They didn’t talk after their last encounter until Chaerin texted him to let him know about her doctor’s appointment. Chaerin decided to set the appointment at a clinic near the bar. Sure, it would’ve been much easier for her to set her appointment at the hospital where she interned, but that meant she’d have to announce her pregnancy to all of her coworkers which was something she just wasn’t ready for. Not to mention, the news would definitely travel back to her parents, something she certainly wasn’t ready to deal with.

‘Come if you’re interested’ was all she told him. Honestly speaking, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come or not. It’d be great if he did, right? It’d show that he really was going to be in this with her, but she knew having him there would just be awkward. After all, she didn’t know a single thing about Jiyong. At this point, she barely remembered what got her into this mess. What was it again?

Dara. She was definitely going to be blaming Dara.

Chaerin was anxiously flipping through any magazine she could find in the clinic’s waiting room when someone sat next to her. It took her a moment to realize it was Jiyong. “Hey,” she said softly, scanning him. He had clearly come from work, although she realized at that moment that she had no idea what it was that Jiyong actually did for a living. He was dressed in average clothes, his jeans somewhat dirty while his hair was disheveled and still slightly wet from sweat. He had definitely made an effort to look presentable.

When he caught her eye, he gave her a weak smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” she hesitated, but, since she had no one to talk to about this, it felt nice to be able to talk about this with someone. “I haven’t actually been sick yet, just a little weak. Everything seems to be killing me these days. I think it gets better after the first trimester, though.”

He nodded and didn’t say much else. The silence was a bit awkward. But she had to ask.

“What do you do for a living? I don’t think we ever talked about it.”

“I’m a restaurant cook,” he replied. Nothing in his face changed, and he had that same unreadable face he’d had at the coffee shop before. It was annoying and something she didn’t want to get used to.

“Oh. How long have you been doing that?”

He let out a soft sigh before shrugging his shoulders slightly, “I don’t know, maybe five or six years now.”

She furrowed her brows. Chaerin had assumed he was around her age, but, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Okay.”

All she could do was stare at him. “What’s your favorite color?”

He raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Yellow, I guess.”

Chaerin frowned. “Whose favorite color is yellow?”

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