"I saved my words in order to forget you
I tell myself that I really forgot
But in the end, I’m talking about you"
-EPIK HIGH ft. LEE HI, CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART

Wonwoo tossed and the bed, not getting a blink of sleep as he mulled over the stuff he was supposed to do tomorrow morning. Make breakfast, wake up the boys and then clean the house for a bit. Make Seokhwee wash the clothes if he can’t do that anymore. He sighs as he turns to his side, breathing in and out to calm himself as it was the seventh night that his husband haven’t gone home before ten in the evening. Mingyu had been going home past midnight for the whole week because of work. Wonwoo thinks otherwise.

Realizing he didn’t bring his phone with him in the bedroom, he gets up the bed with a hand on his stomach, careful with his own body as he was already seven and a half months in pregnancy. His stomach is bulging but he was glad his husband’s shirt could slightly cover it up.

“Umma... you’re still up?” Wonwoo heard his eldest son’s voice halfway down the stairs. Seokhwee was watching another season of Regular Show on TV in the living room.

“I left my phone on the dinner table. I’m going to call your Appa.” He excuses himself as he goes to the kitchen to get his phone, sighing as he saw that there were no messages nor missed calls from Mingyu. “Where’s Jungmin?” he asked as he makes his way back up the stairs.

He notices his son fumbling with his phone for a few seconds before looking back up at him. “H-he’s in his room… um... he’s tired from soccer practice umma, so I think it is best not to bother.” He says before turning back to the tv quickly as if he was hiding something.

Wonwoo wanted to ask further and ask for proof since Seokhwee acted weirdly. Just that he was more tempted to just go back to the master’s bedroom and lay down to give his husband a call since he misses him dearly. He eventually shakes his head and does the latter, making his way back to his and his husband’s bed, sitting at the edge as he dialed Mingyu’s number.

“The number you are trying to contact is not available. Please try your call later.”

He looks at the clock on the wall over the door and then back to his bulging stomach. His husband’s shirt slowly getting wet from the tears that started to fall from his eyes. He chooses to blame it on his stupid hormones instead of believing that Mingyu has more important priorities than him.

---

A black smart phone with a titanium case came flying from the hallway to the living room couch, startling Seokhwee. He sees his younger brother drenched in sweat, eyes read and breathing unstable. He stands up as Jungmin storms his way towards him, pointing at the phone on the black velvet couch.

“You still don’t believe me!?” Jungmin screams at his older brother who looks at him with a worried expression. “Look at it!”

Seokhwee looks at the phone and sees the array of notifications. There were thirty missed calls and fifty messages from Wonwoo. It’s unmistakably Mingyu’s phone judging from the wallpaper; their family picture when Jungmin turned seven years old. He feels himself tremble as a frown makes its way to his face but he throws the phone down on the floor and stomps on it, breaking the screen.

He turned to the younger and bit his lower lip before he spoke. “Jungmin, please be quiet you don’t want umma to hear this.” Seokhwee pleads and shakes his head, reaching out to hold his younger brother’s shoulders to calm him down, shaking him lightly. “Jungmin, please.”

But Jungmin was having none of it. He shrugs his brother’s hands off of him and screamed. “HE SHOULD KNOW THAT APPA HAD BEEN LYING TO US ALL THIS TIME!” he shouts loud and clear in spite. “I saw his phone in the trash can, vibrating from notifications after notifications and calls. Still vibrating even when I was on my home!” he cried.

“And you know what else?” Sungmin exhales deeply and grits his teeth as he managed to grab a