“Is it because of him?” Seojun looked hurt. His eyes those of a sad boy’s.

“I just don’t think you should come so often,” Namjoo excused gently. “I’m sure your friends would like to see you, too.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?” Seojun asked.

“Y…yes,” Namjoo couldn’t help but say. She didn’t know how to talk to him. Questioning who she really was to him. To her Seojun was her ex-fiancé more than he was her friend. He was her past and she wouldn’t forget that he had been a dear person in her heart.

He was then. Jongin was now.

That was the difference.

But she knew that would be like putting another knife through his heart. She couldn’t do it.

“Then it’s ok,” Seojun innocently said. Cheering up, his eyes shone. “I promise I’ll call again next time.”

“When is next time?” Namjoo asked. “Tomorrow? The day after?” She met with Seojun’s puzzled gaze. Uncertain why her words weren’t processing through his smart brain. “Seojun…”

“I’ll call next time,” he interrupted her. Smiling sheepishly, he said, “I’ll call. Don’t work too hard and don’t forget to eat the food when you’re hungry.”

She watched him walk out of her office as quickly as he’d come.

Slumping back into her chair she returned to work troubled. She would talk to Jongin when she returned home. She could use his input on how to further work things out with Seojun. Though she didn’t think she should involve Jongin. This was something between her and Seojun, but she also hoped Jongin could help her see the bigger picture. Being the one involved clogged up perceptions.

When she clocked out she made one last run to the bathroom before riding the elevator down to ground floor. There was a message that Jongin would be late, so she could eat without him. Slightly disappointed she returned the phone into her bag. Hooking her purse over her shoulder as the elevator doors opened. She would head home and cook and leave a plate for Jongin. Her eyes were set on the glass doorway until someone called, “Spacing out?”

Immediately halting, Namjoo hesitated before turning to see Mina leaning against the entryway of the lounge. Surprised that she had missed Jongin’s ex on her trek out.

Unable to form words out of , Mina spoke instead. “I hope you’re not in a hurry home.”

Shifting a little Namjoo simply answered, “No.”

“Good,” Mina crisply stated, “because I waited long enough for you. Long enough that I saw your fiancé come in and walk out.”

Lightly biting down on her teeth, Namjoo remained calm. “Lets not talk here. It’s my workplace.”

“Sure.” Finally smiling Mina brushed past pushing her way out the doors without waiting for her.

in a breath and tightening her grip on her purse, Namjoo turned to follow. She had expected to see Mina, but honestly not so soon. The woman was so confident about everything she did that she was intimidating.

As Namjoo walked out she reminded herself that Mina was a heartbroken woman. In the entirety of their situation, Namjoo could consider herself the other woman. Mina could trample on her and all she’d be able to do was apologize, because that was all she could do. And this was the only way Mina could lash out. Express her suffering because Namjoo knew none of this was fair.

Without her, Jongin could still be Mina’s. And she would be married by now.

The past was already quickly slipping out of their hands like sand. How could any of them keep holding on?

“Here’s fine,” Namjoo said as they went around to the corner of the building, where a dozen of skinny trees shaded them from view of the street. Empty here because who ever came out to the corner of the building anyway?

“Why didn’t you just come up?” Namjoo wondered. Mina wasn’t the type to be passive. Maybe she had been sitting in the lounge oozing anger as she thought of the spiteful things she could say. Namjoo thought that sounded likely.

“Oh, to witness you and your fiancé together?” Mina mocked with definite spite.

Namjoo simply blinked. “You went to see Jongin.”

Her expression raged. Turned somewhat red as her eyes hardened. “Yes, I did! I had to call my boyfriend a ing cheater!”

The words felt like a single blast of wind cutting into her face.

“Because that’s what he is and that’s what you are,” Mina hissed. Glaring at her belly, she jarringly asked, “Is it even his?”

Shocked into silence, Namjoo’s eyes widened. Offended.

Manic laughter spilled out of Mina’s mouth. “I bet it’s not even his.”

“Mina,” Namjoo softly called.

The woman’s steely eyes landed on her with revulsion. “You .” Mina’s eyes watered but she refused to cry. Staring at her with growing abhorrence. “You took him from me. Does it make you proud that you tore up a woman’s future? I was going to marry Jongin. I was! You took that chance from me!”

The cold that poured out of Mina’s mouth, Namjoo understood, were more of regret than distain. Mina hated her she knew. With every ounce of her blood. With every beat of her heart. Namjoo didn’t blame Jongin’s ex.

Instead, Namjoo felt her own eyes well up. She knew. Not how Mina felt, but she knew where the pain stemmed from. Loss. The questions left unanswered of could be’s and what could have happened if she and Jongin hadn’t veered off.

“But I envy you,” Namjoo confessed. “You have freedom. To be out there. To still fill up the empty pages. If you want to call it that – we ed up – Jongin and I, but you have the choice not to waste your time on what hurt you. It’s painful, so despise us. Run us over in your head, Mina, but don’t make us the excuse not to be happy.”

Scoffing with absurdity, Mina sent her a shrewd gaze. “Don’t try to be noble.” Stepping a little closer, she lowered her voice. “You’re the one who won’t be happy. I told you before, it’s the thing inside you that Jongin will love more than he’ll ever care about you. It’s what he truly wanted the night you two decided to, what did you call it? Hurt us. By now you would realize I know him a lot better than you do. Take it as a token of me trying to be nice.” Stepping back so their gazes fully met, she warned, “You should be worried, Namjoo. About which man truly loves you more. Your fiancé or my boyfriend? You still have the freedom to make a decision.”

֎֎֎֎֎

“You’re really staying here?” Jongin asked in awe as he walked around Taesong’s suite. Filled with lux furniture. Floor to ceiling windows not boring creamy walls. Pure light radiated onto the waxed linoleum floors. The marbled pillars marked kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom.

“Life of a designer,” Taesong boasted pouring himself a glass of wine. “Want one?”  

“I’m driving.” Jongin reminded.

“One glass won’t hurt.”

“I want to be full functioning by the time I get home.” Jongin made his point.

“Scared Namjoo will chew you out if she smells the wine off you?” Taesong teased.

“Yes, I’m sure she will.” Jongin blatantly agreed.

Scoffing, Taesong took a sip before leaving his island table that consisted of its own tiny sink and stove. “I’m flying out to Spain for an event in a few days.”

“How long? Month? Year?” Jongin wondered.

“Not sure,” Taesong answered plopping down onto the arm of his couch. “Might be doing some collaborations abroad.”

“What about your job here?”

“I just came back to coordinate the show,” Taesong told. “If you’re worried about Mina, she’s under the talent agency. They’ll deal with her. She’s not under me anymore.”

“Then I guess, that’s a relief.” Jongin said.

“So,” Taesong began, “have you settled things? Namjoo sounded insecure the last time we talked.”

“When was that?” Jongin asked wondering if they had met without him knowing.

“The fashion show,” Taesong reminded.

“Oh, that.”

“You jerk. You really don’t keep track of things, do you?” Taesong narrowed an eye at him.

Flustered, Jongin opened his mouth to retort, “I do! I have! We’re fine! We’re doing great these days. Why would you have anything to say about it anyway.” Then quietly muttered, “Busybody.”

“You’re dense and you need help sometimes.” Taesong took another sip of his glass. “Are you sure you don’t want a glass?”

“No,” Jongin spat. “Why am I even listening to you anyway? As if you’re so wise.”

Smiling to himself, Taesong watched the red liquid swirl inside his champagne glass. “I’ve had my own share of issues.”

At his solemn tone, Jongin glanced at his friend curiously. “You have a woman?”

Peering up at him slyly, Taesong grinned, “Not now.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “I almost felt sorry for you.”

“I’m sure she likes you, Jongin.” Taesong stared into his cup, as if he was reading his fortune. “If she doesn’t know yet, make sure she knows you love her. I mean it. Insecurity can be a real bastard sometimes.”

Jongin glanced down at his friend. Somewhat filled with curiosity about where this was coming from. What kind of experience Taesong had had that made him feel so strongly for him.

“Will you be coming back?” Jongin meant it.

Taesong swirled his wine some more then angled his head with a grin. “Get married and I will.”

֎֎֎֎֎

They were good. They had Saturday planned. Jongin thought roses and a candle light dinner would create just the perfect romantic mood for the evening. He still wanted Namjoo to feel special even if she was still halfway through her pregnancy. Sunday he would sing songs to the baby and they could shop for children’s books, some clothes, and prepare for a nursery. He would even suggest she lease her apartment upstairs. There was no point going up there anymore.

He felt giddy on the way home. Almost as if he’d drunk a glass of wine himself. He blamed Taesong for making him so eager.

Actions not words he thought. He would show Namjoo he loved her then make her cry by saying it later. It was his perfect plan.

When he got in Namjoo was sitting at the kitchen table by herself. A glass of what he hoped was apple juice sat in front of her half drained. Namjoo hadn’t once touched it since he’d shown it to her months ago. He had expected dinner waiting for him. It’d be ok if she had eaten without him, but he at least thought she would have prepared something for him.

There was nothing, but a glass of what he hoped was apple juice.

Closing the door behind him he slipped out of his shoes. Worried. “Namjoo?”

She didn’t look at him but spun the glass around. Concerned, he walked over needing to confirm for himself that she wasn’t having beer. Holding the cup under his nose he breathed relieved when he didn’t smell alcohol.

“What are you doing?” he interrogated. “You scared me. I thought you were drinking.”

“Are you worried I’d get rid of the baby?” Namjoo quietly asked.

He stared down at her with a frown. Noting a moment later that she was wearing a sweater he’d never seen before. The house was exceptionally warm. It wasn’t even fall yet. “Are you cold? You’re wearing a sweater.”

“Seojun bought it for me.”

“What?” he asked not sure he heard right.

“It’s a gift. From Seojun.” Namjoo repeated then added for clarification as if he was stupid. “My fiancé.”

A nerve twitched in his face. “Why’d you accept it?”

“It was a gift.”

“That’s not what I said.” He stated. “What’s wrong?”

He waited. She didn’t answer. She continued to stare blankly at the cup of apple juice as if seething in anger. At what?

“Namjoo,” he deepened his tone. “If you’re not going to answer me at least look at me.”

Her brows were tightly knit when she turned, titled her head back to gaze up at him. Confusion sprinkled her deep-set eyes. She agitatedly told shakily, “I met Mina.”

Realization dawned on him.

Mina again.

“What did she say to you?” he softened his tone. Namjoo blinked, looked away. He had to urge again, “Namjoo.”

Namjoo looked betrayed as she asked, “Do you just want the baby?”

“I want the baby,” he told.

Breathing loudly, hurt by his answer she squeezed her dress into her fist. Crouching down onto his knees he peered up into her face. Saw her fighting back tears.

“Is what I initially thought,” Jongin finished. He touched her fist. “True, I worried about the baby. If you lose it, I can’t be a father. If you got married, I can’t see my child grow up. And then you said you thought about it, too, and I realized I was selfish. You are your own person before you should worry about anyone else. Whatever decision you wanted to make should be of your own will. It’s not my right to dictate it, even if all I wanted to be is a father. But we made a promise, didn’t we? We’d figure this out together. We’d give each other a chance. So yes, it was about the baby at first but now isn’t it more than that?”

Reaching up to comb his hands up her hair he asked again, “Aren’t we more than that now? I thought we were.”

The tears grew a little bigger threatening to drip out of her eyes. Jongin nearly toppled forward when Namjoo abruptly hugged him, burying her face into his shoulder. Holding him so tight he couldn’t budge an inch. Surprised because he didn’t know she was so strong.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little as he wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry. You were hurt, weren’t you?”

“I like you, Jongin.” Namjoo adjusted her arms around him to hold him closer.

“I know,” he joyfully laughed. “I know.”

He ended up making dinner for them. They made out after showering and climbed into bed together. Hugging and kissing a little more. The intimacy luring him into temptation. Then Namjoo was on her back and eagerly shoving his shirt halfway up his body.

“Are you sure?” he whispered half soaked in sweat. Leaning over her on all fours. Smelling her breath, her bodily scent. “I thought we were going to wait until Saturday.”

“Yea,” she panted running her hands up his back. “Now. I want now.”

“Ok,” he breathed. Namjoo obliged as he pushed her up against the pillows for leverage. Watching as she pulled his shirt off and then her own. Opening her legs for him as he moved closer they peered at each other sinking in the depth of the moment. Baring to each other their raw feelings as they kissed. Slowly before sinking further into passion then bliss as they embraced. Sharing a night of newly discovered emotions.

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo was up first the following morning. Glowing with happiness as she started on breakfast. Sneaking up on him as he brushed his teeth after they ate hugging him from behind until he finished. It was such a simple morning as they rode the elevator down together. He had everything was what it felt like. There was nothing else to wish for.

“We have the doctor appointment Tuesday,” Namjoo reminded over lunch.

“Already?” Jongin asked. “Time sure flies.” Touching her belly, he asked, “Right, baby?”

Namjoo’s baby bump had grown a little more. Could no longer be hidden even if she wore a sweater.

“Should we come up with a fetus name?” Namjoo suggested. “Something like peanut?”

“That’s too common,” Jongin waved it off. “She needs to be called something cuter. Bubblegum?”

“What?! No!” Namjoo laughed at the absurdity.

“Spawn.”

“No!” Namjoo screeched horrified and hit him.

“Spud.”

“No!” she screeched again as he giddily laughed.