My news of divorce doesn’t come as a surprise to my friends. Sooyoung has already pushed ahead with Operation: Free-Chan, which consists of a night or two of reckless (protected) with a stranger and a date with someone so extremely hot (in her words, not mine—so Yixing will realize that I’m still a catch, and it was his loss, not mine). Her options were not limited to one or the other because she thinks I can do both.

“ archaic standards! Divorce men women in their twenties at a rate higher than two-hundred percent. It’s time you take things into your own hands.” Sooyoung is still in the midst of her rant, and this is wildly inappropriate, considering that she’s the one throwing Lia’s first birthday that we are currently at. “Honey—“ She looks to her husband who is contributing gibberish to Lia’s pig-Latin discourse.

Jongin blinks from their child and nods to her.

“You agree with me, right?” She asks, waiting for confirmation.

He nods in a dazed-out-of-work-Jongin fashion.

“Did you even get a thing from our conversation?” She demands, arms crossed and a single eyebrow arched.

I sigh, opening my arms and urging Jongin to hand me Lia. “Jongin agrees with you, Soo. Hot girl summer is coming in brusque and fast for me, blah, blah, blah.”

Sooyoung is certainly not happy that I’m being sarcastic and “un-serious” about this “very important matter.”

In the end, I escape their semi-couple-in-love argument with Lia bouncing in my arms, happy and soothed by my impromptu airplane act with her as the pilot.

I grin when she puckers her lips, signaling that she indeed wanted a kiss. Since I’ve already had some wine, I tilt my head so that I can give my right cheek free reign to her.

“Lia, how can you give away your kisses so easily? Uncle’s hurt.”

The two of us turn abruptly at the voice speaking directly to Lia. Her eyes are bright and full of excitement, while mine are apprehensive.

“Dada,” she chirps, throwing her arms up and violently jostling in my arms.

I wince when one of her toes accidentally digs into my ribs. Seeing this, her “uncle” comes to the rescue, disentangling Lia from me. He twirls her around, softly muttering to her that she’s his sweet little bug.

His soft words melt my heart even if they aren’t directed at me. He’s a natural with her, and now I can see why Sooyoung’s so exasperated at Jongin’s workaholic habits. If I hadn’t known better, I’d probably mistake her uncle for her actual dad.

When his attention wanes from the small girl and back to me, he says, “it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I blink at him, not sure what he’s referring to. “Since I’ve seen her? Yeah, I guess—“

His smile comes off as mysterious. “Ah,” he releases, “you’ve forgotten me.”

I stand very still, strangely focused on trying to gain recognition of this stranger. Somewhere in the back of my mind, when I look at him, I feel like I know him. Like maybe he’s more than a random encounter I had on the streets. Even if I hadn’t seen him with Lia, I’d already dropped my guard the second he caught my attention.

My expression coaxes a chuckle from him, warm and silvery, it’s completely riveting to listen to. He’s so in tune with himself, so assure that even his sole presence radiates a gentle homeliness.

I haven’t felt that way with anybody in a long time. Not since Sehun disappeared off the face of Earth.

My mouth falls agape when that single random thought explodes into an earth-shattering realization. A gasp sputters out of me, and every single memory of him that I’ve buried peeks out from under the curtain.

His smile extends into amusement as I continue to watch him watch me.

“So you haven’t forgotten about me, then? Should I take that as a good sign?”

This Sehun looks completely different from my Sehun. In his place, his arms and legs extend for miles. His hair is neat, for the most part, soft and a startling black that makes his skin glow in the daylight. Its softness, rustling against each breeze that brushes us by, elicits this wistfulness in my chest. He’s grown up. I couldn’t know if he was the same person. He’s certainly learned how to take care of himself.

No longer courting his routine just-rolled-out-of-bed-hair, but more intentional messiness that fits just perfectly on this new side of adult Sehun.

My eyes accidentally, yet very carefully glide over each swell and slope of his muscles, completely intentional with its message. Look at me, it says. Touch me, it screams.

In the midst of my shock, someone’s child, one of Lia’s friends I suppose, run past me. My vision goes askew as I trip forward. I expect to feel the rough grass on my palms, a bruise sprouting on my knees, but what I didn’t expect was a mouthful of brushed cotton and to smell a very specific smell.

I never could figure out what it was, but I know it now.

It certainly can’t be traced to a singular, sole noun. No, it was the beginning of spring. When ice melts away, when dew feeds grass, when flowers sprout from buds to full and brightly-colored petals and long stems.

I push back onto my feet, trying to separate us and spare him from having to carry my entire weight as well as Lia’s.

But I’m beginning to realize that I’ve underestimated this adult version of him, because, truthfully, he’s doing just fine. That one arm of his stays tensed around my back, pinning me straight against his body—all hard lines and like the sizzling ray of sunshine, where skin meets skin, I burn.

Each heave of his chest sends us closer, and I’m worried he can feel my inappropriately fast pulse that says too much about this situation. So far, the me that’s trying to fit this stranger into my old friend’s body isn’t working for anybody, certainly not for my sound heart and sane mind.

“Oh, there she is—Lia, honey.” Jongin’s voice interrupts both of us, bursting the bubble that I’ve let go on for too long.

I push more forcefully, disengaging from him. I hurl an insincere smile at him, but my eyes can’t meet his.

Sooyoung trails not far behind her husband, and they hover near us. Jongin takes Lia from Sehun, who is now sulking from hunger—which we would’ve noticed sooner if we hadn’t been so encapsulated in our little makeshift world.

“She needs mommy milk,” Sooyoung sings.

I make a face. “I never want to hear that coming out of your mouth ever again.”

“Ditto, you’re disgusting,” Sehun says, not so shyly, this time.

Jongin snorts, earning a rough shove from his wife.

“I see you guys have met,” Sooyoung says, smiling like she hadn’t just committed an act of violence. “Chan, Sehun. Sehun, Chan. My mom remarried to his uncle a decade or so ago, and now he’s just my adorable little brother.”

“And you’re unbecoming of an older sister,” he deadpans.

I snort out a laugh, stifling it thereafter when Sehun glances at me, his gaze electric. “I see why you’re the way you are now.”

Sehun and Sooyoung both consider my words with curiosity.

“Me?” She points to herself.

Meanwhile, Sehun simply rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Since I’ve done nothing wrong.”

I’m amused and equally grateful that he can express his emotions much more animated and big as opposed to before.

“So—“ She chirps. “I’m gonna go feed my little girl.” Before she leaves, she turns to Sehun, shooting him a very serious big sister message. “No, you’re not allowed to touch Chan on any accords. She’s very delicate right now. She needs a man, not a brat.”

Then, she beams in my direction like she hadn’t just subliminally threatened to cut off his balls. “Enjoy the party, darling. Remember what I said. One hot man equals a jealous Yixing.”

Jongin waves at us, trailing after his wife with Lia babbling in his arms.

I expect the conversation to die with the two of them leaving, but Sehun breaks the silence between us.

“How do those two correlate? Is he an ex-boyfriend?”

My smile wanes, and I glance down at the band around my ring finger. His eyes follow suit, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ once he realizes.

“You’re married,” he surmises. His tone has dipped, and his happiness, also muted. I’d almost forgotten about his crush. I thought he’d have moved on by now. But to my surprise, his smile comes out completely genuine. My heart wilts at the brief interlude of sadness, but like lightning, it’s gone. “Are you happy with him?”

His question stuns me. When will adult Sehun cease to amaze me?

“We’re in the process of getting divorced.” My answer sounds detached like I’m reciting something that’s happening to someone else.

He doesn’t look glad to hear that in the slightest. Not at all. He’s sad. For me.

“Well, that’s awkward. Any sneaky links in store yet?”

I snort out a laugh, grateful he’s managed to lighten the atmosphere. “No way. Have you seen me?”

He tilts his head, certainly not understanding the context of my words. “What? Is there something that I should be seeing?”

“Ha. Ha. You can stop gassing me up now. No need to hold back. I’m like a flower that’s…wilted. I’m way too old to play the game.”

This makes him laugh, but I don’t join him. So, he pauses, blinking. “Wait. You were being serious?”

My answer is a weighted look of acknowledgment.

He sighs. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t think I needed to say this out loud.” He pulls a hand through his hair, and it easily passes through. “He must’ve been an idiot. Your beauty didn’t just one day decide to reach its expiration date. You’re ing surreal, okay? You still are.

“I’m not going to lie and say you haven’t aged a day. The truth is, I still can’t grasp that you’re this elegant, modern-day woman now. If not, you’ve just become so much more out of reach for—“

He wants to say for me. I know he does, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues on, “just because he no longer wants you doesn’t mean there aren’t guys jumping at a chance to hold your hand.”

My cheeks grow hot, and I release a bated breath. “Sehun—“

“Don’t worry about me, noona. I know my place.” His smile twists into something bitter, and the metallic tang in my mouth only grows more unbearable. “It’s nice to hear you say my name again, though. I missed you.”

My words die on my tongue, and I only blink in deaf silence as he bids me goodbye with a look and walks away along with the notion of what used to be my Sehun.

But, little did he know, a part of me wanted him to turn around again and tell me every detail of his life that I missed out on.

In big-bolded letters, I so desperately wanted to know what kind of man he grew up to be.

[a/n] i'm not going to force word length on my chapters for this fic. i want each chapter to build and reach an emotional peak. hahahar. sorry i went like full writer mode with the metaphors and syntax. whoop, my creative writing class actually helped???

soooo i'm kinda in love with how tangible sehun feels in this fic. he's so real in a fictional-men-are-better-than-real-men way. i'm in love with emily henry and how she writes, so here's me channeling my inner emily henry.

i have a workshop on tuesday for my creative writing class, and i'm sharing the first chapter of tbt. bro i'm so nervous that they'll hate my writing.