Sehun felt like a coward. It was a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he absolutely hated it. He thought he was done with being a coward. He thought he’d worked past the self-deprecation long ago.

But here he was, keeping secrets rather than talking about them, worrying, and shutting Luhan out.

He knew he was shutting Luhan out, and that was beyond unacceptable. But he just couldn’t bring himself to explore the alternative. He couldn’t tell Luhan the kinds of demands his job was suddenly making on him. He couldn’t admit that he was going to miss so much of Luhan’s pregnancy, and potentially the birth of their son.

And he was. He absolutely was. Because the alternative was losing his job, and then where would his family be?

It was an absolutely terrible situation he’d gotten himself into. He’d been so obsessed with locking in the contract deal for his marketing firm, and producing a plan that the client liked, that he’d hardly stopped to think about what getting what he wanted would entail. He’d been living in a fantasy world, for the most part, and had spent months being short sighted.

It was all coming down on him now.

So here he was, being a coward, avoiding Luhan, punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault, and doing it all because Sehun was a big coward.

His cowardice wasn’t something he could maintain for very long, either. He was going to have to say something before the weekend when the party was scheduled to take place. Because when it was happening, an event that Luhan had planned for, for well over a year, and practically leapt through hoops to get everyone to attend, Sehun was going to be on an airplane, flying to Hong Kong for a business meeting.

How Luhan was going to react to all of it didn’t really matter in the end. Because regardless of what that reaction was, Sehun would be skipping out on him, and that was something he’d vowed never to do. Not again. Not after getting himself together for the sake of Youri.

And he’d seen it that morning, when he’d tried to get out the door before Luhan got downstairs. He’d seen it on Luhan’s face when Sehun had told him not to wait up, and that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Sehun had seen the concern, the worry, and then the hurt.

Sehun felt like scum for that, and it was worse than the cowardice.

The truth of it was, too, that he hadn’t even gone to work. He’d never even made it to the office. Instead he’d gotten in his car, driven halfway across Seoul, and parked. He was still sitting where he’d parked hours ago, desperately trying to brainstorm a way out of the mess, hoping again hope that there was an answer somewhere.

Maybe Chanyeol could do some of the overseas visits in lieu of Sehun. Maybe the whole project could just be passed to a different design team and Sehun would just take a demotion. Maybe Luhan and Youri could come with Sehun on some of the trips, and make it a family thing.

Maybe.

Maybe.

There had to be a valid maybe out there. There had to be something.

Once more Sehun’s phone buzzed. After the third call from Chanyeol, and one from the office, Sehun had set his phone to vibrate and tossed it down on the seat next to him. The time was nearing lunch now and Chanyeol hadn’t tried to pester him for some time.

Sehun let the call go to voicemail.

But then the phone buzzed again, and now Sehun reached for it, not sure at all that it was Chanyeol. Chanyeol, for as dense as he could be at times, was pretty good at picking up on when Sehun wanted to be left alone. Yet here was the phone ringing again, so either there was an emergency at work, or it wasn’t Chanyeol calling.

It was the second of the two options, and Sehun answered the call right away, on instinct alone, when he saw Suho’s name flashing.

“Hi,” Sehun breathed out, trying to sound as normal as possible. Suho had a nose like a greyhound or picking up when Sehun was in distress of any kind. “How are you?”

There was all kinds of background noise on Suho’s end of the line, but eventually his former brother-in-law answered back, “Hey, Sehun. I’m fine. How are you?”

It took a moment for Sehun to realize that in the brief time that he’d had Suho on the phone, his whole demeaner had changed. He was slunk lower in his seat now, more relaxed than before, and there was less tension in his body. Suho had done that.

Suho always did that. Suho was a natural calming force. That didn’t mean that Suho couldn’t be a hurricane if need be, but for the most part, Suho was more like a white noise machine. Suho moved with fluidity, and spoke in an even tone that was perpetually calm. Suho was sturdy and empathetic, and just had a restful disposition. Suho was the kind of rock that Sehun had needed to lean on more than once in his life, and he was reacting subconsciously to that even now.

“I’m fine,” Sehun forced himself to say in his own steady way. “Just … you know, getting some work done.”

“Not working too hard, I hope,” Suho laughed out. “But I trust Luhan to grab you by the ear and reign you in if need be.”

Oh, Sehun was just feeling the extra guilt pile up.

“Where are you?” Sehun asked, making out the sound of a PA system saying something in English.

“Really,” Suho asked with a gentle snort. “You’re asking where I am? You know today is Tuesday, right?”

That was a somber reminder to Sehun of their distance, and he said, “It’s Wednesday here in Seoul.”

For three years now, three long years, Suho had worked and lived in America. And though Suho had some minor gripes about America, mostly the driving and the food, he was flourishing. Sehun tried his absolute best not to be petty or jealous, and wish only the best in Suho. The man was climbing up the corporate ladder at an amazing rate, was nearly fluent in English now, and had himself put together in a way that Sehun could only hope to come close to one day. Suho had new, American friends, and wrote emails about going to the theater, and how he was starting a vintage wine collection. Suho had a brand new, completely separate life in New York, and most of all, he was happy.

Sehun, truthfully, was still not over losing Suho to America. Most days Sehun was able to block it out, or make himself forget. But on others, all he could think about was how Suho had done so much for him, and cultivated such a lasting relationship. Before Luhan, there had only been Suho who Sehun was willing to let in, and in many, many ways, Suho had saved Sehun from ending it all.

Suho had a natural way of simply understanding Sehun. Suho knew Sehun’s soul, and he was the kind of person that Sehun could sit in silence with for hours at a time, and not feel an ounce of uncomfortableness.

Suho gave the best kind of advice, and pushed Sehun towards endurance and perserverence, and greatness.

Luhan was most certainly the love of his life, and Chen was Sehun’s best friend. But Suho was in a league all his own.

And Suho had been a missing spot in Sehn’s life for so long it was still like an open wound. More than once Sehun had needed him for something important. But it wasn’t fair to pull Suho away from living his own life in America. It wasn’t fair to be selfish like that.

Plus, it was true that Suho visited as frequently as possible. He always came around for the holidays and spoiled Youri absolutely rotten. He always defended it as her birthday practically being on Christmas, but secretly Sehun knew he just liked vying for the spot of being Youri’s favorite uncle.

Not to mention, Luhan and Sehun had taken Youri, just after her second birthday, to go visit Suho in New York. For almost three weeks, an absurd amount of time, really, Suho had shown them around every touristy area know to New York, New York. They’d had their meals together in fancy resutrants, and Suho had taken them to the Statue of Liberty, and they’d ridden around in a big, doubt decker buss for almost an entire day to see some of the sights.

It was just enough to keep Sehun sane. But it wasn’t lost on him how much he needed those moments to feel that way. Luhan was every bit the future, and it was a future that Sehun desperately wanted and cling to. But Suho was the past, and Sehun was nothing without his past.

Sehun really hoped that Suho never really figured out how desperately clingy Suho was. He’d never live it down.

“You’re at the airport,” Sehun breathed out. He’d forgotten. Of course he’d forgotten. Tuesday for Suho, and Wednesday for Sehun, Suho was set to fly out to come to Seoul for the gathering. The tickets had been purchased months ago and everyone had been talking about it nonstop for some time.

The date was written on the calendar in the kitchen at home, in red and circled.

How Sehun could have forgotten was unforgivable.

“You forgot,” Suho said in a humorous way. “Now I know you really are working too hard.”

Sehun let himself lean forward and he thumped his head on the steering wheel.

He had forgotten that Sehun was coming so quickly. By the following morning, after Suho’s layover, his plane would be getting into Seoul. And while Sehun knew that Suho had plans to go visit his parents, and see Jae’s grave, right after that, Suho would be coming to visit with Luhan and Sehun.

He wasn’t planning on staying with them, as the house he owned in Seoul was sitting vacant and would do in a pinch, but he’d be spending an enormous amount of time with them.

Suho’s nose would sniff the problem out in a second.

And god help Sehun when that happened, because Suho was exceptionally good at getting down to the root of a problem. And Suho was absoluterly going to take Luhan’s side and be offended for him if necessary. Once and only once Suho had made the wrong call with Luhan, and it had haunted him ever since.

Sehun had heard a private conversation between Luhan and Suho once. Sehun had been up in the nursery with a fussy Youri who was teething and running a low-grade fever from it. The baby monitor had been open both ways, and Sehun had been able to hear it all.

Suho had said, “What I did to you, Luhan, it still makes my skin crawl. I was prematurely judgmental, and I hurt you for it. I disregarded everything I knew about you, to think you were the villain, and I’m more than just disappointed with myself. I’m sickened.”

“I’ve forgiven you,” Luhan had replied. “But you’re like Sehun. You can’t forgive yourself.”

“Sometimes you forgive too easily.”

That was Luhan in a nutshell.

And Luhan had surprised Sehun then, with Youri drooling into his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching at his shirt, when he said, “I think there’s certainly a difference between forgetting and forgiving. I forgive you because we’re family, Suho. For as dysfunctional as we all are, and the mistakes we make, we’re all just family, and family forgives.”

Suho had laughed then, in a lighter way, and said, “But you won’t forget.”

“Someday,” Luhan had decided. “Years from now, when I trust that you won’t ever think that I am deliberately going to hurt Sehun. But you’re right. For now, I remember.”

If Luhan and Suho ever had another conversation on the matter, Sehun hadn’t been privy to it.

“Listen,” Suho said now, the PA system in the background going off again. “My plane is delayed a couple hours, but I’ll still make my connection and lay over. Don’t come get me in the morning, okay? I already talked to my parents and they want to be the ones to pick me up from the airport.”

“Got it.”

Suho continued, “I promised to have breakfast with them like a good, dutiful son, but afterwards I thought I’d come up and see you guys. I know Luhan and Youri will be at home in the afternoon, but how about you? Can you sneak away from work for a couple of hours? Or leave a little early? I know you’re working on that big case of yours, and I love my parents, but you and Luhan and Youri are the ones that mean the most to me.”

Sehun’s heart nearly beat right out of his chest.

“This,” Sehun breathed out, “this means a lot to us, that you’re coming out here just for a get together. We know you’re busy.”

Suho assured right away, “I’m excited to see everyone one again. People drift naturally. It’s nice to let a force like Luhan pull us all back together.”

Sehun hummed his agreement.

A half second later Suho pressed, “So can you do it? Can you be there in the afternoon when I swing by your place?”

Sehun wanted to throw his phone into the Han river. Not going into work today had been an option. But he had to be there tomorrow. He and Chanyeol had to work out their travel schedule, and get their things put together for the presentation they were expected to give to their client on Saturday. They’d need at least a couple days to do it, and Sehun thought even that would be cutting it close.

“I …” Sehun didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t just lie … but he couldn’t tell the truth either. So he settled for saying, “I’m going to do my best to get away for a couple hours, okay? No promises, but it looks good.”

That seemed to satisfy Suho enough.

“Are you excited to come back?” Sehun asked. He always asked the question, keeping his fingers crossed that Suho’s answer never changed.

It hadn’t changed this time, either.

Suho said, “Of course I am. I can’t wait to get back onto Korean soil. Mmmmm, the food.”

“We had some pretty amazing food the last time Luhan and I were in New York,” Sehun pointed out.

“True,” Suho allowed. “But there’s no substitute for Korean food. There’s nothing like it on the planet. Sehun?”

“Yeah?”

“My mom asked something. She wants to pass it along to you, she’s just worried she might … ruffle some feathers.”

“Ruffle feathers? Why would she think that? She can ask me anything.” Sehun didn’t have the close relationship with Suho and Jae’s parents that he once had, and for obvious reasons, but they still had a good one. Usually once a month Sehun would go to church with them, and they’d even been up to visit Jae’s grave a couple of times. It was important to him that they stayed in his life, no matter how painful of a remind they could be at times.

“You know mom,” Suho said, and Sehun could imagine him shrugging. “She wants to have a family dinner. A close family dinner.”

Sehun frowned. “Okay …”

“Without Luhan.”

That was what Suho had meant about ruffling feathers.

Suho rushed to day, “You know she and my father think Luhan is lovely, and they’ve met Youri a couple of times. They’re so happy for you, Sehun. They think you’re so blessed to have Luhan. But they’ve asked me to see if you’d be willing to come to dinner with just us. She doesn’t want to exclude Luhan and Youri in a malicious way, but she wants to … I don’t know, have a piece of the past back. She just wants to pretend for a second, I think.”

“I don’t know …”

“If you don’t want to, I understand,” Suho said easily enough, like it wasn’t a slight in the least. “I think my parents are just lonely. They’re over the grief of losing Jae, and now they’re just lonely.”

That, Sehun understood.

For as close as Suho was with his parents, Jae had been infinitely more. He’d certainly been their baby in every way, and that had reflected on the relationship they’d had. Jae had spent a lot of his free time at his parent’s home, and aside from going to church with them every Sunday, he’d also been involved in many community based activities with them. Sehun had never really stopped to think about it, but Jae dying had probably created a huge void in their lives that went beyond a personal loss.

Maybe they were just lonely.

“I’ll talk to Luhan about this,” Sehun said, and he could have laughed at himself over it. He couldn’t even talk to Luhan about the smallest of things right now. “But I guess tentatively, knowing Luhan, you can tell your parents its fine.”

Suho had told Luhan years ago that he forgave too easily. Sehun thought Luhan was too kind, sometimes.

Luhan was the kind of person who could get eaten up by the world so easily, if there was too little care.

And that wasn’t something Sehun could let happen. Especially if he was the cause.

“I’ve got to go,” Sehun told Suho, reaching to turn the key in his car. He wasn’t getting anything done sitting in his own self-pity, going over the facts from only his perspective. He needed someone else to bounce ideas off, and give him real feedback. He needed help, he needed a test run, and he needed to get it right before he brought his trouble to Luhan.

He needed Chen.

“It’s well enough,” Suho said. “I’m hungry. I think I’ll go grab something to eat before my flight. I’ll see you in a short while, okay. Tell Luhan I’ll see him tomorrow afternoon, and give Youri my love.”

Sehun snorted, “Any more love and she’s liable to explode from it.”

“Oh, Sehun,” Suho scoffed, “you should be so thankful for me being the best uncle in the world. I keep Youri supplied in affection and toys so you can Luhan can focus on that new baby of yours.”

“Who,” Sehun guessed, “you’ll spoil to death, too.”

“He is going to be a token of honor for my family, isn’t he?”

Sehun said a little snappishly, “Goodbye, Suho. Have a safe flight.”

“See you soon.”

After the call had ended, Sehun looked down at the phone. Suho had given so much to Sehun, and to Luhan. He’d sacrificed time and effort, and a dozen other things. Even if Sehun hadn’t owed it to Luhan to get his mess worked out, he certainly owed it to Suho.

So that took him back to Chen.

Putting the car in reverse, Sehun pulled out of his parking spot. Of course, there was no guarantee that Chen would be able to help with anything. But Chen could probably give him the courage and support he needed to sit down with Luhan and be honest.

That was how he found himself standing in front of Xiumin’s door just after the noon hour, pushing the doorbell. Xiumin was certain to be at work, he worked all kinds of crazy hours and practical slept at that clinic of his, but Sehun was hoping for different with Chen. He had his fingers crossed that Chen hadn’t slipped out for anything, and wasn’t visiting friends just yet.

Sehun had some kind of luck, because after a minute or so of waiting, the door opened and Chen looked at him with an expression of surprise.

“Sehun?”

All of the sudden Sehun felt like crying. Because all he could see was his best friend, and someone that he trusted, who’s help he needed.

“What’s wrong?” Chen asked, stepping out of the house and towards Sehun.

“Can I talk to you?” Sehun managed.

Chen reached out to wrap his fingers around Sehun’s wrist. He didn’t say anything, he merely tugged Sehun into the house.

Familiar with Xiumin’s exceptionally neat home, Sehun waited in the living room as Chen made them tea. And then could barely bring himself to drag his eyes from his laced fingers when Chen set the cups down on the living table.

Chen didn’t push. He didn’t speak. He merely sat across from Sehun and waited.

It was the mark of a great best friend.

“I messed up,” Sehun finally had the courage to say. “I took on more than I could handle. I misjudged something. I made a mistake. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Chen sipped at his tea, then requested, “Tell me.”

With some flush of pride, and pure, unadulterated love, Sehun reminded, “Luhan and I, we’re pregnant. We’re finally having that second baby we talked about.”

Chen chuckled and pointed out, “I’m pretty sure Luhan is the one physically having the baby, but yes, I’m aware of your impending fatherhood. Even though you still won’t tell me what you’re naming him, I forgive you.”

That forced a small smile onto Sehun’s face, at least until he said, “I want so much for my family, Sehun. My parents, they weren’t together when I was growing up, but I never wanted for anything. I was always provided for. No matter what class I wanted to take, hobby I wanted to learn, or place I wanted to visit, my family had the means. I’m the man I am today because I was able to get out there and do things and experience life. I won’t have any less for Youri and the new baby.”

“Fair enough,” Chen agreed. “Where does the mistake come into play? You make good money, and when Luhan gets the right inspiration and paints, he sells well.”

“I make enough for a family of three,” Sehun corrected. “I make enough for Youri to live the life she deserves, but do you know how much kids actually cost? It took years for Luhan and I to agree we were at the right place for a new baby, and god willing, we’ll have another one after this. I knew I needed more—money that is.”

It wasn’t just his family depending on him financially, either, that had really pushed at him. Sehun was driven. He was ambitious. He wanted to move higher in the company because his pride demanding it, and because he knew he was capable of it. He wanted the promotion to prove he could get it, maybe even more than he’d thought he needed it.

“You didn’t get in bed with the mafia or something, did you?” Chen questioned.

Sehun ignored that, and instead said, “Then my boss brought me in on a deal—the biggest deal the company has ever been up for. He put it on my shoulders to win the client over, and that’s what I’ve been doing for months now. I’ve been stressing, and worrying, and doubting myself. I told my boss I could win the contract. I told my boss I was worth the promotion and the cash advance. I assured everyone.”

Chen winced. “And you didn’t?”

Sehun snorted. “The opposite.”

There was such intensity in the room as Chen looked at him oddly. “So, you scored the big deal. What’s the problem?”

Fingers dragging up into his hair, Sehun said quickly, “All I could think about was the money, and the contract, the prestige, and what it would mean. I thought that if I got the client and locked him in, all my problems would be over. I thought it was a good thing. I really thought.” He let his chin hit his chest as he hung his head low.

What kind of fool was he, stumbling into something without thinking it through?

“The client,” Sehun said with a raspy, worn voice, “he’s based out of Hong Kong. He does his business there, and he’s not the one who’ll be flying out to our meetings. I have to go to him.”

“And you,” Chen guessed, “are worried about leaving Luhan during his pregnancy?”

“You don’t understand,” Sehun stressed out. “This isn’t going to be one-time thing, or even a four or five-time thing. This contract is going to take at least six months to fulfill. Starting Saturday.”

Slowly, Chen pointed out, “The party is Saturday.”

“It’s not just about leaving while Luhan is pregnant,” Sehun continued. “If the dates work out the way I think they will, oh god, Chen, I’ll probably miss the birth of my son.”

Chen sat back in his chair. “Well, .”

This time around, Sehun’s nerves were less frayed, but he needed to be there when Luhan went into the operating room. He needed to hold his hand, and kiss him, and reassure both himself and Luhan that everything was going to be fine.

Then he needed to wait the time out, surrounded by supportive friends and family, all he while the worst-case scenarios ran wild though his imagination.

He absolutely needed to be the first person to hold his son after the delivery, and revel in the magnificence of his birth, and whisper to him how much he was loved and wanted.

“Can’t you—” Chen started.

Sehun shook his head right away. “My boss was very clear. This is my job. This is my responsibility. If I don’t do this … if I let this deal fall through.”

His boss hadn’t explicitly said it, but Sehun was sure he was fired if he ruined the deal, and all he needed to do in order for that to happen, was not be in Hong Kong when he was expected to be.

“So, this is where I’m at,” Sehun huffed out, not even frustrated anymore, not just exhausted. “If I do my job, the thing Luhan and I sacrificed so much for, I’ll be letting my family down. And if I don’t? How can Luhan and I survive, with two children—one of them a brand-new baby, if I get walking papers?”

Chen insisted, “You’re an amazing graphic artist, Sehun. If you lose your job, another opportunity will come along.”

Sehun demanded, “But how long will that take? And do you really think my boss isn’t going to get me blacklisted? You think he isn’t going to spread the word around that I was unprofessional?”

“Unprofessional,” Chen scoffed.

“It will be,” Sehun said bluntly. “To put my family before my job, would be unprofessional, no matter how backwards that sounds to us, because I agreed to this. I gave my word. And I secured the deal. It’s my responsibility to follow through.”

Heaviness in his tone, Chen wondered, “What did Luhan have to say about all of this?

Sehun gave him a withered look.

Chen’s eyes widened. “You stupid, stupid idiot, Sehun.”

Sehun exploded, “How could I tell him? How could I say that I asked him to give up so much—asked Youri to give up so much, only so in the end, I could leave them behind?”

“You’re not leaving them behind.”

“I’ll be gone,” Sehun argued, “During some of the most important months. I’ll risk missing my husband give birth to our son. And you’re telling me that’s not leaving them behind?” He pulled a bit at his hair. “There’s no win here, Chen. There’s no way out that I can see, either. There’s just my stupidity, rushing into something I didn’t think through. And now my family has to pay the price.”

Chen tried, “Luhan will understand.”

“I don’t want Luhan to understand!” Sehun regretted yelling right away, but it had just burst out of him. He followed in a much more subdued way, “I don’t want that for Luhan, Chen. I don’t want him to give more for me, and be okay with not being there. That’s beyond not okay, and I’m scared he’ll say go. I’m scared he will understand, because you know how Luhan is, and you know what he’ll do for someone he loves.”

There was pity on Chen’s face now, and Sehun hated it.

“How can you keep this from him?” Chen questioned. “Sehun, the party is Saturday.”

“And I’m supposed to be sitting on a plane when it’s happening. I know.” He grit his teeth. “Also, I’ve kind of been … avoiding Luhan.”

“I’m starting to understand why Suho would hit you over the back of the head so often,” Chen observed, and he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “You can’t avoid your husband, Sehun.”

“I know.”

“And you’re for trying.”

Sehun ground out, “Yes, Chen. I know. Now stop berating me and help.”

“I’m not,” Chen returned, “saying anything you don’t already know. But yes, I will help you.”

Sehun deflated with relief. “Help me think up something—anything to fix this.”

Chen stood abruptly, nearly startling Sehun. Then he said, “Come on.”

“Come on?” Sehun echoed. “Where are we going?”

Chen gestured for Sehun to follow him, but did say, “The same place we always go when one of us is having breakdown of some sort.”

“Oh,” Sehun said. And for a brief second, he didn’t feel like the world was crashing down on him.

They weren’t teenagers anymore. They weren’t even young adults, now. So they couldn’t eat the way they had in the past, and Luhan was always side-eying Sehun’s test results when he had his biannual physicals. But all the same, Chen and Sehun went to the frozen yoghurt shop that they’d been patrons of for the better part of fifteen years, and ordered far more than they could handle.

Sehun didn’t care. It wasn’t even about the food, not really. It was about the comfort of the shop, and being with his best friend, and knowing that for the next minute, or hour, or year, he was in a safe space.

“Sehun,” Chen said when he was halfway through his raspberry yoghurt. “You’re not supposed to do this anymore.”

Sehun’s shoulders folded. “Do what?”

“This,” Chen said knowingly. “Bottling things up. You know I don’t pry about you and your therapist. You know that’s not my business. What you choose to tell me, I will protect to the death as a private matter, but you have said that you and your therapist set out rules ages ago. And one of those rules is that you can’t keep things in. You can’t let them build until your anxiety gets out of control and you end up like this. You made a promise to your therapist, to yourself, and to Luhan.”

Sehun couldn’t deny that. Three and a half years into his ongoing therapy, Sehun felt like he needed it just as much now, as when he had been at his worst. And Chen was also right that he’d broken his word. From the moment the pressure had started building up on him at work, he’d broken his promise to always communicate, and not to keep things inside. He’d done it without even realizing it, and by the time he had, it was too late to go back.

“It’s not so simple,” Sehun defended.

But twice a month he saw this therapist, and now twice a month for months on end, he’d been guilty of breaking one of their most important rules.

Breaking the rules meant risking the honesty and openness they had established so long ago, and that threatened everything.

Chen warned, “You go down this path, Sehun, and what you’re risking …”

“I solve this and I’ll come clean,” Sehun promised. “If I manage to get out of this, I’ll have learned my lesson for life.”

Chen pushed his spoon through his frozen yoghurt. “You need to come clean now, at least to Luhan. He’s your partner. And he’s pregnant, sure, but he’s not delicate. Luhan has never been delicate. More than that, he deserves to know what’s going on. If he’s going to be delivering alone, he should know. And if he’s about to become the sole bread winner, then that’s important to know, too. Luhan’s my friend, Sehun, and I don’t know if I can …”

Sehun asked stiffly, “Is this you telling me that I need to say something, or you will?”

For a moment, Chen didn’t reply. He stared down at his yoghurt. Then he said, “No. Sehun, if I have to make that call, no matter what kind of damage it could do, my loyalty is to you above all others.”

When Sehun took his next bite of frozen yoghurt, it tasted like ash.

“But you need to tell him,” Chen stated.

“And I will,” Sehun swore. “But when I do, I want to be able to tell him that I got it figured out, and that we’re going to be okay.”

More kindly now, Chen said, “You two are always okay, and you know that. You go through fire and flame and come out on top.”

In the past, Sehun agreed that that was the case. But he wasn’t willing to wager the future on their luck. Not with a new baby on the way.

“So this project,” Chen said, finally getting back to the matter at hand. “You can’t be the only one who worked on it.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Sehun nodded. “Chanyeol and I formed a partnership. We’ve done it before in the past, and we work well together, but this was the first time so much was riding on us working together. Maybe that added to the pressure. But Chanyeol and I spent months together brain storming and putting our all into this. Some interns helped, too.”

“Then Chanyeol knows the material just as well as you. Why can’t he take roughly half the trips to Hong Kong? Especially the ones too close to Luhan’s due date?”

Now Sehun was stabbing his spoon into the yoghurt. “Because the client said specifically that it needed to be me. I need Chanyeol there, but this is on my shoulders. I was the lead on the project. I put my name on it first, and I get the feeling the client thinks I’m the brains behind it.”

Chen gave a long laugh. “You kind of are,” he said. “Chanyeol is great with the more technical aspects of things, but he’s not overly creative. You’ve got a mind for it, Sehun. That’s why the two of you work so well together. You think the idea up, and he refines it.”

“The point is,” Sehun sighed out. “The client wants me or nothing at all. And if I don’t go, if I don’t put my job before Luhan and Youri and the baby, I know I’ll be fired.”

“I take it your boss is a hardass?”

Sehun scoffed, “Do you mean if I explain it to him, will he understand?”

Chen nodded.

“Not even close.” That was the worst of it, Sehun decided. His boss wasn’t even on his side. “His own promotion is riding on this, and his name as the head of the department. If I back out and screw him, he’ll make sure I get screwed. That’s the point where I lose my job and get blacklisted.”

Chen gnawed down on his bottom lip, obviously in thought. “Would it be so bad?”

Sehun was flabbergasted. “Losing my job? Would losing my job be so bad?”

He and Luhan had an okay savings account, but that money wouldn’t hold them over for more than six months, not if they wanted to maintain their quality of life. Eventually the money would run out, and then where would they be? Luhan wouldn’t be ready to go back to painting at that point, Sehun would be hunting for a job in a market that wouldn’t even look at his resume.

“I mean,” Chen said, “what if you got out of graphic design, especially marketing and advertising for a while? Sehun, it’s kind of running you into the ground right now. What if you changed that up?”

“And do what?” Sehun asked, probably more curious now than anything else.

Chen pointed out, “Your brother-in-law is a powerhouse of influence. He could get you in doing any number of things, bringing home a more than decent salary.”

Pushing his frozen yoghurt to the side, Sehun let his head thump down on the table. “So that’s what I’m supposed to do? Get fired, and then use my personal ties to get into a field I know nothing about, probably taking the job of someone who deserves it more than me?”

Chen reached across the table and flicked Sehun in the ear. “I didn’t say that was a fair thing, but welcome to the corporate world. You’re old enough and smart enough to know better. I’m not saying stick with it forever, or let Suho get you in somewhere at the top of the chain. I’m saying maybe you need a break from what you’re doing right now, with a job where you have less pressure and responsibilities, and where you can be there for the birth of your son.”

“People would talk,” Sehun tried.

Chen didn’t look impressed. “People always talk, when in reality half of the people who work downtown got there because of who their mother or uncle or old brother or whoever, is. You’d be no different.”

Could he do that? Could he let Suho get him in a different company, doing something he had never trained for in the past? Could he stomach the idea of looking at a spreadsheet all day, instead of anything artistic?

For Luhan and their family, Sehun knew he could do anything. But as to if he wanted to, that was a whole different thing.

“Just think about it.” Chen urged him up off the table. “But think quick. Honestly, I think you’re backed into a corner here, and I can’t help you think your way out. So you’ve got a couple of options here, none which are great, but only one which matters.”

Sehun supposed, “Talk to Luhan.”

“Of course.” Chen went right back to his yoghurt. “I’m guessing Luhan will be mad as hell at you if you have to miss some important dates, but better he knows now, instead of you just not showing up to something. And you’re risking hurting your relationship with him if you don’t say anything soon. He trusts you, Sehun. He trusts you with everything. What if he finds you lying to him, or keeping this from him? Will he trust you then? I doubt it.”

“I just …” Sehun squeezed his eyes shut. “I just don’t want to hurt him. If I don’t say something, I don’t hurt him.”

Chen snorted. “It’s going to come out eventually, and soon at that. You’ll hurt him more if you wait. This is like a Band-Aid, probably. Better to just rip it off now, than slowly later on, once the adhesive has set in.”

In a sulky way, Sehun said, “He’s going to be so disappointed about Saturday. This means a lot to him, and I’m ruining it.”

“Better you than me,” Chen offered quietly, looking past Sehun to the window where people where passing by on the street. “I’m kind of lucking out here. You get to be the focus of everyone’s anger, not me when I have to explain why I came without Eunji.”

Sehun leaned an elbow up on the table and asked, “I hope you didn’t think I wasn’t going to ask about that.”

“Nah, I knew you would. You’re my best friend. I’ll tell you. Just …”

Carefully, with all the delicacy he could manage, Sehun asked, “It’s the baby thing, isn’t it?”

Chen gave a wince of a smile. “It’s always the baby thing.”

“Let’s take a walk,” Sehun said. “We’ve probably eaten a couple pounds worth of frozen yoghurt.”

Chen didn’t put up a fight as they dumped their containers in the trash and headed out into the late afternoon sun.

“I think,” Chen said sometime later, as the sun set behind buildings in the distance, and the moon rose in the distance, “this was the last time, Sehun. I think we might be done. I think …”

Sehun’s phone in his pocket gave a shudder of a vibration. “Ignore it,” Sehun said, “keep going. You don’t really think you’re done and you know it. You want this so bad, Chen. You both—”

Chen shook his head. “Eunji wants something different now, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Again, Sehun’s phone rang, and Sehun reached for it when Chen gave a pointed stare. He frowned at the number on the screen. He certainly didn’t recognize it.

“Hello?” he answered unsurely.

A pleasant female voice came over the phone asking, “Is this Oh Sehun?”

“Yes,” Sehun eased out slowly. “This is he.”

“Who is it?” Chen asked.

The voice continued, “This is Cheil General, we have you listed as the emergency contact for your husband, Oh Han?”

There was nothing close to describable about the feeling of fear that rushed its way through Sehun’s body in that moment.

“Sehun?” Chen demanded, gripping his elbow tightly. “Sehun, what’s wrong?”

“Sir?” the girl on the phone asked. “Sir, are you still there? There’s been an accident.”

Sehun’s knees unlocked, and down he went.