1.

After they break up, Minho convinces himself that it’s for the best.

Their relationship reached a point for both of them where they needed to make decisions and give up on some of their precious dreams and projects, that neither is ready to give up on yet.

So he makes himself believe that, if it was meant to be, they wouldn’t have hesitated so much in the face of the obstacles rising on their way and would’ve simply gone on with their relationship, experiencing little disappointment at the loss of their old dreams.

As it is, though, both he and Taemin never wanted to give up on said dreams. No matter the cost. Even if their relationship and love were the ones to suffer at their decisions.

So they go their separate ways, hearts aching at the loss of one another, but holding onto their dreams and projects like a life-line. Reassuring themselves it’s how things are supposed to go.

Which is why, when he notices he missed a call from an overseas and unknown number around a month later, he doesn’t think much of it, until he starts to listen to the voicemail the caller left.

Minho is a little lost at first when he hears Taemin’s voice come through the speaker and refuses to acknowledge the ache and longing the omega’s light husky tone causes in him. When the shock subsides slightly, he finds himself pulling the phone away with a frown, without hearing the reason why Taemin called him.

He doesn’t call the younger male back. He can very well imagine how the conversation would go if he did: Taemin telling him it was a mistake and that they should’ve never broken up. The omega asking him for another chance to make things work and him giving in, because when was he ever able to resist the raven-head?

So he ignores the call, refusing to allow himself to use his instincts as an excuse as to why he’s so weak for the younger.

He tells himself he doesn’t have time for that, that he can’t let the omega distract him from his work. Instead, he focuses on the papers laid out on his desk and tunes out everything else.

However, Taemin doesn’t give up that easily. He calls several other times, leaves voice messages and texts, all of which Minho ignores and deletes without bothering to read or listen to. Eventually, Taemin calls his office and Minho instructs his secretary not to pass on any call from the omega.

Minho’s only glad that, with the younger being out of the country, he doesn’t wound up showing up at his office or his apartment unannounced, because the alpha seriously doesn’t need that distraction right now. Not when he’s about to strike the deal that will take his family’s business from the edge of bankruptcy.

Minho doesn’t know when the calls stop coming. He doesn’t ask his secretary for how long Taemin insisted on calling either. Instead, he just feels glad his phone isn’t being bombarded by messages and calls anymore.

He worries, however, when he finds out that he’s not the only one who doesn’t hear from Taemin anymore. All of their friends are also subject to complete radio silence, not only from the omega’s part but from his family as well. Not that they have much opportunity to talk to them, even in person, given Taemin’s immediate family lives in Japan.

It hurts and his inner alpha is agonizing at the loss of his beloved omega, but he roughens up and forces himself to believe it’s for the best. For both of them.

Days go on like that, weeks, months. Minho’s business thrives, his family’s name rises again and he can finally feel fulfilled. At least professionally.

Even still, four whole years pass and not a night goes by, without him dreaming of his omega and of the family they could’ve built together. No one, it doesn’t matter how many lovers he collects, fills in the void the raven-head left in his life and his inner alpha becomes bitter and cold, breaks ties with him and disconnects him from his most basic instincts.

Minho becomes an empty shell driven by nothing but work and the overall coldness that became his second nature.

Even so, he doesn’t seek his omega. He muses that after all these years, the younger ought to have built himself a new life, found an alpha that loves him like he deserves and not under the condition that their projects match.

So, it’s only natural, that the last thing Minho expects is to enter the elevator at his apartment building one day, to hear a familiar voice shout an urgent, “please, hold the doors!”

His brain doesn’t register the familiar soft husky tone, but his body moves on its own as he presses on the button to keep the lift doors open.

A few seconds later, a man comes in holding a boy into his arms, a school backpack – obviously the boy’s – hanging from the man’s forearm, together with a pharmacy bag, as a satchel hangs from his shoulder.

“Thank you,” the man says, without looking at him.

The first thing that strikes Minho as the other presses the button for the fifth floor, is the sweet scent of omega and then that unforgettable fragrance mixing cherry blossoms and lemons and a hint of coffee. Minho freezes as his eyes stop on the omega’s face, his inner alpha waking like it’s been electrified as he stares at the younger.

His Taemin.

His Taemin who is standing right by his side, staring back at him with an aghast expression on his features, just as the doors of the lift close and they start moving.

His Taemin whose features are so much more beautiful than in his memories and whose scent is so much more calming and tempting than he could ever remember.

“Daddy, my head hurts...”

His Taemin, who is cradling a child into his arms.

A child that is not Minho’s.

The omega tears his eyes away from him as the boy in his arms whines, small arms wrapped around his father’s neck and his little face hidden in the crook of it.

Taemin massages his son’s back, as he whispers in a comforting way, “shh, baby, you’ll be fine. We’re almost home.”

Minho wonders if the boy is sick, as he watches the exchange, his eyes drifting back to the pharmacy back hanging from Taemin’s arm.

“Tae–”

The raven-head instantly glares at him and Minho clamps his mouth shut, not having expected the hostile response. The omega steps to the side until he’s almost leaning against the wall opposite to the alpha, putting as much distance between them as possible in the enclosed space of the elevator.

Minho’s inner alpha whimpers and curls up into a ball.

The elevator ride is so fast, the elder feels like those few minutes are nothing but seconds during which he’s unable to muster up a proper greeting. When the doors open on the fifth floor, Taemin steps out without a single look in his direction. Minho stays frozen on his spot as he watches the other’s retreating back until the doors of the elevator close again and the box restarts its course to drop him off on the last floor.

Minho moves mechanically after that. He steps out of the elevator into the hallway, types in the code on the single door on that floor and steps into his empty and cold penthouse.

Taemin’s scent is still wafting in his nose and it’s like he’s coming down from a high. His head hurts, his heart thunders in his rib-cage and his fingertips tingle.

The younger’s image is imprinted in his mind’s eye, clear as day. More vivid than it has ever been in the past four years.

When he drops his brief-case on the couch in the living room, he stands by it for what feels like an eternity. He’s numb and dizzy. He wants to walk right out of his apartment and go after his omega.

His omega who has a child.

His omega, who probably has a mate. The child’s father or mother.

His omega, who doesn’t have a place for him in his life anymore.

Minho doesn’t sleep that night. Hell, he doesn’t even eat or shower.

He merely lies in bed, still in his suit, feeling suffocated by more than just the tie around his neck. He stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, making no efforts to chase the memory of his precious omega that he missed so much, from his mind.

In the days that follow, Minho finds himself looking everywhere for just a glimpse of Taemin. He enters the elevator in the morning, hoping to see the younger hopping in on the fifth floor. He enters the same elevator when he gets home from work, hoping for a repeat of that first encounter a week ago and every time, he finds himself sorely disappointed.

He itches to see the younger again. Fights with himself not to investigate which apartment the omega lives in and every time he wonders why he even needs to stop himself, he’s reminded that Taemin has a child. That the younger probably has a mate and that said mate also lives in that apartment. It’s also a little of cowardice from his part, both because he’s scared of finding out if his suspicions are true and because he doesn’t want to see Taemin glaring at him again, like he did that day, a week ago.

So he’s reduced to waiting and hoping to see the younger again by chance.