20 weeks

It isn't much of a surprise, though she hoped – oh, how she hoped – it was Siwon's. Slowly – almost without thinking – she lets it drop from her hand, and takes one deep breath before letting out a muffled scream. She claps a hand over , not because she's particularly afraid of anyone hearing – rather, she's afraid that if she starts, she won't be able to stop.

Hyunjae's. Of course it would be – of course she couldn't catch a break. Oh, god – what is she – how is she supposed to deal with this? She's screwed – so screwed, because now Hyunjae and his entire family have a stake in this baby's welfare, and they won't take too kindly to one of their own being raised by a Choi.

Siwon. Oh, Siwon.

clenches on a sob, and she presses the heels of her hands against her eyes as if it will push it all away. She wants him. She needs him.

But she knows he won't stay.

It doesn't matter what he said. It doesn't matter about wedding rings and the sanctity of marriage vows. When it all comes down to it, blood is thicker than water, and a child that isn't yours is easy to ignore. He can back away slowly and no one will think any the less of him. It's all her fault, after all. She spread her legs, she got pregnant; she's the one who will have to carry the evidence of her shame and damn that poor Kim boy to a life of regret. No one will think of her. No one will care. She's simply something to gossip about – not a person, with feelings and thoughts and fears.

Just the latest scandal.

***

Narae doesn't need to ask. She knows from her reaction who the father is. “Are you going to tell him?” She asks quietly.

Hyerin finds it within her to snort. She's not really amused, but the fact that Narae's first reaction is to ask whether or not she'll tell Siwon says a lot about their values. But then, it is hardly their fault; their mothers taught them that a well-timed lie is infinitely more useful. Honesty never works out.

The truth hurts, and who wants that?

Her voice doesn't sound right. It is rusty and hoarse, as if she hasn't used it for quite a while. “I have to,” she says dully, “he'll find out anyway, when it comes out and looks nothing like him.”

She may be a tad hysterical.

Narae decides to follow the same humorous vein. “Well, if it looks like you, he might never know.”

Hyerin does not laugh. “I can't catch a break.” She laces her fingers together, the letter discarded on her bed. “What am I going to do?” Her voice catches on a sob, and her eyes fill with tears. Narae watches sadly, unable to think of anything comforting to say.

There is nothing comforting to say. Even if Siwon stays, people will still talk. People will still disapprove. It will still be a nightmare of epic proportions, and – though she tries to quash it – she can't help the relief that it's not her in this situation.

“Just tell him,” she says, as soothingly as she can muster. “Siwon is a good man.” A good man who loves her, but she knows Hyerin isn't ready to hear that. “He'll stand by you.”

Hyerin is shivering, but she knows it's not from the cold. “Will he?” It's a rhetorical question. “Will he?”

Narae is not in the habit of lying to her best friend, closer than a sister. “I don't know,” she says quietly. “I think he will.”

It's not so much a distrust of Siwon himself that causes her to say this; it's more that both she and Hyerin have no real reason to see why he would stay. The men of their acquaintance don't stay when the going gets tough – they throw money at the problem, and walk away, usually into the arms of a much less complicated woman.

It's what Hyerin's father did. And – no matter how much she loves him – it's what her father did, too.

Hyerin brushes a lone tear away from the corner of her eye. “I thought I'd solved the problem,” she says bitterly, “I thought I'd be safe.”

“We're never safe,” Narae says, shrugging. It's true. They're women, and women in the public eye at that. There can be no safety when your entire life is scrutinised – when you're castigated for wearing the wrong thing, or gaining just the tiniest bit of weight. They're temporary and fleeting, only interesting when they're young and beautiful – but the words thrown at them will stick for the rest of their lives.

Look at their mothers. Well past the accepted age of beauty in the media, they are still clawing for some kind of power, still looking for validation, and for what? Being the most useless person alive? It's not like they do anything good for society.

Hyerin looks down at her stomach, where the baby is still growing. “I guess the baby won't be either.” If Siwon does accept her and the baby, it will forever be torn between two families. The Kims – despite Hyunjae's disinterest – will stake their claim because they can. It's a form of power; if the Choi's newest addition is actually theirs, well, that should keep them under their thumb.

She falls silent. Such a mess. Such a huge, chaotic mess.

“I need to be alone,” she says quietly. Narae knows she's being dismissed, and part of her wants to stay and keep her best friend going, but the other part knows this is when she has to step back.

“Just call if you need me,” she says instead, Hyerin nods listlessly.

She can't help the sense of foreboding in her gut.

***

Of course, she cannot escape everyone – especially not Siwon, who knocks on the door not fifteen minutes after Narae leaves her to it.

“Hyerin?” He sounds hesitant, and she wonders if, somehow, he just knows it's not his. She looks down at her lap, the letter held in one limp hand.

She doesn't say anything.

“Sweetheart?” He tries again, this time a little louder. He raps on the door twice. “Can I come in?” Part of her is curious to know why he's actually asking.

She stays quiet once more, too scared to open . He seems to take this as an affirmative. “Look, I'm coming in, darling,” he says quietly, sounding a little wary.

The door creaks open, and she doesn't bother looking up, instead screwing the letter up in her hand. She doesn't want him to look at it, to see the extent of it all – how there is literally no chance it is his.

He kneels in front of her, taking one of her hands in his. “Hyerin, just tell me,” he is gentle, careful, as if talking to a child in the middle of a tantrum. “What happened?”

She shakes her head, fingers digging into the crumpled paper ball. “I don't want to talk about it,” she says coldly. She can see him flinch out of the corner of her eye.

He swallows. “Hyerin, this affects me too. You can't keep me out of it.” There's a warning in his voice, a warning that scares her because if he gets angry, then she has no idea what she'll do. She doesn't react well to anger; she always seemed to make her mother angrier when they fought, and if she got into an argument with Siwon...she doesn't even know what to think.

“I can't,” she mumbles, not even able to look at him. There's a strange mixture of shame and defiance and fear churning inside of her. She wants to tell him it's his, even if his blood does not run in its veins; she wants to lie and say it is his, of course it is, but he'll see through the lie. She knows he will.

Something changes, a frisson in the air becoming charged with something she knows isn't good. He lets go of her hand, and almost automatically, she reaches for him as he stands up, looming over her in the way only tall men can.

“Is it mine?” He can't help the anger in his voice, can't help the way he looms over her in a way that he knows is threatening. Because this is how it all ends, and there's a part of him that's desperate for her to say it's his and that they're tied together in a way that is unbreakable.

“I –” She gulps, staring up at him. Her hands clench; she steps back and he can see her retreating back into her protective shell. “I don't – ”

Anger explodes inside of him, fear crystallising into fury because it's easier to deal with. He backs away, the anger visible in every line of his body. “Don't you dare try and bull me, Hyerin. I know you know.” His eyes flash. “Is. It. Mine?” He bites off.

Her world – having already crashed to pieces around her – wobbles once more. “No,” she whispers, cheek twitching as she tries to control herself. Saying the words makes her feel sick. “It's Hyunjae's.”

He let out a shocked breath, turning away and she can't help herself – she reaches for him. “Siwon, please – ”

“No,” he says, refusing to look at her. He takes another step away from her. “No,” he repeats, and despite the anger, she can see the pain in his eyes.

A split second decision takes place, spurred on by anger and heartbreak clouding better judgement. He will regret the decision later, but right now, he cannot stop himself.

He turns on his heel, and walks out the door.