turn your head to look at her. “Do you… I don’t know, by any chance, see you guys trying again?”

Your breath hitches at her question because the truth is… you do see it. 

You’ve already envisioned a million different versions of that exact future. You see the beautiful, intoxicating warmth of trying again but you also see the inevitable aftermath: you see Jeongguk getting exhausted all over again, you see the heavy toll your instability takes on his bright soul, you see the exact moment the light dies in his eyes and you see the way he looks at you with that crushing despair… like you’re the hardest, most draining thing to love in this world. 

You see yourself ruining him twice, and that’s a reality you just can’t survive.

But before an answer even leaves you, Nayeon, one of Bomi’s cousins, is yelling for her from the other end of the table as she holds up her phone. “Bomi!! I’ve got Mina on video call! She’s devastated she couldn’t make it today and wants to see you !!” she explains, referring to the cousin who couldn’t make it to the shower. 

Bomi blinks, momentarily caught off guard before looking at you apologetically but you just offer her a small, urgent nod, silently begging her to go and once she slides out of her seat and walks over to Nayeon, you let out a trembling breath, deeply thankful for the sudden distraction because just as much as you love Bomi, you hate how transparent you become in front of her. 

//

“Jeongguk-ah, seriously! What kind of psychopath carries 6 shockwave grenades into the final circle?” Hoseok groans dramatically, tossing his controller onto the couch behind as his character’s elimination screen flashes brightly across the television. “Nobody plays fortnite like this. You’re supposed to shoot people, not like… fucking launch them into another zip code!”

“That just sounds like a skill issue, hyung.” Jeongguk simply shrugs with a cocky ass grin from his spot on the floor. “Skill issue my ass.” Hoseok mutters, glaring at the screen as a laugh escapes Namjoon from the couch as he leans forward to steal another slice of the pepperoni pizza from the messy coffee table scattered with empty soda cans, greasy pizza boxes and half-opened bags of chips.

“Damn.” he chuckles, taking a bite. “I didn’t know you took fortnite this personally, Hobi.” he jokes, making Hoseok only huff louder. 

Since Bomi’s bridal shower had effectively monopolized the entire Sunday evening, Hoseok didn’t exactly want to spend the entire time just sitting around and missing his fiancée and immediately suggested an impromptu game night with the guys.  

Jeongguk had offered his apartment as headquarters almost instantly, mostly because Yejun was staying over for the night anyway since you were out at the bridal shower too.  

Before Jeongguk can add more fuel to Hobi’s fire, he spots Jimin quietly emerging from Yejun’s bedroom, carefully pulling the door shut behind him. “Jesus Christ, Hobi hyung…” he exhales the second he steps into the living room, glaring at the man currently sitting cross-legged, looking mad as hell on the floor. “You need to lower your volume.”

“I’m literally speaking.” Hoseok looks up in disbelief. “There’s a 4 year old trying to sleep like… 10 feet away and whatever noise you’ve been making definitely wasn’t helping!” Jimin shoots back making Namjoon snort into his soda can. 

“Seriously…” Jimin continues. “If Jun wakes up thinking there’s a wild animal loose in the apartment, I’m blaming you.” he narrows his eyes at Hobi who merely scoffs before reaching for his controller again. “Traitors…. all of you.” he mumbles 

“Thanks for putting him down, hyung.” Jeongguk smiles, watching Jimin make his way over to the couch and plopping himself down right beside Namjoon. “Oh, please.” Jimin says immediately, placing a hand over his chest. “The pleasure was entirely mine.” his eyes crinkle into little crescents as he smiles. “It’s not every day Junnie specifically requests his Uncle Chim for bedtime story duty.” he says fondly. “I had to bring my A-game, you know because damn Gguk your son has standards…. I had to give him like 13 different character voices.” Jimin says, making Jeongguk laugh. 

“We’re officially out of fuel.” Hoseok suddenly points out, peering into the empty pizza box. “Let me order another round. Who wants what?” he asks, already unlocking his phone. As both Namjoon and Jimin rattle off their choices, Jeongguk glances at time noting that It’s a little over 9:00 p.m. now, and his mind automatically wonders how the bridal shower is going… or more specifically, how it’s going for you.

He wonders if you’re eating well and enjoying the food, if you’re genuinely having fun and the mere thought of that coaxes a soft, subconscious grin on his lips. He even wonders if you cried, because he knows how deeply sentimental these pre-wedding events can get, and despite the fierce, stoic armor you always try to wear, he knows exactly how tender your heart truly is especially when it comes to your loved ones. 

Eventually, the game night carries on as more pizza deliveries come by and right now Jeongguk effortlessly obliterates Jimin’s character on the screen. However, he gets distracted when Hoseok suddenly plays a video on his phone at full volume from the couch right behind him.

“What’s that?” he casually asks, glancing over his shoulder and instantly notices the way Hobi stares down at his screen with a hopelessly fond, foolish smile. “Nothing…” he giggles giddily, his eyes practically turning into hearts. “Bomi’s just drunk out of her mind and having the time of her life. She’s sending me all these ridiculously cute videos of herself.”

“Geez, look at you cheesing all by yourself.” Jimin comments with a grin as he briefly glances at Hoseok before returning his hyper-focus back on the screen and instantly seizing the golden opportunity of Jeongguk’s distraction to aggressively fight back and steal the lead. As Namjoon joins in on the teasing, laughing at Hoseok’s total lack of defense against his fiancée, Jeongguk’s mind suddenly wonders if you’re drunk too and before he can stop himself his mind is already spiraling. 

Will you be able to get home safely? Are you even sober enough to call your driver? He wonders if whatever dress you’re wearing is warm enough and if you even remembered to bring a coat but… knowing you, you probably didn’t. God… are you going to be okay?

“Alright, I think I’m gonna head out for the night.” Hoseok announces, standing up as he glances at the time. “I’m thinking I should just drive over and pick Bomi up, and maybe drop off her mom and grandma too. It’s getting pretty late and I really don't want them dealing with cabs or drivers this time of night.”

Jimin and Namjoon nod in understanding, entirely approving of the chivalry and watch as Hoseok grabs his jacket from where it’s thrown over the armrest and starts moving towards the front door. 

“Wait, I’m coming too.” Jeongguk says quickly, standing up before he even fully processes his own impulse and it makes everyone in the room pause and look at him. Sensing the confused silence, Jeongguk just shrugs. “What?” he says, grabbing his keys off the counter. “I’m gonna go pick up Y/n.”

He doesn't wait for them to dissect his answer as he looks over at Jimin. “Hyung, you’re staying over tonight anyway, right? Just make sure to watch over Junnie.” he says as Jimin quickly nods before exchanging a brief look with the other two and they all know Jeongguk far too well to question anything so Hoseok simply opens the door, waiting for him to catch up.

//

“Y/nnnnn… you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide worllddd.” Bomi slurs happily as she clumsily drapes a warm arm over your shoulder. You offer a breathless laugh, planting your feet firmly on the cool pavement just outside the restaurant as you hold onto her. 

One by one, Bomi’s cousins and friends begin to spill out onto the sidewalk, bidding loud goodbyes. Some lean heavily against the brick walls as they squint down at their phones trying to track their designated drivers, while others wave their arms to hail passing cabs.

Right behind you, Bomi’s mother, grandmother and two of her cousins hustle out onto the pavement, trying their absolute best to divide their attention between balancing a mountain of glossy gift bags and keeping a watchful eye on Bomi's swaying form. “Oh, sweetheart, let me help you with her.” Bomi’s mom says softly, adjusting a few bags in one arm while gently gripping Bomi’s waist to take some of the weight off you. “Hoseok called just a few minutes ago. He said he’s on his way to pick us up because he didn't want us trying to find a cab this late.” she says. 

Son-in-law of the year you think to yourself as a hazy smile tugs at your lips but before you can nod at her, a sudden wave of dizziness hits you, and you’re sharply reminded that you’re pretty damn drunk yourself. 

Still, you pull your shoulders back, trying your absolute best to act completely sober and play the responsible best friend. “Bomi, careful. You’re gonna trip.” you click your tongue softly and right on cue, Bomi squirms in your grip to wave at her friends who leave in a passing car and your own high heels wobble precariously against the uneven concrete. 

You catch your breath, locking your knees and tightening your hold on her waist, praying your ankles hold up for just a few more minutes until Hoseok’s car pulls up to the curb.

Barely 5 minutes pass before you see a familiar car pulling up and Bomi’s mother waves instantly, recognizing the vehicle, but before you can even begin to form a smile to greet Hoseok, another car pulls up right behind his and you squint your eyes because… hold on… is that..? 

You blink a few times, wondering if the many glasses of wine and champagne were actually playing tricks on your eyes, forcing you to see things that shouldn't be here because there’s just… absolutely no way.

But before you can even refocus your hazy vision, the door swings open and Jeongguk is already stepping out of his car.  

The sudden sight of him sends a jolt through your system as your grip instinctively tightens around Bomi, who is still very much dead weight and entirely drunk against your side.

You can only stare, completely paralyzed, as he walks in your direction and you’re just so caught up in the gravity of his gaze that you barely even realize the physical weight being lifted off of you, your hands slipping away as Hoseok gently and carefully peels a rambling Bomi from your arms, murmuring sweet, soft words to his fiancée.

“Y/nnnnnn! This man is trying to kidnap meeeee.” Bomi slurs, her loud voice snapping you back to reality as Hoseok lets out a helpless laugh, completely enamored by how adorable she is. 

You quickly look away, blinking rapidly to clear the lingering haze from your mind as Jeongguk finally stops right in front of you. You offer a tight smile to Hoseok, before turning your attention to Bomi’s mother and grandmother. “Please get home safely.” you say softly, bowing respectfully to them and they both step in close to wrap you in a warm hug, murmuring their thanks and telling you to rest well.

“Make sure she takes her hangover medicine… she’s gonna hate herself in the morning.” you chuckle softly as you pull away from them, directing your words to Hoseok, who is currently undergoing a full interrogation from his fiancée as he tries to convince her that he is, in fact, her future husband and not a random stranger trying to abduct her.

As the group finally starts to move towards Hoseok's car, you slowly turn towards Jeongguk and the sudden quiet between you makes your pulse spike.

“What… are you doing here?” you ask softly. “What do you think?” Jeongguk counters smoothly, looking down at you and you hate the way the arch of his brow and the tilt of his head makes your heart skip a beat. 

Before you can even begin to formulate a defensive reply, a sharp gust of the night breeze sweeps past your exposed arms and neckline, making you shudder and Jeongguk’s quick to notice it. He doesn’t hesitate even for a fraction of a second as he slides his jacket off and drapes it over your shouldrrs. 

“I’m here to pick you up.” he mutters, his hands gently pulling the lapels together to shield you from the cold. “You know I could’ve just called Mr. Choi,” you say, your voice softening as you look up at him. Jeongguk doesn't answer right away as his hands find the hair behind your nape that’s trapped beneath the fabric of his jacket and carefully coaxes the locks free as he gently smoothes the silk of your hair down your back.  

“Well, now you don’t have to,” he replies as he finally looks into your eyes. “Come on.” he says, stepping back to lead the way towards his car. 

You gulp before taking your first step and feel your feet wobble slightly as your ankles ache with a dull, throbbing pain when you feel the sharp, stinging burn of a fresh shoe bite. 

Fuck, wearing these new heels tonight was definitely a bad idea. 

Still, you stubbornly swallow the wince and instinctively clutch the long fabric of your dress, lifting it slightly at your knee to keep yourself from tripping and begin to follow Jeongguk. “Where’s Jun?” you ask as you reach the passenger side and Jeongguk is already there, pulling the door open for you. “Knocked out at home. Jimin hyung’s staying over.” he answers as he shields the top of the doorframe with his hand and waits patiently for you to settle in. Once you’re seated, he pushes the door close and rounds the hood of the car to get into the driver’s seat. 

The drive back to your penthouse is silent as you keep your eyes glued outside the window with your fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the zipper of Jeongguk’s jacket.

From the driver's seat, Jeongguk keeps stealing quiet glances at you, noticing the soft flush still painting your cheeks, a clear giveaway that the wine and champagne were still humming sweetly through your veins.

God, he has to admit, it’s taking everything in him to just keep his hands steady on the steering wheel right now, because you look so fucking gorgeous even when his jacket’s covering you. 

Back on the sidewalk, when he was walking towards you from his car, he’d had to consciously force himself to breathe. His entire system had short-circuited the moment his eyes landed on you standing there holding Bomi, wearing that stunning dress with the midnight-black silk draped over your silhouette, pooling elegantly around your feet, but it was that deep, plunging halter neckline that had made his breath completely catch in his throat.

He had tried his absolute best to be a gentleman, to behave and keep his gaze locked strictly on your eyes, but it was a losing battle because his eyes had helplessly traced the daring dip of the halter neck and the delicate lace detailing that wrapped around your waist, hugging your curves just right. 

In just that short walk towards you, he had already imagined tracing his fingers along the edge of that neckline with his fingers and lips but he quickly had to swallow that hunger down and force a mask of calm over his face. 

When the car finally glides to a halt inside your penthouse garage, you open the door and step out but the moment you put your full weight down, a sharp hiss escapes your lips because the friction of the movement makes the raw shoe bite on your heel burn like pure fire.

Jeongguk steps out of the driver's side just in time to catch the sour expression on your face and his eyes immediately drop, tracking the way you shift your weight and look down at your feet. He clicks his tongue, a soft sound of gentle exasperation. “Come here.” he says simply, closing the distance between you in two long strides and before you can even begin to protest, his hands are already moving. 

He slides the Chanel purse out of your hands and casually slings the gold chain strap over his own shoulder without a second thought. Then, bending down, he slides one arm beneath your knees, careful of the long silk skirt of your dress, and the other securely behind your back, lifting you up into his arms.

“Gguk, oh my god!” you squeak, the sudden loss of gravity catching you completely off guard as your arms instinctively fly up, wrapping tightly around his neck to steady yourself. 

Without saying a single word to justify himself, Jeongguk just shifts your weight comfortably against his chest and begins walking towards the private elevator. “I told you to tape the back of your new heels before using them to prevent shoe bites.” he says as he presses the elevator button with his elbow. 

You let out a quiet, defensive huff, but you can't actually argue. The elevator doors slide open and he steps inside, still holding you up effortlessly in bridal style. 

Once he makes it into the penthouse, only then does he carefully lower your feet to the floor, but before you can even attempt to take a single step, he’s already crouching down as his nimble fingers gently peel the heels off your feet. “Go take a seat.” he says simply, gesturing towards the living room before disappearing down the hallway as if he still lives here.

Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system or the fact that you’re actually quite exhausted, you find yourself silently obeying him as you pad over to the couch, and the minute you sink down into the plush cushions, you release a long breath of pure relief and lean your head back against the sofa.

Within a few minutes, Jeongguk returns, carrying a glass of cold water in one hand and a small first-aid kit in the other. 

He hands you the glass of water first and just as you take a sip, your eyes widen slightly over the rim when he drops to his knees on the floor directly in front of you. Without asking for permission, his hand reaches for your foot and places it on his thigh. 

“Gguk—” you try to move your feet but he holds it still before using a swab to dab some cooling antiseptic over the shoe bite. You wince slightly at the initial sting, your fingers instinctively gripping the silk of your dress, but Jeongguk immediately blows a breath of cool air over the wound to soothe the burn, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the sensitive skin near your ankle to distract you.

Once the sting fades, he unscrews the ointment and scoops a small amount onto his fingertip and carefully applies it over the little wound. 

Your breath hitches as you look down at him, tending so carefully to a wound so small and god… this is so so soooo not good for your heart because the shoe bite itself is barely anything… a few days and it would’ve healed on its own. Yet here he is, crouched in front of you, treating it with the same care he would for something far more serious.

Suddenly you become way too aware of his presence as the intoxicating scent of his cologne wraps around you, making your head spin faster than the alcohol ever could. 

You suddenly have the overwhelming urge to forget everything…. the walls, the fear, the divorce, the months spent pretending you didn't miss him and for one reckless second, all you want to do is just… reach for him.

You want to slide off the couch, throw yourself onto him, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss the heck out of him and maybe even shake some sense into him while you're at it.

Because why on earth is he still like this? Why is he so kind and so nice and so gentle and so stupid? Why does he show up every single time? Why can’t he just look the other way for once? Why can’t he at least pretend to hate you? 

The thoughts in your head suddenly become too loud, forcing you back to reality. “That’s… that’s enough.” you break the moment, your voice coming out breathless and strained as you quickly pull your foot off his thigh. 

Jeongguk’s hands freeze mid-air, his eyes instantly snapping up to yours. “Wait… what about your other leg?” he asks, looking up at you. “I’ll apply it myself.” you say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush and before he can protest or reach for you again, you lean forward and snatch the ointment right out of his hand and hastily gather the rest of the first-aid kit from the floor. 

“I’ll go change.” you manage to say and without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and practically flee towards the safety of your bedroom. 

Jeongguk sighs as he watches you disappear down the hallway. He stays on his knees for a beat longer, staring at the empty space on his thigh where your foot had just been, before shaking his head and pushing himself up. He stands up straight, but just as he bends down to dust off his knees he notices the pack of hydrocolloid bandages on the floor and he realises they must have slipped out of the first-aid kit when you hastily picked it up.  

Knowing that the raw, angry blister on your heel will desperately need the protection, he picks it up and makes his way towards the room you just disappeared into. “Y/n?” he calls out softly, pushing the bedroom door open a fraction and he instantly hears a faint rustle of fabric coming from your walk-in closet. “You left the—” but the words die in his throat as Jeongguk freezes a few steps into the room, his eyes squinting at the small amber bottle resting on the edge of your nightstand. 

He steps closer, momentarily forgetting all about the bandages in his hand, as he reaches out and carefully picks up the little bottle and when he reads the label, he feels his breath hitch. 

You were taking sleeping pills again.

Suddenly, the terrifying truth floods his mind and all the disconnected dots frantically connect in Jeongguk’s head.

You passing out on the sidewalk, the hollow exhaustion pulling at the corners of your eyes, all the skipped meals and your sudden lack of appetite… it… it wasn’t just about work. 

If you had resorted to relying on a substance he so vividly, painfully remembers you struggling to give up years ago… a dark chapter he had personally held you through, then this was something infinitely more serious.

Was the crippling insomnia back, leaving you staring at the ceiling for hours in the suffocating dark? Were you having the same old nightmares again? Were you waking up gasping for air, having panic attacks all alone in the middle of the night with no one to hold you until your heart slowed down? 

“What are you doing?” his train of thoughts are abruptly cut off and before he can even blink, the little bottle is violently snatched from his grip and Jeongguk whips his head to the side as his wide eyes collide with yours. 

You’ve only just taken off his jacket while you’re still wrapped in that criminal dress, but Jeongguk doesn’t even notice because all he can see is the pure anger in your eyes. 

“You’re… you’re taking sleeping pills again?” he questions, his voice cracking slightly and your jaw clenches so hard, a muscle jumps under your skin as you look away. “You need to leave. It’s late.” you deadpan and turn to walk away as you bury the bottle deep in your fist but in a flash, Jeongguk stops you before you can slip away, his large hand wrapping around your elbow as he pulls you back to face him. “Y/n, look at me. Are the nightmares back again? Is that why you haven’t been getting much sleep? Why didn’t you tell me—”

“Well, why the hell should I tell you about anything?!” you snap, violently yanking your arm out of his grasp. “What exactly are you going to do about it, Jeongguk? Huh? Are you going to crawl into my bed and hold me to sleep?” your chest heaves as you glare at him. “Seriously, Jeongguk, when the hell are you going to stop butting into my life and just mind your own goddamn business?!”

Jeongguk’s lips part in absolute disbelief as the sheer malice in your tone makes the color drain entirely from his face. “Y/n, this is my busines—”

“No, it’s NOT!” you roar, cutting him off before he can even breathe out the sentence. “Me fainting, me skipping meals, me overworking myself until my body breaks down or me swallowing a handful of pills just to get two hours of peace… none of that shit is your business anymore!” you say it fiercely even as you feel the burning, stinging sensation of tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “Do I have to remind you that we are literally not together anymore?!”

“So what, now I’m just supposed to stop caring about you????” Jeongguk finally snaps back as he steps closer, completely towering over you with his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m just supposed to not give a fuck anymore??? Is that what you’re sayin—”

“Well, YES!!” you yell, the words tearing raw from your throat and deep down, you know you’re being incredibly cruel and irrational right now, but you just can’t help it anymore. He’s getting too close again… pulling you back into his gravity… back into that warm, beautifully hazardous orbit where it’s just so easy to let him save you, and you absolutely can’t let it happen. 

You can’t let it happen to yourself, and more importantly, you can’t let it happen to him and right now, as you stare at him with rage in your eyes, all you can think about is how you have to push him away, even if you have to burn the bridge while you're both standing right on top of it.

“That is exactly what you're supposed to do!” you hiss, stepping closer until your chest is practically brushing his. “You literally do not have to care about anything that happens to me anymore… so stop trying to take care of me all the time and just leave me alone!!”

“Y/n, you’re the mother of my child!” Jeongguk fights back, raw agony vibrating through his shattering voice as his face twists in pure pain. “Of course I am always going to care!! Do you think it’s just easy to stop caring about you after everything we’ve been through??! Does that even make sense to you???”

“Well, it’s too much!!” you snap, shoving your hands against his solid chest to push him away, though he barely even budges an inch. “You can’t keep doing this, Jeongguk!! You can’t keep barging into my life and treating me like I’m still yours to save! You need to leave me the hell alone!!” you close your eyes tightly, absolutely frustrated. 

“Well, if the roles were reversed, would you???” he suddenly questions as your glossy eyes fly open, completely caught off guard by the raw vulnerability bleeding through his anger. “Tell me.” he demands. “If I was the one going through something like this… if… if I was the one suffering… would you honestly just sit back and not care about me? Would you really just… leave me alone?”

The question hits you like a physical blow because somehow even the fleeting thought of Jeongguk going through a fraction of the hell you’re enduring, makes your entire world fracture into a million bleeding pieces and you know, with absolute certainty, that you would gladly tear your own heart out or burn the entire world to the ground just to fix things for him. You would give up your own sanity just to ensure he never felt a single second of this darkness.

But how could you ever dare to say any of that aloud when the brutal truth is that he is already suffering and you’re the sole reason behind it. So, from where you’re standing, the only mercy left is to sever the tie completely… to save him from yourself, the only solution is to push him away farther and farther, ensuring he never looks back.

“Yes.” you breathe out, forcing yourself to become the villain he needs to see. You look him dead in the eye, burying the desperate love screaming inside you, beneath a mask of absolute ice. “I would.”

Jeongguk freezes, his entire body going completely rigid and you can practically hear the sound of his heart dropping into the lowest, hollowest pit of his stomach as he stares at you. “You… you don’t mean that.” he gulps, his throat bobbing heavily. 

“I do.” you say, looking away for a brief, cowardly second because you know if you stare into his breaking eyes for a moment longer, your mask will completely melt. You swallow the suffocating lump in your throat and force the cruelest words you’ve ever spoken out of your mouth. “I would not care because like I said… we’re not together anymore. Whatever happens to you, it’s none of my goddamn business.”

Jeongguk clutches his lower lip between his teeth as a bitter broken laugh escapes his chest. “How… how can you say that to me?” he asks hoarsely, his voice cracking violently on the last word. “After everything we’ve been through… after all those years together… you just…” his voice catches as he lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes tightly to stop the flood of emotion. 

When his eyes slowly open again, you catch a look at the betrayal swimming in there and you want nothing more than to just drop to your knees and beg for his forgiveness but you stay frozen, watching the light completely die out in his eyes.

“Till the end… you just… keep pushing me away, don’t you?” he asks, letting out a defeated breath. “You always do this. You push and push and push until there’s nothing left for me to hold onto.” he whispers and he’s got that look on his face again. 

Like he’s so fucking exhausted. 

Like you’re the hardest thing to ever look at. 

He stares at you for a long time as he tries to stop his trembling lips and his watering eyes, taking in the image of you just…standing there, as if he’s mourning the person he used to know, realizing that no matter how hard he pulls, you are determined to slip through his fingers. 

And when it finally gets too much, when the silence becomes too loud to bear, he turns on his heel and storms out of the bedroom. 

The second you hear the front door slamming close as the metallic click of the deadbolt echoes around the penthouse and reaches you in the bedroom, signaling that he’s truly gone, the artificial strength that was keeping you upright evaporates in a second. 

Your knees hit the hardwood floor and a choked sob tears out of your throat as you press your forehead against the floor, curling into yourself as the tears completely blur your vision. Your fist squeezes the little bottle in your hands so tightly against your palm that the edges dig painfully into your skin, but you welcome the sting because it’s nothing compared to the way your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. 

//

“I need the high-jewelry archive inventory pulled immediately and a private preview arranged for our VVIP clients.” you speak, the words rolling off your tongue smoothly as Haeun nods rapidly, her stylus flying across her tablet screen.

“Understood, Ms. Min. I will coordinate with the vault security and marketing right away.” Haeun says, stepping closer as the elevator reaches the floor of your office. “Also, I wanted to brief you on the Parisian gemstone auction from this past weekend. As per your prior instructions, our acquisition team successfully outbid the competitors for the rare pigeon-blood ruby. It has already been safely transferred to our local vault and is awaiting your personal inspection.”

You nod at that as the doors slide open and you step out as the two of you begin walking across the sprawling floor towards your office, your employees bowing and greeting you one by one on the way. 

“By the way, how… was your time off, Ms. Min?” Haeun asks a few seconds later as you approach the hallway leading to your office. “Are you feeling any better? I had assumed that you wouldn’t be back in the office until next week.” 

Well that would have been the case if it weren't for your mind going completely berserk over whatever happened last night and it felt like you were back in the cycle of throwing yourself into work like nothing happened just because you couldn't sit alone in the suffocating silence with your own thoughts for another second without completely losing your sanity. 

But you don't let a single flicker of that internal storm reach your face. Instead, you keep walking as your heels keep smacking against the floor. “I’m feeling much better, Haeun. Thank you for asking.” you lie smoothly. “Anyways, let’s not waste time. Please see if you can get the European design team in Milan on a video conference tomorrow morning. We need to finalize the custom settings for that ruby.” 

And just like that, for the rest of the day you bury yourself in work. You speak louder, move faster and demand absolute perfection from everyone around you and every single frantic action feels like you’re just desperately trying to ignore the crushing, leaden heaviness in your chest because you know damn well that if you let the room go quiet for even a second, or if you dare to allow yourself a single, real moment to just breathe, the dam is going to burst open all over again. 

When you notice the time nearing 6pm, the relentless momentum of your workday finally grinds to a halt as you remember it’s your turn to pick up Yejun from daycare today.

Mr. Choi insists on driving you there himself but you reassure him that you’ll be fine because you think you need to be alone before you have to put on a brave face for your son.

When you pull up to the daycare and step towards the entrance, the teacher is already leading Yejun out, and the moment his tiny, bright eyes find yours, his face lights up. “Mama!!” he squeals, instantly letting go of his teacher’s hand and his little light-up sneakers squeak against the floor as he runs at full speed right into your arms.

You waste no time in sweeping his small body into your embrace and holding him tightly against your chest. “Hi, my love.” you greet him with a giggle, showering his chubby cheeks with kisses as you securely lift him up onto your hip. After exchanging a few polite words with his teacher about his day, you carry him out to the parking lot.

You gently strap him into his car seat and Yejun is immediately distracted by the little storybook he had left behind in your car a while ago. As you close the back door and climb into the driver’s seat, you glance up through the windshield, instantly noticing how the evening sky is bruised with heavy clouds and you wonder if it’s going to rain tonight. 

Once you arrive back at the penthouse, Yejun does a beautiful job of momentarily chasing away the shadows in your mind, making you forget about literally everything else as you chase him around the tub as he mischievously splashes warm water right at your face, leaving you soaked but genuinely laughing for the first time in 24 hours. 

By the time Yejun is dressed in his pajamas, Junhee arrives to take over the kitchen. You had explicitly called her earlier this afternoon to arrange dinner because you knew with absolute, heartbreaking certainty that Jeongguk wouldn’t be showing up to cook or take care of you anymore. 

Not after last night.

As Junhee moves around in the kitchen, you sit down on the living room rug with Yejun on your lap to watch his favorite cartoon but you notice how instead of focussing on the screen, his little head is constantly turning to the side as his big eyes trace the kitchen entryway where Junhee is busy humming and chopping vegetables. “Mama?” Yejun asks suddenly, tilting his head up to look at you. “Is Daddy not going to cook for us today?”

Your breath hitches at the question and you try your best not to let your face twist into something ugly. “Well, my love…” you breathe out, gently turning him to face you. “Daddy was only coming over to cook because Mama was feeling a little sick last week, remember? But look at me… I’m all healthy and strong now! So Junhee is back to cook us yummy food.”

Yejun goes quiet for a moment as he turns back to face the television. “I liked it when Daddy came here to cook and we all ate together.” he murmurs softly as he leans his head back against your chest, staring wistfully at the screen.“And when Daddy stayed for movie night too…. It felt like we were all back to living in one house again, Mama.”

“One house?” you murmur as you gently nudge him to face you again. “Yes, Mama, like before…” he replies, his little face lighting up. “Like when me, you and Daddy all lived in this house together and played hide-and-seek before bedtime.”

“Really, baby? You miss that?” you whisper, your fingers gently smoothing down his hair as a sharp sting pricks behind your eyes. “Mhm.” He nods, his little thumbs twiddling together. “But I understand.” he adds quietly and that instantly makes you furrow your brows. “You… understand?” 

He nods again. “Yes… Daddy told me that sometimes grownups have big… messy problems and because of that, they have to stop living together.”

You don't say anything as you wait for him to continue, wondering what exactly Jeongguk had told your son to protect his fragile little heart. 

“But Miss Han says every single problem has a sholushun.” he declares proudly, his tongue tripping over the massive word and despite the way your heart is  violently squeezing in your chest, a breathless giggle escapes your lips. “Baby…” you coo softly, leaning down to gently squish his chubby cheeks until his lips pout out like a little fish. “I think you mean solution.”

“Yes! So-lu-tion!” he chirps, practically shouting the syllables as he tries his absolute best to pronounce it better. “Miss Han says every problem has a solution, and we just have to be super duper patient and find it.” he explains and you smile softly at that, though the warmth doesn't quite reach the aching hollow beneath your ribs. 

“You know, Mama… I'm always losing Barnaby.” he suddenly says, referring to his slightly tattered blue whale plushie and you’re momentarily confused by the lightning-fast change in topic. “Oh really?” you ask, playing along to keep the tremor out of your voice and your son nods vigorously. 

“Sometimes I look everywhere and I still can't find him.” he says, spreading his tiny arms dramatically to demonstrate the severity of the situation. “I look under my bed…. I look in my toy box…. I even look in the bathroom.” he goes on, making you smile. “That's very thorough of you, baby.” you smile. 

“I know.” he says gravely. “But Daddy always helps me find him.” his face brightens instantly. “Sometimes Barnaby is under the couch… sometimes he's under all my pillows and… and sometimes he’s also inside the fridge!!” 

“Sounds like Barnaby gets around.” you chuckle, totally endeared by your son. “He really does.” Yejun sighs, shaking his head. “And one time…” he continues. “He was in Daddy's underwear pile too.”

That immediately makes you snort as Yejun dissolves into giggles. “Daddy was so confused, Mama.” he breathes out, making you nod. “I can imagine.”

“So don't worry, Mama.” Yejun suddenly says, drawing your attention back to him. “Hmm?” you tilt your head, a little confused. “Daddy always finds Barnaby, because he's really, really good at finding things.” Yejun fiddles with the lobe of your ear before continuing. “So maybe he'll find this too.”

Your breath hitches and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, because suddenly you understand exactly what your little boy has been trying to tell you this entire time. “Find what, honey?” you ask anyway, making Yejun look at you like the answer is obvious.

“The sholushun, Mama.”

Throughout dinner, you help Yejun eat, cutting up his food and making sure he finishes his vegetables while you barely swallow a single bite yourself because all you can think about are Yejun’s words from earlier and his innocent logic that madeeverything sound so so simple. 

Even now, as you sit beside his bed in the quiet amber glow of his room, reading the familiar lines of his favorite bedtime story, your mind is entirely somewhere else. Your lips move on autopilot, the words rolling off your tongue without truly registering, because your brain has become a chaotic battleground.

Even now, as you sit beside his bed reading the familiar lines of his favorite bedtime story, your mind is entirely somewhere else because one second you see your son's bright, trusting and hopeful eyes, and then a split second later, you're looking at the bleeding betrayal in Jeongguk's glassy gaze as he looks at you with nothing but exhaustion.  

Your lips move on autopilot, but it’s only when you notice Yejun’s eyes  finally begin to flutter close that the fog in your brain clears and your voice softens as you gently close the book and quietly place it on the nightstand.

Making sure to tuck him in properly, you pull the duvet right up to his small shoulders, smoothing out the fabric and lean forward to press a soft kiss on his forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby." you whisper and only when you're certain he's completely asleep do you finally rise from the edge of the bed and make yur way out of his room, closing the door behind you. 

//

12:18 am

Your eyes snap open, a breathless gasp tearing from your throat as the terrifying illusion of your nightmare is violently shattered by a deafening crack of the loud thunder outside. For a disorienting second, you feel paralyzed with your heart hammering frantically against your ribs like a trapped bird. 

You instantly sit up, lifting your hand to wipe your sweaty neck before pressing the heel of your palm firmly against your eyes and breathe in deep, shaky lungfuls of air for a few agonizing minutes.

You don't understand why you still wake up panicking or why a primal, suffocating fear still grips you when the nightmare is always exactly the same. You don't know why, after all these years, it still possesses the power to haunt you so much. 

Your mother might have walked out and abandoned you in the storm all those years ago, but the phantom of her departure never truly left and it was almost like she had simply traded her physical presence for a permanent, mocking residency inside your own thoughts.

Pushing the heavy duvet aside, you slide your bare feet onto the chilly floor and track across the dark room, inching toward the massive windows, and gently peek through the edge of the curtains as you watch the relentless rain outside, the sky illuminated by jagged, fleeting veins of lightning.

Sighing softly, you turn your gaze back over your shoulder, looking towards the sprawling expanse of your bed. The unoccupied half remains perfectly smooth and untouched with no indentations in the pillow, no warmth radiating from the mattress, no rhythmic sound of deep breathing to soothe your frayed nerves.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you shake off the chill and slip out of your bedroom to check on Yejun. Every single time a nightmare claws you awake and Yejun is staying over with you, you get this maternal urge to just check on him. 

Once you peek into his room and see him soundly sleeping there, just the way you left him hours ago, you feel a tad bit relieved and quietly retreat back down the hallway to your bedroom and lay back down, pulling the covers to your chin.

You desperately try to force your mind into submission, wanting nothing more than to slip back into slumber but all you can do is stare at the empty space beside you. 

After flipping restlessly from side to side, tossing and turning in a futile battle against your own mind, you let out a frustrated huff and sit up once more. You stare blankly through the darkness at the wide, arched entrance of your walk-in closet and just then, another violent rumble of thunder shakes the entire penthouse, making you flinch violently.

Your breath hitches in your throat as a sudden wave of goosebumps erupts across your skin and when the thunder rumbles again, louder this time, you quickly scramble off the bed and scurry straight into the sanctuary of your closet and flick the light switch on, illuminating rows of your organized designer dresses, suits, luxury bags and shoes. 

But you aren't looking at any of that tonight as you move with an almost manic urgency and begin frantically digging through the clothes, pushing aside all your expensive and extravagant things, burying yourself deeper and deeper into the darkest, most forgotten corner of the wardrobe until your fingers finally grasp a familiar piece of worn fabric.

The minute you pull it out from the hidden corner,  you instantly bring it up to your nose and close your eyes as you desperately breathe it in. 

It still smells like him. Thank god, it still smells like him.

The scent is faint, but unmistakably his. It’s one of his oldest, softest oversized tshirts, one of the many you used to shamelessly steal from him just to lounge around in. And somehow, when he moved out after the divorce, this single forgotten tshirt had been left behind in the penthouse.

Instead of returning it to him and purging his existence from your space, a desperate, hoarding part of your soul had chosen to preserve it and you’d hidden it away like some forbidden relic of a life you destroyed.

For these past few agonizing months, you never took it out, never dared to touch it, terrified that if you exposed it to the air, his lingering scent would just evaporate into nothingness but tonight, with the storm raging outside and the ghost of your nightmare still clinging to you, you need it... you need it so badly like a lifeline. 

You waste no time, quickly undressing yourself as you peel off your robe and let your nightgown pool around your ankles. Stripped bare and shivering from the chill of the closet, you grab the oversized shirt and pull it over your head.

The worn cotton falls loosely over your frame, the fabric stretching comfortably across your shoulders while the hem brushes against your mid-thigh. It swallows you whole, just like it used to and the second the material settles against your bare skin and his scent completely envelopes you, you instantly feel a little less frightened. 

// 

“Shit.” Jeongguk curses under his breath, as he grips the edge of the window frame, staring at the relentless rain outside. He’s been awake for over an hour now, ever since he heard the loud thunder outside, pacing the confines of his bedroom like a caged animal because all he can think about right now, is you. 

He restlessly rubs the back of his tense neck before burying his face into his palm with a loud groan. He knows you and he knows with absolute certainty how much you despise thunderstorms and how it’s a terror that rattles you to your very bones. And now, armed with the devastating knowledge that your brutal insomnia has returned and that the nightmares are clawing you awake again, he is losing his absolute mind wondering how on earth you’re holding up tonight. 

He tries to force himself to believe that you’re asleep, closing his eyes and desperately trying to conjure a reality where you are tucked safely beneath your blanket, completely unaware of the chaos outside but it just doesn’t work.

If he were to call you right now, or worse, if he were to drive across the rain-soaked city and show up at your front door, he knows exactly how you’ll look at him with those beautiful, icy eyes and demand to know why he’s crossing boundaries, how you’ll yell at him and try to push him away again and again. 

But as the violent thunder continues rumbling outside, Jeongguk doesn’t think he can close his eyes for a single second tonight without knowing for a fact that you are safe and resting too.

He really wishes he had the bone in him to just stop caring. He wishes he could be that cold, indifferent guy you keep begging him to be but how is that even humanly possible? Do you really think he’s actually going to sit back, listen to this angry thunderstorm and just let you suffer? Yeah, right. 

“Fuck it.” he murmurs because he doesn't care anymore… he doesn't care about the boundaries you try to draw or the walls you keep trying to build. You can yell at him, you can throw a glass vase straight at his head, you can hit him for all he cares, but Jeongguk cannot, will not, stop caring about you. 

The only thing he has absolutely zero compliance left for is your ridiculous expectation that he should just switch his heart off. 

Within seconds, he grabs his car keys and heads straight out of his apartment as he takes the stairs two at a time to the garage downstairs. He doesn’t care that it’s literally raining cats and dogs outside, or that the visibility on the roads is bound to be completely treacherous. He doesn’t care that the wind is howling so loud or that he’s driving straight into a battlefield where the only prize is getting his heart broken all over again. 

He just… he needs to see you. 

He needs to breathe the same air as you to make sure you’re not suffering all by yourself. He’ll let you yell at him, let you break his heart into a million pieces for the hundredth time, he’ll take every single ounce of your rage and pain, just as long as he can look into your eyes and ensure that you are okay.

Roughly 30 minutes pass as Jeongguk arrives near your penthouse and he doesn’t even bother driving down into the underground garage, he leaves his car parked haphazardly at the side of the road under the punishing downpour, and runs. 

The torrential rain drenches him within seconds, plastering his dark hair to his forehead and soaking through his jacket, but he doesn't stop to care as he reaches the front door and quickly punches in the code.  

When the lock clicks open, he steps into the foyer and pauses when he notices the dim lighting illuminating the hallway. Were you… awake? 

He takes off his shoes before slowly stepping further inside, desperately trying not to make a single sound that might trigger your defenses and the moment he crosses the threshold into the living room, his footsteps freeze entirely.

There you are on the couch with your head lolled helplessly to the side, your eyes closed while an empty, half-drained wine bottle sits on the coffee table. But before any of the other details register in his mind, Jeongguk’s throat goes completely dry when he sees what you’re wearing.  

He thought he’d lost that tshirt, thought it got misplaced somewhere during all the moving but here you are drowning in nothing but the worn out fabric and as he steps closer, he realises you hadn’t just fallen asleep… you had probably desperately drank yourself in order to pass out. 

He lets out a long sigh before sinking onto the edge of the cushions beside you and slowly lifts a hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. When he notices the way you’re frowning in your sleep with your eyebrows tightly furrowed, he uses the pad of his thumb to gently stroke the space between your brows, smoothing away the worry lines until your face finally relaxes.

He winces at the awkward angle of your sleeping posture because he knows with absolute certainty that if you stay in that position any longer, you’re definitely going to wake up with the worst ache in your neck tomorrow morning so carefully, he leans closer and slowly slides one arm behind your back, supporting your shoulders, while his other arm slips beneath your thighs and lifts you off the sofa, pulling you into his chest. Your body feels entirely limp in his hold as he cradles you against his heart and quietly makes his way down towards your bedroom.

He walks over to the bed and gently places you down onto the mattress but just as he begins to slowly slide his hands away, retreating his warmth to leave you in peace, he feels a sudden shift as your eyelashes flutter. 

You squint slightly through the dim light with your vision blurred as you look up at the dark silhouette hovering over you and even through the disoriented haze, you recognize him. “Gguk…?” you rasp out and Jeongguk freezes, catching the faint scent of wine on your breath. 

“Hey…” he whispers back and he can't really help himself as he reaches out again, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Go back to sleep, jagi.” the term of endearment just slips out, but he doesn't even think of taking it back. “I just came to check on you.” he murmurs, moving his hands down to grab the duvet, intending to drape it over your shivering legs before he forces himself to walk away.

But before he can even move an inch, your hand shoots out as your trembling fingers wrap tightly around his wrist. “Stay.” you whisper, gently tugging him. “Please…” your eyes swell with sudden tears that slowly trickle down your temples because the mere thought that he might actually turn around and leave, terrifies you. “Please… hold me.” 

Jungkook looks down at you, his throat tightening as he swallows hard because seeing you like this, breaks his heart into a million jagged pieces.

“Hold me, Gguk.” you whisper again, your grip tightening around his wrist as your lips tremble and if there is one absolute truth in Jungkook’s life, it’s that he is entirely powerless against you. He has never been able to deny you anything… not his heart, not his love and certainly not his warmth when you’re literally begging for it.

He uses his free hand to gently untangle your trembling fingers from his wrist and just as your lips part to beg him again, he rubs his thumb over your knuckles to reassure you that he isn't going anywhere and slowly steps back just enough to slide his damp jacket off his shoulders. 

He drops it on the nightstand before quietly climbing onto the mattress and reaches down to pull the blanket over both your bodies as he lays down right next to you. He slides his strong arm beneath your neck, pulling your frame flush against his chest as his other arm wraps securely around your waist with his hand resting flat against your back. You immediately bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you feel the lightest kiss being pressed on the top of your head before finally forcing yourself to close your eyes. 

//

When you slowly blink your eyes awake, the first thing you register is the warmth. Not the warmth of the blanket tangled around your legs or the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains, but the warmth of the body wrapped around yours. 

For a breathless second, you freeze, terrified that shifting even a fraction of an inch will shatter what must surely be a cruel, beautiful illusion as the very first thing you see is Jeongguk’s face with his cheek squished against the pillow. 

Despite your alcohol-induced brain last night, you vividly remember the exact moment your eyes had open only to find the one person you'd been desperately yearning for standing beside your bed and how, without a single thought for your pride or dignity, you'd reached for him and practically begged him to stay. 

And to think he actually… stayed and didn't just leave after you fell asleep. 

You slowly bring your hand up from beneath the duvet and gently place it on his cheek, the soft pad of your thumb tenderly brushing over the faint scar there. 

At the sudden, warm contact of your touch, you notice the twitch of his eyelids and panic flairs for a split second, a knee-jerk instinct telling you to pull your hand away before he catches you looking…. but your fingers remain frozen against his skin and before you can even wrestle with your thoughts, Jeongguk is already opening his eyes. 

He blinks slowly, his eyes heavily hooded with residual sleep before his vision locks onto yours and you swear you can feel your breath stop entirely while Jeongguk's throat bobs slightly as he swallows.  

Without breaking eye contact, he lifts his own hand, settling it over yours where it still rests against his cheek, like he wants to seal it there. 

He just looks into your eyes for a long time before you watch his gaze start to travel down the bridge of your nose, pausing to linger on your lips before rising back up to lock into your eyes again.

You can hear nothing but the erratic thrumming of your own heart, beating so loudly against your ribs that you;re certain he can feel it radiating through the mattress and before you can do or say anything, your own eyes involuntarily do the same and neither of you look away.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what prompts him to do it, but he shifts just a millimeter closer, like he’s silently testing the waters, giving you every last chance to pull away, to remember the walls between you, to stop him… but when you don’t move back… when you don’t even flinch and stay exactly where you are with your palm still cupping his cheek beneath his hand, his eyelashes finally flutter shut as he leans forward, bridging the very last fraction of distance between you and presses his warm lips against yours.

He feels every single nerve ending in his body catch on fire when he feels your lips part and you begin kissing him back. A soft hum escapes from the back of your throat as your hand travels from his cheek, reaching to grip the soft strands of his hair at the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer, while his hand slides down the curve of your spine to pull you closer and the kiss deepens instantly, like you’re both trying to claw your way back into each other's souls. 

You shift your weight, crawling over him until you push him flat onto the mattress beneath you and the blanket completely rolls off your bodies. He lets out a low, gritty moan directly into your mouth when you divide your knees and straddle his lap until you’re practically sitting on him with your bare thighs bracketing his waist.

You don’t even understand how it’s happening… how your body is acting like it has a mind of its own. 

You moan softly shifting your hips to seek his heat and through the thin fabric of your underwear, you instantly feel him harden against you. Jeongguk’s chest rises and falls in ragged pants as his cold fingers slide from your knees up to the sensitive skin of your thighs to reach your hips beneath the hem of your tshirt… his tshirt, until his calloused palms squeezes the curve of your hips, letting his thumbs sweep inward until they graze the delicate lace of your underwear. 

When he pushes you down against his bulge before devouring your mouth even harder, both of you let out a simultaneous moan at the perfect friction and you only break the kiss to sit up and reach down for the hem of your tshirt before swiftly pulling it over your head and tossing it blindly onto the floor. 

When you expose your bare torso with your chest heaving, Jeongguk’s breath hitches, his hands freezing on your waist as he looks up at you, sitting there in the golden light looking like an absolute goddess.

His hooded eyes travel down the elegant line of your neck, lingering on the sharp curve of your collarbone and the way your hair falls over your shoulders, before finally tracking lower to eye your bare breasts, watching with a low groan as your nipples visibly harden under the scorching weight of his gaze. 

Unable to stay flat on his back for another second, he instantly sits up, wrapping one arm around your bare waist while his other hand fists your hair to pull you flush against him for another bruising kiss. He shifts his weight, inching backward across the mattress until his back hits the headboard, giving him the leverage he desperately needs to handle you.

With you completely straddling his lap, you begin to grind harder against him and Jeongguk desperately meets your movements with equal fervor as his hips arch slightly beneath yours to meet every single press of your core. 

His lips tear away from your mouth, traveling down your jaw and burying into the sensitive crook of your neck. “Fuck…” you curse, tilting your head to the side to give him more access as he bites and sucks at the soft skin before his mouth tracks lower, finding the soft curve of your breast and his tongue peeks out, swirling over your heated skin to get a taste. 

“Oh… Gguk…” you moan, your voice turning into a desperate cry as your hips stutter in their pace and when his lips finally reach the aching peak of your breast, he closes his mouth fully around your hardened nipple.

A choked sound escapes the back of your throat as your back arches in pure ecstasy while your fingers knot tightly into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as he suckles intensely on the bud. The contrast of the cool metal of his lip ring grazing your sensitive skin completely shatters the last of your control, making you lose your mind entirely and when he gently tugs on your nipple with his teeth a violent jolt of arousal travels straight down your spine and directly to your throbbing core. 

Your hands blindly scramble from his hair to grip on his shoulders for support as his wet, scorching mouth leaves one aching nipple to worship your other breast. Driven by a desperate, instinctual need to give back the pleasure consuming you, you slowly slide your hand down between your bodies, your fingers trembling with anticipation because you want to touch him too… you need to feel him too.

But the exact millisecond your palm flattens against the burning length of his bulge, Jeongguk goes entirely rigid and pulls away so fast almost like your touch just shattered the intoxicating spell hanging over him. You pause, completely confused by the abrupt movement and slowly pull your upper body back to search his face, desperately trying to read the sudden shift, to understand what went wrong… but all you find in Jeongguk’s eyes is a look of absolute horror.

“I…” he breathes out, the word breaking in his throat as he looks down at your hand, then up at your bare chest and finally into your eyes. “I can’t…” he shakes his head. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

With those words, reality comes crashing back down as you suddenly become painfully aware of the fact that you’re currently sitting completely naked and exposed in nothing but your underwear, straddling the lap of your ex-husband… a man who is still fully clothed. 

A suffocating wave of humiliation floods your chest, making you feel so fucking stupid, it physically nauseates you because why on earth did you think throwing yourself on your ex-husband was a good idea. 

You instantly scramble off his lap and Jeongguk moves just as fast, practically throwing himself off the other side of the mattress. You clutch your lower lip between your teeth as you desperately lunge for the corner of the bed, tightly grabbing a fistful of the blanket to cover your bare breasts and you curl into yourself, trying to hide the skin he had been tasting just seconds ago.

And Jeongguk? He just stands by the edge of the bed, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking as he painfully avoids your gaze. “I… I need to go.” he stammers and without uttering another word, he grabs his jacket from the nightstand and simply leaves.

//

— please drop a like, reblog or comment !! it would make me feel motivated and i would to love to hear your thoughts <3

<- part 2 // part 4 -> (coming soon)

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//

part 2

6 months ago 

Jeongguk looks down at Yejun’s sleeping figure, his chest tightening painfully at the sight in front of him. Even in his sleep, tiny hiccups still leave the little boy every now and then, remnants of the heartbreaking crying fit he had exhausted himself into barely 20 minutes ago.

It had taken almost an hour to calm Yejun down. An hour of carrying him around the penthouse, kissing his tears away, promising over and over that his mama was coming soon.

But 4 year olds didn’t understand delayed meetings, exhausted schedules or business emergencies. 4 year olds only understood absence and tonight, all Yejun could understand was that his mother hadn’t come home for his birthday.

Jeongguk waits another moment, just to make sure Yejun’s breathing has finally evened out properly before he slowly rises from the bed and pulls the blanket higher over his son’s body and quietly steps out of the room, gently clicking the door shut behind him.

It was around 10pm as Jeongguk drags a tired hand down his face and steps into the living room of the penthouse, his gaze immediately landing on the decorations still scattered around the space.

Blue and silver balloons still floated near the ceiling and the little paper banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUN !!” hung slightly crooked now after Yejun had accidentally tugged on it earlier while crying. 

And right in the center of the coffee table sat the untouched birthday cake with the tiny candle shaped like the number four melted into wax beside it.

Jeongguk remembers reminding you about today. 

Multiple times. 

He remembers mentioning it over breakfast three days ago while you skimmed through emails on your tablet. He remembers bringing it up again last night when you were half asleep beside him, exhausted from work while he quietly asked you to come home early tomorrow because Yejun had been talking about his birthday all week.

And you had promised.

But lately, promises had started losing their meaning to you.

For the past few months, it felt like pieces of your life were constantly slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly Jeongguk tried helping you hold onto them.

Movie nights with Yejun that got cancelled because meetings suddenly ran overtime, dinner date reservations forgotten completely until Jeongguk sat alone at the restaurant pretending not to care when the waiter asked if he still wanted to order, the parent meeting you swore you had written down in your schedule only for Jeongguk to sit there alone while all the other parents arrived together.

At first, he truly tried to understand.

And he did understand.

Valerra was flourishing in ways he had never imagined. Your luxury brand was taking over the market, investors wanted meetings with you, fashion magazines wanted interviews, international buyers wanted collaborations, every collection sold out faster than the previous one.

You had worked for this with blood in your lungs and exhaustion stitched into your bones.

Nobody knew that better than Jeongguk.

Nobody had seen the sleepless nights, the breakdowns, the rejection emails, the self doubt, the relentless perfectionism the way he had. He knew exactly how much this dream meant to you because he had watched you build it from nothing with your bare hands.

And god, he had been so proud of you.

Still was.

But somewhere along the way, it had started feeling like your family was becoming something you tried fitting into the empty spaces left behind by your ambition instead of the other way around.

And the worst part was that Jeongguk could never even fully blame you for it because beneath the frustration and disappointment, he understood you too well.

He understood the pressure crushing down on your shoulders. He understood your fear of losing everything you worked so hard for. He understood why you pushed yourself until there was almost nothing left of you by the end of the day.

He understood all of it.

But god… he missed you.

So fucking much. 

Because lately, Jeongguk felt like he was grieving someone who was still standing right beside him.

He closes his eyes briefly before letting out a tired sigh and reaching up to carefully pull down another decoration from the wall. At this point, it wasn’t just Yejun aching from your absence tonight…. Jeongguk was aching too.

The forgotten date nights, the anniversary you accidentally let pass a few weeks ago until Jimin wished the two of you over text and you froze in horror because you had genuinely forgotten. The nights he stayed awake waiting for you just to hear the front door open at 3 in the morning.

He tried so hard to be understanding through all of it.

But tonight hurt differently because no matter how many times Jeongguk gently explained it, no matter how softly he tried comforting him, Yejun simply couldn’t understand why his mother was not there to sing him happy birthday.

The sound of the front door unlocking suddenly echoes around the penthouse and Jeongguk’s movements instantly come to a stop as he slowly turns over his shoulder… and there you are.

You step inside looking exhausted with your coat hanging loosely off your shoulders as you walk in with hurried breaths. 

Your hair is slightly disheveled like you had been running your fingers through it all evening and there are dark circles sitting beneath your eyes that even your expensive makeup can no longer properly conceal.

“Shit… I’m so sorry.” The apology leaves your mouth immediately, before you even properly look at him. You drop your purse and car keys onto the dining table with a soft clatter before quickly rubbing both your hands over your face.

“The investors from Paris pushed the meeting back by 2 hours and then one of the production managers completely messed up the shipment numbers for next month’s launch so I had to stay back and fix everything because apparently nobody there knows how to do their goddamn job properly.” Your words tumble out rapidly. “I tried leaving earlier but then the press team kept stopping me because they wanted approval for the campaign revisions and my phone died halfway through the evening and—” you stop abruptly before finally looking up at him properly. “Shit… please don’t tell me Jun went to bed already.” you murmur, your voice suddenly quieter as your eyes land on the half removed decorations and the untouched birthday cake sitting abandoned on the coffee table.

“It’s past ten.” Jeongguk says lowly without looking at you. “Bedtime was at eight.”

You stare at him in disbelief before quickly shaking your head. “No…” you breathe out softly, panic creeping into your expression. “No, no… Honey wait…”

Jeongguk says nothing as he turns back around, reaching up to pull another decoration from the wall with his jaw clenched so tightly it hurts.

“You should’ve tried keeping him up.” you murmur quickly, almost desperately. “Just for a little longer.”

And that’s what finally does it as Jeongguk whips around so fast the paper banner slips right from his hands onto the floor. “Y/n, he waited for you !!” he snaps sharply. The sudden raise in his voice makes your eyes widen immediately because Jeongguk rarely yelled. 

Rarely.

“He tried really fucking hard to stay awake.” he says as his chest rises and falls unevenly and he can literally feel the months of frustration suddenly clawing their way out of him all at once. “He kept asking every 5 minutes if mama was home yet.” he continues, voice cracking slightly despite how angry he is. “He wouldn’t cut the cake without you. He wouldn’t open his presents without you. He waited for you until he cried himself sick because he thought maybe if he stayed awake long enough you’d finally walk through that door.”

“Jeongguk, I told you the meeting got delayed, I couldn’t just leave in the middle of—”

“In the middle of work?” he cuts you off harshly. “Yeah. I know because it’s always fucking work lately.”

“Do you think I wanted this to happen?” you ask, blinking at him in complete disbelief and Jeongguk lets out a hollow laugh that holds absolutely no humor in it. “I honestly don’t know what you want anymore.” he says.

For a second, Jeongguk almost regrets saying it. Almost.

“Excuse me?” you whisper. “You heard me.” he snaps back immediately. “Because lately it feels like nothing matters to you except that company.”

“That company?” you repeat in disbelief before suddenly laughing bitterly yourself. “That company?” you say again, your voice rising. “Jeongguk, you know exactly what that company means to me.”

“I know it means more to you than anything else apparently.” The words are cruel the moment they leave his mouth.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” you fight back. “That company is the reason we have this life!” you gesture wildly around. “This penthouse. Yejun’s school. Everything we built. Everything!”

“And what’s the point of any of it if you’re never actually fucking here to live it?” Jeongguk fires back immediately. Your breathing turns uneven as you stare at him like you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “That’s unfair.” you whisper. 

“Is it?” he asks sharply. “Tell me honestly, Y/n. When was the last time you sat through dinner without checking your phone? When was the last time you spent one full day with us without work interrupting it?” He watches you open your mouth immediately and then close it again because he knows damn well you don’t have an answer to that question. 

“And this isn’t just about Yejun.” he continues, throwing his hands up helplessly now. “What about us?” he asks as his voice cracks slightly on the word us. “God, do you even remember the last time we had a proper conversation?” he asks brokenly. “Like really talked?”

You look away immediately, your eyes squeezing shut for a brief second like even hearing this hurts.

“I haven’t held you properly for more than ten minutes these past few months.” Jeongguk laughs bitterly under his breath. “It’s always new collection this, investor dinner that, fashion week preparations, overseas meetings, campaign shoots…” he rambles as his breathing grows uneven. “And even when you’re physically beside me, you’re not really there anymore.”

You swallow hard, arms wrapping tightly around yourself.

“Do you know how many nights I’ve fallen asleep waiting for you?” he keeps going. “How many mornings I wake up and your side of the bed is still cold because you decided to sleep in the office again?”

“Jeongguk…” you whisper weakly.

“No.” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “No because, why does it feel like I have to compete with your work just to get ten fucking minutes with my own wife?” he sighs before dragging a trembling hand through his hair. “God…” he mutters. “I’m so fucking exhausted.”

“Well, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you met me.” you suddenly snap and Jeongguk’s head lifts immediately. Your eyes are glossy now, but there is something sharp sitting beneath them… something defensive. “You have always known how much Valerra means to me.” you continue, voice rising with every word. “So don’t stand there acting surprised now, like this wasn’t always going to happen.”

Jeongguk stares at you in complete shock. 

“You fell in love with someone ambitious.” you spit harshly. “Someone obsessed with succeeding… someone who made it very fucking clear from the beginning what her priorities were.”

“Y/n…” he tries but you shake your head. “No.” you cut him off. “You don’t get to throw this in my face now just because reality doesn’t look pretty anymore.”

Jeongguk’s breath visibly hitches now as he sees the anger in your eyes. 

“Did you think I’d suddenly wake up one day and stop caring about the one thing I built entirely on my own?” you ask bitterly. “Did you think marriage and motherhood were magically supposed to make me smaller?”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING !!” Jeongguk snaps. “THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING??” you shoot back instantly. “Because right now it sounds a lot like you resent me for becoming successful.”

His face twists immediately at your words. “Don’t do that.” he whispers.

“Do what?!”

“Twist this into something it’s not.” he says, voice breaking now. “I have supported you through everything.”

“And I never asked you to!” your words slice through the room so viciously that Jeongguk physically recoils and his entire expression falters like something inside him just shattered. “You act like I forced you to stay beside me while I built my career!” you continue harshly, your voice trembling now from the sheer force of everything spilling out of you at once. “You should’ve just walked away when you had the chance, Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen at your words.

“You should’ve left the moment you realized what kind of person I was!” you snap, tears now rolling freely down your cheeks. 

“Y/n—”

“No, because what did you expect?” you laugh bitterly, wiping your tears angrily before they can fall properly. “You met me when I was working myself to death trying to build something out of absolutely nothing. You knew exactly how obsessed I was with this dream.” you say pointing a finger at him. “You knew I was never going to be the kind of woman who’d happily sit at home and play house all day.”

“That’s not what I wanted from you and you know it!” Jeongguk fires back immediately. “Then WHAT?!!?” you ask. “What do you want from me, Jeongguk?”

He opens his mouth but you keep going before he can answer.

“Because no matter what I do lately, it’s wrong. If I work too much, I’m failing my family. If I try to slow down, I’m failing everything I spent my entire life building.” your chest rises sharply as another sob escapes you. “I can’t split myself into two people!” you cry. “And nobody asked you to put your entire life around mine!”

Jeongguk watches you unravel in front of him and despite his anger, despite his hurt, all he can see is exhaustion pouring out of you from every direction. But he’s hurting too… god, he’s hurting so badly.

“Well it isn’t just MY life!” Jeongguk suddenly explodes. “What about Yejun’s?” he asks brokenly, his chest heaving. “What about our son, Y/n?”

The tears in his eyes finally spill over as he gestures helplessly towards the hallway leading to Yejun’s room. “Because he’s the one crying himself to sleep while you’re too busy building an empire to notice what’s happening right in front of you.”

Jeongguk sees the exact moment your expression cracks apart as another tear slips down your cheek and suddenly, the anger in Jeongguk’s chest starts curdling into something far worse. 

Guilt.

Because despite everything, despite how hurt he is, seeing you look that devastated still destroys him. 

He exhales shakily before dragging both hands through his hair, pacing back a few steps. “You know what…” he mutters breathlessly. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

You look at him immediately but Jeongguk avoids your gaze this time because if he looks at you for too long right now, he thinks he might either completely fall apart or say something even crueler. “Let’s just…” he swallows hard, rubbing tiredly at his face. “Let’s just talk about this tomorrow.”

And just like that, Jeongguk walks away to the guest room.

Throughout your relationship and marriage, the two of you had argued countless times before. Back when you were dating, Jeongguk still remembers how you would dramatically break up with him in the heat of the moment over the smallest things only to take him back the very next day. 

Sometimes the fights were over silly things that seemed ridiculous in hindsight and sometimes they were over serious things that took longer to sort out. But no matter how ugly the fights got, Jeongguk had never once slept away from you especially after you started living together.

Even after the worst arguments, he would eventually crawl back into bed beside you sometime in the middle of the night with sleepy apologies mumbled against your shoulder and sweet kisses against your neck because neither of you really knew how to stay apart for long.

But tonight, it was different. 

Jeongguk lies awake in the guest room, staring blankly at the ceiling while the argument replays over and over in his head like punishment.

Your voice. Your tears. The way your face crumbled. 

He drags a hand over his face with a shaky exhale.

God… he knows tonight hurt, he knows Yejun was devastated, he knows he had every right to be angry but he also knows you.

Knows the version of you nobody else really sees.

He knows the woman who wakes up three times in the middle of the night just to check Yejun’s temperature whenever he had even the slightest cold, the woman who memorized every single one of his allergies before he even turned one, the woman that loves so deeply it almost destroys you and maybe that’s why this hurts Jeongguk so much, because he knows you didn’t forget tonight because you didn’t care.

You forgot because somewhere along the way, you started carrying so much on your shoulders that you convinced yourself you had to survive it all alone.

And suddenly all Jeongguk feels is exhausted heartbreak because beneath all the frustration, the truth is painfully simple.

He misses you.

Even while living under the same roof, he misses you terribly and tonight it all just came out the wrong way. 

The next morning, Jeongguk wakes up with burning eyes and a dull ache in his temples. For a few seconds, he stares at the unfamiliar ceiling in confusion before he remembers how he slept away from you last night, in the guest room. 

He exhales quietly before sitting up and rubbing tiredly at his face. 

As he steps out of the guest room and walks across the hallway, he notices Yejun’s bedroom door slightly cracked open and through the small opening, he hears hushed murmurs. 

Jeongguk slows in his steps as he inches closer to the door, peaking as his eyes land on the sight inside. 

You’re sitting against the headboard with Yejun curled up against your chest, his tiny face tucked securely under your chin while your fingers slowly comb through his soft hair again and again.

“Mama won’t do it again, okay?” you whisper softly, pressing little kisses against his hair. “I’m really, really sorry, bug.”

Yejun sniffles quietly, his eyes still swollen and puffy from all the crying he did last night. “You promised…” he murmurs sadly, his voice still thick with sleep and Jeongguk watches the way your entire face crumbles at those two tiny words. “I know.” you whisper shakily. “I know, baby.” Your fingers gently cup his little cheek, carefully making him look up at you. “Mama messed up.” you admit softly, your glossy eyes searching his tiny face like you’re desperate to make sure he still loves you the same. “But I need you to know something, okay?” you continue. “There’s  nothing in this whole world more important to me than you.”

Jeongguk instantly feels his throat tighten at the sincerity in your voice and watches the way Yejun blinks up at you slowly. “Not even work?” he asks innocently. You let out the smallest broken laugh before immediately pulling him closer against your chest, your palm rubbing softly up and down his back. “Not even work.” you whisper without hesitation. “Not even a little bit.”

Yejun stays quiet as you continue stroking his back. “It’s just…” you murmur gently. “Mama’s brain gets super busy sometimes.” You lightly tap your temple, making Yejun look at you curiously. “There’s always too many things running around in here all at once.” you explain softly. “And sometimes when grown ups get too busy and too tired, their brains become a little messy and forget stuff they really, really don’t mean to forget.”

Yejun frowns slightly. “Like when daddy forgets where he puts the TV remote?” he asks and a tiny laugh escapes you despite everything. “Exactly like that.” you nod. “Only mama’s brain is much worse.”

Jeongguk can’t help but laugh under his breath as he continues watching you two. 

“But I promise I’m gonna try really hard, okay?” you whisper as Yejun snuggles closer. “Like… super duper hard.”

“So Mama won’t forget again?” he asks quietly. “No.” you whisper firmly. “I’ll try really, really hard not to.” your voice trembles slightly at the end and Jeongguk can physically see how much you mean it. How guilty you are. How badly you wish you could undo last night entirely.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” you murmur again before kissing the top of his head. “Promise?” Yejun looks up at you. “Promise.” you repeat, before kissing the tip of his nose, making him giggle softly.

And suddenly Jeongguk remembers that despite everything, despite the tears and disappointment from last night, Yejun is still only four. Four year olds don’t know how to hold grudges the way adults do because their hearts are painfully simple. All they really want is love, reassurance, and the comfort of knowing the people they love are still there.

“Then you have to get me the giant shark robot.” he hears his son say very seriously and you stare at him before bursting into another quiet laugh before kissing his nose again. “Of course, my love.” you agree without hesitation. “I’ll get you that giant shark robot.” you smile and Yejun beams instantly. “Anything for my baby.” you giggle softly as he happily buries his face back into your chest.

And standing there quietly outside the room, Jeongguk suddenly feels absolutely horrible.

The argument from last night suddenly feels ugly and unnecessary and cruel in a way he can’t stomach anymore because after everything he screamed at you, after all the accusations and anger he threw at you, all he can see right now is a mother who looks like she would tear herself apart piece by piece if it meant her son would never feel unloved for even a second.

God, he feels like such a fucking jerk.

He steps away from the door, deciding to leave this moment entirely to you and Yejun before he heads towards the kitchen. His chest still feels tight and uncomfortable from last night, but the anger has faded now and all that remains is guilt.

Maybe he could fix this over breakfast.

Maybe once Yejun got distracted with his cartoons, he could sit you down at the table and finally say everything properly this time, tell you he never meant to yell at you like that last night, tell you he never meant those awful things in the way they came out.

Because he would never resent your success. Never.

God, how could he?

Nobody apart from you, had loved your dream more fiercely than he did and the problem was never your ambition.

He just missed you.

Missed his wife in a way that had slowly started aching inside him for months, missed feeling like the two of you were still moving through life together instead of merely existing around each other and that was all he’d been trying to say.

As he quietly starts making breakfast, he hears you and Yejun head towards the bathroom together. A few moments later, faint giggles echo through the penthouse followed by your voice telling Yejun to stop splashing water everywhere as you struggle to give him a bath. 

About 15 minutes later, you finally step into the living room with Yejun beside you, freshly bathed and fully dressed.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Yejun beams the second he sees his father behind the kitchen counter before immediately running towards him and Jeongguk effortlesslyscoops his son up into his arms, pressing a kiss against his warm cheek. “Good morning, baby.” he murmurs softly. “Someone smells nice.” He nudges his nose against Yejun’s cheek playfully, making the little boy squirm and giggle in his arms. “Mama used the strawberry soap today.” Yejun says proudly. “Ah…” Jeongguk hums dramatically. “That explains it.”

Yejun bursts into another fit of giggles and that’s when Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively lift towards you, but you never look back at him as you quietly turn around and head back towards the bedroom instead. Although disappointment settles heavily in his chest, Jeongguk tells himself not to push for now. 

Of course you were hurt after last night. Of course you needed space.

He could give you that for a few hours.

Tonight after work, once the both of you had gotten enough time to cool down, he would talk to you again. He would apologize the right way this time and explain everything without anger getting in the way. 

He would tell you that he never meant those awful things the way they sounded, tell you that he loved you more than anything and that he simply missed you terribly.

And the two of you would fix this like you always did.

That’s what he keeps telling himself the entire day at the cafe.

And maybe that was the biggest mistake Jeongguk had ever made in his life because that night, when he finally returned home, instead of accepting the ridiculously oversized bouquet of lilies from his hand, you were handing him something he never thought he’d see in his life.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

“Jagi…” The word leaves him with a horrified shudder and for a moment, Jeongguk genuinely thinks he might throw up. “No…” he breathes out faintly as he slowly lifts the papers in his trembling hands. His eyes scan the words again and again as if maybe they’ll somehow change if he looks long enough but when they don’t, he looks back up at you.

“Jagi, what…” his voice cracks. “What is this?”

You don’t answer immediately and somehow your silence is even more terrifying. Your face remains eerily calm, but Jeongguk notices the tiny details like the way you’re biting the insides of your lower lip, the way your fingers tremble on the dining table, the way your breathing is slightly uneven. 

“We can settle everything privately.” you say quietly after a long moment. “There’s no need to drag this out.”

Jeongguk just stares at you like he physically cannot process the words leaving your mouth. “What?” he laughs weakly, eyes already turning glassy. “No… no, baby, what are you talking about?”

He leans forward against the table desperately, waiting for you to crack, waiting for you to suddenly tell him this is some horrible joke but you only look away from him. “We’ll do shared custody.” you continue numbly. “We can work out schedules depending on our availability and make things stable for Yejun.”

“Stop.” His voice breaks instantly as tears spill down his face before he can even stop them. “Please stop talking like this.” he begs shakily and your jaw clenches tightly, but you still avoid his gaze.

“Y/n…” Jeongguk stands abruptly, chair scraping harshly against the floor as he quickly walks around the table towards you and grips the back of your chair and gently but desperately turns you towards him.

“Is this…” his breathing stutters violently. “Is this because of last night?”

You don’t answer and that only intensifies the panic crawling through his system.

“Baby, listen to me.” he pleads instantly, dropping onto his knees beside your chair as he grips your arms carefully. “I was angry and frustrated and I said things I shouldn’t have said but I swear to God I didn’t mean them like that.”

Still nothing.

Jeongguk feels his throat tighten so painfully it almost hurts to breathe. “We had one bad fight.” he whispers shakily. “One.”

“It wasn’t one fight.” you finally say and your voice sounds hollow. “It’s been building up for a long time.” And Jeongguk knows exactly what you mean. All the little arguments from the past few months come rushing back to him at once, most of them revolving around the same issues in one way or another, except last night had been a million times worse.

“No, it hasn’t.” he still says, shaking his head desperately. “We’ve just been stressed and busy and… and disconnected lately but that doesn’t mean…” He exhales shakily, tears falling faster now. “Divorce?”

You swallow hard before finally looking at him for half a second and the sadness in your eyes terrifies him more than anger ever could. “You don’t have to compete with my work anymore.” you whisper softly. “You don’t have to keep waiting for me to become someone different.”

His face crumples instantly. “That’s not what I want.”

“But it’s what you deserve.” you continue quietly, almost like you rehearsed this conversation a hundred times already. “We can just focus on being good parents for Yejun.” you say and he catches the way your lips tremble slightly despite your efforts to stay composed. “I’ll focus on being a better mother to him instead of trying to balance everything and failing at all of it.”

Jeongguk stares at you in complete disbelief. “Jagiya…” he whispers helplessly, his voice hoarse. “Why are you talking like this?”

“You’re unhappy.” you say quietly. “And honestly…” your voice cracks for the very first time since this conversation started. “I think you’ve been unhappy for a while now.”

Jeongguk shakes his head immediately. “No.” he tries but you don’t let him continue. “So let’s just…” you swallow hard, unable to finish for a second before forcing yourself to continue anyway. “Let’s just go our separate ways and focus on Yejun.”

The sentence completely destroys him. “No.” he says again, this time shakier, more desperate. “No, baby, stop saying things like that.”

You finally pull your arms out of his grip and Jeongguk physically feels dread claw up his throat at the loss of contact. “Y/n, please.” he breathes out quickly, standing up right after you. “Please just sit down and talk to me properly.”

But you shake your head once. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“How can you say that?” Jeongguk asks brokenly. “How can you possibly say that after everything?” he cries but you still don’t answer. Instead, you start gathering the papers on the table with trembling fingers, refusing to look at him no matter how desperately he tries to catch your eyes.

“Baby, please look at me.”

Nothing.

“Y/n.” His voice cracks harder this time. “You can’t just decide this on your own.”

“I’m not deciding it on my own.”

“Yes, you are!” he snaps. “Because you’re not even giving me a chance to fix this!”

You inhale shakily before finally speaking again. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you to resent me.” you whisper. “Resent you?” he repeats in disbelief. “Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You’re tired of me.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You literally said you were exhausted!” you shoot back. “You literally meant you were tired and lonely and that you missed your wife because she’s never around!”

“Because I love you!” Jeongguk cries out desperately. “How are you hearing any of this and thinking I want to lose you?”

Your lips tremble violently for a second and for one tiny moment, hope sparks inside his chest because you finally look like you might break too, but then the walls go back up again. “I can’t do this.” you whisper and before Jeongguk can stop you, before he can say another word, you turn around and walk away.

Just like that.

And exactly a week later, Jeongguk finds himself sitting across from you in a lawyer’s office with swollen eyes and trembling hands while some middle aged man calmly explains shared custody agreements and visitation schedules.

“…primary residence arrangements can remain flexible depending on the child’s schooling schedule…”

Jeongguk barely hears any of it as the lawyer’s voice becomes distant background noise, fading further and further away beneath the violent ringing in his ears because all he can focus on is you.

You sitting across from him with your hands folded neatly in your lap like this is some ordinary business meeting instead of the complete destruction of both your lives.

He keeps staring at you silently. 

Begging. 

Begging for you to look at him properly… to hesitate… to suddenly burst into tears and say this was a mistake… to tell the lawyer nevermind… to tell Jeongguk to take you home.

But you never look up.

Not even once.

And Jeongguk thinks that hurts the most.

Not the argument, not the papers, not even the fact that his marriage is actually ending.

It’s the way you just won’t look at him anymore.

//

The divorce replays in Jeongguk’s mind over and over again as he stands alone in the cafe’s back kitchen, absentmindedly turning his wedding ring between his fingers. He doesn’t know why he still carries it around with him. It’s probably because a part of him still can’t comprehend the fact that he’s no longer your husband or because taking it off completely feels too final like admitting the life the two of you built together is truly gone.

So instead, he keeps it in his pocket every single day, only pulling it out during moments like this when all he can do is just think about the past. 

Being in a relationship with you was never something that could be explained simply.

Loving you was easy… god, loving you had been the easiest thing Jeongguk had ever done in his entire life. It happened as naturally as breathing, as naturally as his heart continuing to beat.

Understanding you, however, was something else entirely.

You weren’t someone who could ever be fully known all at once because you unfolded slowly… in fragments and in contradictions. One day you would let him so far into your heart that he would feel drunk on the feeling, fully convinced there was nobody in the world luckier than him and then the very next day, you would retreat so deeply into yourself that he would start wondering if he had imagined that closeness altogether.

You were never difficult in the cruel or exhausting sense people usually meant. You were… layered. The kind of person who carried entire oceans inside herself while only allowing people to cup handfuls of water at a time.

And Jeongguk had honestly loved that about you. 

He had loved the mystery of you, the way every year together still felt like discovering new rooms inside the same person. He loved how deeply you thought about things, how carefully you loved despite pretending you didn’t know how to. 

He loved the rare moments where your walls slipped completely and he got to see the softest, most tender parts of you hidden underneath all that sharpness. 

Being loved by you felt precious exactly because it didn’t come easily and every vulnerable piece of yourself you handed him felt earned. It felt sacred.

Loving you wasn’t easy in the sense that it was simple. It was easy in the sense that no matter how complicated things became, Jeongguk never once wanted to stop.

Not once.

But after the divorce, when Jeongguk was desperately trying to survive the aftermath of losing you, he realized he needed something to hold onto besides love.

He wanted to hate you.

And maybe that sounded immature, maybe even cruel, but he needed something other than the devastating love he still carried for you after everything because loving you this much even after losing you felt unbearable… it felt humiliating like his heart hadn’t received the memo that you were gone.

He needed something that would make the ending easier to live with, something that would hurt less than missing you every second of the day, something to dull the grief.

People liked to say that when you truly love someone, even their flaws become lovable. That love softens the sharpest parts of a person until even the habits that should irritate you begin to feel strangely endearing simply because they belong to the person you love.

And after almost a decade with someone, you inevitably learn every version of them.

Not just the beautiful parts.

You learn the ugly things too… the habits that hurt, the words that wound during arguments, the parts of them capable of breaking your heart wide open.

Love doesn’t make someone flawless. It simply makes you willing to hold their flaws gently for far longer than you probably should.

So when the divorce happened, Jeongguk tried desperately to find something inside himself that hated you enough to finally let go. Something solid, something sharp enough to cut through the grief, something cruel enough to drown out the love that still clung stubbornly to every part of him no matter how badly he wanted it gone.

So one night, sitting alone in his newly rented 2 bedroom apartment, the one he had to force himself to move into after everything ended, Jeongguk decided to point out your flaws and make a list of the 10 things he hated about you.

First, you were selfish.

You always chose your ambitions first…your goals, your vision, the life you were building with your own two hands while everything else always seemed to come second to you. Sometimes it felt like you were always running towards a finish line only you could see. 

Second, you were cold. 

He remembers the day his cafe got featured in a few local magazines and newspapers. It wasn’t anything massive, but to him… it meant everything. It felt like proof that all those long hours, all the exhaustion, all the doubt he and Jimin had before opening the cafe had finally amounted to something real.

He had shown up at your place that evening, with the magazines and newspapers in his hand, flipped it open to the page, pointed at the small paragraph written about him and Jimin and the photo of the place, absolutely excited to see your reaction. 

But you had only taken one magazine, skimmed through it for a few seconds, and said “That’s nice. It’s good exposure.” And that was it… nothing more.

Third, you were harsh.

Your words didn’t always soften themselves before leaving your mouth. Jeongguk remembers how you called his picnic date by the han river idea “stupid” and also that one time when he showed you matching couple shirts, you looked at him like he was crazy and called the whole concept of matching couple items “cringey.” 

Fourth, you were confusing.

God, Jeongguk genuinely didn’t think he’d ever met someone moodier than you. Some days you would practically melt into him, letting him hold you for hours while you lazily played with his fingers and demanded attention every five minutes and then other days you would look at him like his mere existence within a five foot radius was irritating enough to start a war over. 

In short, there were times Jeongguk couldn’t even tell if you wanted a kiss or wanted him legally removed from the premises.

Fifth, you were stubborn.

Once you made up your mind about something, moving you was like trying to physically redirect a mountain. Jeongguk still remembers spending almost six months trying to convince you to let him pay for literally anything during your early dating days because you refused to rely on anyone financially for even a second. 

Sixth, you were distant.

You kept people at arm’s length so instinctively that sometimes Jeongguk wondered if you even realized you were doing it. It took him nearly two years to learn about your fear of thunderstorms and it took even longer for him to realize you only slept curled against him on particularly difficult nights because physical closeness was the only thing that quieted your anxiety enough to let you rest.

Seventh, you were way too particular.

God, your level of particularness bordered on insanity sometimes. Jeongguk remembers how you spent 12 consecutive days choosing kitchen tiles for the penthouse because you were simply convinced that choosing the wrong one would lowkey mean the end of the world. 

12 days. Over fucking kitchen tiles.

Eighth, you were unfair. 

You always made huge decisions alone, like purchasing the penthouse without telling him, like booking your honeymoon trip to New Zealand before discussing it with him, like filing for a divorce without ever giving him the chance to understand. 

Ninth, you were heartless.

At least that’s what Jeongguk tried forcing himself to believe because otherwise, how else was he supposed to justify the terrifying calmness in your eyes the night you handed him those divorce papers? How was he supposed to understand the way you walked away from him while he begged you to stay? How was he supposed to survive believing you still loved him after that?

And the tenth reason?

Jeongguk hated how easily it seemed like you erased him from your life while he still carried pieces of you in everything he did.

And yet… when Jeongguk tried to hold onto those 10 reasons, his heart betrayed him because for every single one of these reasons, there was something else, something that didn’t fit the version of you he was trying so desperately to believe in.

So he made another list. Not of the things he hated about you… but of the things that proved he never really could.

First, you weren’t selfish.

Because he remembers the way you used to quietly transfer money to the orphanage you spent most of your life in without ever mentioning it to anyone, the way you funded entire renovations and still acted like it was nothing. 

He remembers the nights you stayed up designing pieces not for your brand, but for charity auctions, the way you’d exhaust yourself for causes that had nothing to do with your own success.

Second, you weren’t cold.

Because he remembers how the very next day after he had shown you those articles, you randomly showed up at the cafe with each and every single article and photograph carefully cut out and neatly framed so that he and Jimin could put it up on the walls all around the cafe. 

Third, you weren’t harsh.

Because he remembers how your “stupid” and “cringey” comments never really meant what they sounded like on the surface. 

You called his picnic idea stupid, but still showed up and even made the sandwiches yourself despite being an objectively terrible cook. Jeongguk remembers how one of them had way too much mustard, another somehow had sugar instead of salt and one was so unevenly cut it looked like you’d given up halfway through. He still ate them with the biggest smile anyway.

You called matching couple items embarrassing, but three weeks later he found a small bag left outside his front door with a pair of brand new sneakers inside along with a simple handwritten note that said “i got the same ones :)”  

Fourth, you weren’t confusing.

Because slowly, over time, he learned that when you went quiet, it wasn’t because you didn’t want him. It was because something inside you felt too much and you didn’t know how to express it. 

He learned that your clingy days were the days you felt safe, and your distant ones were the days you needed him the most even if you pushed him away.

Fifth, you weren’t stubborn.

Because the same girl who refused to let him pay for literally anything was the same girl who eventually learned how to lean into him.

He remembers the first time you let him take care of you without arguing. The way you looked almost uncomfortable, like you didn’t know what to do with being loved so gently. You didn’t resist because you were stubborn, you resisted because you had never been given the option to rely on someone before.

Sixth, you weren’t distant.

Because he remembers the first time you told him about your mother, about how you ended up at the orphanage, about what it felt like to be left behind without fully understanding why. 

He remembers how you didn’t look at him much while you spoke and the way your fingers kept fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. You were never distant… you just needed time to feel safe enough to open up.

Seventh, you weren’t particular for simply no reason.

Because the kitchen tiles mattered so much to you only because the kitchen was one of the places you knew Jeongguk would spend most of his time in.

He was the better (only) cook between the two of you, that much was obvious, but more than that, you knew how it was always one of his greatest passions. So every detail you obsessed over, every option you reconsidered, every tiny difference you refused to overlook… it all came from that…. from wanting to make that space feel like his as much as possible.

Eighth, you weren’t unfair.

Because even when you made decisions on your own, you always carried him within them. 

The penthouse you purchased had the best view of the sunset, not because it mattered to you all that much, but because you knew how much Jeongguk loved watching the sun set. You booked your honeymoon trip to New Zealand only because he had briefly mentioned on your 3rd date about wanting to see the glowworm caves there someday.

And even the worst decision… the one that broke him the most… the divorce.

Jeongguk doesn’t know how to justify that one. He doesn’t know how to fit it into the same pattern without everything inside him falling apart but a part of him still thinks… maybe it wasn’t fair to you either.

Ninth, you weren’t heartless.

Because he remembers the way your fingers trembled that night, the sadness in your voice, the way you refused to look at him… not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too much almost like if you’d looked at him properly, you might not have been able to walk away at all.

And the tenth reason?

You didn’t erase him because if you really had… there would be nothing left of him in your world. But there was Yejun… living, breathing proof of everything the two of you had once been.

Jeongguk knows this isn’t exactly healthy… the way he keeps bending the truth, softening the edges of every memory, turning every sharp thing about you into something he can still hold onto without bleeding. He knows he shouldn’t be justifying you like this, shouldn’t be searching for gentleness in places that once hurt him.

It’s almost like… for every reason he gives himself to hate you, he finds two more that undo it.

And truthfully, Jeongguk has no idea how to stop this because he doesn’t think there’s a single part of him, not a bone, not a breath, not a single fiber of his heart, that’s even remotely capable of hating you.

You loved in ways that contradicted themselves. You were close and distant, warm and cold, careless and painfully intentional all at once. 

You drove him insane more times than he could count, left him confused, left him questioning where he stood, left him chasing something he could never fully understand and yet… you made him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had.

And he knows, deep down, that no matter how it ended… he will never ever hate you… but still… is it so wrong that a part of him aches? That a part of him wishes he hadn’t been left standing in the wreckage of something he’d believed would last forever?

Jeongguk lets out a quiet sigh before shoving the ring back into his pocket and turns towards the oven, carefully pulling out a fresh tray of caramel pecan danishes. His eyes flick to the small digital display on the oven where the time reads “12:23 a.m.”

By the time he steps out into the main cafe with the danishes transferred to a cooling tray, the place is already packed as usual. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and a long line snakes all the way from the register to the glass entrance doors, customers chatting amongst themselves while Jimin moves quickly behind the counter taking orders with the espresso machine hissing and the milk frothers whirring nonstop in the background while soft jazz plays through the speakers overhead.

Jeongguk carefully carries the tray over towards the display case near the register. He crouches slightly, arranging each danish neatly behind the glass.

The part timer finally slips behind the counter to replace Jimin for a while and almost instantly, Jimin makes his way over to Jeongguk. “What time do you have to leave again?” he asks, leaning against the counter as Jeongguk adjusts the tiny handwritten label just beneath the pastries.

“I need to be at Jun’s school by 3.” Jeongguk answers. “So I’ll probably head out around 2.” he adds as Jimin nods. “You going straight there?”

Jeongguk shakes his head lightly. “Nah. I’m gonna stop home first, shower, change… maybe grab the camera too.” he says, lips curving faintly. 

“Record his whole performance for me, okay?” Jimin instantly says. “Like I’m serious… don’t miss even a second.” he says sternly as Jeongguk nods. “Don’t worry, I will.” he chuckles. “I’ll send you the video later.”

There’s a brief pause before Jimin speaks again. “So..” his voice trails off. “Y/n’s coming too?”

Jeongguk’s movements slow for the smallest second before he nods once. “Yeah…” he says quietly. “She is.”

Jimin hums softly, folding his arms over his chest as he watches him. “Jun’s probably been counting down the days for this then.” he says with a small smile. “Kid gets so excited whenever both of you show up.”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk agrees softly. “He does.”

And it was true. Yejun always glows a little brighter whenever both of you are in the same room together, like some part of him still sees the three of you as one unit instead of fractured pieces trying their best to function separately.

Jeongguk wasn’t oblivious to the effort you’d been making lately either, especially after the divorce. 

You started showing up more… rearranging schedules, cancelling meetings, making time in ways you hadn’t before and it was clear that you no longer wanted to keep hurting Yejun, even unintentionally snd Jeongguk was grateful for that… he really really was but beneath that gratitude he just wished that it hadn’t taken losing everything for this to happen… that he didn’t have to go through a whole divorce just to see this version of you.

//

“The legal team has finalized the partnership drafts for your approval, and the quarterly financial reports have been sent to your inbox.” Haeun reports as you nod along to her words. 

“And your strategy review with the Tokyo team has been moved to tomorrow morning, and the board presentation has been pushed to next week.” she continues, eyes moving swiftly across her tablet. “Also, Mr. Choi will be here at 3 to pick you up and drop you off at your son’s school.”

At that, you give her a small, appreciative smile. “Great. Thanks, Haeun.” you say, offering a slight nod and she takes the cue immediately, bowing politely before turning to leave your office.

Once she’s out, you let out a soft sigh and lean back in your chair, turning slowly towards the floor to ceiling window that overlooks the wide stretch of Seoul.

You narrow your eyes slightly against the brightness of the afternoon sun, letting it sit on your face for a moment before turning back to your desk and your gaze lands almost immediately on the small frame beside your monitor.

It’s a picture of you and your son. 

Yejun’s laughing in the picture, cheeks chubby and eyes crinkled into crescents as you hold him close, looking at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

Your lips curve instinctively, as you gaze at the frame but your smile fades just as quickly as it came as your eyes lower. Your hand moves almost without thinking, reaching for the drawer beneath your desk and you hesitate for a full minute before pulling it open.

Your breath hitches just slightly as you look at the two frames that sit tucked neatly inside. 

One is a family photo where Jeongguk stands beside you with Yejun between the two of you, his tiny face squished slightly as both of you press kisses to his cheeks at the same time. 

The other… is your wedding photo... just you and Jeongguk.

You’re standing beside him, dressed in white, his hand wrapped securely around yours. He’s looking at you like you’re something he never wants to lose while you… you’re smiling at the camera in a way you haven’t seen in a long time.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for that frame, pulling it out carefully. A slow breath leaves you as you bring it closer, your head tilting just a little as your eyes linger on every detail, like you’re trying to memorize something you already know by heart.

And just like that, like a broken record… the voices from that night come rushing back all at once, so vivid it almost feels like you’re standing in your living room again and your eyes squeeze shut, your grip tightening around the frame until the edge presses uncomfortably into your palm.

Everything comes back… everything he said… everything you said.

The words collide into each other, louder and louder until you can’t even tell which one came first. His voice or your voice or the accusations or the defenses.

You know things escalated that night. You know you said things you didn’t mean, things you hate yourself for even now, words you wish you could just… take back, swallow whole, erase completely.

But there’s one thing that refuses to fade into the background, one particular sentence he said that keeps replaying louder than everything else.

“I’m so fucking exhausted.”

You don’t know what it was exactly… maybe it was the way his voice cracked just slightly at the end or maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way he didn’t even try to take it back or maybe it was because the words themselves felt far too familiar because it wasn’t the first time someone had said that very sentence to you.

And somehow, that was what made it hurt most because at that point of argument, he sounded less like your husband and a lot like someone giving up on you. 

Because suddenly, you could see it… his exhaustion, his frustration, the way he’d been desperately trying, over and over again, to make you understand, to reach you, to hold onto something that kept slipping through his fingers while you had just stood there, unable to meet him halfway, unable to give him what he was asking for, even when you knew he deserved it.

All you could feel in that moment was how small it made you, how guilty and pathetic you felt like you were standing there watching something break, knowing you were a part of the reason it was breaking and still not knowing how to stop it and that’s exactly when that quiet, suffocating fear you had buried so deep for so long began clawing its way back to the surface, wrapping around your thoughts until it was all you could hear.

The fear that maybe… your husband was finally starting to see you as someone impossible to love. 

And a fear so ugly, had always known how to turn itself into anger inside you because it was that exact moment when everything inside you started unraveling. All the things you’d never even thought of saying, the things you didn’t know you were capable of thinking, came spilling out before you could stop them.

And when he chose to sleep away from you that night, something he had never done before, it felt like the last straw, like all your fears were simply solidifying. 

You remember sitting there on the bedroom floor long after the door to the guest room had closed, your back pressed against the side of the bed with your hands lying uselessly in your lap as you simply stared at nothing. 

For the first time, you truly felt like Jeongguk was done with you and maybe that’s how you concluded the demise of your marriage. 

You sat there and let it all consume you because you didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know how to fix something that you thought had already begun to fall apart.

And somewhere in the middle of all that fear and helplessness, a thought took root. It didn’t come out of clarity, or from strength… it wasn’t logical or fair or even something you were proud of, but it felt necessary in that moment. 

You couldn’t bear the idea of him leaving you first. The thought of just standing there and watching him walk away, of hearing him say that he was done, felt far more unbearable than anything else because being left had never just been about heartbreak to you. 

It was your history.

And then there was Yejun.

Because if falling in love and marriage had always terrified you, motherhood was something else entirely.

You had never been one of those women who daydreamed about children or imagined herself naturally stepping into motherhood. You never really saw yourself as maternal, not because you didn’t know how to love, but because you had never been shown what a mother’s love was supposed to look like. 

How were you supposed to become something you never truly had? 

But when Yejun came into your life unexpectedly and you held him for the very first time, you wanted to give him everything.

Everything you had never received. A home that felt safe, a love that didn't disappear, a mother who stayed… a mother who chose him, every single day.

Which was exactly why Jeongguk’s words shattered something inside you because when he called out your carelessness, your constant absence, you didn’t just hear concern, you heard failure… you heard confirmation of every fear you'd spent years trying to outrun.

That maybe no matter how hard you loved your son… you were already becoming the very woman you had sworn you would never resemble.

And that thought terrified you more than anything because you could survive anything, but you couldn't survive being the reason Yejun ever felt even a fraction of what you had felt as a child.

You never wanted him to cry himself to sleep wondering why his mother felt distant, never wanted him to feel like he had to beg for affection, never wanted him to question whether he was enough, never wanted him to… even for a single second, think his mother was slowly drifting away from him… or worse, abandoning him altogether. 

So your mind did what wounded hearts often do when they are too overwhelmed to think clearly… it chose sacrifice.

If you couldn’t be everything at once, then maybe you had to choose. Maybe being a better mother meant pouring every broken piece of yourself into Yejun before it was too late, maybe trying to hold onto your marriage while drowning in guilt and fear would only make two people miserable and maybe Jeongguk… Jeongguk became the easier loss.

Not because you loved him less.

God, if anything, you loved him too much.. too much to watch resentment grow in his eyes, too much to imagine him waking up one day and realizing life might have been easier without you in it… too much to risk becoming another burden he had to carry.

So maybe you were running, maybe you were protecting yourself, maybe you were deflecting or maybe you were drowning too deeply in fear to tell the difference between survival and self-destruction but all you knew was, you couldn’t bear to feel like that 7 year old girl who helplessly watched her mother drive away and disappear into the storm, again. 

So instead of waiting for that moment to come sooner or later, you decided to take it into your own hands. You told yourself it would hurt less that way, that if you ended things first, you would at least have some control over how it all fell apart. 

But now, 6 months later, as you sit here, staring at a frame that holds everything you once had, you can finally see how wrong that thought was because it didn’t hurt any less. If anything, it hurt in ways you’d never prepared yourself for because now, you’re not only left with the ugly ache in your chest, but also the knowledge that you were the one who let go first.

// 

“Please let me know if you would like me to return for you once you’re done, ma’am.” Mr. Choi says, turning slightly from the driver’s seat. You offer him a polite smile, dipping your head in a small nod. “Thank you, Mr. Choi.”

With that, you step out of the car, your heels clicking against the pavement below. Once you shut the door, the afternoon breeze catches loose strands of your hair, brushing them across your face and Mr. Choi starts the car behind you, merging back into the road, leaving you alone by the sidewalk. 

You reach up, pushing your sunglasses down as the harsh sunlight spills across the school grounds ahead, forcing your eyes to narrow just a little. Your gaze lifts towards the entrance ahead, already crowded with people. You smooth a hand over your outfit almost absentmindedly before beginning to walk in the direction of the school gates.

A large, slightly crooked banner stretches across the entrance, hand-painted in bright, uneven colors. “Welcome to Songrim School’s Talent Show” it reads, the letters outlined with little stars and doodles.

Parents are gathered in small clusters near the gate, some holding bouquets of flowers and others juggling phones and cameras. There are children running around in half-finished costumes, some wearing oversized hats or capes that drag behind them as they laugh and chase each other across the courtyard.

A group of teachers stand near the entrance with clipboards in hand, trying to maintain some kind of order as they call out names and direct students towards the auditorium. Every now and then, a child breaks away from the line, rushing towards their parents with excitement, only to be gently ushered back again.

As you move further into the courtyard, your gaze drifts across the crowd as you try to spot the precious little boy you came here for.

“Y/n—!” The sudden sound of your name cuts through the noise, making you stop in your tracks and you glance over your shoulder, your eyes narrowing slightly behind your sunglasses as you search for the source of the voice.

And then you see him.

Jeongguk’s waving at you as he jogs over from the direction of the parking lot, weaving his way through the crowd.

“You’re… you’re here.” he breathes out when he finally reaches you, slightly bent forward, one hand resting on his knee as he tries to catch his breath with a faint sheen of sweat lining his forehead. “I—sorry… did… did I keep you waiting long?” he adds, words coming out in short, breathless fragments between inhales.

You don’t answer right away, deciding to take him in instead. His video camera bag slings across his shoulder and his fuzzy brown coat sits perfectly over his frame. “I just got here.” you simply say and Jeongguk studies you for a second, trying to catch your eyes behind the dark lenses, like he’s searching for something he’s not sure you’ll let him find.

But you’ve already looked away, adjusting your purse over your shoulder and crossing your arms over your chest. “We should go find Yejun.” you say as you begin walking again and Jeongguk swallows, before nodding to himself and follows a step behind you.

The two of you move through the crowd side by side but not quite together, your eyes scanning the courtyard filled with people. There are too many faces, too many small voices overlapping at once, making it harder than it should be to find the one you’re looking for but then—

“Mama!! Daddy!!”

Both of you turn at the exact same time, almost instinctively, and there Yejun is, standing in line with his class, practically bouncing on his toes as he waves at you with both hands now, like he can’t contain himself. 

He’s dressed in the most adorable little sea-themed costume… soft blue overalls with shimmering fabric stitched along the sides to look like waves, a tiny plush whale sewn onto his chest, and a pair of fin-like sleeves that wobble every time he moves. There’s even a little headband sitting slightly crooked on his hair with a felt dorsal fin sticking up, tilting to one side from all his excited movement. His cheeks are dusted with a bit of glitter and there’s tiny little bubbles painted  along the side of his face, though one of them is already smudged.

At the front of the line, a teacher stands with a clipboard, calling out names, trying to keep the children from drifting out of place as they fidget and chatter among themselves but Yejun doesn’t look away from his parents for even a second.

You giggle, instantly removing your shades and lift your hand, waving back at him and beside you, Jeongguk instantly whips out his video camera with the proudest smile as he quickly starts recording. “Yejun-ah!” he calls out and Yejun immediately perks up at the sound of it, turning his full attention towards the camera. His little body straightens, and then he starts posing… throwing up peace signs, puffing his cheeks, even doing a tiny spin that makes the fin on his headband wobble dangerously to one side.

You coo softly at the sight, your smile only growing wider but the moment doesn’t last long as the teacher at the front begins ushering the children forward, guiding the line towards the auditorium and Yejun is pulled along with the rest, though he keeps glancing back at you, still waving until he disappears past the doors.

Jeongguk lets out a small sigh as he lowers the camera, his thumb already moving to replay the footage with a fond smile as he watches it back and while he watches his son, you find yourself looking at him.

Jeongguk had always been a good father, even before Yejun was born.

God, you remember how terrified you were when you first found out you were pregnant. For someone who had spent most of her life convincing herself she would never fall in love, never get married, never build a family… it all felt unreal now that these things were actually happening in your life. 

But with Jeongguk beside you… it never felt as unbearable as you thought it would be. 

Apart from the fact that it was the bare minimum any man who called himself a father should do, Jeongguk still went out of his way to do more, to make everything easier for you in ways you hadn’t even realized you needed.

He was there through everything… every appointment, sitting beside you with your hand in his, asking questions you hadn’t even thought to ask. 

Every time morning sickness got the better of you, he’d instantly bring you some warm ginger tea or lemon water, something he had looked up and memorized just to ease the nausea and sit beside you on the bathroom floor, carefully holding your hair back while his hand rested gently against your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles until it passed.

On nights when your body would get too restless, he’d stay awake with you without hesitation. Sometimes he’d talk softly about his day, about random little things just to fill the silence and other times he’d just sit there with you, occasionally kissing your neck and temple as his fingers stayed intertwined with yours. 

No matter what time of the day or night it was, if you so much as mentioned wanting a bulgogi rice bowl, he’d be in the kitchen without hesitation, with his sleeves rolled up and tattoos on full display. And every day, without fail, he’d bring you something sweet from the cafe, something he baked himself. 

When your body ached, he was always there before you could even ask. He’d massage your shoulders, rub your feet, kiss your body all over. 

Most nights he’d lay on your chest, with one hand gently stroking your bump as he spoke to your baby like he was already here. He’d tell him about his day, about how much he couldn’t wait to meet him, about how strong his mama was, how beautiful she looked even when she thought she didn’t and how lucky he was to have you.

And in every moment when you felt like you didn’t know what you were doing, when doubt crept in and made everything feel overwhelming, he never once made you feel like you were falling short. If anything, he made you feel like you were doing something extraordinary.

And after Yejun was born, something about him softened even more.

He memorized Yejun’s cries within weeks, could tell if he was hungry or just needed to be held. He learned how to burp him properly, figured out which pacifier Yejun preferred after trying 3 different ones, insisting there had to be a difference even when you told him they all looked the same.

He learned how to swaddle him just right, adjusting the blanket over and over until it was snug enough to make Yejun calm down instantly. 

There were nights when you would stir at the faintest sound, only to feel the empty space beside you and find Jeongguk already up, gently rocking Yejun in his arms, whispering soft words into his hair until the tiny hiccups of crying settled into quiet breathing. He’d even fall asleep like that sometimes, sitting upright on the couch with Yejun curled against his chest, one hand protectively cupped around his tiny back.

In the mornings, he’d let you sleep in without ever saying a word, moving around the house as quietly as possible, warming milk, changing diapers, humming softly to keep Yejun entertained. And when you’d finally wake up, you’d find them both in the kitchen as Jeongguk balanced Yejun in one arm while trying to cook with the other hand and occasionally kissing the top of his son’s head when he’d get too fussy.

Bath times became little routines with Yejun gripping onto his father’s fingers while Jeongguk exaggerated every movement just to hear him giggle. He’d wrap him up in a towel like a little burrito afterward and press small kisses against his damp hair while murmuring how perfect he was.

Now that you think about it… you don’t think you ever really had to worry about anything else back then other than breastfeeding your son (something Jeongguk would have gladly taken over without hesitation if it were biologically possible).

And when it came to you, it felt like Jeongguk had started seeing you in a different light. 

After watching you endure hours of pain to bring Yejun into this world, the way he looked at you changed. It wasn’t just love anymore, it was something almost reverent like you were something stronger than everything he’d ever known. 

He knew it hadn’t been easy for you… not the months of carrying a literal life inside you, not the exhaustion that clung to you, not the way you would sometimes stand in front of the mirror a little too long, your hands resting over your body like you were trying to recognize it again. 

He noticed everything, every hint of insecurity, every hint of tension and he made sure to never let you sit with that feeling for long. He made it his purpose to remind you, over and over again, just how much he loved you for all of it in more ways than one. 

Not despite it, but because of it.

“Y/n?” Jeongguk’s voice abruptly snaps you out of your trance as you stiffen slightly, suddenly aware of how long you’d been staring at him. “Oh… um…” you falter, your gaze dropping almost instantly as you try to compose yourself. “We should probably head inside.” you say, gesturing vaguely towards the auditorium doors ahead.

“Yeah… yeah.” he agrees, shifting the camera strap on his shoulder. “They’ll probably call the parents in once all the kids are lined up anyway.” There’s a brief pause as he looks at you again. “We might as well wait near the entrance.” he adds and you nod, a little too quickly. “Right.”

As the two of you step forward, making your way towards the auditorium, a shrill voice cuts through the noise of the courtyard before you can get very far.

“Jeongguk-ssi !!”

Your jaw tightens almost instantly as you turn alongside Jeongguk, already knowing exactly who it is before you even see her.

Kim Yuna.

The hot single mom and fellow parent whose son, Woojin, happens to go to the same school and is very good friends with Yejun. She’s someone you have encountered often enough to recognize not just her face, but her… patterns and it would be fair to say you have some history (one sided, but still) with her.

Back when Jeongguk was still your husband and the two of you were making a genuine effort to be friendly with the other parents whose children would share a part of your son’s life, you had tried to be polite with her. 

You had smiled, introduced yourself properly, asked her about her son, about school routines, about the small things people usually talk about in these situations.

Yuna, however, had very little interest in what you had to say because conversations with her always seemed to reroute themselves, somehow, inevitably, towards Jeongguk.  

You would begin a sentence and somehow she would end up responding to him, you would ask a question and she would answer it while looking at him and she had the most annoying habit of talking over you rather than to you and it was subtle enough to be deniable, but consistent enough to be impossible to ignore.

And your sweet husband, for all his strengths, had been painfully oblivious to it… to the exaggerated flutter of her lashes, to the way her hand would linger on his arm, to the not-so-subtle wardrobe choices that felt slightly excessive for something as mundane as a primary school pickup… nothing overt enough to call out, but not nearly as innocent as it pretended to be.

Over time, though, you had managed to calmly convey to Jeongguk that you weren’t particularly fond of this woman.You didn’t know what her intentions were, didn’t know if this was simply the way she carried herself, but something about her had just never sat right with you.

Jeongguk, to his credit, hadn’t questioned you, didn’t brush it off or make you feel unreasonable. He had simply taken note and from that point on, he kept his distance like the loyal husband he was. No unnecessary conversations during drop-offs, no lingering politeness during pick-ups, no acknowledgment beyond what was required at school events. It was never made into a big deal, but it was handled.

But now things are different.

Jeongguk isn’t your husband anymore, and your divorce, inconveniently, is not something that stayed private for long. With you being a public figure and all, it had made its way into headlines and hit the tabloids barely a week after your separation, dissected and speculated on by people who knew nothing about what had actually fallen apart between the two of you.

So as Yuna finally stops in front of the two of you, slightly breathless, her attention already locked onto Jeongguk, lashes fluttering so aggressively you’re half convinced they might actually detach and fly off, you can’t help but think she probably assumes this as her opportunity… her moment… the perfect, neatly timed opening to finally get close to Jeongguk in a way she never quite could before.

And what makes it worse is the unsettling possibility that it might not even be an assumption anymore because what if Jeongguk notices it this time and what if, instead of brushing it off like he used to, he lets himself sit in it for a second and realises he actually likes it. What if he doesn’t mind being wanted like this anymore, what if he’s open to it, open to moving on, to letting someone else step into a space that once belonged only to you. What if, this time, he doesn’t step back, doesn’t draw that line he used to hold so firmly. What if he lets himself be taken in by it, not because he doesn’t know better, but because he no longer has a reason to resist it

And just like that… you feel that familiar, unwelcome twist in your chest. Only this time, you’re not sure if you have the right to feel like this anymore, especially when the man standing beside you is no longer yours. 

“Oh my god, hello Jeongguk-ssi!!” Yuna beams, her voice bright and just a little too eager. Jeongguk hesitates for half a second, his eyes instinctively flickering towards you first, a faint crease forming between his brows like he’s already a little thrown off. 

When you don’t meet his gaze, he recovers, offering a polite, restrained smile. “Yuna-ssi, hello.” he says, his fingers tightening slightly around the strap of his camera bag, shoulders squaring in that subtle way you’ve learned means he’s trying to keep things neutral.

Yuna doesn’t seem to register it… or maybe she does and simply chooses not to care. “Wow, it’s been a while.” she says, stepping just a little closer. She doesn’t even look at you, not once, and not that you’re particularly eager to speak to her, but it’s almost impressive how thoroughly she manages to pretend like you’re fucking invisible. 

“You look really good… have you been working out more?” she adds with a soft laugh, her hand coming up to brush his arm in that same way you’ve always hated. Your fingers twitch where they’re tucked against your own arm, getting the urge to just whack her stupid hand away. 

Jeongguk stiffens just slightly at the contact, his shoulders pulling back a fraction as if on instinct. “Ah… not really.” he says, giving a small, awkward smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I feel like we keep missing each other during evening pick-ups…” Yuna continues, tilting her head playfully. “I don’t see you anymore. It’s kinda disappointing.” she adds with a pout.

You nearly scoff but instead, you settle for rolling your eyes and tightening your arms over your chest as you turn your gaze away from her.

Jeongguk lets out a quiet breath, clearly unsure where to look before his gaze flickers towards you for a second again. “I usually just… pick Yejun up and leave.” he says, rubbing his nape now. “I don’t really stay around much.”

“Oh? That’s such a shame. You should stay a little longer sometimes.” Yuna grins. “It’d be nice to actually talk to you properly.”

He gives a short, awkward laugh at that, shifting his weight slightly. “Yeah umm I… don’t really have the time for that these days.” he says, his tone polite but edged with discomfort, his eyes flicking towards you again but you don’t spare him a single glance. 

Instead, you keep your gaze fixed ahead, letting it skim over your surroundings and just then, the auditorium doors swing open again and a steady stream of people begin to move inside so you take it as the perfect excuse to remove yourself from whatever this is.

“I’m going in.” you say finally, your tone almost bored as you adjust your purse on your shoulder. “You can come when you’re done… catching up, I guess.” you say shooting Jeongguk a sharp look and without waiting for a response, you step forward and walk past them, your heels clicking softly against the ground as you make your way towards the auditorium, slipping into the crowd. 

Jeongguk watches you go, his expression tightening almost instantly as he takes a step forward to follow you. “Y/n, wai—” 

“Jeongguk-ssi, wait.” Yuna says quickly, both her hands wrapping around his bicep before he can move any further and Jeongguk reluctantly stops, his brows drawing together immediately at the contact while his body goes stiff. “We should sit together.” she suggests, her tone excited. “It’ll be more fun that way.” she giggles and Jeongguk blinks at her, clearly caught off guard, his expression shifting into something closer to disbelief than hesitation. “Oh, no, I—”

“Come on.” she interrupts with a soft laugh, her grip tightening around his bicep just slightly. “Wouldn’t it be awkward to sit with your ex-wife?” she adds coyly. Jeongguk’s expression hardens almost immediately at that, his jaw tightening as he glances towards the auditorium again, catching the last glimpse of you disappearing inside.

“Yuna-ssi.” he starts, turning back to face the woman who’s still holding him, his voice polite but noticeably firmer now. He brings his hand up to peel her hands off his arm. “I have to go.”

Yuna’s smile falters at that as her hands hesitantly fall back to her sides but Jeongguk gives her a small, restrained smile, already taking a step back to put some space between them. “We’re both here for Yejun today.” he says. “And I’m pretty sure he’d appreciate it if both his parents were sitting together.” 

And before she can say anything else, he turns and makes his way towards the auditorium, his pace quickening just slightly as he follows the path you took.

Jeongguk weaves through the crowd, his gaze lifting every few seconds as he tries to spot you over the sea of heads filling the auditorium. The place is louder inside, packed with parents settling in and teachers calling out instructions somewhere near the stage. 

He shifts from one foot to the other, clearly impatient as the line ahead of him barely moves, families taking their own sweet time choosing seats. He exhales under his breath, running a hand through his hair before stepping forward again murmuring a quiet “excuse me” here, a slightly more rushed “sorry” there as he squeezes past people. 

His eyes keep scanning, searching, until finally, he spots you seated somewhere in the third row. 

So he starts moving faster, weaving through the remaining rows with a string of hurried “excuse me, sorry, just— thank you” until he finally reaches you and instantly notices the empty seat right beside you.

For a second, he just stands there, catching his breath, his eyes lingering on the empty seat. He tells himself not to read into it, because frankly, it isn’t actually a big deal but still… he’d like to think you saved it for him. 

You don’t look at Jeongguk when he stops beside you. Even though he knows you’ve noticed him, your posture doesn’t change as your gaze stays fixed straight ahead on the stage.

“Uh… hey.” he says under his breath, shifting awkwardly before he clears his throat and slowly lowers himself into the seat beside you, careful not to brush against you, like even that might be crossing a line. “Nice seats.” he tries again, forcing a small, unsure smile as he glances at you, then quickly back at the stage when you don’t return it. “I’m pretty sure Yejun will be able to see us from up there.” he adds with a soft chuckle.

You sit there, arms crossed neatly over your chest and legs crossed at the ankle, your attention fixed ahead like he isn’t even there. Jeongguk shifts slightly in his seat, his hands settling awkwardly on his lap before he rubs his palms together, then stills them again, clearly unsure of what to do with himself. 

He glances at you once more, like he’s debating whether to say something else, whether to try again.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he exhales quietly and leans back just a little, his gaze drifting from the stage to the rest of the auditorium as his fingers continue fidgeting with his camera. His eyes move absentmindedly, until they settle on you once again… more specifically, your legs.

Your skirt has ridden up slightly from how you’re sitting, and he instantly notices the faint goosebumps scattered across your skin, probably due to the cool air coming from the overhead vents.

He hesitates for half a second but before he can think too much of it, he carefully sets his camera down on his lap and shrugs off his fuzzy coat. Without a word, he leans forward just slightly and drapes it over your legs, adjusting it so it sits properly, covering you comfortably. That finally pulls a reaction out of you as your eyes widen, your composure breaking as you look down at the coat, then up at him, absolutely confused. “I don’t need—”

“It’s fine.” he cuts in gently, offering you a small smile. “I was feeling warm anyway.” he shrugs, pursing his lips. It’s a poor excuse… both of you know it, but he doesn’t take it back. Instead, he leans back into his seat again as his gaze returns to the stage and you gulp as you look down at the coat resting over your legs as your fingers brush lightly against the fuzzy fabric.

Eventually, the entire auditorium begins to settle as parents find their seats and teachers move along the aisles, making sure everything is in order and the lights dim gradually. 

A few minutes pass before the curtains part, and the show begins.

A group of slightly older kids finish their performances first, some singing and some dancing while parents around the auditorium laugh softly and clap a little too loudly. A few more acts pass like that, each one a little clumsy, a little off-beat, but so full of effort and earnestness that it makes everything feel impossibly endearing. 

Evebtually, the music shifts to a more funkier tune and a teacher steps forward to announce the next segment. 

The fashion show.

You straighten up almost immediately, knowing this is Yejun’s segment. Your fingers quickly reach for your phone to snap pictures while beside you, Jeongguk already has his camera ready, the record button pressed before the first child even steps onto the stage.

One by one, the children walk onto the stage, dressed in colorful, theme-based handmade costumes, clutching tiny props. 

A few wave far too enthusiastically at the crowd, little hands flapping with excitement as they forget they’re supposed to keep walking. Others take their role very seriously like they’re on a real runway with their chins lifted and shoulders squared. Some are shy, but even then they manage small, nervous smiles that make the audience melt all the same.

And then, finally, it’s Yejun’s turn.

He walks onto the stage with small, careful steps, his outfit the same one you saw earlier, but under the stage lights, it looks even more adorable. 

For a moment, he looks almost too serious, concentrating hard as he walks forward, like he’s determined to get it just right and then he looks up and you can see the exact second his eyes begin scanning the crowd, searching, a little uncertain at first.

Until they land on you and Jeongguk.

His entire face lights up instantly, breaking into the brightest, most cutest smile. 

You don’t even realize you’ve already started taking pictures, your thumb tapping rapidly against the screen. Beside you, Jeongguk lifts his camera slightly higher. “Yejun-ah!” he calls out, his voice warm and almost proud as he flashes his son an enthusiastic thumbs up.

You find yourself lifting your hand too, waving at your son without thinking. 

Yejun beams even wider at that, his steps growing just a little more confident as he reaches the center of the stage. He attempts a spin, a slightly exaggerated one that makes his little feet stumble for a second, his arms flailing just enough to make the audience let out a collective “awww”  before he steadies himself. Undeterred, he plants his feet firmly, places his hands on his hips and lifts his chin just a little too high, clearly convinced he looks incredibly cool. 

It’s so earnest and so ridiculously adorable, that a wave of soft laughter ripples through the auditorium and you laugh too, but it catches somewhere in your chest as you feel your eyes stinging because it suddenly dawns on you that your baby is growing up so fast. 

“He’s so cute.” Jeongguk fondly murmurs beside you but you don’t hear him at first because you’re too busy watching Yejun, too busy trying to memorize everything about this moment before it slips away.

“I still can’t believe…” Jeongguk starts again, his camera still trained on your son. “That we made something so perfect like him.”

At that, your finger pauses mid-tap on your phone screen, your gaze flickering towards him for just a second. There’s something in his expression, something soft and almost disbelieving, like he’s seeing Yejun for the first time all over again. 

“Yeah.” you breathe out with a tender smile as your eyes drift back to the stage, to your son. “At least, we did something right, didn’t we?” 

Jeongguk doesn’t reply to that. Instead, his eyes linger on you, on the delicate curve of your smile, on the way your expression softens when you look at Yejun. 

He wishes you hadn’t said it like that.

At least.

As if that’s all there was… as if everything the two of you had been, everything you had built together, could be reduced to just one thing that survived.

//

“Mama!! Daddy!!” Yejun calls out as he comes running out into the courtyard, his small hand slipping free from his teacher’s grasp the second he spots the two of you.

It’s much darker now as the late evening air brushes past you. Parents linger in small groups, some chatting, some crouched down to greet their children who are promptly dropped off by their respective teachers. 

Yejun’s still in his costume, though the headband is gone now and the faint smudges of face paint on his cheeks look like they’ve been hurriedly wiped away, leaving behind soft streaks that only make him look even more endearing.

“Did you see me?” he asks breathlessly the second he reaches you, practically bouncing on his feet as he looks up. You’re already crouching down before he even finishes the sentence while behind you, his teacher exchanges a few words with Jeongguk, smiling as she mentions how excited Yejun had been to find the teo of you in the crowd. 

“You were amazing, bug.” you say, your hands immediately finding his little shoulders as you pull him closer to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “You were the best one up there, you know that?”

Yejun giggles at that, his nose scrunching slightly as he leans into you without hesitation. “Mama and Daddy couldn’t stop watching you.” you continue, your fingers slipping to his sides as you give him a light tickle. “We were so, so proud of you.”

He lets out a burst of giggles, squirming in your hold as he tries to wiggle away, only to end up leaning right back into you again as his small hands clutch onto your sleeves. “Did you see my spin?” he asks with wide eyes, his words tumbling over each other. “I almost fell, but I didn’t!”

“Oh really?” you laugh softly, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “I barely even noticed. Maybe you just recovered like a pro.”

Yejun beams at that, his little chest puffing up with pride, clearly taking your words very seriously. 

“That’s right, buddy.” Jeongguk finally joins in as the teacher excuses herself and steps away. He crouches down right beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost brush. “You were amazing, Jun. Daddy got the whole thing on camera. Every second of it.” he smiles, making Yejun’s eyes light up instantly, his excitement somehow doubling as he looks between the two of you, practically glowing under all the attention.

Soon enough, your son slips his small hands into both yours and Jeongguk’s, naturally placing himself right in the middle as the three of you begin walking out of the crowded courtyard. 

He swings both your arms a little as he walks, his steps turning bouncy as he immediately launches into a story he’s been dying to share. “Mama, you know what happened today?” he starts, looking up at you and then at Jeongguk, making sure he has both of your attention before continuing.

“What happened?” you ask gently. “We all got stickers from Miss Han so that we can be brave before going on stage…” he begins. “I got a shiny star. It was really big… and glittery.”

Jeongguk hums softly, smiling as the three of you continue walking.

“But then…” Yejun continues. “Minjae didn’t get a star. He got a smiley one… but I think he liked mine more.” he explains. “So even though he didn’t ask… I told him we could trade and I gave him my star… and I took the smiley sticker instead.”

“Aw baby, you gave him your star?” you ask and Yejun nods, proudly. “Yeah, because he looked a little sad…” he says, his little shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “And Miss Han said all the stickers are for being brave anyway… so it didn’t matter which one I had.” He pauses for a second. “I just wanted Minjae to feel happy.”

For a brief moment, both you and Jeongguk glance at each other. “Hey…” Jeongguk says gently, looking back at Yejun. “That was really kind of you, buddy.”

Yejun beams instantly at the praise, his steps turning even bouncier as he swings both your hands again.“I just did what you and Mama do.” he says proudly, and for a second both you and Jeongguk look at him with furrowed brows, a little confused. “What do we do, Jun?” Jeongguk asks.

“Like when we order fried chicken and you give Mama all the drumsticks because she likes them more.” he says, glancing up at Jeongguk before turning to look up at  you. “And when we order pizza, you always give Daddy the slices with more cheese and pepperoni because he likes those the best.” he adds, tilting his head. 

Both of your steps slow down as you take in your son’s words. 

“You both always give the better things to each other… without even asking.” he finishes, squeezing both your hands a little tighter. “So I did that too because I wanted Minjae to feel happy.” 

And just like that, your heart feels like it’s been pulled apart and put back together in a completely different way because there’s something almost disarming about how much children notice, how they gather meaning from the smallest, most insignificant moments. What feels incidental to you becomes foundational to them. What you do absentmindedly, they remember with intention.

Children don’t understand love in the way adults try to define it, but they recognize it in its purest form. They see it in the little exchanges, in the unconscious generosity, in the way care reveals itself without ever needing to announce its presence. 

And somehow, without ever being taught, they learn that this is what love looks like.

Before you or Jeongguk can even gather yourselves enough to respond, Yejun is already speaking again. “I miss eating together though…” he confesses, his voice much softer now as the three of you finally come to a stop near the school gates, where the crowd has noticeably thinned out.

“Like… all of us…” he adds, tilting his head up to look at the both of you, his grip on your hands tightening just a little. “At the table… when we share.. and when Daddy would make funny faces when Mama wasn’t looking…” he continues, with a little grin as he looks at Jeongguk. “Like… he’d puff his cheeks and cross his eyes at me like this…” he demonstrates poorly, his tiny face scrunching in an attempt to recreate it. “And then I’d laugh and Mama would be like, ‘what happened?’” he giggles. 

There’s a small pause again as Yejun lets out a tiny breath. “Can we do that again, Mama?” he asks, his voice careful in a way that shouldn’t belong to someone his age. “I was good today, right…?” His fingers tighten around yours, just a little. “So… can we do that again?” he continues, looking up at you with so much hope in his sparkly eyes. “Can we have dinner, tonight? All three of us… together.”

The minute the words leave his mouth, you feel your heart splintering. It’s the way he says them, the way he asks like it’s something he has to earn… like it’s supposed to be a reward for being good. 

Jeongguk snaps his head towards you almost instantly, but you don’t look at him as your eyes stay on Yejun.

You had prepared yourself for the divorce to be difficult. You had told yourself it would hurt… that it would hurt Jeongguk. You had prepared for the endless nights spent convincing yourself that leaving first was somehow safer than waiting around to be left behind.

After the divorce, everything was divided into arrangements and co-parenting schedules that were meant to make things easier and there were barely any moments where the three of you existed in the same space for more than an hour at most. 

You and Jeongguk simply learned for 6 long months how to coexist around Yejun without ever really being together anymore but somewhere in that separation, you hadn’t realized what it must feel like for your son.

His world hadn’t just changed, it had been split into parts he didn’t know how to put back together. There was no language for it, no explanation that could make sense to him… only the confusion of why something that used to be whole, now comes to him in pieces.

And now here he is, trying to glue it back all together, in his own little.

Not with questions or with complaints, but with a small, hopeful request, held out in both his tiny little hands like something he has to beg for, like something he can earn by being good, like something as simple as behaving well might be enough to bring both his parents back to the same table again.

You feel the guilt surging through your veins as you continue staring down at him. It isn’t just regret, it’s the realization that your fear, your need to protect yourself from a heartbreak you hadn’t even faced yet, had created a different kind of hurt for someone who never asked for it. 

“Can we, Mama?” Yejun asks again, snapping you back to reality and for a second, all you can do is gulp down the lump in your throat and press your lips together before forcing out a small smile. “Of course, bug.” you say softly. “Of course we can.”

Yejun’s face lights up instantly, like the answer alone is enough to fix something inside him and only then do you lift your gaze up to Jeongguk who’s already looking at you. “Is that… “ you hesitate. “...okay with you?”

Jeongguk’s brows pull together slightly, like the idea that he would say no to something like this, doesn’t even make sense to him. He glances down at Yejun, who’s already looking between the two of you with barely contained excitement.

“Of course it is.” 

//

According to the initial plan, Yejun was meant to stay with you for the next few days anyway, right up until the end of the week. 

When he asked for dinner together, both you and Jeongguk had instinctively suggested going out, offering up the idea of a nice restaurant but Yejun had simply shaken his head and said he wanted to go home and not just that. He wanted fried chicken too.

And neither you nor Jeongguk could question it or have the heart to deny him because both of you understood that this wasn't really about the food anyway. So that’s how, right now, Jeongguk finds himself easing his car into the underground garage of your penthouse building with you in the passenger seat and Yejun in the back, strapped to his car seat.

“You mind ordering the chicken…” you say, glancing back at Jeongguk as the three of you step inside. “I’ll go bathe him.”

“Oh yeah…” Jeongguk nods quickly. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.” he says, shrugging off his coat. Yejun tugs at your hand immediately, leading you down the hallway as he starts rambling about how he wants “extra crispy” and “the one with the sauce Daddy likes” and Jeongguk just stands there for a second, watching the two of you disappear down the hallway, with a soft smile he can’t really hide. 

About 40 minutes later, you stand in front of the mirror in your nightgown with the robe hanging loosely over your shoulders, running the brush through your hair and by the time you step out, Yejun is already at the table, his hair still a little damp from the bath you gave him. He’s dressed in his turtle themed pajamas and his little legs swing under the table while Jeongguk stands nearby, carefully setting the plates and you don’t miss the three boxes of fried chicken sitting right in the middle. 

The second Yejun spots you, his whole face lights up. “Mama, mama come fast, the chicken is here!” he calls out, practically bouncing on his chair as he waves you over.

Jeongguk’s head snaps up at his son’s voice and the moment his eyes land on you, he’s convinced he’s forgotten the mechanical basics of human respiration because, oxygen? Yeah, he’s never heard of her.

He’s always had a dangerous weakness for your post-shower state… that dewy glow that literally makes you look like something out of a dream… and then there’s those godforsaken nightgowns and silk robes Jeongguk has come to hate after the divorce, because back when he actually had "unrestricted access", dealing with them was a sport because he vividly remembers the satisfaction of pulling you close and using his teeth to slide that robe and those silk straps down your shoulders… but now? Now that those straps are strictly “look-but-don't-touch” territory, he’s basically forced to stay in the trenches. 

You’re completely oblivious to the way Jeongguk’s gaze is practically scorching the air between you as you glide towards the table and pull out the chair directly across from Yejun.

God, his son is sitting right there, while Jeongguk’s thoughts are drifting into dangerous territory, imagining a version of this very moment where Yejun isn’t present and he could just push all these plates aside, hoist you onto the table and feel your thighs wrap around his waist.

He’s staring at the curve of your neck, remembering the exact taste of your skin when you’re all flushed and breathless, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and reclaim what used to be his right then and there.

“Daddy, the chicken’s gonna get cold!” Yejun whines, breaking Jeongguk’s trance and snapping him back to the present. “Right.” he breathes out, more to himself than anything, as he finally pulls out the chair and sits down beside Yejun.

The moment he opens the boxes, Yejun leans forward immediately, practically vibrating with anticipation as he peers into the box. You smile at the sight and just when you’re about to reach forward, fingers already moving to pick out a piece for him, Jeongguk beats you to it, but he doesn’t serve Yejun first, instead he serves you, placing a piece on your plate.

A drumstick.

You look up at him immediately, a little caught off guard, even though it isn’t exactly unfamiliar. If anything, it’s too familiar and now it’s almost impossible to ignore especially with the way your son had just spoken about specifically this earlier. 

Jeongguk doesn’t meet your eyes because he’s already looking away and reaching back into the box to pick out another piece that he places onto Yejun’s plate next. “Careful, it’s still hot.” he says, gently nudging Yejun’s hand away from grabbing it too quickly, and the little boy simply huffs a little in protest but listens anyway. 

Eventually, the three of you begin eating and Yejun talks through most of the meal, barely pausing between bites, his words tumbling over each other as he recounts yet another story from his day.

You listen, smiling softly, occasionally reacting at the right moments, while Jeongguk sits beside him, carefully separating the meat from the bones, making sure there’s nothing sharp or messy left before placing small portions onto Yejun’s plate and every now and then, he nudges a piece closer to him or reminds him to slow down.

For a brief, fragile moment, it feels like nothing has changed… like this is still what your evenings look like, sitting across from each other, laughing at the same silly things your son says and it’s all so so so familiar it almost tricks you into forgetting the state of how things are now. 

Almost.

Once the plates are cleared, Yejun wastes no time, dragging Jeongguk towards his bedroom, wanting his father to read his nightly bedtime story tonight and Jeongguk, powerless against his son’s pout, offers a soft smile that says he wouldn't be anywhere else.

You retreat to the living room, seeking refuge in a glass of wine as you decide to go through your emails for a bit when Jeongguk finally steps out from your son’s room and you look over your shoulder, immediately setting your glass and laptop down on the coffee table and stand up, smoothing out your nightgown.

“He’s out like a log.” Jeongguk chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he walks a little closer. “Didn’t even make it past the part where Max tames the wild things this time… I think the day finally caught up to him.”

You hum softly, nodding as you fold your arms loosely across your chest, offering him a small, tight smile which Jeongguk mirrors almost unconsciously and before either of you can even process it, you’re both just… standing there.

Facing each other.

With nothing to say.

The silence stretches between you and it’s funny because 6 months should have made this easier but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s only made you both more aware of how to exist around each other without crossing any invisible lines.

You glance towards the kitchen for no real reason, while Jeongguk shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His fingers brush against the fabric of his jeans, fidgeting slightly, like he doesn’t quite know where to place his hands anymore.

These kinds of moments have always been awkward over the past few months, but you had learned how to handle them. You’d learned how to recover quickly, how to keep your expression composed, your tone even, your distance intact. You’d gotten good at not letting Jeongguk see it, at not letting him feel the vulnerability, the hesitation, the heartache that lingers underneath.

But tonight… feels different.

You’re not sure what it is exactly. Maybe it was the way he had draped his coat over your legs or the way Yejun had unknowingly held up a mirror to something you’d been trying not to look at too closely. 

Maybe it was sitting across from Jeongguk again, at the same table, sharing a meal with Yejun like you used to, like nothing had ever broken in the first place or maybe it was something as small as the drumstick he placed on your plate just like he used to.

Whatever it was, you can’t quite put your finger on it. You just know that something in you feels… different tonight. Like the walls you’ve carefully built over the past months have started to crack and it’s unsettling because for the first time in a long while, you don’t feel in control of it.

When the silence stretches just a little too long to ignore, both of you speak at the same time.

“—So—”

You stop, he stops and a quiet, awkward breath leaves both of you almost in sync.

“You… you go.” Jeongguk mutters, giving a small nod towards you as he presses his lips together. “No, it’s fine.” you shake your head quickly. “I just—” You pause, the words catching somewhere halfway, before you realize there isn’t really anything meaningful to dress this up with. “So…” you try again, your voice a little steadier this time. “You’ll pick him up on Sunday, right?”

Jeongguk blinks, like he hadn’t expected that to be the thing you chose to say. “Oh… yeah, definitely.” he nods. “Around 10’s okay? I was thinking of taking him fishing with the guys.”

“Oh um… yeah, that sounds good.” you nod because you know how much Yejun loved those little outings and how he got to trail behind Jeongguk and his friends, calling them all “uncles” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Just… keep an eye on him, okay? He gets a little too excited near the water.” you say, despite knowing how responsible Jeongguk is when it comes to your son. “I know.” he chuckles, glancing down briefly before looking back at you. “I’ll keep him close, don’t worry.” There’s a small pause after that and this time, it’s not exactly uncomfortable, but not exactly easy either. “Maybe I’ll send you a picture.” he adds after a beat. “If he catches something. Or… even if he doesn’t, honestly.”

You nod, your fingers tightening slightly against your arms. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, the moment dips again into silence before Jeongguk clears his throat lightly. “Right then…” he breathes out, raking his fingers through his hair. “I should probably head out. It’s getting pretty late.”

You purse your lips at that, before forcing yourself to nod and he gives you a lingering look before turning towards the front door.

You don’t usually follow him. Most days, you keep your distance, but tonight… your feet move before you can really think about it and you trail after him slowly, stopping near the entryway as he reaches for his coat. 

He slips it on, adjusting the collar absentmindedly, before turning back to face you. “Tonight…” he starts as you look up to meet his eyes. “It was nice.” he says and you don’t miss the faint smile on his lips as the words leave his mouth. “Haven’t seen Yejun that happy in a while.” he admits and to that you nod, because you’ve been thinking the same thing all evening. “Yeah.” you breathe out. “Me neither.”

Jeongguk inhales slowly, then lets it out before adjusting his coat again. “Anyways… I’ll see you.” he says, turning back towards the door and just when his fingers reach for the doorknob, your lips are already moving. “Text me when you reach.” the words slip out and you freeze almost instantly as they echo back to you.

You haven’t said something like that in a long time, especially not after the divorce since your texts with Jeongguk were limited to co-parenting schedules, school updates and photos of Yejun. 

Jeongguk stills at your words before slowly looking at you over his shoulder. There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes, and then, just as quickly, he reins it in as a small, lopsided smile pulls at his lips. “Alright.” he breathes out letting his gaze linger on you for a few seconds. “Goodnight, Y/N.” he finally says , slowly twisting the door knob, with his head still turned towards you. 

He hesitates before vaguely gesturing towards the living room, where your laptop still glows on the coffee table. “Don’t stay up too late.” he adds and before you can nod, he’s gone.

//

“…and if we look at the high jewelry segment, the average spend per client has increased by nearly 18% this quarter.” Rowoon, your senior brand strategist, explains, as he gestures towards the screen where the slide shifts seamlessly, revealing a spread of numbers layered over charts, alongside close-up visuals of intricate pieces. 

“Particularly within custom diamond sets and rare stone acquisitions, we’re seeing a clear shift towards more exclusive, one-of-a-kind commissions…” he goes on, glancing briefly around the room to ensure everyone’s following.

At the far end of the conference table, you sit with your back straight and fingers lightly pressed against the surface, trying your very best to stay focused but the numbers and the graphs blur before your eyes, no matter how hard you blink them back into place. Your brows knit together faintly as you try to steady your gaze, but it doesn’t help because it’s impossible to ignore the dull heaviness behind your eyes.

You shift slightly in your seat, fingers coming up to tug at the collar of your blouse, like that can somehow ease the discomfort pressing against your skin and you inhale quietly, blinking your eyes again. 

Focus.

“If we maintain this trajectory, our top-tier clientele alone could account for over 40% of total revenue by the end of the year.” Rowoon adds, as he looks across the table at all the department heads, analysts, senior associates and everyone else who all seem to be taking notes, following along.

From her seat positioned diagonally across from yours, Haeun nods along, fingers moving swiftly across her tablet as she keeps up with the ongoing presentation before her eyes absently flicks towards you. She instantly catches the way you’re sitting a little too stiff, desperately trying to focus and her eyes don't miss the subtle sheen of sweat on your temples and along your neck. 

Her fingers still over her screen and her eyes instantly shift towards Rowoon and it’s perfectly timed as he instantly catches the signal and his voice trails off, stopping mid sentence before following Haeun’s line of sight, landing on you.

Haeun leans forward slightly. “Ms. Min.” she calls out, gently drawing your attention to her as everyone around the room looks at you. “Would you prefer that we pause here and reconvene later?”

Her words instantly make you realise just how out of it you've been and you quickly exhale, closing your eyes for a brief second to steady yourself. When you open them again, you’re acutely aware of the silence in the room and the way everyone’s looking at you. 

“No.” you say, shaking your head lightly. “Please continue.” There’s a small pause before you glance towards Haeun again. “I’ll step out for a bit.” you add, more quietly. “Could you share the minutes with me afterward? I’ll review everything once I’m back.”

“Of course.” Haeun nods without hesitation though you can still see the concern in her eyes. “I’ll make sure to send you everything.”

You give a small nod in return before pushing your chair back and Rowoon straightens almost instinctively, offering you a respectful nod as you rise, and one by one, the rest of the room follows suit before you finally step out.

You’ve been feeling like this for the past few days.  

You weren’t entirely sure what to blame it on. Maybe it was the stress from your work with all the endless meetings, agonizing conference calls or that frantic 2-day work trip to Tokyo earlier this week. Or maybe it was just the lack of sleep. The pills hadn’t been kicking in lately and on the rare occasions they actually managed to drag you under, the same nightmares would wake you right up. 

Then there was the food situation, or lack thereof. Half the time you forgot to eat because your schedule was a tyrant and the other half, your stomach decided to skip straight to nausea before hunger could even introduce itself. It had gotten so bad that you’d actually given your cook, Junhee, a paid vacation because it felt entirely too criminal to watch her beautifully prepared meals go completely untouched day after day. You only ever called her back into service when Yejun was staying with you, mostly because you knew your son couldn't survive on black coffee and your nonexistent culinary skills, which usually peaked at burning toast.

Your knees feel wobbly as you make the long trek back to your office, passing a handful of employees who bow respectfully as you walk by. Usually, you’d offer a polite nod, but today, just keeping your spine straight takes every ounce of energy your body has left.

The moment you step inside your office, you shut the door close and practically lunge for the thermostat, cranking the AC down to its absolute lowest setting, desperate for the cool air to shock your system but even as the cool air begins to fill your office, it does nothing to reduce the feverish heat trapped beneath your skin and it almost feels like trying to put out a house fire with a water gun.

With an irritated breath, you tug at your collar again and reach for the claw clip sitting on the edge of your desk. You twist your hair up messily, clipping it back just to get the strands off your neck.

Then you walk towards the deep leather couch on the other end of your office and hastilyslip your heels off, letting them clatter onto the hardwood floor before plopping yourself down and sinking into the cushions as you throw your forearm over your eyes.

A few seconds of absolute silence pass just like that as you lie there, listening to the steady hum of the AC blasting a freezing gale over your body but it doesn't last long when your phone suddenly vibrates making you let out a soft sigh, every fiber of your being wanting to ignore it, but you still find yourself reaching into your pocket and pulling your phone out to check the message you just received. 

[5:24 PM] Jeongguk: Just picked up Jun from daycare.

[5:24 PM] Jeongguk: I know I was supposed to drop him off at your place tonight, but we just got this last minute coffee truck order for a movie set nearby, so I might have to stay back late and help prep everything.  

Just as you finish reading his messages, another one pops up. 

[5:25 PM] Jeongguk: Any chance you could swing by the cafe and pick him up from here instead? He's already asking for you.

//

While Jimin and the rest of the part-timers handle the hectic evening rush at the front of the cafe, Jeongguk stays in the back kitchen, his sleeves rolled up his forearms as he preps a massive batch of brioche dough for the coffee truck order. 

Once the dough is tucked away to rise, he checks on the fresh batch of lemon blueberry scones he had put in the oven earlier. He pulls them out, transfers them on a cooling tray and steps out into the main cafe, sliding the fresh bakes into the glass display case to refill what the afternoon crowd had wiped out.

He stands up straight once he’s done and his eyes naturally wander to the corner table of the crowded cafe where his son is seated, entirely absorbed in his coloring book. Jeongguk smiles, absently wiping his hands on his apron as he walks over to Yejun.

Yejun doesn’t look away from his drawing as Jeongguk slides into the chair beside him, taking a moment to just breathe while the cafe continues to bustle around them. He pulls out his phone to double-check if he missed any important notifications as it had been a little while since you replied with a quick "Be there in 20" to his texts. 

He shoves his phone back into his pocket before affectionately ruffling his son’s hair only to earn a soft grumble from Yejun as the boy swats weakly at his hand before returning to his coloring without much care. Jeongguk huffs out a chuckle before absentmindedly looking towards the large glass storefront just in time to catch your car pulling up smoothly along the curb outside with Mr. Choi seated behind the wheel.

His lips part into a soft smile as he starts to rise from his seat, watching you open the back door to step out. Jeongguk is literally opening his mouth to tell Yejun that his mama is finally here, but just then he sees you stumble on your feet slightly as your hand blindly reaches out to grip the roof of the car for leverage and the words die in his throat. 

He furrows his brows, about to move from his spot and step out of the cafe when suddenly he sees your hand slip from the metal as your knees buckle completely, and you collapse onto the hard sidewalk. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen in sheer terror and for a second, he forgets about everything else as he bolts straight towards the entrance, throwing the heavy glass door open with enough force to rattle the frame.

By the time he hits the pavement, Mr. Choi is also stepping out of the car, his face pale with shock. Jeongguk drops to his knees into the space beside you, sweeping your shoulders off the cold concrete while he cradles your head against his chest.

"Y/n? Hey.” he calls out, tapping your cheek, desperate for even a flutter of your eyelids, but you remain completely unresponsive and a small crowd of concerned pedestrians begins to form on the sidewalk while Mr. Choi hovers over the scene, terrified at the way you barely move. 

“Y/n… hey, Y/n.” Jeongguk tries again, his voice edged with panic as he gently pats your cheek. “Do you hear me?” he asks and only then does it register to him how fragile you feel in his arms. Your body feels far too limp, your lips are nearly colorless and your skin looks so pale. 

"Let… let me call an ambulance.” Mr. Choi fumbles, his fingers slipping against the screen of his phone as he desperately tries to dial.

The commotion draws Jimin outside, letting the part timers take over the cafe for a bit and the second he steps out, his eyes expand in horror as he takes in the sight of you limp in Jeongguk’s arms. "Gguk, holy shit… what… what happened?"

"Hyung, I…I don’t know, she just collapsed." Jeongguk’s voice cracks, but he’s already shifting his weight, carefully hooking one arm beneath your knees to lift you off the ground. 

“I…” he starts, finally looking up at Jimin with pleading eyes. "I’ll take her to the hospital myself, it’ll be faster.” he says quickly glancing towards Mr. Choi who nods. “And hyung…” he breathes out looking back at Jimin. “Can you please just… just watch Yejun? Don't let him see her like this. Just... please, hyung."

Jimin is already nodding at his words. “Absolutely Gguk… Don’t worry about anything here, just get her to the hospital ASAP, okay? I've got Jun."

//

— please drop a like, reblog or comment !! it would make me feel motivated and i would to love to hear your thoughts <3

<-part 1 // part 3 ->

series masterlist

series taglist in reblog !!

//

part 1

The pointed heels of your louboutins click against the polished marble and almost instantly the conversations around the room falter. 

One by one, heads turn in your direction. Some guests watch openly, others more discreetly, but all of them seem to be hoping for the same thing… a glance, a nod, any small acknowledgment that you’ve noticed them. 

But your gaze remains fixed only on the stage ahead, your expression composed with a hint of the faintest smile playing on your lips. The deep ruby shade and the stones embroidered all over the fabric of your dress catches the light with every step you take down the hall. 

The Valerra pop-up store, your largest and most anticipated showcase to date, was in full swing. 

Every detail had been curated to perfection, not just to display jewelry, but to immerse every guest into the world you’d built and tonight, the world was drenched entirely in ruby.

Tall glass display cases stand in clean, symmetrical lines, stretching across the room with each case illuminated from within, casting a soft glow that contrasts beautifully against the deep red hues surrounding it.

The jewelry inside looks less like products and more like pieces of art.

Diamond necklaces rest against velvet cushions in rich crimson tones, each stone catching the light in subtle flashes that seem to follow you as you pass by, rings arranged neatly, spaced just enough to give each one its own presence and bracelets curved over sculpted stands draped in red silk, their polished surfaces gleaming under the lights as they reflect soft ripples of gold and silver across the glass.

Above it all, grand chandeliers hang low with their crystals refracting warm light while cascading red drapes frame the venue, flowing effortlessly from the ceiling like liquid silk as fresh roses in deep scarlet arrangements adorn every corner with other pieces of luxury decor you had picked out yourself. 

To your left, a string quartet plays, the soft music weaving seamlessly into the low hum of conversations and the occasional clink of champagne glasses. Waiters move through the crowd with silver trays balanced in their hands as they offer crystal flutes of champagne and curated hors d’oeuvres.

Haeun, your assistant, follows just a step behind you. Close enough to intervene if necessary, yet distant enough to remain invisible to everyone else. Her expression stays perfectly composed, but her sharp eyes miss nothing. 

She tracks the movement of the staff, the positioning of the guests, the subtle hesitation of a waiter who lingers a second too long before approaching a group. She mentally notes which influencers and celebrities have arrived and which haven’t, who was already capturing photos, who needed to be guided closer to the main display for better visibility. 

Nothing slipped past her… nothing ever did.

As you move deeper into the space, the lighting subtly shifts, guiding attention towards the center of the room where the stage stands waiting. It wasn’t extravagant, but it didn’t exactly need to be. Sleek metallic panels framed the backdrop, catching the warm ruby tones of the venue and reflecting them in a way that elevated everything else just the way you wanted it to. At the very center, partially concealed beneath a deep red velvet cloth, was the highlight of the night. 

Your new collection, hidden just enough to build anticipation, to make people wait, to make them want.

The announcer stands poised on the stage, dressed in a custom-made, shimmering gown designed by your dear friend Kim Taehyung, created exclusively to align with the vision you had carried for this evening in your head for months.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” Her voice cuts cleanly through the room, drawing attention back to the stage. “Please join me in welcoming the visionary behind tonight’s showcase.”

Guests gathered near the stage instinctively step aside as you approach, creating a clear path without needing to be asked.

“The mind behind the brand… the force redefining modern luxury…”

Your heels meet the first step leading up to the stage and behind you, Haeun comes to a halt because she knew this moment wasn’t hers to manage. It was all yours.

“Please welcome her…” The announcer’s voice lifts as you fully step onto the stage, and just like that, every eye in the room finds you. “Please welcome the founder, creative director and CEO of Valerra… Min Y/n !!!!” she cheers as a loud applause breaks out, filling the space and rising in waves while cameras start flashing.

Now that you were finally standing in front of the entire crowd, you let your smile widen just a fraction as your eyes sweep across the room. Rows of familiar faces, strangers, admirers, people who had followed your work, invested in your name, believed in your vision. They were all here, exactly where they were supposed to be.

And still, you let your gaze linger, just for a second longer than it should have.

Because even though you knew better, even though you had told yourself a hundred times before walking in that he obviously wouldn’t be here, a part of you still searched because… as stupid as it may sound, it was almost instinct, as if somewhere in the crowd, you might catch a glimpse of the one pair of eyes that used to always find you.

You don’t find them… of course you don’t but you look anyway, because sometimes, that’s all you can do.

The applause swells around you while the cameras continue to flash as people lean forward, completely captivated by you, by what you’ve built, by everything you represent in this very moment.

And you stand there, at the center of it all.

Valerra, your life’s work, your relentless pursuit, the very proof that every sacrifice had meant something, had brought you exactly where you were meant to be and this… this was everything you had ever wanted.

And yet, at this point, somehow… it felt like nothing, because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the gnawing emptiness in your chest because he wasn’t here tonight. 

Eventually, the rest of the evening slips past you in a blur.

The unveiling of the new collection became the turning point of the night, as expected. The velvet drape was drawn back slowly, revealing pieces that had only lived in your mind for months before they ever took form. It was everything you had envisioned, and it was being received exactly the way you had hoped.

After that, the night became a sequence of expectations you knew by heart. Conversations, introductions, familiar faces approaching with admiration tucked neatly into rehearsed compliments. Cameras flashed as you posed beside your pieces, beside guests, beside people who wanted to be seen next to you just as much as they wanted to be seen by you. 

You smiled when needed, spoke when required, listened just enough and somehow despite being at the center of it all, it all felt slightly… distant.

When you’re finally left by yourself for a very brief second, you let out a quiet exhale to yourself as your gaze briefly drifts across the room. At a distance, Haeun stands exactly where she needs to be, looking as composed as ever. Her attention never wavers, her focus split between the room in front of her and the updates filtering through her earpiece every now and then.

Everything was under control… Everything always was.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the woman of the hour herself.” A familiar voice suddenly cuts through your thoughts as you instantly turn over your shoulder, and for the first time this evening, you allow yourself a genuine smile. “Tae.” you acknowledge as he inches closer and without hesitation, pulls you into a brief hug. “Look at you…” he chuckles, pulling back as his hands rest lightly on your arms. “I wonder who made you that dress to make you look this stunning.” he grins. 

You let out a small chuckle, tilting your head as you glance down at the gown, your fingers brushing lightly over the rich ruby fabric that hugs your frame perfectly. “I’m glad I went with this…” you admit. “I can’t believe I was actually second-guessing it.” you say looking back up at him. 

“Yeah imagine second guessing me.” he scoffs lightly, feigning offense as he straightens just a little. “That’s bold. Very very bold, Min Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave your face. “I had a vision in my head…” you counter, crossing your arms loosely. “I just… wasn’t sure if this would match it… Like you know how particular I get when it comes to these things…”

Taehyung chuckles at that, shaking his head.“When have I ever not understood your vision?” he cocks up a brow. “I get what you want before you even fully figure it out yourself. Come on, you should know this by now.” 

You giggle softly, playfully rolling your eyes again.

“Anyways…” he breathes out, stepping away just enough to stand beside you now, shoulder to shoulder as both of you face the room. His gaze drifts across the venue, taking in the way people admire what you’ve created. “Looks like this pop-up was a massive success. Everyone seems to love the new collection.”

You hum softly in agreement, nodding with a small smile and somehow Taehyung is quick to notice the way it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly, his eyes fixed on the side profile of your face. You let out a quiet sigh, shaking your head almost instinctively. “It’s nothing… I guess I’m just… exhausted. You know how stressed I was about this.” you explain as you keep your gaze fixed ahead.

Your words don’t even convince yourself and you know damn well that it definitely doesn’t convince the man beside you either. Taehyung presses his lips together slightly, studying you for a brief second before slipping his hands into his pockets. He turns his gaze back to the room, almost mirroring your stance.

A few seconds pass, just enough for the noise of the room to settle between you before he speaks again. “First pop-up store event without him, huh?”

You swallow at his words, like there’s something caught in your throat that refuses to go down and you’re quick to steady the faintest tremble in your lower lip, but you don’t dare turn to look at him. “Yeah.” you breathe out.

“How’s everything been? How… have you been?” he asks gently, after a moment and there’s a pause, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And… how’s Yejun?” he adds, even softer this time.

Your lips tremble again, more noticeable now, and for a brief second you close your eyes, gathering yourself before anything slips through. “Yejun’s fine.” you answer quietly. “He’s… he’s spending the weekend with me.”

It’s a safe answer… a contained one but Taehyung isn’t oblivious to the way you sidestep the rest of his questions, the way your voice only finds certainty when it comes to your son… but he doesn’t push and just like that, a few minutes pass before you’re approached again, this time by a cluster of familiar faces who easily slip into conversation, not just with you but Taehyung as well.

After all, Taehyung wasn’t just anyone. He carried a presence entirely of his own, a name and reputation that stood just as strong as yours. He wasn’t simply accompanying you… he belonged in rooms like this, especially as one of the most influential figures in the fashion world. 

You straighten slightly, your expression falling back into that polished composure as you greet the group, exchanging pleasantries and eventually, the group disperses, replaced by others, then others again, until time almost begins to blur. 

By the time another hour passes, the initial excitement around the venue has somewhat settled. The room is still alive, still buzzing, but your role in it has already been fulfilled.

You turn slightly, your gaze landing on Haeun across the room and she notices immediately, as she always does, quickly making her way over without needing to be called. 

“I think I’ll call it a night.” you say quietly once she’s in front of you. Her brows lift ever so slightly, though she doesn’t question it because she understands. You’ve done everything you needed to do. You showed up, made your presence known, unveiled the new collection, entertained the right people and well… the rest can carry on without you.

“Make sure everything wraps up neatly.” you add. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yes, of course.” she nods, already mentally running through what needs to be handled. You turn to leave, but her voice stops you gently. “Do you want me to call Mr. Choi?” she glances at you, referring to your driver who’s always prepared, always waiting just a call away.

You shake your head lightly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll drive myself tonight.” you assure her. “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch the champagne.” you chuckle and a small smile appears on her lips. “Alright.” she nods, stepping back slightly. “Please get home safely.”

You give her a brief nod in return before she bows her head respectfully, already shifting back into her role as she turns away to oversee the rest of the evening.

And just like that, you step out of the venue, making your way to the private parking and the moment you slip inside your car, you just sit there for a brief second… breathing, like you’re letting the weight of the night catch up to you.

As a few seconds pass, you slowly reach for your phone. The lockscreen lights up in the dim interior as the time reads 9:54 p.m but you barely register it because your eyes are already fixed on the picture, like always. 

Yejun’s small, mischievous smile fills the screen, specks of paint smeared across his nose and cheeks. 

The memory comes back so vividly it almost feels like you’re standing in it again. He was barely 3, freshly introduced to the concept of finger painting at play school. Of course, his fingers seemed to have completely misunderstood the assignment because the paint ended up everywhere… his face, his clothes, somehow even the walls… everywhere except the paper but none of that mattered… not when he was having the time of his life.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips at the memory, and only then do you unlock your phone, scrolling briefly, checking if you’ve missed anything important only to come across a few messages, nothing urgent, nothing that needs you right now at least.

Once you set your phone back down, you close your eyes again, just for a moment. For reasons you don’t quite want to admit, the thought of going back to your apartment doesn’t appeal much to you right now. 

Yes, you left the event early because you wanted to call it a night, but this isn’t the kind of quiet you were looking for… not the kind that waits behind the doors of your empty penthouse.

You don’t want to walk into that kind of stillness, into a home that feels far too big for just one person, where even the quietest sound seems to echo back at you, where memories of the life you once lived, linger like ghosts in every corner. 

And yet, as much as you dread it, you don’t quite have it in you to go anywhere else either. It’s a strange, exhausting contradiction… wanting to be alone, even when you hate the loneliness that comes with it… wanting silence, but not the kind that reminds you of everything that’s missing. 

It doesn’t make sense, but then again, when have you ever been simple enough for it to? So you don’t try to untangle it, you simply just sit with it and then, quietly, you give in as you start the car and without thinking too much about it, you begin driving towards your penthouse, towards a space that’s yours, even if it doesn’t quite feel like it anymore.

//

Jimin reaches up and flips the sign on the glass door from “open” to “close” before turning around to face the now quiet cafe. The late evening rush has long passed, a few chairs sit slightly out of place, crumbs scattered here and there, the faint smell of coffee and baked goods still hanging in the air. 

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, taking in the sight of the part-timers near the counter as they move quickly, wiping down surfaces and stacking up trays, plates and cups. 

His gaze drifts lazily before his eyes land on a small figure hunched over one of the tables by the window on the other side of the cafe and his expression softens instantly, his exhaustion melting into something far more fond as he makes his way over. 

“What’ve you got there, buddy?” he chuckles, gently ruffling the little boy’s hair before pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

Up close, he watches the way Yejun’s tiny fingers grip a red crayon with serious determination, his whole body leaning into the table as he scribbles quickly across the paper. 

“My dream car.” Yejun replies immediately, not even bothering to look up. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, lips slightly parted as he continues dragging the crayon across the sheet of paper.

As Jimin continues to watch the little boy with an adoring smile, he can’t help but notice for the millionth time just how much this baby resembles his father. 

The look Yejun’s got right now reminds Jimin of Jeongguk behind the counter, carefully piping cream onto one of his pastries, usually the strawberry cream choux which is somewhat considered a best seller at their cafe. 

He chuckles to himself as he continues observing Yejun. It’s the same slight furrow in his brows, the same almost stubborn need to get it just right, the same look. 

Just smaller.

“It’s super fast.” Yejun adds suddenly, still focused on his drawing. “Faster than Daddy’s car. And it can fly too… so traffic can’t catch it.”

Jimin lets out a giggle, resting his chin in his hand as he brings his focus to the drawing. The wheels are far too big, the windows are scattered wherever Yejun thinks they belong and somehow, it really does look like it might take off any second.

“Looks pretty cool.” Jimin murmurs, his smile growing just a little fonder and Yejun hums proudly at that, finally glancing up for a split second. “Daddy can sit here.” he says, pointing at a random spot on the paper. “And I’ll drive.”

At that, Jimin raises a brow with a playful pout forming on his lips. “And what about Uncle Chim, huh?” he asks, tapping the table lightly. “No seat for me?”

Yejun pauses, looking back down at his drawing like this is a very serious problem. He squints at the paper, then quickly scribbles another tiny circle somewhere near the edge of the supposed car. “You can sit here.” he decides, nodding firmly. “But you have to be quiet. No talking because I need to focus on driving.”

Jimin lets out a soft, offended gasp before breaking into a grin. “Wow. Not only are you kicking me off to the side, but you’re also silencing me?? I see how it is.” he narrows his eyes but all Yejun does is give him a shy snicker before going back to his drawing. 

Jimin’s smile lingers as he watches the little boy for another moment before his gaze flickers towards the counter. “Where’s your dad?” he asks, brows knitting slightly. Yejun barely hears him, far too invested in perfecting his dream car and Jimin doesn’t really expect an answer anyway. He pats the boy’s head once more before pushing himself up from the chair.

He walks around the counter, past the part timers and pushes through the door into the back kitchen. The low hum of the refrigerator instantly replaces the sounds coming from the cafe and it doesn’t take Jimin long to find who he’s looking for.

Perched on a stool beside one of the steel prep counters with his back turned to Jimin, sits the co-owner of the cafe. From the way he hasn’t even noticed Jimin walking in, it’s obvious he’s far too absorbed in whatever he’s watching on his phone.

Jimin pauses for a second, watching him before he slowly inches closer, his footsteps barely making a sound against the tiled floor. Once he’s right behind him, he slightly leans over, narrowing his eyes to catch a glimpse of the screen over his partner’s shoulder.

“Still keeping tabs on the ex-wife, I see.” he grins. 

A sharp gasp escapes Jeongguk as he instinctively slams his phone against his chest as if that would somehow hide it and whips his head around to face Jimin with wide eyes and a scandalized expression. “What the hell, Hyung!” he breathes out, still trying to steady himself, his grip tightening instinctively around his phone like he’s been caught red-handed.

“Hey, hey… I’m not judging.” Jimin chuckles, lifting both his hands up in mock surrender, though the amusement in his eyes gives him away completely. “It’s the first time you’re not with her at one of those pop-up events. I don’t blame you for feeling like you missed out.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at that, the reaction coming a little too quickly, a little too defensive. He turns away, switching his phone off before dropping it onto the prep counter beside him. “I’m not feeling…. missed out or anything. ” he mutters. “It just… I don’t know… showed up on my feed.” 

The excuse sounds flat even to his own ears, because of course, it didn’t just show up. Especially not with the way his very own fingers had typed out the keywords “Kim Y/n. Valerra pop-up store.” in the search bar almost out of habit… a habit that hadn’t left him. 

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew that within seconds of typing those words into the search bar, his screen would be filled with nothing but you. Fragments of the night from a hundred different angles, paparazzi clips catching you mid-step, influencers zooming in on your dress, celebrities posting glimpses of the event along with pictures where they’re all posing with you. 

Anything that would let him catch even the smallest glimpse of you.

And he had watched it all… more than once, more than he should have. Long enough for the details to settle into him in ways he couldn’t shake off like the dress that hugged you perfectly, the way you carried yourself, the way you smiled at people who weren’t him.

And truthfully, it shouldn’t have mattered, not after all this time… not after six months, to be precise.

But unfortunately for Jeongguk, it did.

Jimin watches him quietly, reading him far too easily. He knows exactly where Jeongguk’s mind has gone, what he’s been sitting with, what he’s trying to brush off like it doesn’t weigh on him but he doesn’t call him out on it. He knows it isn’t necessary because sometimes… some things don’t need to be said out loud to be understood.

All he can really do is sympathize and maybe soften it a little with just some light hearted teasing here and there. 

“Fine…” Jeongguk exhales. “I searched it up, okay? I was just… curious. It’s the first pop-up thing she’s doing without me and I don’t know… I just…” He pauses, briefly running a hand through his hair. “I was curious, I guess. Just wanted to see how things were going.” He shrugs, like it’s something small, something insignificant.

But Jimin doesn’t miss the slight tremble in his voice and the way the words don’t come out as steady as he wants them to. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Gguk.” he says softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Anyways… did you book your flight to Jeju?” Jimin asks, arms folding loosely over his chest as he leans back, clearly attempting to steer the conversation somewhere else. However, it doesn’t work… if anything, the question only makes Jeongguk sigh louder. “Yeah.” he still answers. “I did… Last night.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker over his face almost immediately, not missing the loud sigh and the way his jaw tightens. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly, though he might already have a rough idea. “I don’t even wanna go.” Jeongguk admits with a bitter laugh as his gaze drops to the floor for a second. “I think the last place I should be in right now is someone else’s wedding… when my own marriage didn’t even survive.” 

Jimin exhales, an awkward chuckle slipping out as he shakes his head. “Gguk… you’re literally Hobi hyung’s best man.”

“Yeah, and she’s Bomi’s maid of honor !!” Jeongguk snaps back almost instantly, his head lifting to meet Jimin’s eyes as the frustration finally shows in full. “And we have to walk down the aisle together…” he continues, dragging a hand harshly down his face before letting out a short, incredulous laugh and shaking his head because this entire situation is just sooo fucking ridiculous. “Like actually walk down the aisle…” he repeats, slower this time. “Side by side…. in front of everyone.” His lips press into a thin line before he scoffs quietly. “Like yeah, sure, There’s nothing weird about that at all. Just me and my ex-wife, playing happy for someone else’s wedding like our own didn’t completely fall apart.”

Jimin presses his lips together as he takes that in and for a second, he doesn’t say anything, because yeah… there’s no good way to spin that.

“I get it.” Jimin says finally. “But you’re Hoseok’s best friend and she’s Bomi’s.” he states. “You both agreed to this like 3 months before the divorce…” he shrugs lightly, though there’s sympathy in his eyes. “No one saw this coming, man.” 

Jeongguk exhales quietly, his gaze shifting away again because none of this is new information to him. He already knows all of it, has gone over it in his head more times than he can count, but knowing does nothing to make it any easier. 

Because just the thought of attending a wedding right now, just being there as a guest, is enough to make him feel like throwing up. 

The idea of standing there and watching two people promise each other forever, smile for pictures, raise glasses to love and commitment… it all feels unbearably suffocating when he knows, all too well, how fragile that “promised forever” actually is. He has stood in that exact place before, made those exact promises, believed in them with everything he had and yet somehow, it still hadn’t been enough.

And the worst part is, he doesn’t even have the luxury of fading into the background for this particular wedding. He can’t sit this one out with some half-hearted excuse about being busy or unwell because he isn’t just another face in the crowd… he’s literally the groom’s best man. 

He has a role to play, a place to stand, words to say, a smile to wear whether he feels like it or not.

Often times, when you’re in a long term relationship with someone, your circles overlap, your worlds intertwine until it’s impossible to separate one from the other. Friends become mutual, memories become shared and suddenly, even after everything ends, you’re still tied together in places you didn’t even think would blow up right in your face after everything’s over. 

Hoseok had been one of Jeongguk’s closest friends since college, the kind of friend who had stayed constant through years of growing up, through some very questionable decisions, through endless late-night conversations and through every version of Jeongguk that existed before he became the man he is now.

Naturally, when Jeongguk started dating you, Hoseok met you too, and somewhere along the way, that connection extended to Bomi, your best friend at a small, casual gathering. It was just one of those in those in-between moments, passing interactions where they were just… there. 

At first, they hadn’t paid much attention to each other beyond polite conversations but somehow, in the middle of the constant overlaps, something had suddenly clicked between them that it almost felt inevitable and by the time your wedding came around, everything had already begun to change, though no one had fully caught onto it yet. 

Jeongguk’s best man, Hoseok and your maid of honor, Bomi were secretly hooking up. 

No one really noticed… not you, not Jeongguk, not the rest of your shared friends until months later, they just randomly announced they were official. 

Jeongguk vividly remembers watching it all happen in real time. You had both been genuinely happy for them because there had been something very special about watching two people you cared about fall into something so natural, something that felt almost meant to be. 

And most of all, it had felt nice, in a strange way, knowing that the two of you had played some small, accidental part in bringing them together.

Back then, Jeongguk had adored them. He had rooted for them without hesitation, teased Hoseok about how whipped he was for this girl and would constantly pester him about when he was going to propose and genuinely looked forward to the day they would finally tie the knot… but now, everything feels different.

Because now, with the roles sort of reversed, with time having shifted things in ways he never saw coming, it’s impossible not to notice the irony of it all. Unlike Hoseok, Jeongguk has a lot of history with the maid of honor of this wedding. 

He feels pathetic for it, truly. It’s his best friend’s wedding in less than 2 months, something that should feel like a celebration, something he should be wholeheartedly happy about but instead, it feels like his heart is still stuck 6 months in the past, still drowning in something it hasn’t quite managed to climb out of. 

The joy he knows he should feel is there somewhere, buried under layers and layers of heartache and it just feels impossible to reach it fully.

Still, he knows none of this is about him.

Hoseok and Bomi don’t deserve to have their special day ruined because of this. They’ve spent months planning this wedding and they had absolutely no idea things would turn out this way when they asked Jeongguk to be the best man and you, the maid of honor. 

So realistically speaking, there’s really no option of bailing out now because that would just be a total dick move on Jeongguk’s part and the last thing Hoseok and Bomi deserve is for their happy day to be tainted by the bitterness of the best man who couldn’t hold onto his own forever.

Jeongguk lets out a quiet sigh again, his shoulders dropping just slightly. He nods once, more to himself than anything, like he’s trying to gather whatever composure he has left. “Anyways… I should head home soon.” he mutters, glancing down at the time on his watch. “Need to get Yejun to bed… cause I have to drop him off early in the morning… at… you know…” his voice trails off and Jimin nods immediately, understanding without needing anything more.

“Go ahead.” he says, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ll wrap things up here.”

Jeongguk hums in acknowledgment, pushing himself up from the stool as he reaches behind to untie his apron. He folds it absentmindedly and sets it aside before grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. Then he heads towards the small staff area tucked at the far end of the back kitchen, the one they used to change and keep their belongings. It’s a simple space with a row of lockers, a narrow bench and a mirror that’s seen better days.

He moves quickly, shrugging into his coat as his fingers work through the buttons. For a second, he pauses, glancing at his reflection. It doesn’t linger long, it never does these days. Then he turns and heads out. 

The moment he steps back into the cafe, his eyes find Yejun almost instantly who’s still seated at the same table he left him at, still completely absorbed in his little sketch and a soft smile takes over his lips before he can even think about it. “Hey, champ.” he calls gently, making his way over. “Ready to head home?”

Yejun looks up at the sound of his father’s voice, his entire face lighting up in an instant. The crayon drops from his hand without a second thought as he nods eagerly with a wide grin stretching across his face. Jeongguk lets out a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle his hair before crouching down to help him gather his things. “Okay, okay, let’s go.” Jeongguk murmurs, before slipping his arms around the boy and lifting him up, settling him comfortably against his side.

Yejun immediately wraps his small arms around Jeongguk’s neck. “Okay Jun, say bye to everyone.” Jeongguk says softly, turning slightly so they’re both facing the counter and Yejun doesn’t need to be told twice.

He waves enthusiastically at the part-timers, his tiny hand moving back and forth with far too much energy for such a small gesture. Then, as if that isn’t enough, he starts blowing exaggerated flying kisses across the cafe, making loud little mwah sounds with each one.

The staff burst into soft laughter, a few of them waving back while others pretend to catch his kisses mid-air. “Ahhhh we’re getting so many today.” Chaewon, one of the part-timers, teases while Jimin, who’s leaning against the back kitchen’s door, crosses his arms with a grin. “Save some for tomorrow, kid.” he calls out.

But Yejun only doubles down, throwing even more kisses, leaning forward dramatically in Jeongguk’s arms as if it’s a full performance. Jeongguk can’t help but laugh softly as he gently steadies his son. “Alright, alright, that’s enough.” he murmurs, though there’s no real strictness in his tone.

After one last, very serious final kiss, Yejun finally settles down like he’s satisfied and Jeongguk finally gives everyone a small nod before walking out of the cafe. Once they make it to the car, Jeongguk opens the back door and carefully helps Yejun into his little car seat. He makes sure the straps sit right, not too tight, not too loose as he adjusts them. 

He closes the door softly before walking around to the driver’s side and sliding in. When the engine hums to life, almost immediately, Yejun’s voice fills the car.

He’s already talking… something about his school friend Haru, about a toy they fought over, about how he won because he was faster. The words tumble out of him in a rush as he moves his hands and shakes his legs animatedly and Jeongguk listens.

He always listens.

Even when he’s tired, even when his mind is somewhere else, he hums at the right moments, nods slightly, glances at him through the mirror, making sure Yejun knows he’s being heard.

When they stop at a signal, the car finally falls into a brief silence and Jeongguk finds himself looking up at Yejun through the rearview mirror again. “You excited to spend the weekend at your mom’s, champ?” he asks softly and he quickly catches the way Yejun’s face lights up instantly as he nods eagerly. “Mama told me she’s taking me somewhere special this weekend!” he chirps, his voice bubbling with excitement as a small giggle escapes him.

“Oh really?” Jeongguk smiles. “Where’s she taking you?” The question comes out easily, but for some reason it instantly leaves a sick bitter taste on his tongue. 

Because he hates this… not the question itself, but what it means.

He hates that he has to ask his own son about you like this. Like you’re just… someone else in his life… like you’re simply “Yejun’s mom” and not the woman who used to be his entire world. 

His wife. 

The person he shared everything with, now reduced to vague updates passed through a 4 year old.

He hates the way this has become normal. The routines of it… packing bags, dropping Yejun off, picking him up again. Weekends split, days divided, time measured in schedules and arrangements instead of something whole.

But even as he hates it, even as that bitter taste on his tongue begins to settle into something that almost feels like poison, even as he can feel his heart splintering beneath it all, at this very moment he keeps his smile intact.

For Yejun.

Because what could a 4 year old possibly do about any of this?

“I don’t know actually…” Yejun admits after a moment. Jeongguk glances at the mirror again before the light turns green, watching the way his son’s brows pinch slightly as he thinks. “She just said it was a special place.” he adds, like that alone is enough to make it exciting.

“Well, I hope you have lots of fun, buddy.” Jeongguk says softly with a smile as he takes a left turn. “So… what do you want Daddy to make for dinner?” he asks, casually changing the topic. 

Yejun hums immediately, like this is a very serious decision that requires proper consideration. His tiny fingers come up to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully and Jeongguk watches him for a second, his smile never leaving his lips. 

“A bulgogi rice bowl!!” Yejun suddenly announces after a few seconds, his face lighting up as if he’s just made the best decision in the world which makes Jeongguk let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Of course.” he murmurs.

God… Yejun was just like his mother. 

Of course the two of you would share the same comfort food… the same favorite dish.

Jeongguk can’t help but think the reason behind this traces back to before Yejun was even born, back to when you were pregnant. 

When everyone kept warning him about odd cravings that would make no sense, about late night demands and sudden aversions, he had prepared himself for all of it. But you had been… different.

You didn’t ask for anything strange, didn’t send him out at odd hours or complain about wanting something he couldn’t find immediately. 

You just kept coming back to one thing. Bulgogi rice bowls… and not just any bulgogi rice bowls, but specifically the ones he used to make. 

Morning, afternoon, late at night when you couldn’t sleep… you would lean against the kitchen counter with your arms crossed or your palm cradling your belly, watching him cook and waiting like it was the only thing that could settle you and he would make it every single time without any hesitation, adjusting the flavors just slightly depending on what you felt like that day, making sure it was perfect before placing it in front of you.

And God… he had loved everything about it. Loved taking care of you like that, loved how something so simple could make you happy, loved how, for those small moments, everything felt right.

Now, as he drives with the memory swirling in his brain, his mind inevitably drifts back to you, like it always does and for some reason, tonight he thinks about the very first time he saw you.

He remembers it like it was yesterday. 

>>

9 years ago

Jeongguk keeps his eyes focused on the latte art forming beneath his hands. The thin stream of milk slowly slips into the espresso, blooming into a soft rosette that he’s made a hundred times before and maybe that’s why his wrist seems to have a mind of its own. 

Around him, the faint hum of the cafe envelopes him…low conversations overlap in soft murmurs and cups clink gently against saucers. Beside him, Jimin pulls a tray of freshly baked blueberry muffins from the oven while a part-timer carefully plates a slice of tiramisu, dusting the top with cocoa for a waiting customer.

Just then, the bell above the door rings, indicating the arrival of a new customer and almost without thinking, Jeongguk looks up like he always does. 

And in that exact moment, everything in him stills. He doesn’t know how it happens or why it happens but he swears the way his chest tightens, the way his breath stops and the way his heart seems to have forgotten its rhythm is nowhere near normal. 

The latte in his hand is long forgotten as his wrist, that apparently had a mind of its own, stops moving, letting the thin stream of milk continue to pour into the espresso, distorting the rosette as it dissolves into something totally unrecognizable but he doesn’t even notice as he just stands there.

He’s heard people talk about it before.

Love at first sight.

He never believed in it because frankly, it never made sense to him. He always thought it was something silly, something people dressed up in pretty words because it sounded romantic enough to believe in because if we’re actually being logical, how could you feel something so intense… so certain, without time, without knowing, without anything to hold onto except a single moment? 

The first sight. 

But right now, as Jeongguk’s eyes stay fixed on the woman dressed in a fitted blouse that’s tucked neatly into a pencil skirt that falls just above her knees, with her hair flowing freely behind her, with a presence and beauty so impossibly hard to ignore, he wonders if what he’s feeling in his chest right now is anything close to love. 

As you step further into the cafe, he feels himself gulp and before the part-timer beside him can step forward to take your order at the counter, Jeongguk moves, blocking the part-timer. 

Jimin notices the sudden movement and his brows lift slightly as he glances at the other staff, but no one says anything as Jeongguk steps up to the counter just as you reach it. 

“Hi.” you say softly as your gaze lifts to the huge menu boards hanging behind him as you scan the options. 

Up close, it’s worse. Or maybe better. Jeongguk can’t really tell.

There’s something about the way the light falls across your face, the way a few loose strands of your hair shift slightly under the cool breeze of the air conditioner, the way your expression changes so subtly as you try to figure out what you want. 

“Can I get a vanilla latte… and…” you pause mid-sentence, taking a small step to the side as your gaze shifts towards the glass display case beside the counter, where rows of pastries and other desserts sit neatly arranged. You lean in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you scan through your options. “Oh and one of those chocolate ganache tarts?” you smile, gesturing lightly towards it as your finger hovers just enough to point it out without touching the glass.

Jeongguk just stands there, looking at you like a fool because if he’s being honest, he didn’t hear a thing you just said. All he can do is just focus on the way your lips move, the shape of your words forming in slow motion and the quiet cadence of your voice reaching him like it’s coming from somewhere just out of reach.

“Excuse me?” you tilt your head at the lack of response from the man behind the counter, a faint crease forming between your brows and that’s what breaks the trance Jeongguk is so stupidly stuck in.

He blinks, snapping himself back into reality as he inhales sharply. “I… I’m sorry.” he stumbles, as he quickly looks down at the register, fingers hovering uncertainly over the keys. “Could you… could you please repeat that?”

He swallows as he hears your order again and forces his attention back to where it should be. But even then, even as he types in your order and tells you to wait by one of the tables for a waiter to come serve you, he can still feel it.

That feeling in his chest.

As Jeongguk watches you make your way towards one of the tables by the window, he barely registers the world around him. A second later, he feels Jimin nudge his shoulder. He turns just slightly, catching the way Jimin is already grinning at him and wiggling his brows in that all-too-knowing way. 

Jeongguk clicks his tongue under his breath, brushing him off without a word, but it does nothing to stop the way his attention drifts right back to you.

The cafe continues moving as it always does and Jeongguk forces himself to fall back into rhythm. His hands move on their own, wiping the counter, adjusting cups, finishing orders… but his eyes… god his eyes keep finding you. 

Again and again.

And despite the effortless beauty you carry, there’s something else that holds his attention even more. You seem… nervous.

It’s subtle, but not enough to miss if someone’s really looking. Your fingers fidget against the edge of the table, tapping lightly before stilling, only to start again moments later. You close your eyes briefly, inhaling as if you’re steadying yourself then nod faintly, like you’re repeating something in your head, like you’re reassuring yourself, like you’re bracing yourself for something.

And Jeongguk really doesn’t want to seem like a creep, though his actions are quite frankly saying something else entirely as his gaze lingers a second longer than it should and for reasons he can’t quite explain, he feels something squeezing in his chest.

Are you waiting for someone? A date, maybe? A blind date, perhaps? It would make sense to be honest… the nervousness, the way you keep glancing towards the door without fully turning your head, the way your posture shifts every few seconds like you can’t quite settle.

And for some reason, he doesn’t like the thought. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t question it either, but it sits there even though he knows he doesn’t have the right to feel this way.

A few minutes pass.

One of the waiters brings your order over, as you thank him softly, but even then, you don’t seem fully present. Your lips move faintly, almost like you’re talking to yourself, rehearsing something under your breath. Your fingers trace absent patterns against the table as you shift in your seat, your nerves refusing to settle.

Jeongguk watches all of it, without meaning to and god only knows how badly he wants to approach you and ask if you’re okay. 

Just then, the cafe door opens again as the usual bell chimes softly but this time, he doesn’t look away from you.

And that’s when he sees two men, dressed sharply in tailored suits approach your table and the moment you notice them, something in you changes and Jeongguk seems to notice it almost immediately. 

You’re on your feet with your hesitation gone, replaced by something far more… confident. You smooth your posture as you extend your hand towards them with a smile.

Once the men accept your handshake with equally polite smiles, they take their seats and Jeongguk finds himself moving before he can think too much about it. He grabs his notepad and walks over, telling himself it’s just part of the job. After all, someone needs to take their orders, right? 

He glances at you briefly before smiling at the men. They quickly state their orders and Jeongguk seems to take his own sweet time with it, his handwriting slower than usual, stretching the moment just enough.

And that’s when he hears you.

“I’m very glad we could finally arrange this.” you say, your gaze fixed on the men ahead. “Thank you both for taking the time to meet with me today.”

Jeongguk pauses, just for a fraction of a second even though he knows he shouldn’t linger, knows he has no reason to stand there any longer than necessary, knows he needs to return back to the counter now, especially if he doesn’t wanna be seen as some creep who’s eavesdropping on his customers but he just can’t help but notice how right now, you don’t seem nervous at all, not even a little. 

The hesitation he had been witnessing just minutes ago is gone and there’s confidence in the way you speak now and… it’s different.

And as he forces himself to tear his gaze away, finally stepping back towards the counter, he realises he wants to see more of you. Not just the version of you that sits poised and confident across that table, not just the one who fidgets with her fingers when she thinks no one is looking, not just the one who closes her eyes for a second too long just to steady herself… he wants to see all of it.

Every side. Every face. Everything in between.

He wants to understand you in a way that goes beyond this fleeting moment, beyond stolen glances and fragments of a conversation that has nothing to do with him. He wants to know what drives you, what steadies you, what makes your voice soften, what makes you laugh, what makes you smile. 

And god, if you would just let him… if you would just give him the smallest chance, he knows, with certainty, that he would do anything to be allowed into that world of yours.

Eventually, he tries to immerse himself back into work. He moves through the cafe, slipping into his routine. He carries trays from table to table, refilling cups before they’re empty, he steps back into the kitchen to check on a fresh batch of donuts, he wipes down counters that are already spotless, aligns stacks of cups that don’t need straightening, adjusts cutlery that no one had disturbed.

Anything to keep his hands occupied, anything to keep his eyes from drifting.

But it doesn’t work, because no matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing, his attention keeps slipping back to you.

Every time he passes your table, he catches fragments of your voice and snippets of your ongoing conversation with the two men. 

“…long-term scalability…”