It was the phone call that had compelled him to agree.

Ryeowook would have ignored a text, and probably a voice mail as well. However, Kyuhyun had called him more than a handful of times, never leaving a voice message or text message. If it was something menial, then it shouldn’t have been so important that he demanded they speak directly over the phone.

And so, he finally answered. Expecting something more dramatic than an invitation to lunch, Ryeowook was almost disappointed. Nonetheless, he had agreed.

Nearly three weeks after their last meeting at the summer concert, Ryeowook had spent more than his fair share of time pondering this new dynamic of theirs. Was it sustainable? Was it ever going to be a friendship that only held scars of a broken past? Or would their friendship always bring forth new wounds?

That was partly why he had decided to attend lunch. Maybe he could find some answers.

The café was nothing special. Other than it being a new dining place in the city, Ryeowook found nothing unique about it. The menu had familiar foods and the décor was minimalistic, but trendy. All in all, a forgettable place.

He expected to arrive earlier than Kyuhyun, but was surprised to find the man sitting at a back table, looking over a menu. Ryeowook slowed his steps, waiting until Kyuhyun looked up to greet him.

“Hey, long time no see,” Kyuhyun smiled, waving at him.

Ryeowook relaxed a bit. “Yeah. Long time no see. Have you been busy?” He settled into the chair across from him and picked up a menu as well.

“A bit,” he murmured, “I’ve been working on some complicated paperwork recently, so that’s been keeping me up later.” As if to emphasize the point, Kyuhyun yawned, barely managing to stifle it. He shrugged sheepishly. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Jongwoon doesn’t really tell me much about your company. Are you working on a new project?” Ryeowook tilted his head, curiously.

Kyuhyun paused. “I…suppose that’s one way to put it.” He glanced up at a waiter coming toward them. “Let’s order first and then I’ll explain.”

Ryeowook nodded, choosing a random item off the menu. It hardly mattered when everything was generic. He was surprised that Kyuhyun had chosen such a bland place. The café was just beginning, and it was clear that they were still learning how things worked. “Okay,” he spoke up, taking a sip of water on the table, “what’s this project?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a few years, but after doing a financial review recently, it seems we’re finally ready to move forward.” Kyuhyun’s eyes glimmered. “I’m planning to expand into China. We’ve already found a suitable building in Shanghai to work out of while we’re testing the market. Jongwoon and the newer artists won’t be participating in the project, but our older artists will be.”

“Wait.” Ryeowook could feel his head spinning. “So, you’re leading this?”

He nodded, expression neutral. “I’ll be moving there in a month.”

“Oh.”

If Kyuhyun noticed anything strange about the reaction, he didn’t comment. Instead, he offered a few more details about the project and structure, but Ryeowook hardly processed any of it. Rather than feeling like he was losing the love of his life, it felt like losing his best friend—a dear, frustrating, aggravating, insufferable best friend.

But still, the closest person in his life was moving forward. Truly moving forward.

Their food arrived amidst Kyuhyun describing some of the interesting aspects of the Chinese music scene, and Ryeowook was glad for the distraction. He focused on eating, nodding and humming agreements where appropriate.

He knew they hadn’t been part of each other’s lives for a long time, even before they were divorced, however, this was a bit more shocking than he had expected. When had he lost his best friend to time, jealousy, and bitterness? When did it all start?

“Ryeowook?”

“Huh?” He shook his head, focusing back on Kyuhyun who was watching him with concern. Ryeowook flushed, setting his utensils down. “Sorry, I’m just really surprised. You’ve been thinking about expanding to China for years?”

“It’s been on my mind,” he spoke carefully, eyes falling back to his food, “but like I said, it was mostly a money issue. Now that that’s stable, it’s a good time to move forward with this plan.”

Ryeowook pursed his lips. “I guess…that’s sensible. Will you be permanently moving? Or…?”

“If we’re successful, I’ll be staying there for several years at the minimum.”

Forcing a smile, Ryeowook nodded. “I understand. Well, congratulations on launching the project. I’ll be wishing you the best.” He ignored the quickly widening gap in his chest, knowing that nothing would fill it. It was a void that was meant for lost potential. Lost time. Lost everything.

Kyuhyun flashed an easy grin. “Thanks. So, how has your composing been going?”

And then their meal continued in uncomfortable peace. The looming weight of Kyuhyun’s confession barely allowed Ryeowook to think about anything other than China and heartache.

It was pathetic.

He was pathetic.

Their plates were cleared. The bill was split.

As they stood to leave, Ryeowook wondered if the emotional exhaustion that came with meeting Kyuhyun would ever fade. Before those thoughts could wrap themselves around Ryeowook, a voice was pulling him back to the present.

“Wait, I have something for you.”

Ryeowook turned back around, seeing Kyuhyun rummaging through his leather bag. Several files were crammed into the bag, looking disorganized beyond belief. Laughing softly, Ryeowook watched the other man struggle. “Some things don’t change. Shouldn’t your secretary be handling those files? You’re definitely going to mix up papers.”

Kyuhyun shot him a playful glare. “Whatever. These are important and I’m learning to be responsible.” He chuckled under his breath. Finally finding the correct envelope, he passed it to Ryeowook.

It was an unmarked manila envelope.

“What is this?” Ryeowook flipped it over, reaching for the metal hook on the back.

Kyuhyun’s hand shot forward, stopping him. “Open it later. They’re just some documents.” He smiled one last time, slightly breathless and more beautiful than Ryeowook had ever seen him.

Too dumbstruck, he merely nodded, lowering his hands and gripping the envelope securely.

“Goodbye, Ryeowook.”

He watched Kyuhyun’s retreating backside for as long as he could, not quite understanding what had just happened. The man faded from view and for several minutes, Ryeowook had no idea what he was supposed to do.

It felt…different. Final.

Looking back down at the envelope, he sank back onto the café chair. Carefully unhooking the clasp, he slid the documents out.

A marriage certificate.

There was a single note attached to it.

For you and Jongwoon. Good luck.