“My mother texted me.”

There is a brief lull as the words, for all that they are said offhandedly, register. Donning a carefully-neutral expression, Jongdae picks up another plate from the drying rack and asks, “What does she want?”

The hesitation from Han could mean anything: She could have texted him because she ran out of money, or because Han’s father isn’t answering her calls, or because she wants to know if he’s still dating Jongdae. Or perhaps she is just texting insults in a drunken stupor. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It has been a blessed few months with nothing from her, but Jongdae should have known it wouldn’t last despite her promises to cut Han off. 

When they had first started dating sometime last year, Han had been so chill about being seen with him that he’d thought there would be no problem – but then one day Jongdae had mentioned that his parents wanted to meet Han. Han’s excitement about that prospect had been slightly dampened by the strained relationship with his own parents, in particular his mother.

He didn’t immediately tell Jongdae about his situation, and while Jongdae noticed how Han tended to steer away from conversations about his parents, he never really thought much of it. When Han mentioned over dinner a few days later that he did not think it would be a good idea for Jongdae to meet his parents, Jongdae had, cautious but curious, asked why.

Han then told Jongdae about the day he came out to his parents, and their worse-than-expected reactions. His father had been vocally against it, but not aggressively so, and despite the unfavourable reception, his father eventually resigned himself to the idea and decided to support Han the best he could despite not really understanding. 

His mother was a different case. She first convinced herself that it wasn’t real, that Han was going through a rebellious phase and would return to her idea of normal soon enough, but two years and several casual relationships down the line she was forced to face reality, except it was a reality she would not accept. She tried to convince Han that he was wrong, that he was not supposed to stray from his path in life, that he had been blinded or deceived; she even arranged dates with a handful of women before Han had enough of her meddling and told her nothing she did would change how he felt.

Her behaviour afterwards pushed Han to distance himself from both of them, which was one of the reasons he came to Korea. His decision to leave China incensed her further, thus she refused to answer his calls throughout all of his time in college, where he met Jongdae. 

They were aquantainced, later friends, for four years before they went on their first date. By then Han’s mother was reluctantly back to talking to Han at her husband’s urging, but she seized every chance she got to try to talk Han out of men, still refusing to accept his choices in love. 

They nearly came to blows the day Han decided to introduce Jongdae to his father during a trip to China. His mother should have been somewhere else, but instead she was home and anticipating their arrival. 

She started out coolly courteous towards Jongdae, but ignored him whenever she could. Jongdae did not know Han to be easily vexed, but his mother's actions spurred him into an argument with her, which led to a screaming match with Jongdae and Han's father looking dejectedly at each other on the sidelines. 

They went back to the hotel that night after Han's father had to step in to keep her from laying hand on him. 

Han, furious, was all too happy to cut all contact with her as she had promised to do after that incident. 

Which leads to this moment, Han standing with his phone in his hands and a slight frown on his face. 

“She's asking how I'm doing,” he says. Jongdae arches an eyebrow. “That's it. No texts in two months and then this.”

“Do you think she's being sincere?” Jongdae asks. 

Han is quiet for another moment, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “It’s a bit hard to believe when years of me being what I am could not make her accept me. A few months definitely won’t do that.” He exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I want to believe she’s sincere. I miss her. But I won’t let her back into my life unless I know for certain she will treat you fairly.”

“And you, too,” Jongdae reminds kindly. “She hasn’t been a good mother for a while.”

Han laughs a little helplessly, which tugs at Jongdae’s heartstrings, and slumps into one of the chairs surrounding their dinner table. He drags his hands down his face. “I know. I know, and it hurts. I miss the days when she still loved me, before I ruined her idea of the perfect son with a pretty wife and three kids.”

Jongdae discards the tea towel on the counter and comes to sit across Han. He puts his hand atop Han’s on the table and squeezes, but he says nothing. 

“Perhaps I should call Father,” Han muses. “He’ll know if there’s a chance she’s changed, even if they’re still separated.”

“You could,” Jongdae agrees.

“I could,” Han nods, but he makes no move towards his phone. Instead, he offers Jongdae a small, but genuine, smile. “I won’t reply to her text. I can’t forgive her just yet, and by the time I might want to, she’ll have to work for it. It has been… easier, with her out of the picture.”

“You know I support whatever decision you make about her,” Jongdae says. “I understand wanting your mother’s love while knowing she doesn't deserve yours. Whatever you do, I’ll be here.”

Han’s smile lit up his eyes this time. “I know. Thank you.”

He doesn’t say I love you, but Jongdae feels warm all the same because he doesn’t need words to know.

It has been a while since I wrote something on the supportive side rather than just straight-up death. Yay! 

Thanks for reading!