Sehun had been nothing but a perfect gentleman after that, and by that I mean he respected me enough to act like none of it ever happened. Still, it was hard for me not to remember it. I felt light headed from sobbing so much, I felt embarrassed for letting myself be so vulnerable out in the open and for slobbering all over his cardigan, and most of all, I felt enamored towards the kid that helped me even though it seemed like I wanted anything but help. He drove me home shortly after I calmed down, and I felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. For the first time in what seemed like centuries, I felt relieved; there wasn’t any lingering hatred or any dark raincloud over my head. I felt at ease, and it was taking a toll on my emotions.

I opened the door and dropped my bag as soon as I stepped in. The ringing in my ears still hadn’t stopped, and I swear I was getting short of breath because of my heart. I did the usual and peeked in the kitchen to say a quick hi to my mother before leaving to lock myself in my room, but before I opened my mouth, I noticed her wiping away sweat and lightly massaging her neck while she cut vegetables. It was like I suddenly became aware of what an ungrateful piece of I was; here was my hardworking single mother coming home from work straight to cooking, and I couldn’t even give her anything other than a half assed “hi”. And it sort of pissed me off that I couldn’t come up with this conclusion on my own, that I needed the delusion of the twerp to help me be a better person. I walked over to her and grabbed a knife and a red pepper. 

“My hands are clean” I said, and she smiled at me, obviously pleasantly surprised at my helping. 

“Are you alright? Did you get some new medication I don’t know about? Because if you did, take an extra dosage, this is nice.” She laughed and I gently nudged her before joining her with a slight chuckle. “How was school today?” 

“Predictable.” I muttered, not wanting to elaborate on any of the more complicated details of my social life. It got quiet after she nodded, and I realized how sad it was that I didn’t know how to talk to my own mother. 

We cut vegetables in silence for a while, and it made me uncomfortable. 

“Ma, can I ask you something?” I asked, breaking the silence. 

“You’re going to ask me even if I say no, so go ahead.” I smiled at her comment and cleared my throat. 

“How did you know you were in love with dad?” It was an innocent question, one that a young child would ask, but her reaction couldn’t help but make me feel like I said something wrong. She stopped cutting vegetables altogether, and glanced over at me with the most somber smile I’d ever seen. 

“I don’t think I ever loved your father, Eunji.” I stopped cutting at this point too, and I looked over to face her. “And I don’t think he ever loved me.” 

It didn’t make sense. My memory wasn’t distorted, and I always remember them happy. The confusion was painted over my face, and the irregular thumping in my chest quickened, but for a much different reason. 

“Now, that doesn’t mean he never loved you. He loved you very much, and I don’t ever want what I’m about to say to impact how you view him at all. I know what he meant to you, and what he still means to you. Don’t let me make him any different for you, understand?”

I nodded. 

“Maybe you don’t understand now, but at a certain point, you’ll start to care less about yourself and your own feelings, and more about your stability, be it economical, emotional, whatever. Your father never gave me a spark, but he did give me stability.” She still hadn’t picked up her knife to proceed cutting, but I didn’t know what to do, and did it to r