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Seojun stopped by for lunch. Bringing with him her favorite foods from her favorite restaurant. They ate outside at the same table in the same yard as when they were dating. Like nothing had changed between them. As if she hadn’t cheated on him. Acting like she wasn’t carrying another man’s child.

“You should tell me if there’s anything you’d like to eat,” Seojun said. “I’ll bring it for you next time.”

Taking a huge bite of her sandwich she chewed. Thinking about that morning at the doctor’s office. When they had listened to the baby’s heartbeat. Witnessing the awe in Jongin’s eyes as he stared at the monitor.

Looking at Seojun she answered, “I eat anything.”

“Can you find out if it’s a girl or a boy yet?” he wondered.

“It’s still a bit early.” She told.

Jongin wanted a daughter, because she’d be pretty like her mom he’d said. She wondered if she should wish for a boy because she didn’t want him to win.

“When is your doctor appointment? You could ask.” Seojun’s voice brought her back.

“It was this morning,” Namjoo said.

“Was it?” he asked. “Then, do you have a picture of the baby? I’d like to see.”

Namjoo hesitated then said, “I don’t have it.”

“Oh…” He sounded disappointed. “Does he have it then?”

Gripping onto the sandwich she looked at Seojun again. This man could have been her husband. If it had happened that way she wouldn’t have to be feeling so troubled. How happy she would be right now she regrettably asked herself.

Not trapped with a baby and a man whose goal was the child.

“I let him take it,” Namjoo replied. “It’s just a picture, so it’s ok.”

“The woman the other day,” Seojun began, “does she come here often?”

Intentionally lifting the sandwich to Namjoo took a bite and chewed quickly. Needing to look busy, because she didn’t want to remember it. It didn’t matter that Seojun had talked about her pregnancy. Everyone was bound to find out in a matter of time. She was getting bigger. Her wardrobe was changing and she wasn’t even getting married anymore. Many people would take notice and they’d have questions anyway.

What mattered was that she had been foolish enough to fall into the clutches of Jongin’s kindness. In her time of need when her fiancé abandoned her she had fallen into his arms so easily only to have it turn on her.

She was so upset with herself.

“Our company is sponsoring her,” Namjoo explained. Tiring of sitting here with Seojun and her bad thoughts she glanced at her phone, “I think I should head back. There are some phone calls I’m waiting for.”

Getting to her feet she wrapped up the unfinished sandwich and tucked it into a paper bag. Seojun followed her, “You haven’t eaten much. Maybe you shouldn’t be working so hard.”

“I’m fine,” Namjoo insisted increasing her pace. Pushing the door open she stepped into the building and started down the hallway. “You should go back to work now.”

“Let me walk you up.” Seojun offered.

She turned to face him. “Seojun, please.”

“Namjoo!” A voice called out. She glanced behind Seojun to see Taesong walking toward them. He looked so smiley Namjoo felt kind of jealous.

“You should go now.” Namjoo glanced at Seojun.

“Ok then,” he relented. “You’ll eat the rest of your food though?”

“I will,” Namjoo said. Her ex fiancé gave her one last glance then turned to leave but not without giving Taesong a look as he passed.

Frowning, Taesong asked as he approached, “Is he giving you trouble?”

“No.”

“Jongin knows he comes here?” Taesong questioned.

“I don’t think it’s his problem,” Namjoo muttered. “What are you doing here?”

“You have some time?” Taesong asked.

“I still have some things to do.” Namjoo said.

“Then set it aside and come with me. Consider it business,” Taesong smugly grinned. Namjoo looked at him with a frown.

֎֎֎֎֎

They walked into a high-end boutique with cubicles stashed with colorful cloths. Vintage seats spread throughout the marbled building like computers would in an office. A huge mirror emblazoned with gold patterns hung on one wall in front of a wide vanity. Makeup brushes, palettes, hair spray, combs, and hair tools were sprawled across its countertop in an articulate system only its owner would understand. In the center of the room a narrow beige staircase that spanned out led to the second floor. It was where Taesong took her.

“It’s a friend’s. She’s a seamstress slash stylist,” he explained on the way up. “I’m temporarily using it for my models when they come in for fittings. It’s usually closed at this time, for lunch that is.”

Namjoo curiously glanced at the Victorian paintings on the walls wondering if Taesong’s friend was a fan of the medieval arts.

“Here we are,” Taesong crooned when they reached the top.

Up here the lights were brighter partially due to the huge floor to ceiling window. The curtains had been pulled wide open allowing sunlight to bounce off the marbled floors. Surrounding her were racks of shimmery to solid colored gowns, pants, and tops. Bags to match, shoes to walk away with, and hats that came with a pricey sum.

Designer Taesong held a finger up. “But that’s not what we’re here for.” He said leading her toward the back. Reaching their destination – an open styled closet – he grabbed a dress bag. Handing it to her he said, “Try it on.”

Running her eyes over the green bag Namjoo shook her hands, “No. Really. I don’t need it.”

“As one of my VIPs, you should at least do this for me.”

“What VIP?” Namjoo frowned.

“The fashion show,” Taesong reminded. “You’re my guest.”

Shaking her head, “I didn’t say I was going.”

“I already sent out invitations,” Taesong informed.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I just did,” Taesong smiled then pushed the dress into her hands. “Try it on. We have to see if there’s anything we should fix before D-day.”

Wheeling her around he pushed her into the fitting room. Namjoo turned around too slow to see the door closing and slammed into it.

Huffing defeated she glanced at the dress bag. Giving up she tore the dress out and stared at the black material carefully stitched together to flatter a woman’s figure in all the right places.

Taesong beamed at her when she stepped out with a stern expression. Her first words were, “I’m not doing it.”

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Taesong complimented. “I think Jongin will love it.”

“I said – ”

Forcing her to meet his eyes, Taesong stated vehemently, “He’ll love it.” making her shut up. Snagging a measuring tape off a table he wrapped it around her waist saying, “He showed me the picture of the baby.”

Namjoo’s heart lurched. Knowing Jongin was head over heels because of the baby.

It was the baby.

“Though I still don’t know how to see it, but never minding that,” Taesong stepped back to observe the dress. “I just have to alter it a little. You’re not showing yet, so it won’t be too difficult.”

A bump was forming. Namjoo just hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even Jongin. She could feel it when she ran her fingers over her belly. In a few weeks her belly would start protruding. That was when her co-workers would start asking questions. Who was the father? Why wasn’t she married yet? Had Seojun ditched her? Or was it the model’s boyfriend’s?

No, it was her baby.

This baby was going to be hers.

She wasn’t going to give Jongin his parental rights.

She already had it planned out.

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo looked up when Jongin placed a fresh glass of water with a slice of lemon in front of her. She had just showered. Pulled on a large shirt she’d grabbed from the store on the way home hoping it would conceal her growing stomach.

“I’m not nauseous anymore,” Namjoo told.

“I’ve decided I’ll keep making it for you anyway,” Jongin said. Her eyes floated to his sincerity. Feeling guilty for being this way. From hiding the baby’s growth. Obviously knowing he’d be overjoyed if he could touch her belly and feel the bump.

She liked it a little more when she thought about him talking to the baby. Maybe singing or reading a book just so the baby could hear his voice.

Grabbing the cup of cool water, she took a sip looking his way. Back at the stove preparing dinner even though she was totally capable of doing it.

“That’s right,” he turned around to look at her. “Taesong stopped at the office earlier. He wants us to go to his fashion show. He gave us VIP tickets.”

“I heard.” Namjoo said.

“You did?” he appeared surprised.

“Taesong stopped by my office, too.”

“That sneaky jerk,” Jongin muttered. “I wonder what he has up his sleeve. If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.”

“I said we’ll go.” Namjoo told.

“Really?” Jongin asked.

“Yes, why not.” Namjoo said. “I’ve never been to one before and I heard celebrities also go. It’d be interesting.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Jongin observantly eyed her.

“Yes.” She held his eyes. Both of them aware that Mina was also a part of the runway.

Jongin having completely no interest in his ex-girlfriend’s work, but Namjoo wanted to go face her. Just to shove it in the model’s face that Jongin was with her.

“Then, we’ll go,” Jongin said.

He packed her lunch the next day. She sat outside staring at the meal he had cautiously packed. Giving her more than necessary. She felt touched by his effort. Even though she had known he’d woken early that morning she hadn’t gotten up. Pretending she was still asleep she had laid there alone in bed as the warmth of his spot slowly cooled.

It was things like these that stirred her heart. Things like these that made her think of him. Still, she was wary about his intentions even if she felt this way. She couldn’t trust him.

“So you were out here.” She turned to find Seojun walking toward her with a bag of food. “Oh, you packed lunch?”

Namjoo looked from him to Jongin’s food. “You didn’t say you were coming.”

“I usually don’t call, do I?” Seojun said. It was the truth. Once more her eyes darted to his bag of food. Sitting down beside her Seojun peered at the food, “It looks delicious. Can I have some?”

“Oh…yea…” Tongue tied Namjoo watched him pick up her spoon and take a bite out of the stir fry cooked by Jongin. Feeling guilty. The ability to say no having left . Namjoo wanted to slap herself.

Then her dead phone shot to life. Both their eyes shot toward her phone sitting on the table to see Jongin’s name flashing. Seojun looked at her but she couldn’t look at him. All her attention glued to the phone she couldn’t pick up, because what? She was with Seojun and she didn’t want to talk to Jongin in front of him?

None of it had to do with Seojun.

Namjoo was scared out of her wits.

Scared, because she had developed feelings for Jongin.

Scared for the baby that would become his and not hers.

Scared because she was making it so easy for him.

And she was angry with herself for feeling this way.

“Why aren’t you picking up?” Jongin’s voice shot through her ears.

Shocked, she turned to see him standing midway down the path from the doors. Staring at her hard. Gripping his phone in one hand. The other clutching an identical lunch bag.

Abandoning Seojun, Namjoo shuffled to her feet with her heart pounding furiously.

“Hey, we were just…” Seojun began.

Jongin angrily snapped, “Shut up!”

Namjoo exhaled afraid of a misunderstanding. She didn’t mean to disappoint Jongin like this. Why did this make her feel so terrible?

Jongin bit his lower lip once before he turned around to walk away. Unable to move, Namjoo continued to feel her heart wallop. Certainly, she was upset with Jongin to a point she couldn’t talk about it, but she wasn’t aiming to create any disconcert between them.

“Namjoo,” Seojun touched her arm swinging her into action.

Pushing the doors open she impulsively ran after Jongin. Needing to at least let him know that she wasn’t seeing Seojun romantically again.

She discovered him in time tossing his lunch bag into the car. Rushing forward she slammed the door shut before he could get in.

“Jongin, I didn’t know you were coming.” Namjoo looked at him.

“Would you have picked up even if I called earlier?” Jongin shot.

Namjoo blinked. “I’m sorry. I just froze.”

“I’m sure you did.” He reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Namjoo urgently apologized. “We just have lunch sometimes. Seojun’s a friend. That’s all.”

Heaving a breath, Jongin took a step back. “Look, I’m just being stupid.” Her brow twitched as she searched his face for any sign of pain, jealousy, anything. “It’s not like I have any right to control who you see or don’t.”

Namjoo blinked. A little hurt. A little confused about what was happening.

Why were they acting like this? Why was she feeling this way?

Truth was, they weren’t even anything to begin with. Her feelings were her own. She was the only one who cared.

Stepping away from the door Namjoo quietly acknowledged, “I overreacted. Sorry.”

“I’ll see you at home.” Jongin said opening the door then slipped inside. Namjoo watched him reverse out of the lot and drive away.

Recently, she thought she had been acting normally around him. Maybe she was trying too hard now, because the more she spent the nights with him the more she worried about her future with her baby. And the more she needed to set aside her growing attachment to him. This inner battle couldn’t continue forever.

So, when would she leave him?

“Did you fight?” Seojun popped up behind her.

Namjoo turned around. “No. Why would we?”

“You look disturbed,” he noted.

“Can you just go today?” Namjoo asked feeling depleted. “I want to have lunch alone.”

֎֎֎֎֎

Jealous. He was so jealous! Angrier with himself for arriving late that Seojun had beat him to the punch. More aware that he was in no position to tell Namjoo she couldn’t see that man again, because…because he wasn’t even her husband, her boyfriend, or anyone important to her. And it upset him so much!

And Namjoo had probably really missed her ex.

Appetite lost, he couldn’t even bring himself to open his packed lunch. He intentionally stayed behind late because he didn’t know how to face Namjoo when he got home. Would she have noticed his jealous fit earlier? Would she have anything to say about it?

Instead, a red hot car was parked in front of the building when he pulled into the parking lot. As he neared the door opened and Mina stepped out in dark shades. Her shorts so high up that her legs seemed to run forever. Jongin immediately wanted to turn around and pretend he had never come home, but it was too late. The vixen had already seen him.

“Coming home so late?” Mina asked.

“What do you want?” he asked ignoring her and continued walking toward the doors.

“I’m sure no one’s home,” Mina said from behind. “There’s no reason for you to hurry up.”

This made him stop.

“Want a ride?” Mina offered. “I can take you to the woman you’ve been sleeping with.”

***Mina has completely gotten into Namjoo's head. They're so focused on outside forces that they can't even stop for a moment to embrace the positive relationship they have created that is not just about the baby