Things didn’t really happen as expected after that. He didn’t come running after me as I stomped away. Hell, I didn’t even get a phone call. Almost a week had gone by and things had remained more or less the same. 

Namjoo and Bomi did, however, accept my apology. But there’s not much else you can do when someone shows up at your door step wailing and dripping water. They laughed like hell, but let me in Namjoo’s house. They were about to leave to go to awards night, but decided to hear my story first. We ended up staying in, watching cheesy romantic movies no one in their rational mind would cry at; none of us were in our rational minds, and we cried a lot. I felt kind of sorry, since Bomi was receiving an award, but bless her unchanging heart, she said she would be able to pick it up later, and stayed taking care of me. 

The only text I did end up getting was from Luhan later that night. It contained absolutely nothing about Sehun. It was a simple, four word text. 

I’m proud of you. 

I didn’t dare respond to him asking what Sehun thought. If it was noteworthy, I know he would’ve mentioned it. Did it bother me that he had no response? Yes. But there was not much else I could do. I tried, I left my heart on his driveway, and whether or not he responded was out of my control. It hurt like hell, but I read somewhere that love often did. If life so far had taught me anything, it is that all things come to an end. It just kind of that the end came so quickly. 

Jongup and I continued to be good friends, now going on best friends. I needed someone to sit next to at lunch. Sitting with the rest of the crowd was sort of out of the question. I knew I couldn’t sit in front of Sehun without demanding an answer. I didn’t want to tense up Bomi and Luhan’s relationship, so I couldn’t ask her and Namjoo to join Jongup and me during the lunch period. We did hang out together after school, though. At first, I thought it was going to be terribly awkward, that Namjoo wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue against him. They were surprisingly accepting, letting him in as if he had a clean slate. There was bickering, but that was expected. Namjoo’s new favorite activity had been converted into giving him a hard time, to which he gladly responded as creatively as possible. I would bet money that something would happen between those two very soon, and I was happy. Jongup deserved someone who would be devoted to him. They both did. 

I never did find out why Hayoung targeted Sehun specifically. I did learn why she enjoyed being a serial homewrecker, but there were tons of other happy relationships to perpetually up, I was pissed beyond belief that she had to choose mine. As expected, Hayoung had been cheated on in her long term relationship. People cope in different ways. Some write, some make huge lifestyle changes, and some turn into the thing they hate. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t blame her. I knew better than anyone what it was like to have all of this anger and frustration billowing inside of your body, not knowing how to get it out. It took all of the good in me to hope she finds someone who could help her rid herself of that anger, that nastiness that plagued her. 

Maybe that’s why she wanted Sehun. Maybe her intention wasn’t homewrecking this time around. Maybe she saw what he did for me, and wanted him to do the same to her, she just didn’t know how to go about it. I will never know the meaning behind that smirk, but I do know that it ended the thing I so often regarded as the only good thing that ever happened to me. 

“You’re spacing again, weirdo.” Jongup laughed, throwing a potato chip at me to get my attention. 

“Is that unusual?” I threw the chip back at him, aiming for his eye. 

“Nothing is unusual for you anymore.” He caught the chip midair, claiming a victory for himself. I smacked him after that comment, and he didn’t even complain, knowing that he well earned it. I knew he was referring to my actions last Saturday. The usual supportive friend I had in him turned incredibly judgmental as soon as I told him what had happened over coffee. 

“You really have no shame.” He had said after listening to me. 

“That’s kind of the point,” I had defended. “you know, giving all of my pride up to prove that I really cared? I thought you were into that romantic crap.” 

“Well, it was idiotic.” He had said as a final word. We hadn’t talked about it after that. 

“So are you coming today?” He asked, with a mouthful of potato chips ing up his enunciation. I had grown used to his, and the rest of his friends’, horrendous manners, but even still, it made me cringe sometimes. 

“Coming where?” I answered absentmindedly. 

“Spacing, not listening, forgetting things I’ve told you about literally ten times. You really need a break, Jung.” He tsk-ed at the end to solidify the tone of a lecture. I rolled my eyes at him, threatening to punch him. He knew to flinch by now, and it made me smile. 

“I remember when you used to answer my questions with actual answers, not lectures.” 

“Open mic night at that cafe I like.” He answered, thankfully swallowing before he talked. 

I did remember faintly that he had mentioned it. I was more than distracted lately. 

“What’s my motivation?” I asked him. 

“That you’ll get to hear my lovely singing voice. Namjoo and Bomi are thinking about doing something too.” I scoffed at him. 

“I hear that literally all the time. I was thinking something more in the realm of material motivation.” It was his turn to scoff. 

“Fine. You’ll get whatever meal your fat wishes to consume.” 

“That’s all I ask.” I said, beaming at him. “I’ll head over after my appointment.” We sealed the deal with our usual handshake, followed by laughter at how impossible it was for us to get it right. 

To anyone on the outside, I seemed fine, completely unaffected, but really, every second was a constant reminder that I couldn’t look at Sehun if I had any dignity, no matter how much I wanted to. 

“Ms. Jung, Mr. Yang is ready.” The receptionist called as I fiddled with my fingers. I had refused an appointment with my therapist since the last time we had spoken, where he completely called me out. I had been too much of a coward to see him since then. In light of recent events, recent revelations, I thought it would be appropriate to refrain from canceling today’s appointment. 

I walked slowly, sheepishly to the door of his office. I even bothered to knock before entering. He was as surprised as I was by this, because his eyebrows raised upon seeing me. 

“Ms. Jung. What a surprise.” He ushered me to enter anyway. 

“Eunji’s fine.” I smiled lightly. “And I’ve been thinking. You know, actually thinking.” He nodded, staring at me intently. It made me slightly uncomfortable, but having someone’s full attention always did. 

“Feel free to tell me anything.” He said, smiling now too. Maybe it was finally time I accept his help. It was professional, it was for money, but maybe, somewhere deep down, the man in the old sweater and thick glasses did care about me. 

“I guess all this time I’ve been trying to be mature, by refusing blatant help, by being rude for no reason, and I’ve really just been a brat. There’s nothing insightful about that. I don’t bottle