In the end, it had gone like this:

Sehun, for all his reservations and guilt, had been willing to go through with his obligations to his job, and specifically his assignment in Hong Kong. He was on the plane. He had his presentation prepped and ready to go, and Chanyeol was with him to offer support and encouragement.

Sehun had been ready to make the flight.

But he’d known, deep in his gut and in the way that mattered the most, that he was making a mistake.

Luhan wasn’t incapable of handling himself. And in fact, Luhan was more independent than Sehun thought his nerves could take at times. Neither was the pregnancy going badly. Sehun still worried, of course he still worried, but this second pregnancy was nothing like the first. It was going much more smoothly, and Sehun had allowed himself to relax a little over the months.

On top of all of that, their friends were in town. Some were staying longer than others, but all of them would be there for the next couple of days. That meant built in support for Luhan while Sehun was away. And Sehun knew Suho would still be in town, when he got back from Hong Kong.

But it was wrong.

Sehun had sworn, to himself and to Luhan, that he wasn’t going to be the kind of husband and father that some Korean men were forced to become. When he’d taken the offered promotion, he’d sworn on his life that he wasn’t going to drift from his family, and prioritize his work, and go on business trips.

He’d literally sworn to Luhan he wasn’t going to be the man who spent more nights sleeping in his office, than sleeping at home.

Not to mention, no matter how delicate Luhan was not, he had been involved in a car accident. That had rattled Luhan and Sehun equally. Their baby was okay. He was perfectly fine, actually, but the doctors were still advising Luhan to take it easy. Sehun wanted to be there, to rub Luhan’s feet, and make a grocery store run for him at three in the morning when he was craving seaweed ice cream, and pamper him. Sehun wanted to do all the heavy lifting. He wanted to simply be there for anything and everything Luhan needed.

Even six days away from Luhan, after such an accident, felt like far, far too much.

“You okay?” Chanyeol had asked as he buckled himself into place. “It’s not that long of a flight, you know.”

All Sehun could think about, after Luhan, was Youri.

Youri was his most precious treasure. She was what lit up his world like a thousand-watt lightbulb, and it was for her future, that Sehun did everything in his power to provide for her. Whether she wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up, or a beautician, or a pizza deliverer, Sehun was going to be there to support her.

So, the idea that Luhan’s parents were poking around her, made Sehun want to hyperventilate.

He felt so ashamed of himself, willing to leave the country when that was so uncertain. Luhan had already started crafting a formal letter of reply to his parents, hopefully one that would be stern and state unequivocally that they’d never get their hands on Youri. But what if something happened while he was gone?

Luhan’s parents were dirty. They used dirty tactics to get what they wanted, and they weren’t afraid to lie or steal or trick someone along the way. What if Sehun went to Hong Kong, and he came back to something terrible?

What kind of a father was Sehun to take that kind of risk until he knew for sure that Youri was heavily protected?

So he’d said, just one more time, “This is wrong.”

Chanyeol had replied, “You’re really starting to freak me out with that.”

Sehun thought he sure as hell hadn’t seen anything yet.

In a flurry of action, more desperate than anything else, Sehun undid his seatbelt, reached up for his carry on, and stared barging his way off the plane.

“What are you doing?!” Chanyeol shouted after him.

Several flight attendants tried to stop him, hands out, calling to him, “Sir? Sir? You can’t disembark right now. Sir!”

Sehun ignored them all, practically falling out of the plane, onto the ramp that led to the terminal, breathing hard.

He couldn’t go to Hong Kong. What had he been thinking?

No matter what the price he was destined to pay was, nothing was worth abandoning his family during a time of need. Nothing was worth leaving Luhan behind, or Youri.

He was not going to Hong Kong.

With shakings hands, he fumbled for his phone, fingers too big, and feeling far too uncoordinated.

“Sehun!”

Chanyeol pushed his way past the last flight attendant with a red face.

“What the hell are you doing?” Chanyeol demanded.

“I can’t leave,” Sehun said, managing to hit the right button on the phone. He started ambling his way down the ramp to the terminal, ignoring the airport workers who were watching him with wide eyes of shock.

“What do you mean you can’t leave?” Chanyeol asked, going pale and looking as if he were on the verge of a panic attack himself.

As the phone rang, Sehun told Chanyeol sharply, and without compromise, “I don’t care what happens to my job, Chanyeol. I don’t care if they fire me. I’ll work anywhere and do anything to support my family. But I’m not going to leave them behind. I’m not going to spend the next six months flying in and out of the country, when I should be with my family. And I sure as hell am not going to risk missing the birth of my son, selling our project to a picky client in Hong Kong. I’m not, Chanyeol.”

“This is crazy,” Chanyeol said, huffing after him. They broke into the main terminal where their departure gate was. “You’re going to get fired. Oh, god, I’m going to get fired.”

Almost angrily, Sehun told him, “Get back on the plane then.”

“Without you?”

The line clicked over, and Sehun put all of his attention into saying, “This is Oh Sehun. There’s been an issue.”

“Fired,” Chanyeol bemoaned. “I’m going to get fired.”

Twenty minutes later Sehun was sliding into a taxi, Chanyeol behind him, and they were headed back to Seoul.

“You could have gotten back on the plane,” Sehun told him in the taxi. “I didn’t make you come with me.”

“No,” Chanyeol agreed, still hiding his face in his hands. He had been for some time. “But you’re my idiot partner. Where you go, I go, and apparently, that’s to the unemployment line.”

Chanyeol’s loyalty was more that commendable. And Sehun swore in that moment, that if or when they lost their jobs, he’d do his best to get Chanyeol in at any other place in the city, deserving of his talent. And if it was at all possible, Sehun was willing to take all of the blame.

“I couldn’t stay on that plane,” Sehun had said to him once more, desperate for Chanyeol to understand.

And in his own way, Sehun thought he might have.

It was back to Seoul after that, to the room they’d rented out for the party near the Han river, and to an astonished looking Luhan.

Hours later, Sehun was home now. He was back in the house he shared with Luhan, safely tucked away with his husband in their bedroom, a sleeping Youri sprawled out across his lap.

It felt right.

As wrong as leaving had felt, this felt equally as right.

“I thought,” Luhan said quietly, “she was going to burst a blood vessel when she learned that you had to go away.” He was laying propped up on a long pillow that he needed now to sleep comfortably. And while he did look sleepy, he didn’t look close to actually falling asleep. Sehun was glad.

“Yeah,” Sehun said just as softly. “I made a mistake.” He rubbed his hand along Youri’s back, feeling it rise and fall steadily. Her body was half throw over his legs, and her face was mashed into the blankets. He could barely even see her face with the way her hair had fanned out around her, and it was all kinds of adorable.

And to be fair, she had started out in her bedroom. With Luhan watching from the doorway, Sehun had tucked her in, read two full books to her, and then stayed until she started to doze. But twenty minutes after that, with Luhan and Sehun tucked away in their own room, she’d come clambering right up onto their bed, only to fall asleep again.

Sehun was inclined to let her stay through the night, ready to keep her as close as allowed.

“I’m not convinced coming back here, wasn’t the mistake,” Luhan replied.

Feeling confident, Sehun shook his head. “You don’t understand. Sitting on that plane…I knew I couldn’t leave. Staying on it would have been a mistake. God, I could barely breathe sitting there.”

Luhan reached over Youri’s sleeping form to find Sehun’s hand and squeeze it hard. He admitted, “The selfish part of me is glad you’re here.” He sighed. “The realistic part of me wonders how long our savings is going to have to keep us afloat.”

Careful not to jostle Youri too much, Sehun leaned towards Luhan and kissed his brow gently. “I’ll talk to Suho tomorrow morning. First thing. I’ll talk to him about pulling some strings, or cashing in some favors, to get me set up at a new job asap. Don’t worry, I won’t let my mistake affect this family.”

Luhan’s head tilted just enough to the side so they could share a real kiss.

Afterwards, Luhan said, “You know I joke, but we’ve got a pretty decent savings built up. You don’t need to go rushing into a new job, if you even lose the one you have now.”

Snorting loudly, Sehun assured, “Oh, I’m more than confident that I’m going to get called into my boss’s office tomorrow, just so he can scream at me, maybe throw something at me, and then tell me I have fifteen minutes to clean out my office.”

Luhan winced.

“I knew that was coming when I got off that plane,” Sehun said, refusing to back down from the choice he’d made.

Luhan pointed out, “We don’t have to dip into our savings right away, either. Sehun, I’m certainly no Picasso, but my paintings sell well enough. And I’ve got a half dozen of them just sitting around right now. I could sell those to buy us some time, before you go back to work.”

“Luhan,” Sehun stated.

Luhan interrupted quickly, “It would be nice, actually, if you took a break for a short while. I know, I know, you’re a workaholic and you’re at your best when you’re being productive and creative. But I miss having you around. Youri misses you, too. It would be very nice to have more than a couple hours a day with you.”

Sehun swallowed past the lump in his throat to say, “No matter where I work after this, I won’t pull such long hours. I won’t be away on the weekends, and miss all the important stuff.”

Mostly, truthfully, Sehun had gotten off that plane because he wasn’t going to chance missing the birth of his son. He wasn’t going to be employed by anyone who couldn’t respect his need to be there, or his need to take paternity leave before and after the birth.

Sehun had started out with his family being the most precious thing to him, and worth more than anything else in his world, and nothing had changed since then.

Firmly, however, Sehun told Luhan, “You can’t sell your paintings. They’re part of the collection you’re building. You’ve been working on them for the better part of the year, and you said you want to have a show when you’re satisfied with the set. Selling them would ruin everything.”

“Selling them is something I would do in a second, for this family.”

When Sehun kissed him again, this time, there was far more passion in it.

“Let me talk to Suho,” Sehun said by way of compromise. “Just let me talk to him about all of this.”

“Fair enough,” Luhan agreed.

“But no matter what,” Sehun whispered to him. “We do it together.”

Luhan gave him a supportive, loving grin. “Don’t we do our best work that way?”

“Totally.”

Sehun didn’t regret his decision to get off the plane for a second. Not even after more time to think about the consequences of it.

“Does your client know you never made the flight? Did you call him?” Luhan asked. He propped his head up with his hand as he stretched out on his side. “Or is someone in for a big surprise very, very soon?”

Youri fussed a little in her sleep and Sehun rubbed her back a little more firmly, trying to lull her into a deeper sleep.

And when she’d settled down, Sehun told Luhan, “I definitely don’t have a direct line to the guy. But I called his secretary the second I was off the plane. So I’d say by now my very former client knows that the jig is up.”

Frowning, Luhan asked, “What did you say?”

“The truth,” Sehun answered, easily enough. “I asked the secretary to listen very, very carefully, and then I told her the truth. I said that I was passionate about the project, and that I’d put my everything into it. I said I believed in it, and I wanted to make it work. But it also said I had a family that I had to put first. I said I had you, and that it wasn’t willing to risk my son’s arrival, for anything. And I said I had Youri, who was growing up too fast, and who needed me in these important years. I just said the truth. So what happens from here, is entirely out of my hands.”

Luhan tugged Sehun down so they were sharing the same pillow. He bumped their noses and said, “I feel like I don’t tell you how proud I am of you, nearly enough. I tell you how much I love you all the time, but I’m really proud of you, too.”

Sehun questioned, “You’re proud I’m now your out of work husband?”

Luhan’s lips brushed against Sehun’s, and he raised soft fingers to follow the curve of Sehun’s jaw.

“No,” he returned fondly. “I’m proud that you put this family first, no matter what, and love us unconditionally, and are the best father and husband that a person could possibly be.”

Sehun felt such a flare of pride and honor at Luhan’s words.

“I’m only that way because of you,” Sehun insisted.

In her sleep, Youri gave a perfectly timed kick and mumbled about sweet cakes.

“That is definitely your daughter,” Luhan commented.

Sehun smothered down a laugh.

There was still no regret

In the morning, the house was occupying an impressive number of people.

As he and Luhan crept their way steadily down the stairs, still trying to decide whether they were going to fuss with making breakfast, or try and bribe Wei into making a run to a nearby café, Sehun got his first look at the sight of his living room.

“I don’t think any of you live here,” Sehun announced.

Wei, hugging an arm around Xiumin’s shoulders in an easy way, offered up, “Technically? I mean …”

Luhan asked, “What are you all doing here?”

It wasn’t just Wei and Xiumin who were present. Chanyeol was curled up in the seat that reclined, snoring softly no matter the sound that was echoing through the room. And next to him Suho had been huddled in close with Chen, talking about something that had ended the moment Sehun and Luhan had come down the stairs.

Baekhyun came strolling into the living room from the kitchen after that, to announce, “It’s about time you losers woke up. We thought we were going to have to start knocking down walls to get your attention.”

Woozy on his feet, Luhan leaned heavily into Sehun, and he wasted no time getting Luhan situated on a spot on the sofa, before practically dashing into the kitchen for a cup of tea that usually seemed to help with the morning sickness.

When he came back to Luhan with the tea, he could hear Luhan telling Baekhyun, “—think it’s okay if Youri wants to be a little clingy for a while. She was shaken yesterday at the idea of Sehun being gone for around a week. I think … maybe we underestimated how young she really is, and we take for granted how strong she always appears.”

Baekhyun, who could be too sarcastic and defensive, for various reason, had a serious look on his face. He told Luhan, “With a kid like Youri, I can see how that’s easy to forget.”

“Here,” Sehun said, handing the tea over to Luhan. He indulged himself by tucking in close and asking, “You didn’t bring Ahra?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “She and Taeyeon went out to visit her parents today.” He scoffed. “Let my kid have a break from yours, I say, before Youri starts to corrupt her again.”

Sehun rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like Ahra is completely innocent, Baekhyun. I’ve heard her propose some plans for world domination all on her own—there was one such proposition just last week.”

Luhan concurred, “There was something about dinosaurs in there, too. There’s always something about dinosaurs.”

Baekhyun cracked a real smile, and Sehun truly thought too much time often passed between them. Baekhyun had never been the same after Jae’s death, but he was better now than he’d ever been.

“Not that we don’t love you all,” Luhan spoke up. “But what are you doing here?”

Suho cleared his throat and stood to say, “Yesterday was nice. Yesterday was very nice. But we didn’t get you and Sehun together, like we wanted. And while most of our friends are either going back home today, or busy doing other things, we were thinking that maybe those of us here could go out to a meal together.”

Taking the stairs carefully, Youri shouted loudly, “Can we have pancakes, Uncle Suho?!” She took a running leap to him when she was close enough.

Suho caught her without a second thought, taking in her bright yellow tights and spotted pokadott dress that was the furthest from flattering as possible.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Luhan insisted, catching Suho’s gaze. “But we’re letting her be creative. We’re letting her make her own choices and form her own opinions and personality. On the weekends, she can wear whatever she wants.”

“See,” Baekhyun insisted. “This is what I’m talking about. If Ahra starts dressing like this, I’m drawing a line.”

“So?” Xiumin asked. “Are we going to breakfast or not?”

Sehun breathed out a long sigh and turned to Luhan to ask, “Well, I haven’t gotten a call from the office yet, demanding that I get down there so I can be properly fired. Do you want to go out to breakfast with our slightly deranged friends?”

“That is offensive!” Wei called out.

“Pancakes!” Youri cheered.

Luhan nudged Sehun. “You heard our daughter. Pancakes it is.”

“Give us a couple minutes to get dressed,” Luhan requested plucking at his pajama top. “And make some calls just to be sure we don’t leave anyone out.”

“Take your time,” Baekhyun, tossing a cushion from the sofa to Chanyeol. It hit spectacularly on his head, caused Chanyeol to twitch a little, but then his snores continued. “This might take a while.”

While some of their friends were unable to make the meal, Sehun was pleasantly surprised when Lay made it to the café only a couple minutes after the bulk of their group, followed by Kai and Tao. They commandeered a series of tables towards the back of the restaurant, and spent the next hour and a half eating, talking, and clinging to the idea of being together for just a little longer.

When their group began to thin out, Chanyeol leaned close to Sehun and asked, “Do you think we should go down to work? Turn ourselves in?”

Sehun gave him an in credulous look. “Turn ourselves in? We’re not criminals, Chanyeol.”

“I feel like I’m going to the executioner’s block,” Chanyeol replied. “And you’re crazy if you don’t.”

“Well, if I am, I want to enjoy the time I have before then.” Sehun looked back towards Luhan who was wiping down Youri’s syrup sticky hands with baby wipes. She was fussing, already getting to the age where she didn’t want to be babied by her parents, but she was also enduring. He could see the tenseness to her body, but she was letting Luhan fuss, and Sehun was warmed by the sight.

Chanyeol made a snorting sound.

“I’m going to do everything I can to save your job,” Sehun said, swinging back to Chanyeol as he saw Suho approaching. “I want you to believe me when I swear on that. I made the decision to get off the plane. You just followed after me with concern. If I can take all the blame, I will.”

Chanyeol started to protest, “That’s not fair, you shouldn’t—”

“Chanyeol,” Suho said, coming to stand at their side. “Do you mind if I speak with Sehun for a moment?”

Chanyeol put his hands up in surrender. “That’s cool. I’m heading home, anyway. Sehun, I’ll see you when we get the call.”

“Remember what I said,” Sehun called after him. “It’s a promise.”

Suho gave him a comforting look and said, “Wei is going to spend the afternoon with Xiumin. So I think it would be best if we spoke about your options. Can you and Luhan spare a couple hours for me?”

As much of an inevitability as it was, Sehun wanted to put it off. He didn’t want to face the reality of what was coming next, no matter how prepared he was to own up to his choices.

“What about Emily?” he asked. “I actually haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

Suho put a hand on Sehun’s shoulder and said, “She’s getting to know my parents little better. Trust me, it’s her turn now. I suffered that awkwardness with her parents last year—twice over because they’re divorced and living in different parts of the country, and now she gets the pleasure of handling mine.”

“Your mom is really nice, though,” Sehun defended.

“I’m not worried about my parents making her cry or anything,” Suho laughed out. “But mom can be intense, and you know that. Especially since… since …” There was a sudden sadness to Suho’s face before he managed to get out, “Since I’m the only son now, and she knows the only grandchildren she has, will come from me. It’s not like I’ve been keeping how serious my relationship with Emily is from her, either.”

Sometimes Sehun let himself forget about that.

“Anyway,” Suho said, shaking himself back into focus. “I wouldn’t have left Emily with my parents if I thought it was going to go badly.”

“No,” Sehun agreed. Then he proposed, “Let me go grab Luhan and we’ll head back home.”

Luhan was chatting with Chen when Sehun approached him, touching his elbow to turn him.

“Time to go?” Luhan asked, brushing a deliberate kiss to Sehun’s cheek.

“Pretty much,” Sehun confirmed. He looked to Chen and asked, “Mind if we get out of here? You’re going to be in town for a couple more days at the very least, right? If my entire world hasn’t come crashing down by then, I want to treat you to lunch. Tomorrow maybe?”

There was an odd, distracted look to Chen’s face as he said, “Ah, maybe not tomorrow.”

“Busy?” Sehun asked, surprised. It wasn’t as if Chen really had any family left in Seoul. Not like Suho who’d already spend the better part of his time in town being smothered to death by relatives who still hadn’t forgiven him for moving so far away.

“Not sure yet,” Chen said, and then he gave a subtle nod to the door. “I’m kind of hoping yes.”

Sehun pivoted, and when he caught sight of the door, it was just in time to see Eunji come through it. She was looking around in an anxious way.

“Chen?” Sehun wondered. “What’s she doing here?”

Chen gave him a lofty look. “This guy that I pretty much trust, despite how clueless he can be at times, told me to give the love of my life a call and just talk to her. I took his suggestion to heart, actually.”

“And,” Luhan said in an awed, hopeful way, “she came here.”

Chen ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous tick, and then said, “Excuse me, guys. That’s my wife over there.”

Sehun watched how Chen cut through the crowd, making his way towards Eunji. And when he reached her, there was a brief, quiet passage of words between the two of them before they were leaving.

Luhan asked, “You told Chen to call her?”

Sehun nodded. “It’s been my experience in life that every time people who love each other, and trust each other, and are invested in each other, don’t communicate, it always ends badly. I told him what’s the worst that could happen? They break up? They divorce? Isn’t anything worth the chance to save a marriage with someone you love?”

Luhan’s hand found Sehun’s and their fingers slid together. “You constantly impress me, you know.”

“My husband taught me well,” Sehun returned with a laugh. He slid is hand across Luhan’s stomach, felt their baby kick, and then dipped in for a fiery kiss.

An hour later Suho passed a standard, white, absolutely normal looking business card to Sehun.

“What’s this?” Sehun asked, turning the card at a better angle to read the writing on it. Luhan leaned a little too, to make out the label on the card.

The house was empty and quiet save for the three of them, with Wei preoccupied with Xiumin, and Youri at a play date with a friend who lived a couple of blocks away.

“That’s the card of Choi Younghee. He’s an old friend—very old, we went to high school together, and then college. We’ve had a lengthy friendship.”

Sehun looked again at the card, as if it would reveal its purpose to him with a stern enough expression.

“He’s an associate at a bank?” Luhan asked.

“It’s an investment banking firm,” Suho clarified, “that he and his family have had a significant hand in building up over the past three generations. Choi owes me a favor, and a big one at that. It’s his secret to keep, but I covered for him once, which kept him from being kicked out of the university we attended together, over a serious infraction. He owes a lot to me, you could argue.”

Sehun repeated, “Investment banking.”

“I don’t think you should jump the gun just yet,” Suho advised, “but if you do end up losing your job, I want you to call that number on the card there. Tell Choi’s secretary your name, and she’ll set you up with a standard job interview. You’ll have a job by the end of the week, I promise you.”

Brows furrowed, Sehun protested, “I don’t know anything about banking. I’m in advertising and graphic design.”

“I suppose not,” Suho agreed. “But you’re exceptionally skilled at talking people into things. That’s most of what being an investment banker is. You have a way of making people believe in what you’re selling them, and that’s invaluable in the world of personal finance.”

Sehun sighed.

Suho urged, “Just give it a try, okay? If this doesn’t work out, or you hate it, I’ll help you find something else. I’m not going to let you and your family fall on hard times. You know that. This isn’t just your family—your husband and your children—this is our family.”

Without a doubt, Sehun did know that. Of course, he did. Suho was too much of a damn hero, too good hearted, too kind, and just too much of a good person, to allow anything of that sort to happen.

But…

“I hate the idea of you getting me a job like this,” Sehun huffed out.

Suho wondered, “Do you like the idea of being broke, more? Especially with a new baby on the way?”

Luhan intercepted whatever Sehun might have said next, to impart, “Thank you, Suho. You’re very generous.”

Suho shrugged. “Family is family, right?” A grin spread out on his face. “Even though you weren’t willing to name your son after me, I’m not going to take offense to that. I’ll forgive you.”

Sehun scoffed loudly, palming a hand to the swell of his son in Luhan’s stomach. “He’s Jae’s namesake in part. Did you want us to sneak your name in there instead?”

Slowly, Suho shook his head, a fondness for the situation playing out on his face. “Nah. Don’t worry, Sehun, Luhan, I think your son’s name is perfect. I think it’s just right in every way. Jae would be … he …” Suho needed a second to compose himself, before finishing, “Thank you for honoring my brother.”

Luhan beamed, and Sehun tugged Suho into a tight hug.

Sehun got the call later that night. He and Luhan and Wei and Xiumin were all wedged into the kitchen, trying to coordinate the preparation of the dinner meal for that night, and Youri was seated nearby on the countertop, cookbook open in front of her, legs swinging underneath her.

“Red bean paste?” Luhan had said in confusion when the phone rang. “Was that on the list I sent you earlier, Xiumin?”

His boss’s secretary was very clear and directly to the point when she said that Sehun needed to be in the office in half an hour. There was no room for disobedience.

“Go,” Luhan urged when Sehun told him about the call. He slipped Sehun’s apron over his head. “Go now. And if you want to keep that job of yours, if you love it, you go and you fight for it.”

“Not everything can be fought for,” Sehun protested.

“You can try with anything,” Luhan protested.

Taking a deep breath, Sehun nodded. He wasn’t going to move on his stance. He wasn’t going to put the job before Luhan and Youri and Kyungjae. If his boss was going to tell him that he had to risk missing the most important moments with them, then Sehun was willing to risk investment banking instead.

“Good luck!” Luhan called after him, and Sehun wished he felt half as reassured as Luhan was trying to make him.

Chanyeol was already at the office when Sehun got there. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet almost in a ridiculous way, standing in a line with several other people they worked with. And Sehun’s boss was at the head of the line. It was all disconcerting. Had they all gathered to bear witness to his firing?

“Oh,” his boss said tightly, with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Sehun slowed to a stop, not sure what to think of it all. “What’s going on?” He looked to Chanyeol specifically, trying to hunt down a hint of it in his body language or facial expression. But Chanyeol was a mixture of so much Sehun didn’t know what he was really looking at in the end.

Sehun’s boss pointed down the hall, down to where Sehun’s office was located. And then, in a direct fashion, said, “Go to your office.”

Sehun’s mouth went dry. Go to his office? To pack his things? Wasn’t there going to be a half an hour session of yelling in his boss’s office first? Sehun didn’t know if skipping something like that was him getting off easy or not.

“Go now,” his boss said again, so Sehun went.

There was someone in his office. Sehun realized that the second he was close enough to see through the glass door. Someone was standing in his office, with his back to the door, looking at the accolades and pictures that Sehun had up on the wall.

“Can I help you?” Sehun asked slowly, slipping into the office and closing the door behind him. He pulled the blinds on the door when he noticed the hysterically large group of people who’d amassed in the hallway.

The man, in a dark blue and impeccably styled suit, turned at the words.

And Sehun realized who he was

Feng Xiao.

Feng Xiao was standing in his office. The client. The client whose investment in a new development property in Hong Kong was set to make the company Sehun worked for millions and millions.

It was such an unfathomable thing that Sehun had to lean back on his door

Feng thumbed towards a picture on the wall and asked in perfect Korean, only slightly accented, “This is your family?”

Sehun gave a shallow nod. It was a picture that had been taken in the hospital just after Youri’s birth, and it was an absolute favorite of Sehun’s. Luhan was still so tired in the photo, only a day out from his surgery, but there was joy and love and utter dedication on his face as he held Youri, with Sehun hovering next to him on the bed, and Suho, Chen, Baekhyun, and several others all packed into the picture. “My husband, our daughter, and our best friends.”

Feng gave a pensive nod.

“Sir?” Sehun asked, and now it made so much sense as to why the whole office was practically stunned. In no instance had anyone come close to predicting that their incredibly busy, very high profile client, would fly all the way to Seoul to see any of them in person.

Sehun half wondered if he was dreaming. He snuck a pinch to the inside of his arm.

“You make a very beautiful family,” Feng commended, his attention visibly passing from one picture to the next, eyes settling on a more recent one, where Sehun and Luhan had been attempting to teach Youri how to ride a bike. She was maybe a little too young yet, but she’d claimed she wanted to learn, and Baekhyun had snapped the picture.

“They are everything to me,” Sehun found the courage to say.

Feng made a discerning sound.

“Sir? Sir, can I ask what you’re here for? Can I help you in some way?”

Hands tucked behind his back, Feng’s attention finally went wholly back to Sehun, and he said, “I wondered, Oh, after you fought to win my approval on our project, what would be important enough for you to throw it all away over.”

Sehun’s knees locked up.

“Imagine my surprise when my secretary notified me that you had told her you removed yourself from the plane, and would not be where you were expected to show up.”

Now it wasn’t that Sehun couldn’t find the right words, it was more that he couldn’t find any words.

“So tell me,” Feng pressed, “tell me, Oh Sehun. Tell me what you told my secretary.”

“I …” Sehun started, then he stopped abruptly. He steeled himself instead of talking. Luhan and their children were the most important thing. They were his focus, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. He was already going to lose his job. There wasn’t anything else that anyone could do to him. And at the end of the night, he was still going home to the family he’d fought tooth and nail for.

Feng raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“I got off that plane,” Sehun said, taking a sturdy step forward, “because I knew it was the right thing to do.”

“How so?”

Sehun told him with conviction, “The truth is, I was very frustrated working on your project. I felt like nothing I was submitting to you was good enough. I almost gave up. But my husband constantly pushed me. He believed in me. He sacrificed so much to support me. And then you were finally satisfied with something I put my everything into. Sir, I love what Park Chanyeol and I put together for you. I believe in its quality. I believe in what we can accomplish with it.”

Snappishly, Feng pushed, “You haven’t answered my question, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun gave a sturdy nod. “The truth is, I got off that plane because I love my husband much more than I care about your project. I got off that plane because this project was asking me to sacrifice time that I had promised to my husband as he moves into the last months of his pregnancy. I got off the plane because I wasn’t willing to risk my son being born without me there, or reading to my daughter at night, or falling asleep next to my husband. I got off the plane and gave up everything with you because nothing with ever be as important to me as they are, and that’s the truth.”

There was no tell on Feng’s face. There was no emotion at all.

Sehun tried, “Chanyeol put his everything into this project too, sir. He knows it in and out, and he’s amazingly good at his job. Please, don’t punish him because of a choice I chose to make. Park Chanyeol can make your expectations come to life. He can deliver.”

Sharply, Feng said, “I asked you to deliver.”

“I know,” Sehun returned. “But I’m not going to go out of the country frequently with my husband set to deliver in a couple of months. And I’m not going risk missing my son’s birth.”

In a curious way, Feng asked, “You would give this all up for that?”

Sehun couldn’t help scoffing a little. “For the people that motivate me to get up each morning, and whose existence alone gets me through the day? Yes, sir. I would give everything up for them. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Yes.”

The corners of Feng’s mouth turned upward, much to Sehun’s confusion.

Then Feng said, “Good.”

“Good?” Sehun felt dizzy all the sudden.

Feng repeated, “Good. You are a man of conviction. Of standards. Of morals. I can use that.”

Shakily, Sehun repeated, “I can’t go out of the country right now. I can’t go out of the country for some time, not until my son is a little older.” It wasn’t like he was just waiting for the baby to be born. Sehun had both a want and a responsibility to be there in those first few months that were always the most rough. Especially because he and Luhan hadn’t been living together when Youri had first been born. Now they had a chance to endure those first months with a newborn together. “I can’t give your project the attention that it deserves.”

Feng laughed then and questioned, “Do you think the development in Hong Kong is the only project I have?”

Sehun shrugged.

Feng seated himself on Sehun’s sofa, ing his jacket and getting settled in.

“Park can take over the project you were previously on,” Feng decided. “For you, I have something else in mind. My sister-in-law recently purchased property in Boryeong. She has grand plans, but no hand to stir the ship. You seem capable, Oh Sehun. I’ll refer you to her for the initial planning.”

Sehun’s eyes widened, probably in a hilarious way. “You … you want to ... you’re not firing me?”

Feng said flippantly, “The land was only recently purchased and construction has yet to begin. It’ll be nine to twelve months before we’ll be ready to employ your marketing and design skills. Is that an adequate amount of time to prep for this size of an undertaking?”

Feng was holding out his hand then.

Sehun practically fell over himself to shake it. In a year his son would be far from a new born. Luhan would be back to his painting. And Boryeon wasn’t too far away. He could take the train, even, if he wanted to. There’d be no flying out of the country and staying away for far too long.

“Thank you,” Sehun breathed out, trying not to burst into tears. “Thank you for this chance, sir.”

Feng regarded him for a second, then admitted, “You’re an admirable man, Oh Sehun. Never lose that part of you.”

“No, sir,” Sehun agreed readily.

Waving a hand, Feng ordered, “Well, get Park in here. I didn’t come all the way to Seoul just to test your character. Let’s see if he’s worth his weight, like you are.”

Chest swelling with hope, Sehun hurried to do so.