“Sehun,” She tightly clasps on my hand. I look at her and feel myself tense at her action. Lee Byul is crumbling right before me and she’s never usually like this. She’s a very composed woman, a very independent person, successful, good at what she does and like me; she’s also very sharp with her job, passionate. I see a part of me when I look at her, a part of who I used to be—one who seeks love, one who seeks someone who would stay, but no one did. But even though I see that part of me in her, I also know that isn’t the case for me anymore. I’ve already found someone who would stay. I have my wife.

I pull my hands away from her, “Cut the bull, Byul.”

She pulls back her hand and fishes something out of her bag. Byul puts something on the table and I pray it isn’t what I think it is. My hand balls into a fist and frown at the object across me, “You know what those two red lines mean, don’t you?” She asks and I freeze on my spot.

“When did you take this?” I ask monotonously, feeling my stomach tie into knots, my head prickling and my heart thumping inside my ribcage.

“The day you flew to New York. I went to the doctor the day after to get myself checked. I’m eight weeks pregnant, Sehun.” She tells me as I tighten my grip on the glass of vodka. I frown at the two red lines and I look up at her. She tears her gaze away from mine as she looks down on her fingers on the table, “Please, help me, Sehun.”

I look at her stomach, thinking how there’s a life developing inside of her, a life that’s already complicated because his parents weren’t being careful, because his parents were careless and selfish and stupid and he might not even be born with a normal family. I frown and feel myself fuming with the thought of a baby having to be raised with such a messed up environment because a couple of adults weren’t being considerate of the consequences of their actions. I look down and close my eyes briefly, knowing my next words will be a ray of hope for Byul, but will potentially hurt and anger my wife.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her and she shoots me a nonplussed look, “I’m here.”

I drive Byul back to her place. Her face is calmer now and not filled of worries. Before she gets out of the car, she looks back at me, “Thank you, Sehun,” She leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t mention it. Just make sure to take care of yourself and don’t stress out too much,” I tell her and she nods. I look at her stomach and she looks down on it too, “It’s not just you now,”

“How should I let you know my next appointment?” She asks.

“Just text me.”

“What about Haerin?” I stiffen at her question as she gives me a look, “Wouldn’t she know about this if I directly contact you?”

I sigh, “That’s my concern. Just text me.”

Byul nods and bids me her goodbye.

I drive home, contemplating what I’m supposed to tell Haerin, not knowing how she’ll react, not knowing what will happen next, not knowing if she’ll be too mad and walk away or stay and understand me. I’m scared. Haerin’s been vulnerable lately and we haven’t even really talked about our issues. I’m not so sure how she’ll take it if she’ll even take it. I leave a hand on the steering wheel while I check my phone with the other. I see unread texts from my wife.

“,” I step on the brakes as I look at her messages. She’s been waiting for me. I promised her dinner. . I stepped on it and quickly get myself home. It’s almost eleven o’clock. When I get home, I don’t bother to take my stuff out of the car and immediately walk in. Haerin isn’t in the living room like where I thought she’d be waiting for me.

“Hae?” I walk past the dining area and the food is served. She cooked my favorite pasta.

“Hae, I’m home,” I walk upstairs and walk to our room, “Babe-” when I open the door, the room is empty. There’s no sign of Haerin. I fish my phone out of my pocket and ring her number. I hear her ringtone from the art room. I realize its door is slightly cracked open.

She doesn’t answer her phone so I end the call as I walk to the art room. When I push the door open, I see Haerin lying on the floor with her phone a few feet away from her and an art piece I’m guessing she had just done to kill time with. Guilt rushes over my system as I kneel next to her sleeping figure. I pick strands of hair out of her face and see her sleep soundly. I lean down and kiss her forehead. Haerin shifts but doesn’t wake up. I scoop her up from the floor and carry her back to our room. She snuggles on my chest and I smile small knowing my wife is still fond of my scent even though we barely slept in the same bed when we were both drowned in too much work.

I lay her down on the bed and put on the comforter over her body. She lies on her side and pulls the cover further up. I lower myself and kiss her cheek, “Good night baby,” I whisper.

I walk around the bed and sink on my side while I contemplate how I’m supposed to tell her about Byul. Haerin and I haven’t even sorted out things well. We’ve never sat down and talked about her leaving work, which was supposed to happen tonight, but I spaced out. I think of how my wife will possibly react when she finds out I’ve decided to commit myself to helping someone out. I think of how she’ll take it when I say I’m basically offering to help a woman who further ruined a marriage. I think of it even though I know she’ll most likely never be proud. I think of it even though I know it’s stupid because I know she’ll most likely end up angry at me at some point.

I think of Byul and how it’s a mistake to even be involved with her. I don’t know why I even bothered. Sehun, what did you do? I rub my temples and sigh. Maybe sleep will help. Maybe tomorrow would be a better time to tell my wife. I can’t wake her up only to bring her bad news. Maybe tomorrow morning is better because I’ll have more hours to the day to talk to her if—when—she becomes upset. I take off my wristwatch and settle it on the bedside table. I then pull my sweater over my head. I’m in no mood to change into comfortable pjs. I’ll just sleep in my boxers.

I suddenly feel movement from her side of the bed. I look to my side and see my wife up from her slumber as she crawls to me. Haerin wraps her arms around my stomach and rests her chin on my shoulder, “Did you just get in?” She asks.

I take her hand and pull it up to my lips and kiss it, “I’m sorry about dinner,” I mutter.

She’s silent for a while and then she releases a small chuckle, “No, it’s fine. I fell asleep anyway,”

I turn and kiss her cheek. I kiss her because her hug is warm, her hug feels like home, her hug feels like I’m not in such a bad place, her hug takes off some of my thoughts of Byul and her pregnancy. Her hug is everything.

“Are you wearing one of my shirts again?” I ask, realizing her white shirt is actually one of mine. She nods and I pick her up and make her sit on my lap, straddling my hips. I rest my hands on her back, drawing small circles as I feel her fingers play with