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The countdown was really starting. Three months exactly and Namjoo would give birth. Their little girl will finally be here.

Jongin had started a calendar on his phone. Been boasting the news to his co-workers who gleamed with congratulations. Some of his married co-workers gave him tips about baby proofing his apartment. One woman specifically advised to take lots of pictures. Babies grow fast she said. He didn’t doubt that. Other friendly colleagues gifted him gift cards, which he showed off to Namjoo.

Her last OB checkup had gone smoothly. Immediately afterwards they had visited his mother to show her the ultrasound picture. Spent the evening with her then returned home where Namjoo upset him unintentionally.

“I want to call Seojun,” Namjoo announced after her shower and she wasn’t asking for his opinion, which more than ticked him off. No matter how long in the future, the mention of that guy would forever piss him off. Jongin had long decided he’d hate Seojun forever. Morbid jealousy or whatever, Seojun never deserved Namjoo’s attention again.

Yet here she was. Giving it to him willingly.

Again, repeating, “Don’t you remember the way he treated you when he found out you were pregnant?!”

Yes, the dragging. The pamphlets of orphanages. The yelling.

Namjoo had been so broken. So torn and sad she’d gotten sick. So weighed down with stress she’d landed in the hospital. Oppressing her with a wedding Namjoo had wanted to call off. They had disrespected her, hurt her, and she was still worried about that scumbag ex.

His blood level was shooting through the roof right now.

Just the mere thought of her ex-fiancé had Jongin’s blood boiling. That had been his child that guy had wanted to get rid of.

“I just want to talk to him.”

“About what?!” Jongin questioned, voice raised. “He disappeared from your life. Just leave him be!”

“I’m worried about him.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “That’s such a pathetic excuse. He is a grown man, Namjoo!”

Namjoo stared at him with soft puppy eyes which managed to anger him even more. Because he cared about her. He worried for her. He loved her. And whenever he saw that expression he was bound to give way because he had developed such a soft spot for her.

Jongin wanted to belly punch himself.

Seojun was a danger to her.

Not because of him, but because of the baby. If the baby never existed, he’d still have her. Jongin understood the baby was the source of his grievances. At any one moment he could destroy what bonded Namjoo to him.

“You don’t get it, Jongin.”

“What, Namjoo,” he held his head higher, “what don’t I get? That you were going to get married? But he left you! And he’s disappeared again. What difference does that make?”

“I just want to know that he’s ok.”

“Wow,” he breathed tousling his hair. “You still care about some other guy.”

“You know it’s not like that.” Namjoo tried.

“You know that’s not the point,” Jongin shook his head, disappointed, hurt. Their baby was coming. Shouldn’t that be the priority right now? Not worrying about a man who had vanished into thin air?

“The fact is that you still care to think about him even after all this time.” Jongin stared at her sharply. At the same time wondering what he meant to her.

Neither of them had breached that subject since. Though Namjoo had tried talking to him as they slept that night, but he had refused to budge turned away from her.

Now, a couple days later, he could still say he was upset. He trusted that Namjoo’s feelings for Seojun were no longer the same, but he was worried…jealous that she still wanted to look after Seojun. As if he weren’t her past. As if he had never hurt her.

Instead of returning home after work he cruised around downtown for some good 15 minutes. Pulling over to stare at a jewelry shop across the street. For some strange reason, the square building stood out magnificently. The store name popping out in bright silver letters.

Pushing open the car door he walked up to the front doors. Peering inside at the glass displays. Of watches. Necklaces. Bracelets. Rings.

He had yielded at the beginning when Namjoo asked not to be impulsive about marriage, even though he was aware it was something they’d have to think about. They were having a baby. Out of some crazy, twisted story Namjoo had gotten pregnant with his baby. Jongin couldn’t help but think this was meant to be part of his life.

That was then. When he only knew they used to go to school together. Now he was certain he wanted to spend the rest of his future with her. Whether it be a difficult laden road, he’d walk with her. He wanted her in his life. Felt as if all he’d been searching for in his life rested in her. And he could have it, because his baby was coming.

Regardless how he felt or how much she could anger him he still loved her.

“Good afternoon,” one of the store managers came up to him with a pearly white smile. “Is there anything I can help you look for today?”

“No,” he shook his head with a smile. “Just looking around.”

“If you have any questions or are interested in something, let us know,” she said with that customer service smile before leaving him.

Jongin went from glass to glass. Scanning the sparkling diamonds that seemed to reach out to him with invisible arms screaming buy me, buy me! Although he knew from the beginning there was a great possibility of marriage he had never really thought about what kind of ring he’d get for Namjoo.

He wanted her hand in marriage. He wanted to make every one of her dreams come true. He wanted to be by her side watching as all her happiness unfolded.

He left the store without purchasing anything. Sitting in his car again. Staring at the jewelry store. Wondering if by any chance had Namjoo contacted Seojun? What kinds of things did she want to say to him? Whatever it may be, Jongin didn’t want him in their lives. He didn’t want his daughter to ever meet the man who had once been so close to marrying her. He didn’t want to hear his daughter ask, “Why did you marry daddy and not him?”

Jongin glanced down at his phone.

֎֎֎֎֎

“I’ll be home late. Eat without me.” Was Jongin’s text.

Sighing Namjoo put down her phone. He had been somewhat distant with her since she mentioned Seojun. It wasn’t because she cared for him romantically. Indeed, she was worried about him. He had been drunk the last time he came to her. She understood there was a good cause to be scared of him and she sort of was, but more than that she worried for him.

Seojun was drinking again. She didn’t want to be the reason he tore his life apart. She didn’t want to live with the fact that he had destroyed himself because of her. It wasn’t a good feeling. It didn’t make her happy knowing that.

At first, she had thought she couldn’t live without him. So many hours spent together. There was no foresight that she’d ever be without him. She had so eagerly said yes when he popped the question. He had been everything, but it had been naïve of her to think things would never change.

Life still happened. Turning its back on her when it pleased. Without any warning. Seojun must be stuck in that abyss she had once been in. He just had no one to help him escape the way Jongin had helped her. Deep. Dark. Spinning in the same circle, like the two hands of a clock forever chasing each other.

If not for the baby Namjoo knew she would have given up, too. If only Seojun had a hand to hold onto…

Namjoo cooked. Ate a little while taste testing her dish. It felt like forever since she’d picked up a cooking spoon. Jongin had been cooking so much for her that she felt like she was losing her cooking skills. Maybe he was grooming her to be a lazy wife.

Namjoo laughed to herself before turning to stare at the door.

What was Jongin doing out so late that he wasn’t coming home?

Was it because of her?

Come home, please she silently begged. Staring at the door once more thinking she missed him.

֎֎֎֎֎

Jongin turned when a purse landed with a thud on the countertop beside him. When he and Mina first started their fling they often went to eat at bars. Food was cheap. Chicken wings cost only a few dollars. It was an easy way to budget since he was just starting out at his company trying to build a career. Mina was doing small time modeling that didn’t pay much. In a way, his mother was practically right. He had been raising Mina. She had profited off him. He had loved her then.

“Want a drink?” Jongin asked by way of greeting. He was sitting at the bar counter taking small sips from a glass of water. A paper bowl of onion rings beside it.

“Why, Jongin, this is the last place I imagine you’d want to be.” Mina folded her arms against the counter, leaned over to look at him. “Or is it, you’ve finally tired of that big belly?”

The bartender came over. Mina waved him away. “I heard you’re in a company now.”

“Oh,” Mina touched her chest with a small gasp, asking teasingly, “have you been keeping tabs on me?”

Jongin withheld a sigh. Dug into his wallet and slid over the ultrasound picture. “It’s my daughter.”

Mina gave one glance then averted her eyes. “Showing off? Sadly, I don’t care Jongin. That could have been our daughter, too.”

“There are twenty weeks left before she’s born.” Jongin swiped the picture back.

“Do you think I care about your daddy business?” Mina raised a brow. “Are you still sure that baby’s yours? Wasn’t Namjoo getting married?”

“I love her, Mina,” Jongin turned to look at her. “Whatever you say isn’t going to change my mind.”

“Well, then,” Mina breathed reaching for her purse, “it seems like there’s no reason for me to be here.”

Snatching her bag Mina slid off her chair and walked away. The tapping of her heels fading as she started toward the door. Jongin remained seated for another second before hurrying after her. Under the drooping sun stars were just starting to appear in the dark glow of the sky. Mina’s car was parked near a street lamp coming to life.

“You asked when I stopped loving you,” Jongin started when she reached her car. Mina’s hand latched onto the door handle allowing him to stop walking. “I didn’t, Mina. Not even after I wrote you that breakup letter, and…and I’m sorry I did it that way. I regret it, I do.” He waited a beat then continued, “I really waited for you to call. Only you didn’t. That’s when I lost hope in you thinking, there you go again. Choosing your dream job over me again.”

“I always wanted this job. You know that! I had to!” Mina defended herself.

“I know that,” Jongin acknowledged, “but you were right. I wanted a family before all else. I think we just weren’t good for each other, Mina. When we were together all I thought about was how to get you to marry me and all you thought about was acquiring your dream first. Mina, you didn’t anger me. I was just…we both are getting older. I don’t want to finally start a family when I’m forty. I want now.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I lied but I made the best of it, you know? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a dad. And you’re finally a model, Mina. You deserve to make the best of it, so lets stop this. I don’t want my daughter to grow up like us. I want to be a good example for her.”

“So lets not see each other again?” Mina asked.

“I’m sorry, Mina.”

“I get it, Jongin,” Mina said despondent. “We’re done.” Pulling the door open she slid in with a, “Lets not see each other again.”

Jongin watched her drive off unable to ignore the emptiness in his heart.

֎֎֎֎֎

There was food on the table. Namjoo was asleep on the couch again. He went over to her first. She woke up with the slightest touch. Looking sweetly drowsy as she sat up, her hair astray around her head. He smiled at the sight.

“Did you eat?” he quietly asked pushing her hair behind her ear.

“Yea.” She nodded.

“Why do you keep sleeping out here?” Jongin asked as they got up. “We have a bed you know.”

Namjoo followed him into the kitchen watching as he reheated the food. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven,” Jongin replied watching the timer on the microwave.

“Where did you go?”

“I went to see Mina.”

A moment of silence spiraled around them. He wondered if Namjoo would misunderstand. Get upset with him the way he got upset with her. He was surprised when Namjoo hugged him from behind.

“I missed you,” she murmured.

He let himself sink into the warmth of her body. Feel the hands tightly wrapped around him. Turning, he brushed his hand through her tousled hair. “Are you sure you ate earlier?”

“Yea.” She smiled before hugging him again. Burying her face into his neck.

When he finally sat down Namjoo scooted the spare chair over to sit beside him. After a few spoonfuls he turned to her, “I can’t eat with you watching.”

Grinning sheepishly, she said, “Feed me, too. I’m suddenly hungry.”

He couldn’t help but laugh because she was pregnant and so cute. This was the closest they’d been since she’d spoken about Seojun. For tonight it didn’t matter.

That night he woke up to Namjoo struggling to get up for the third time. Writhing and groaning in an effort to push herself up. First, she had gone to the bathroom. Second, he’d found her in the kitchen eating out of their ice cream container.  

“Are you ok?” he turned to her.

“I’m uncomfortable,” Namjoo complained.

As exhausted as he was he sat up to help her to her feet.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yea,” Namjoo breathed. “I just feel like .”

He raised a brow.

“Do you have a shirt I can wear?” Namjoo asked. “This one’s too tight.”

“Yea, yea, hold on,” he said. Walking away he rummaged through his drawer for a tee and handed it to her.

After changing, she said, “Go back to sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to go sit for bit. I don’t think I can sleep,” Namjoo mumbled then walked out of the room closing the door behind her.

Jongin returned to bed managing to clock in an hour or two of sleep. When he awoke again his bedside was still empty. Worried, he got up. It wasn’t unusual for Namjoo to get up in the middle of the night for something to eat. A few times she had begged him to go to the store to get her something as minor as a candy bar. This was the first she was staying up at night.

He found her sitting in the living room with a book and the television on mute. A bowl of popcorn sat beside her. More than half of it eaten.

“What are you reading?” he asked coming up behind her.

Namjoo jumped almost spilling the bowl. “Freaking God! You scared me!” she turned to shoot him a glare.

“Sorry,” he apologized. Walking around the couch he moved the bowl of popcorn onto the floor to sit beside her. “You don’t have work in the morning?”

“I do.”

“Why are you up?”

“I just can’t sleep.” Namjoo answered.

“Because of Bubbles?” he asked touching her more than relevant belly.

“Because of Bubbles,” Namjoo said.

“You shouldn’t be giving your mom such a hard time,” Jongin playfully chided her baby bump.

Namjoo touched his hair before leaning against him. “I lost my page.”

Grabbing her book, he muttered, “A murder mystery.”

Snatching it from him she defended, “What? It’s a good book.”

“Maybe you’re having nightmares,” Jongin suggested.

“No, it’s not!” Namjoo retorted.

“You’re scared, and you just won’t say it,” he continued to tease.

“I am not!” Namjoo argued.

Speaking to the baby, “Your mom’s a scaredy-cat.”

They playfully bickered back and forth and woke up in the morning still on the couch.

֎֎֎֎֎

“Why are we going to the temple again?” Namjoo asked sitting on the bed to put on her socks while Jongin packed their duffel bag.

“My father is buried near one,” Jongin replied stuffing a shirt and sweats inside.

“It’s so far away,” Namjoo said struggling to reach her feet but her bulging stomach remained in the way. She tried stretching again. Finally realizing she could just fold her leg up to make the job easier when Jongin turned to look at her.

Sitting up on the bed he placed her feet on his lap, took the socks from her, and helped put them on. “It’s just one night. And if the floors are too hard, well, there’s a hotel nearby with beds.”

“Wouldn’t your mom be upset?” Namjoo wondered.

“Mom? Nah,” Jongin shook his head. “I think she cares more about the baby, but this is more your trip than mine.”

Namjoo looked at him with a half-skewed smile. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s so you can meet my dad, remember?” Jongin asked. “Ok, done.”

Standing up he zipped up the duffel bag and they headed out.

“What was your father like?” Namjoo wondered as they drove down the road to pick up his mother.

“Funny, like me,” Jongin grinned. Namjoo scoffed. “What?” he asked. “I’m serious.”

Namjoo slapped his shoulder, “You’re really not that funny. My gosh, we’re going to be such boring parents. I have no humor, too!”

Namjoo laughed hysterically not sure if she found it more horrifying or hilarious.

Jongin’s mother brought loads of food with her. Memorial stuff for Jongin’s father she explained. His favorite foods and drinks. They usually visited him a few times a year but now that Jongin lived away from his mom she visited once a year. On his death anniversary, which wasn’t today.

They parked at the temple first. A lush green yard sprawled out before them with traditional style homes. A mile beyond the temple territory was a resting place for the devoted. It was where Jongin’s father had been buried. The mound was overgrown with weed and tall grass.

As Namjoo looked beyond the forest Jongin and his mother chopped away at the weeds to clear the area. She listened to his mother apologize for coming so late then the ritual ensued with the alcohol and food. Jongin’s mother chirped away about life, about her son, about their granddaughter, introducing her.

Namjoo got a fair picture of their family. From moments of when Jongin spoke about his dad to her. The things his mother said about his father. Jongin sounded like a free spirit under his parents’ reign. Until, that was, perhaps after high school when his father didn’t return home. Namjoo didn’t know, but she looked up at him. Seeing his strict gaze on the grass covered mound. He turned to her when she gripped his hand and offered a small smile.

On the trek back to the temple it started drizzling. Raining a little harder when they returned to the temple. Talking about tomorrow’s dues when they returned to the city. Laughing over Jongin’s baby stories. Then they ate and turned in for the night.

Namjoo’s legs ached even though she hadn’t done much walking. Her body was sore. Her back was tense. She couldn’t sleep not because the floor was hard. They were offered a set of soft, cushy futon and comfortable blankets. Namjoo had negated the idea of the hotel since it was rude leaving his mother behind. Besides it was one night anyway. What would that hurt?

She lay there listening to the crickets chirp. Wondering if she should get up, walk around to tire herself. Jongin got up instead. Quietly creeping outside and closing the door after him. He hadn’t said much after they visited his father. Nothing about his father but he had acted like normal. Namjoo had expected father stories from him or about his high school life when his father was probably a bigger part of his life. There was nothing.

She struggled rolling to the side. Tried even harder to push herself up. When she finally managed to get up to her feet she was breathless. All the weight had gone to her midsection proving her incapable of being alone. She dreaded thinking how much harder it would be for her to get up a month from now.

Stepping toward the door she slid it open and peered out. Jongin hadn’t gone far. He was sitting at the edge of the stoop. Appearing forlorn. His silhouette the shadow of a lonely man.

“Moon gazing?” Namjoo asked sitting beside him.

Here, without the artificial city lights, stars struck. Scattered throughout like the sky was its empire. Drizzling yellow and white patterns.

“When there’s no moon?” Jongin peered at her cheekily.

Namjoo smiled. “My dad said the chirping of crickets is actually a love song.”

“You’re not, like, going to get emotional and dedicate something like that to me, are you?” Jongin joked.

Namjoo laughed and gently shoved him.

“You’re so cute,” he said touching her face.

“I love you, Jongin,” she told. Putting her arms around him she let him settle his head on her small shoulder. “Don’t be lonely, Jongin.”

“I’m not,” Jongin said. “I just wish my dad was still alive. He’d like you. He’d be even more excited about the baby. These things about being a dad, he’d know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Withdrawing, he rubbed his thumb across her chin. “It’s ok.” Giving her a peck, he said, “Lets go back inside. It might rain again. Do you need help?”

“Yea.” She reached out for his hand letting him pull her to her feet and they headed back inside together.

Contrary to the plan, Namjoo didn’t sleep much but she held Jongin’s hand throughout the night. Listening to him breathe and that settled her. They left an offering for the monks at the temple in the morning before departing. On the way back home, they had to make several stops because Namjoo needed to use the bathroom. Delaying the arrival time back to the city.

Upon his mother’s urging they stopped by her place. She ended up cooking a feast for them which was more intended for Namjoo and the baby than for her own son. By the time they got home Namjoo felt like complete . She was tired. Her body still ached. Her back was still tense. She hadn’t managed to fall asleep during the car ride. Not even a minute of it. She felt frustrated and wanted to but about what she wasn’t sure.

She showered first and for a long time. Hoping the hot water would calm her before she went berserk on Jongin who didn’t deserve it. After visiting his father, she just wanted to make him feel at home. He probably missed his dad. Was sad about it. He probably needed a man to man talk but she couldn’t provide that for him.

Namjoo felt even more frustrated. Realizing she couldn’t do anything to comfort Jongin. She stayed in the shower for almost a full hour. The bathroom was fogged up by the time she stepped out. Jongin blinked at her silently from the living room.

Unintentionally, she snapped, “What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

Mumbling underneath her breath she walked into the bedroom to dispose of her towel and clothes. By the time Jongin finished showering she was just about to close her eyes on the couch. Having settled in comfortably. Feeling peaceful for a moment. Jolting when he called her name. Namjoo was ready to snap again but stopped when heard music. She looked around, confused.

“Come on,” Jongin extended his hand playfully. He pulled her up in her state of confusion. Holding her hands as he playfully bounced around to the lively music.

Still egged by exhaustion and droopy eyes she let him pull her hands back and forth. Smiling in a silly way to encourage her along. She felt so heavy that was all she could think about. Cheesecake floated through her mind and for a second, she nearly drooled. Then she heard Jongin cackle.

Waking up, Namjoo yanked her hand away from him. The pounding music was clearer now.

“No?” he asked. Stepping away from her he picked up his phone and went through his assorted list of songs. The pounding bass softened into a lulling melody, a gentle crooning voice.

Playfully stepping back, Jongin folded an arm at his back. Bowing slightly with his extended arm. “Dance with me, Miss?”

The corner of her lips immediately moved up toward her ears. She took his hand, let him embrace her. Namjoo took a long whiff of his natural musky scent. Burying her face into his shoulder. Leaning against him as he moved them back and forth. One step this way. Another step that way. Rhythmically. She wanted to ask how he was so good at dancing but then her legs gave way and she fell into him almost toppling them over.

“Are you ok?” Jongin caught her in time righting his balance as he held her tightly.

“Yea, I’m just tired,” Namjoo answered.

“Ok.” He brushed his hand across her face, worried. “Lets get you in bed.”

“What if I can’t sleep?” Namjoo whinnied almost on the verge of tears. She just wanted to sleep for ten hours.

“Then, I’ll stay up with you,” he smiled. “Come on.”

Sighing, she let him tuck her in. Turn the lights off and creep into bed beside her. She imagined crickets chirping as she held his hand and an hour later finally slept. Awaking three hours later with a jolt when she heard a gunshot. Jongin’s body jerked beside her upon the impact.

Panting heavily, Namjoo felt around for him. Touching his chest. His shirt. His face. Hearing him murmur and turn away from her. Breathing a sigh of relief that it had been a nightmare, Namjoo slipped out of the covers and walked out with chills.

All she thought about was Seojun. And she was scared. She hadn’t heard from him.

“Not until he dies or I do. I can’t give up.”

She was just getting paranoid now from lack of sleep. Shaking her head Namjoo looked around the dark apartment. Feeling freaked. Picking up her pace she scurried through the apartment flicking all the lights on.

Surely, no one had broken in. It was just lack of sleep. Rubbing her face, she sank into the couch. As she closed her eyes she wondered why she was starting to feel more unease the closer she got to her due date.

***OMG finally two chapters left! /cries/ I am finally completing this story /ugly sobbing/