֎֎֎֎֎

“What’s wrong with you?” Taesong asked. “Is the food not good?”

They had met up at a restaurant of Taesong’s choice. Rated four stars on a site Taesong frequented. Jongin should have realized that the portion of food on his plate would not fill his stomach, but for the price he couldn’t complain.

Jongin only had one bite so far and he didn’t want to eat anymore. Definitely the food was more fancily decorated than he cared for.

Taking a spoonful of his dish, Taesong savored the flavoring and commented, “It’s pretty good. Do you want to try mine?”

“You can have it,” Jongin set his spoon onto a napkin.

Scoffing, Taesong wondered again, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I know someone who can cook better,” Jongin told.

“Really?” Taesong mused. “I wonder who that is.”

Looking at his friend, Jongin said, “She’s someone.”

“A girlfriend?” Taesong asked. “Wait…the girlfriend I’ve been hearing about?”

“We broke up.”

“So, a new one?” Taesong raised a brow then laughed amused.

“I’m not dating anyone right now.”

Taesong grinned, enthralled. “You sure have an entertaining life. Here, I was wondering if I should hook you up with someone from abroad.”

“Long distance is too much work,” Jongin shook his head. “I want someone,” Jongin went into thought, “who’s not too far.”

Crossing his arms on the table, the friend leaned forward, “So, there is someone.”

Jongin leaned back into his seat. “I didn’t say that.”

“Come on, tell me,” Taesong prompted. His face had become more defined over the years. Age was doing him a good number because the boyish look he once possessed had vanished. In fact, he seemed more outgoing as a fashion designer than he had as an aggressive goalie.

“You always told me your secrets,” Taesong reminded and wiggled his brows playfully. Humored, Jongin laughed. Somehow it felt as if Taesong had never been gone at all and they were picking up where they had left off before he flew away.

“Let me ask you something,” Jongin started.

“Fine, whatever,” sinking back into his chair Taesong folded his arms over his taut chest.

“Lets say you got someone pregnant,” Jongin began, “would you want the kid?”

The friend blinked then asked, “Is this about you?”

“No, I’m stating a situation,” Jongin assured.

“Ok,” Taesong nodded. Rubbing his chin in thought he said, “Well, being righteous, of course I should take responsibility. If I don’t, I’d be a jackass.” Shrugging, he asked, “Did you do something?”

Ignoring him, Jongin questioned, “Then how would you approach her to make it right?”

Continuing to rub his chin, Taesong said, “I thought we were going to talk about me today, but we’re talking about a fictional situation, and why is it so important?” Narrowing an eye, he wondered. “More importantly, who is this secret girl you keep mentioning?”

“Forget it,” Jongin waved his hand to dismiss the topic. “We never talked about this, ok?”

Taesong scowled at him. Grabbing his glass of water, he said, “If I am the father, I should be the father. Regardless whether we work out or not, I should be the father of my kid. If there’s no strings attached, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t try making it work.”

֎֎֎֎֎

The rest of the week Jongin left dinner hanging on her door. When she could she left lunch by his door. A kind of cycle they had going on. Except for running into him in the elevator she hadn’t really seen him since nor had they talked.

Namjoo was just returning from the convenience store with a bag half-filled with banana chips. It was all she could think about or rather all her baby was in the mood for. She wondered how things might have turned out if she had been honest with him that night, but then she didn’t think she would trade her marriage to Seojun to live with Jongin. They were two very different people to her.

The afternoon was purely breezy although humid. The trek home was already causing sweat to drip down her back. She could really feel the weight she’d gained as she walked toward the apartment building, panting. Namjoo had recently gone clothes shopping Friday evening. Discovering that she had gone up two pants sizes since getting pregnant. Now worrying how fat she might be in her last trimester. Thinking about all the exercise she would need to do after giving birth brought on a headache.

Namjoo had loaded her closet with dresses and appropriate work wear, but she worried what kind of excuse she would give when she started showing. Her co-workers would be curious about Seojun. They’d seen him enough times to know Namjoo would be wedding him. Since that wouldn’t be happening anymore, how would she explain herself? What was she going to tell her parents?

One disappointment after another. The weight of it crushed her heart, but Namjoo tried not to let it get to her. Hoping her parents would understand the reason why she kept the baby. Hopeful that her co-workers wouldn’t think any less of her for becoming a single mother.

She could do this she kept telling herself, but this other voice kept bringing her down creating waves of uncertainty. Namjoo despised how she was determined one second only to be brought down the next. It was stressful.

She thought about Jongin again. What would he have said if he knew? He’d want the baby? Namjoo couldn’t see it however much she tried. Marrying him. It felt too farfetched. They were two very different people. It just didn’t look right in her head.

He could go his own way. She wouldn’t regret it. Namjoo was confident about that.

Besides, it wasn’t like she had ever been hopeful. She never wanted his baby. Hadn’t ever wished for this baby. It still felt like a cruel trick God was playing on her.

Quickly like that, Namjoo grew upset again. If only she could have had an abortion. If only she could have fixed this problem, but she couldn’t. And here she was, with it alone dealing with the consequences.

A headache was starting to pound inside her head. She really wanted to lay down now. The closer she got to her apartment the better she felt about resting. Also, the nearer she got the more she recognized the tiny lady waiting in front of the building.

Gray haired. Fair skinned. Small and with two bags of market food.

Jongin’s mother.

Namjoo almost wanted to wheel around and walk away.

“What are you doing out here?” Namjoo wondered walking up to her. Unable to help but feel sorry for her. It was too humid outside and Namjoo wasn’t about to give up her rest to abandon an old lady.

Her eyes brightened immediately upon recognizing her. “Dear, hello! I just came to see my son, but I just realized he’s out.”

“Have you called him?”

“He won’t be back for another hour, so I thought I’d just wait out here,” she smiled and for some hellish reason it reminded her of her mother’s.

“It’s really humid,” Namjoo couldn’t stop herself, “why don’t you come inside until he returns?”

“Would that be ok?” Her eyes enlarged and Namjoo realized she looked really hopeful. She’d be really awful if she just left Jongin’s mother out here by herself.

“Sure, come in.”

The immediate moment they entered her apartment, Jongin’s mother started walking around as if it was her son’s place. Curiously sweeping her eyes through every inch from floor to ceiling. Namjoo discovered it was too late to remove Seojun’s pictures when she put her bag down.

She should have gotten rid of them, but she couldn’t bring herself to. It would be like taking away a chunk of her heart and pretending it was never there. In a way, it was better to look at Seojun’s face than pretend he was never there. It was bitterly torturous, but she had really loved him.

“Is this your boyfriend? He’s really handsome,” Jongin’s mother commented.

Namjoo watched from the kitchen despondently. Remembering how Seojun had left her in the dust when she said she was going to keep the baby. If she wasn’t pregnant there would only be a month left till their wedding. By now Namjoo would have picked up her wedding dress. The thought of it panged her heart.

“He was my fiancé,” Namjoo told. “But we broke up.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.” The elderly woman turned around.

“It’s ok. I guess it wasn’t meant to happen.” Namjoo hoped her voice hadn’t cracked. “Would you like some water or tea?”

“Water is fine, dear.”

Namjoo brought her a cup of water. Setting the glass down on the coffee table she said, “You must be hungry. I can cook something for you.”

“That would be so nice of you.” Disregarding her glass of water, she entered the kitchen to watch Namjoo make lunch. “You must be so good at cooking since your father is chef.”

“No, not really.”

“Here, I’ll help you.”

“I’m fine. You can sit down.”

“Now don’t say that. Everyone should pitch in to cook if they’re going to eat,” she lectured washing her hands. “So, what are you making?”

Jongin’s mother ended up pitching a helping hand, even cooking a side of dish with ingredients she’d bought from the mart. What Namjoo assumed was supposed to be Jongin’s dinner. In half an hour the table was already set with steaming food.

“Your parents must be so proud of you,” she commented taking a bite of the dishes on the table, “you are such a fine cook. If only my son would marry someone who is just as diligent. These days girls with good skills are so hard to find.”

“I’m sure there are a lot around.” Namjoo bit onto her spoon.

“A lot but they are probably married already,” Jongin’s mother said. “Girls are more about dolling up these days. In my days you would get a slap on the hand if you couldn’t make breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Well,” Namjoo felt herself stiffen awkwardly, “times have changed.”

“I’m sure so,” she agreed. “I only wish the young ones would know how to cook as everyone should. It relieves me that I put Jongin to the task early or he would have had such a hard time before I made him move. That boy is a real fool I tell you.”

She opened to continue her story but her phone rang. Namjoo breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up. “You’re home? No, I didn’t leave yet. I’ll be down soon. No, no. Don’t go back outside. Yes, yes I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up she said the obvious, “Jongin is finally home.”

“That’s good to hear.” Namjoo smiled politely.

“What do we do? I should help you clean up.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just the dishes.” Namjoo stood up with her. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’m sure he’s waiting for you, so you should hurry.”

“The meal was so good. Thank you for the food, dear.” Namjoo followed her to the door. “Please come eat with us again. I am sure Jongin would love the company as well.”

“Sure,” Namjoo forced the word out. Opening the door for her, Namjoo bid farewell and watched Jongin’s mom head toward the stairs.

֎֎֎֎֎

Jongin peered down the hall toward the elevator then to the hall leading to the stairs. If his mother had told him she was coming he would have returned earlier. She and her surprise visits always made him roll his eyes.

He watched her come through the doors from the stairwell and hurried to grab the bags from her. “I told you not to buy any more food. I’m not broke, mom.”

“It’s better to have more than you need. Food expires fast,” his mother chided.

As they entered his apartment he asked, “Where were you coming from? Why use the stairs?”

“I was upstairs with your friend.”

“Why did you go bother her?” Jongin frowned at his mother.

“She invited me and we had a nice meal.” Pulling a chair out she sat at the kitchen table as he set the bags down. “You know, Mina never cooked for me. That rude girl.”

“Please, mom,” Jongin murmured getting her a fresh glass of water.

“So, I thought, why don’t you try getting to know her?” His mother suggested. “Plus, I like her. I can already tell she’s a really nice girl. I’d say, marry a woman who knows how to treat her elders. I have a good eye, Jongin. She’s a good one.”

Jongin rolled his eyes as he unpacked the food she’d brought. “Lets not start this.”

“Well, why not?” His mother questioned. “After all, she’s on the market now. I heard she and her fiancé broke it off. That must mean they’re no longer getting married. This is a good opportunity for you.”

Married? Namjoo was going to get married to that guy he saw?

“What’d you say?” Jongin asked. As his mother repeated herself his mind veered itself to that crazy night in the motel spinning quickly to when he’d picked up Namjoo’s pamphlets.

So, Namjoo hadn’t just had a fever. She was heartbroken.

And pregnant.

He had ruined her future.

God, what had he done?

“What’s wrong with you?” His mother wondered noticing the drawn expression on his face.

“Nothing,” he turned away. Now he really didn’t know what to say to Namjoo about the baby. She had every right to do what she wanted, but the baby…his baby…was she going to have it? The option hadn’t been relevant before. What if Namjoo wanted to get rid of the baby to get back with her fiancé?

He’d lose his right to parenthood.

He abhorred himself. For being so selfish, but what if his mother was right? Couldn’t he give Namjoo a chance and take responsibility for what they’d done? She needed to give him a chance, too. Even after lying to him.

He suddenly worried even harder. What if by telling him not to worry meant she was going to get rid of the baby?

Whirling around he looked at his mother to see her quizzically looking at him. She would die for a grandchild. She would want to hold it all the time. Jongin could already see it, but how would Namjoo react if he told his mom?

“What?” His mother asked.

No, it just wasn’t right to use his mother. He didn’t like the idea of forcing Namjoo into a marriage with him just because she was pregnant. She could like him, too but it wouldn’t happen as quickly as it did in the movies. Still heartbroken she wouldn’t accept him just yet. Just because he wanted his child didn’t mean he would have to marry her either.

This was getting more complicated the deeper he thought about it. Yet the more he thought about his child never knowing its father, he disliked it.

What should he do?

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo resorted to the couch after washing the dishes. Sitting there. Thinking about Seojun and the life that would never come to be. She should get rid of the pictures. He was never coming back for her. Yet she didn’t move. Only felt like shedding more useless tears because she missed him.

Feeling sick down to her stomach, Namjoo laid down and closed her eyes. She would sleep for now and let the future naturally crash in.

She did fall asleep for a few hours and woke up with a jolt when her door bell rang. Sitting up dazed, Namjoo stared at the dead TV screen. Rubbing her eyes, she stood. Stretching a bit, she started toward the door wondering who would want to bother her at this time. Her stomach grumbled as she passed the kitchen.

Right, she thought, it was about time for dinner. The door bell rang again. Picking up her pace she unlocked the door and opened it.

“Hi,” Jongin greeted and held up a bag. “I brought some food.”

Namjoo stared at the bag a little taken aback. She hadn’t asked him for it. It wasn’t a work week either where they exchanged favors. Shouldn’t he be at home chilling with his mother?

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Y…yes,” Namjoo stepped back to make way. Still dazed from sleep Namjoo closed the door and turned around to see him entering her kitchen casually. Frowning now, she followed feeling more awake. “But what are you doing?”

“Since my mom bothered you earlier, I thought I could return the favor,” Jongin explained unpacking the food.

“It was nothing,” Namjoo said. “Really, you don’t need to.”

“It doesn’t look like you’ve eaten yet, so it should be ok,” Jongin turned to look at her.

Uncomfortable that he had stepped into her place, Namjoo just stared at him. Trying to think of how to get rid of him. This just didn’t feel right. Him being here. She hadn’t invited him.

“I don’t think you should have…”

“The food is still warm,” Jongin said.

“I said you didn’t need to,” Namjoo spoke a little louder. Silence quickly set in when their eyes met. Suddenly aggravated Namjoo wished he would just leave her alone.

Thankfully, her phone rang calling her away. Walking into the living room to find her phone she stared at the name flashing across the screen.

My Love Seojun.

She should be happy but only dismay hurled through her. Conflicted, Namjoo thought about the only real choices she had.

She could deal with Jongin and his homemade dinner or face the man who had left her.

In the end, she picked up the call.