18-19 weeks

It's dark in her bedroom, the moon's faint illumination only able to help her gauge shapes. It's quiet, too, the only sounds her slow breathing and Minki's soft, catty snores. Siwon is quiet in his sleep, eyes shut as he holds her close.

His warmth is comforting, instead of cloying, and she nestles closer, having given up on sleep several minutes ago. It's too hard. Every time she shuts her eyes, images of people's shocked, gleeful faces and that damnable Gossip Girl blast flutter across her eyelids, and it's impossible to relax. Her mind won't stop whirring, counting and discounting contingency plans with speed.

The only thing she can be sure of is just how scared she is, and she doesn't want to admit that to herself. Fear is a weakness she can't afford; she knows too many people who would exploit that fear for all it's worth. So she buries her face against Siwon's chest, and breathes slowly, deeply. It's something she learnt from yoga, but she supposes it's useful in any sort of situation.

But even as she forces her heart-rate to slow down, she can feel the thickness in and the shudder in her chest. She presses her face against Siwon's chest, harder this time, and tries to ignore the silent sobs that wrack through her.

This isn't what she's like. She isn't emotional, she isn't out of control – she doesn't end up in a situation like this.

She runs a hand over the hard swell of her belly. Nearly twenty weeks. Almost halfway. She gulps. It's so – so big. When she mentions this to Siwon, he scoffs and tells her it's only obvious if you know what to look for – as they do – but he's wrong. When she looks in the mirror, it's the first thing she sees, the bulge of her stomach forcing her gaze away.

It's unavoidable now. There's definitely a baby in there, growing and growing. Alive. It makes her twitch, sometimes, when she's in bed at night, and her stomach growls or twinges with indigestion. She dreads the moment when she can feel it move, because then it will be...real. She knows it exists – can't deny its presence – but once it gets to the point where its movements can be felt, well, it's the point of no return.

Five months. Past the abortion stage. Skidding straight towards the 'viable' stage. If it was born right now, it probably wouldn't stand a chance of living, but there is that possibility, and it shouldn't, but the very idea terrifies her.

What is she going to do with a baby? How is she supposed to care for it when she doesn't even want it? How is she supposed to keep it in her life when she would rather it didn't exist? And how – just how – is she supposed to move past the big reveal that has destroyed her life?

Even if she refuses the paternity test, people will still talk. They'll say she has something to hide, that she knows it isn't the Choi boy's, and she's just covering her tracks. But she can't – she just can't.

She doesn't want to know whose child she carries; doesn't want to resent this child even more for being the wrong man's baby. It would make it near impossible to carry this on, and even Siwon's vehement denial can't keep the fear at bay.

He could walk away if it was Hyunjae's. And then what would she do? Where would she go?

Nowhere. And that's what scares her. She'd be left alone with a baby she can't even look at.

***

When they wake up the next morning, she refuses to move from her bed, protesting weakly when Siwon moves to open the curtains. Not today. She can't deal with anything today, and if he tries to make her, she'll just burrow further under the covers.

But Siwon is nothing if not persistent, and after several minutes of extreme tickling, she grumpily pokes her head out of her blanket and tells him to piss off.

He doesn't, instead choosing to attempt to coax her into eating. She shuts off when he mentions that she needs to eat – “if only for the baby's sake” – but gives in anyway.

“Fine,” she mumbles, as he rewards her with tiny, darting kisses down the length of her neck, “fine.”

His fingers tangle in the untidy mess of her hair, moving it out of the way so that he can kiss a particular spot behind her ear that he seems to find endlessly fascinating. She throws her head back, fighting back a smile as his other hand makes the now familiar journey towards her underwear. “Is this bribery?” She asks, her voice deliberately husky. “Are you using to get your way?”

He chuckles against her neck, and she snickers back in return at the weird sensation. “I don't think there'd be any point,” he teases, her plucking at her underwear, “it takes nothing to get you into bed, after all.”

“Only for you, darling,” she says, only a little sarcastically.

He pulls back to toss her underwear on the floor, her leg almost automatically hooking around his hips when he returns to her. “I should hope so,” he murmurs, lips ghosting above hers. He's so close that she can see depth of his undereye circles, and her stomach gives a funny jolt when she thinks they're probably caused by her. “I'm the one you're married to.”

“I did make vows to that effect, didn't I?” She agrees, her arms laced behind his neck. Pressed against his body like this, she can feel him hardening against her thigh. She smiles, rolling them over so she's on top.

“Well, I better get to fulfilling them, then, hadn't I?” She whispers, canting her hips against his. He groans in response.

She's not above using to get her way.

***

Of course, nothing ever goes her way, even as they lie sleepy and sated together. Sungah's gentle, but insistent, knock interrupts the serene silence she's been enjoying.

She cracks an eye open, and sighs in annoyance. “Yes?” She calls, tone displeased. Sungah should know not to bother her – she's trained her in that, at least.

“Someone's here to see you,” Sungah replies, sounding tense. She pulls herself upwards.

“Who?” If it's the press, they can off, she thinks. “I don't want to be disturbed, Sungah.” The last few words are a warning, and the discreet cough tells her Sungah knows that.

“It's Hyunjae, miss,” she says urgently, “and he's very anxious to see you.” The derisive way she says the word anxious makes it obvious that she doesn't think much of Hyunjae.

But then, she never did. She was always telling her that he was trouble, she reflects bitterly. Look how right she was.

She curses loudly, shaking Siwon awake. He stares at her blearily for a moment, clearly confused by the hard look on her face. “Honey?” He asks, sounding perturbed. “What's wrong.”

“Hyunjae's here,” she says flatly, clenching her hands into fists so that he cannot see how her hands are shaking. “He wants to talk.”

Siwon sits up, his expression almost as unhappy as hers. “What do we do?”

She draws herself up, back straight. “We tell him what's what, and then we make him go away.” She stands up, her back to him. “I don't want him as a part of my life,” she says quietly, not able to look at him as she says her next words, “especially now I have you.”

***

“Hyerin,” Hyunjae nods at her, lips pressed tight. “Siwon.”

Siwon squeezes her hand tightly, and she forces a smile for him. “Yes?” She says, her voice cold. She sounds firm. She sounds unconcerned, merely curious.

Of course, inside she's fighting to keep her hands from shaking, but nobody needs to know that. “You know why I'm here,” Hyunjae shifts uncomfortably, lips curling in distaste. “We have a...problem that needs taking care of.”

Siwon straightens his shoulders, and speaks before she can. His big, macho show of being in control of the situation doesn't send sparks through her groin; it just sends a faint wave of irritation through her. She can fight her own battles, even if she doesn't want to.

She's not his weak little woman. She won't be.

“We've already taken care of it,” he speaks through gritted teeth, and she fights to keep her eyes from rolling. The tension is palpable, and she didn't think she'd find anything funny about this situation, but this is just stupid.

“You don't have to worry, Hyunjae,” she says, smiling humourlessly. “We got married,” – it still sounds so bizarre to say that out loud – “you don't have to take...” her lips twist, “responsibility.”

The surprise in his eyes is oddly insulting. What, did he think no one would take her? She looks closer. Yes, he did, she realises, mouth tightening into a solid line. “So it's not mine?” He asks, the relief obvious.

She shrugs, hoping to god her fear isn't noticeable. “Doesn't matter,” she says softly. “It doesn't affect you.”

The venom contained in that one little word takes Hyunjae aback, and then – she knows. She blames him. Blames him for his perfect life, for his easy dismissal of their relationship, for using her as the pretty social-climbing tool on his arm.

Did he ever even really like her?

She feels sick. Bastard. None of this has any bearing on his easy little life. The most he would have had to do was marry her, and even then, that would only be a small inconvenience. She's a good match. Rich. Well-bred. A good lineage. Like a ing broodmare. And it would never have stopped him having his dalliances, oh no – she'd be the wife, the one expected to keep her smile bright and even as her husband ed his way through her pool of friends and acquaintances.

And if it really was so intolerable, he'd only have to wait a couple of years before divorce was an option. Marriage is nothing more than a dynastic alliance, after all.

Hyunjae pulls himself together, clearly not bothered by her anger. “So you'll put out it's Choi's?” He nods towards Siwon, who looks decidedly unimpressed. But then Hyunjae is weak, spoiled. He doesn't think of morals – of responsibility – as Siwon does. “And bury this silly little Gossip Girl blast?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she forces the words she really wants to say down. “As much as we can.” And you can go back to doing nothing, she thinks.

“Good.” He smiles, a flash of expensive veneers and perfect orthodontic work. “I must say, I'm surprised.” He gives her an appraising look. “I thought you'd make it a lot harder than this.”

The urge to punch the smirk off his face is unexpectedly strong, but she contents herself with squeezing Siwon's hand as hard as she can. “I'd rather not raise your child,” she says sweetly, falling back on her talent for kindly-worded insults. “And I want this mess cleared up even faster than you do.” She breathes out slowly. “Siwon was the better, no – the right – choice.”

Keeping the serene smile on her face is difficult when she wants to smirk, but she turns away, instead, calling for Sungah. “Please direct Mr Kim out,” she tells her.

She doesn't miss Sungah's secret little smirk of her own. “This way, Mr Kim,” she says respectfully, bowing at him. He stands there for a second, not sure whether he should pursue the insult or run away before she has the chance to drag him back into this mess.

In the end, he – predictably – takes the chance to flee. She lets out a sigh of relief, locking her knees together when she registers their trembling. Her whole body is trembling, in fact, and she pulls away from Siwon to curl up on the sofa, arms wrapped around herself.

Her stomach flips somersaults, and she digs her nails into her elbows, forcing her body to listen to her. She can't let go. Not now. Not when Hyunjae is still in her building, his obsequious charm winning over the nosy residents of her building as he assures them that he has no part in this scandal, none at all.

He's clean as a whistle, and all too happy to brand her with the scarlet letter of a .

***

There's no brief interlude for Siwon to convince her everything's okay, because within the hour, his phone goes off, and though she urges him to ignore it – cajoles him to stay with her, he refuses.

Because that's his father's ringtone, and you do not refuse the elder Choi. Since his infancy, Siwon has been bred to jump to his father's orders. He says jump, you jump. There is no discussion. There is no refusal.

She hears very little of the conversation, because he leaves her to step into her – their, she supposes – bedroom, and though his voice never rises above his usual polite baritone, she can tell the conversation is rapidly becoming a discussion.

Her stomach twists itself in knots as she creeps over to the door, needing to hear as much as she can.

“Dad, you can't – no,” she can imagine him setting his jaw in the way he does when he doesn't like what he's being told. “I'm not asking her to do that.”

She knows that he's referring to her. Who else would it be?

“It's dangerous,” she hears, a hint of anger in his tone. A pause settles, before she hears him grit his teeth. “So you're telling me you'd rather my wife miscarry your grandchild than be unsure of its paternity.” He scoffs increduously. "That's low, even for you."

It's strange to hear him call her his wife so openly, stranger still to hear the silence that befalls them as Siwon realises what he's said. “I married her,” he says simply, and there's almost a hint of smugness in his tone.“There's nothing you can do, dad,” he sounds oddly proud, and she begins to wonder if this is something of a rebellion for him too. “It's done.”

The thought makes her uncomfortable – so she draws back from the door, sneaks back into the sofa, gut churning uneasily.

She doesn't want to admit to herself that the very idea makes her heart cringe.

***

Siwon's face is drawn when he opens the door, and immediately, she goes to him. The look on his face assures her that she will not like what he has to tell her.

“My father,” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, “he – ” he lets out a breath, “wants us to do a paternity test,” he says quietly.

Her world shudders. “Oh,” she responds, unable to articulate anything more.

He looks guilty, but she doesn't really register anything but the torrent of terrified thoughts swirling in her head. “Baby, you know – you know it won't matter, right?” He unfurls her fingers from the fists she didn't know she was clenching. “I'm not going anywhere, and you don't even have to say yes.”

She mutters something incomprehensible, and totters over to her bed, sitting in it gently. He watches her as she goes, knowing well enough to leave her alone for the moment. Her feet are in agony, the normal pressure of her high heels combined with the tight straps pressing into the flesh of her feet causing more pain than she's accustomed to in these shoes. When she unbuckles them, her feet are covered in angry red welts, imprints of expensive leather and lace, and it all seems so pointless. Why does she even bother to dress up? Why does she even care about what they all think?

Why does she do this to herself?

She kicks the shoes away, her fit of temper quickly subsiding into panic. What is she going to do? What the hell is the protocol for a situation like this? How does one consent to a paternity test on their unborn child gracefully, and keep face at the same time?

You don't, she thinks wryly. You disappear. That's what everyone else does. They run away and let it blow over, and when they return, everyone pretends it never happened, while secretly gossiping about it. Oh, there have been girls with illegitimate babies before – but they married quickly and found themselves respectable once more. Or they simply...vanished, then returned just as mysteriously, bodies perfect again and a tired look in their eyes.

She is married, but that won't save her. She's technically an adulterer; carrying a child who possibly isn't your husband's is probably breaking the wedding vows in some way. If she hadn't made such a spectacle of herself – oh, how her mother's words ring in her ear – she could have been saved. If Gossip Girl hadn't sent that malicious little post out, she could have got past this.

But now she can't.

A hysterical chuckle bubbles it's way past . Her hands are shaking, she realises, and her body is shivering even though her apartment is perfectly warm. At first, she wonders if she's shivering with fear, and then she understands.

She's shaking with anger. Anger at the people who mock her, the people who judge her; fury at her mother for being part of the problem, and a tangled mass of rage directed at Gossip Girl for outing her secret. She's married. She's supposed to be safe. She did what she was supposed to. Why did that have to ruin it?

And then there's her resentment of the child. It's helpless, true – probably even blameless. But that doesn't mean she can forgive its existence. It doesn't mean she can love it like everyone expects her to.

Especially not when it might rid her of what she desires most.

“Hyerin,” she turns her head, surprised, almost, to see him kneeling next to her. “You have to believe me. I'm not going anywhere,” he promises, the sincerity in his eyes startling.

She rewards him by keeping the words “I can't” to herself.

***

The next job on her ever-growing list of problems to solve is her relationship with her best friend. She's heard nothing from her so far, and she knows it's Narae's way of punishing her – pushing her to come to her first. When they meet – at Narae's place, naturally, because god forbid she come to Hyerin and actually make her anger explicit – she knows she's ed up.

“Hyerin.” Narae's stiff nod almost mirrors Hyunjae's emotionless greeting, and her stomach sinks. She knows what this means. It means Narae is hurt; that she's angry – but that she's not going to say anything.

Narae doesn't say anything. She makes you come to her – makes you force her anger out of her so it's not her fault. It's why she managed to hide her eating disorder for so long – why, no matter how many times Hyerin urged her to talk because Narae was and probably always will be one of the very few people she cares about, she kept mum.

So she rushes in with the apologies, because she can't lose her best friend too. Not after everything else. Not when her life is falling apart at the seams. “I'm sorry, Narae. I mean it. I didn't mean – I didn't want...it all happened so fast,” she finishes lamely, and she knows it's not enough. “I would never keep this from you deliberately.”

“Keep what?” Narae raises one eyebrow, picking at something invisible on her sleeve. She should have told her earlier, she thinks, as the words I married Siwon stick in .

“I – ” she swallows, and Narae just continues to pick at her sleeve, worrying at a thread of embroidery.

“What?” She says impatiently, not impressed by Hyerin's impression of a fish. “You can't just ignore me for week and then just expect me to immediately understand what you're trying to say,” she snaps crossly, and Hyerin knows she's struck something deep.

You don't abandon Park Narae unless you want her to freeze you out, and if you do make that mistake, you submit, or woe betide you.

“I married Siwon.” It comes out in a rush, but it's almost a relief to say it – to actually vocalise it to someone other than Siwon himself.

Of all the things she could say, she's pretty confident that Narae was not expecting that one. Her head snaps up, eyes wide in surprise. “Y-you what?”

“I married Siwon.” She repeats the words slowly, watching as shock twists Narae's ordinarily beautiful face. It almost makes her seem more human; for once, she is less of a celestial being, preternaturally perfect.

“How could you just...do that?” She says disbelievingly. “Just...marry him, on a whim, and not even tell me what you were doing?”

The judgement stings, but she ignores it. She knows Narae was never going to think well of her for doing it. “It wasn't on a whim.” She doesn't even know what it was on. “I – I...it was a good solution,” she mutters, not ready to tell her that she was selfish. That Siwon makes her feel things she can't explain, things she cannot verbalise. She doesn't know how to tell her he makes everything...better.

“Solution?” Narae splutters, but doesn't laugh, and she thanks her for that. “You married him without even thinking because it was the best solution?” She shakes her head. “No, Hyerin,” her voice softens as she sighs, “I know you. He asked, didn't he? He offered. And you couldn't say no.”

She sighs again, and Hyerin's hackles rise, though she refuses to let that show. “So what, Rae?” She's tired – so, so tired of doing everything wrong and people judging her for it. “Maybe this is what we want,” she says stubbornly.

Narae just looks at her. “What if it's not his?” She gestures to her stomach, hidden in the voluminous folds of her coat. “What then?”

“He said he doesn't care.” Her chin rises defiantly, almost automatically.

Narae sighs once more, but this time, it's not a sigh of judgement. “I hope so, Hyerin, I hope so. I don't want him to hurt you.”

It's the first time she can admit the same. “I don't either,” she whispers. “But I don't know what else to do.”

Her best friend says nothing for a moment, her inscrutable stare revealing nothing. Eventually, she speaks. “Well, .” Narae sighs, folding her arms underneath her s. “I really have no idea what to wear to a paternity hearing.”

***

She doesn't even have to see Hyunjae again; he gives his blood sample discreetly, and then disappears as soon as he can. Siwon does his right in front of her, glaring at his father, who demanded he be allowed to attend so that he can be sure it's his son's blood they take. He just watches with his typical stoic expression, unfazed by his son's anger.

He has never been afraid of putting his son in his place, after all

The nurse is polite, and efficient, drawing blood from a particularly prominent vein in the crook of Siwon's elbow. She holds his other hand loosely, heart thudding nervously as the moment she will have to give her own sample draws near.

He smiles at her, wincing a little as the nurse takes the needle from his arm. “I'm here,” he says lowly, his fingers interlocking with hers. His father watches dispassionately. “It's going to be fine.”

She nods, head spinning. In a moment, she'll have to go and sit in the chair herself – but she won't get a simple blood sample taken from her arm, oh no. A frighteningly large needle will pierce her abdomen, in order to take a DNA sample from the foetus itself, and she can't deny she's scared.

It's going to hurt, she knows, but the only other option was a cervical sample, and the idea was too much for her to contemplate. Not in front of Siwon; not in front of the world. She's already been spread out for the world to see, she doesn't need to physically spread her legs to prove she's a . For them to invade her in the most private place like that  – no, it is not to be borne.

Siwon pushed for a noninvasive test, because it was both less painful for her and carried no risk to the baby, but his father refused. It would take too long to find a clinic who offered that service, he said, but secretly, she thinks he just wants to punish her for dragging his family name through the mud. She's just a woman, to him. She's disposable. And the baby? Well, it really would be very simple if she lost it, now, wouldn't it?

She swallows, and lets Siwon take her arm as they lead her to the room. She sits down, and without speaking, pulls her blouse up over her stomach. Siwon holds her hand, and she grips it so hard it shakes, staring at the needle the doctor wields with wide, terrified eyes.

“Don't worry,” the doctor says kindly, “over a thousand tests, and not a miscarriage yet.” She forces a smile for her, unable to tell her that that isn't what she's worried about.

As the needle sinks in, she bites her lip, her hand clutching Siwon's tight enough to hurt. For half a second, she wonders what is happening inside of her – if the baby is reacting to the needle in its safe, warm little world. It won't know what it is. It won't know that this test is dictating its future – that this test will have a huge bearing on its very identity.

“You're doing great, darling,” Siwon murmurs, and she nods, leaning her head against his shoulder. He kisses the top of it. “It's almost over.”

It's not true, though. It's only over when they get the results and that – well, that is something she isn't looking forward to at all.

***

The samples get sent to a lab who can turn them around in a matter of days, for a large amount of money – which they have, of course. Perhaps they could even be bribed, but she sees little point in that when blood doesn't lie and she knows Siwon's father will ask for further tests if he comes out tops.

She spends the next few days in bed, and no amount of pleading from Siwon, Sungah, or even the cat will get her to move. As Minki meows loudly for the sixth time, she rubs his ears between her fingers, smiling faintly when he immediately starts purring. “Sungah will feed you,” she tells him, “why are you whining at me?”

Minki chirps loudly, not impressed, and flops over onto his back so that he can have his tummy tickled. She rolls her eyes, but leans over him, scratching his belly. She's so occupied by his happy purring, and then his playful grabbing of her hand between his paws and the frenzied biting that follows when he gets bored that she doesn't even realise they've called in the big guns.

She barely reacts when Narae sits beside her and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You can't stay in bed forever, you know,” she says, amused. “Club bed is over.” She slides across a heavy, cream envelope as she talks, the expensive stationary indicative of the private lab contacted to give them the results.

Oh, no. She stares at it for a second, then back down at her belly, visibly straining against her nightclothes now. “I'm not ready,” she responds immediately, pushing it back towards Narae. “No.” The word is more forceful than she intended, but she doesn't apologise. She's not ready. She can't.

“You need to open it, honey,” Narae says gently, proffering the envelope. “You need to know.”

She wants to tell her that she really doesn't need to know, that she's quite happy living in ignorance, but there's a firm, no-nonsense look in Narae's eyes, and she knows she's not going to get away with that.

It would be so much easier if she could lie – if she could rip the envelope up, and just say that her baby is her husband's and everything is fine. Why does she need to know? Siwon wouldn't care, he promised – he swore that he wouldn't.

“I don't want to.” She is stubborn, because she's scared and her heartbeat is so violently fast she can feel it thudding against her ribcage. “I don't need to know anything.”

Narae's expression is sad, and she hates it. She hates the pity, but she loves her for it too, because she needs her now, when everything is so wrong that there's no normality to cling to. How can everything change in such a short period of time?

“I know you don't,” she pushes the envelope towards her once more, “but it will eat you up if you don't. Do it quickly,” she tells her, a half-smile on her lips, “like ripping off a plaster.”

When she says nothing in response, Narae sighs. “Hyerin, you didn't do that test for nothing. Are you really going to let it go to waste?”

She's about to say that yes, yes she is, but then her stomach lurches at the thought of lying to Siwon, and she thinks if she does do it, then it will only be for him.

“But what if it's not his?” Her words are blunt, and sharp, cutting to the crux of the matter. She wants to collapse – to cry and beg and plead with Narae not to make her do this, but that would be weak, and she's tired of being weak.

Narae looks at her. “Rin, he's not going anywhere.” She prays that she is telling the truth, because she knows if she's wrong, it will tear Hyerin apart. “All this is is a piece of paper. Just something you have to do to sort out the legalities of it all.” Because if it's not Siwon's, then it won't be his heir, and that's what the Choi's care about. They both know that.

She shuts her eyes, and pulls the envelope towards her. Her hands shake as she tears open the envelope and when she opens her eyes, the contents are simple: one piece of paper, a lot of medical mumbo-jumbo and a terrifyingly large percentage staring back at her.

Father: Kim, Hyunjae.

There are two Gossip Girl quotes in this chapter. If you can spot them, I will...I don't know what I'll do, but I'll probably squeal with glee. :D