The next few weeks are a haze of rushed visits to the hospital, and frenzied preparations for taking her baby home. He's almost a month old, and he's doing well. He's grown exponentially, gained weight, and he's looking healthier and heavier. When he cries, he's louder than he was at birth, and when he les, he is so greedy that she marvels at his appetite.

All she wants to do is take him home. She's registered his birth – and he is now officially hers: Song Jinhwan, mother, Song Hyerin. Father – unregistered.

And that's really the only fly in the ointment. She can deal with the media trying to push their noses into her business, she can cope with the fact that her son will probably have breathing problems all his life. It's really nothing compared to not having him at all.

But there is a raw, gaping hole in her life, and it's been left to fester. She hasn't patched up anything with Siwon, and she hasn't seen him since their argument. He hasn't visited the baby, either. Part of her wonders if he's finally done with her, if he's done with her child, and though she supposes he's got no reason to stay, she finds herself hoping against hope that he'll walk back through that door and things will be fixed.

But he won't, because they're both stubborn as mules, and they're waiting for the other to come forward. She knows that if she wants him back, she has to find him. She has to say sorry.

She has to decide that he is what she wants, instead of just letting their feelings for one another carry them along. And really – that decision was made months ago. He was right. She's just been too scared too confront how much she needs him.

It's not that she can't do this on her own. Something she's learned over these lonely few weeks is that she is capable of dealing with myriad crises on her own. Sure, she's scared, and she screws up a lot, and a lot of the time, she thinks she might be hurting Jinhwan rather than helping him – but she can do it.

When he cries, she knows the right way of rocking him. She can differentiate between his hungry cry, and his dirty nappy cry. She can put a nappy on one-handed and best of all, she can love her son, because he's hers, and she is his.

And that's sometimes the only thing that gets her through, when she's home alone and crippled with terror at the idea that she will be raising a baby – a baby who needs even more care than most – by herself. She loves him, loves him so much that the best isn't enough for him. She knows that even if she won't fight for herself, she'll fight for him.

***

The baby is fractious tonight, squalling loudly even when she rocks him in the particular way he likes, and she wonders if he knows something is wrong. He's sometimes cranky and restless for no reason, and she can't help but wonder if he is aware that Siwon isn't coming back. He was a part of her son's life for only a week, but that's a quarter of his life so far. It's still a large part.

“Jinhwan, please,” she begs him tiredly, rubbing his little back gently, “calm down.”

It doesn't work. He carries on sobbing as if he's being tortured, and she sighs. There's nothing she can do. He's been fed, his nappy is clean, and she's laid him in every position she can think of. He simply refuses to be comforted.

One of the nurses looks up from the baby she is changing. She gives her a sympathetic look. “Is he not going down?”

She shakes her head, lips twisting tiredly. “No. I've tried everything.” She looks down at the top of his fluffy head, his red face against her shoulder. “He just wants to scream,” she says, exasperated.

The nurse tuts, taping the nappy shut. “Sometimes you just have to let them scream,” she shrugs. “With my two, sometimes there was nothing I could do.” She rolls her eyes. “Until their dad came home. Then they shut right up because daddy picked them up.” She shakes her head, smiling fondly at the memory.

Jinhwan hiccups as her hand stills on his back. She bites her lip, not sure what to say – because if it is Siwon he wants, well, they're ed. She sighs, cuddling his warm little weight close. “Is that what you want, baby?” She asks sadly, “you want your daddy?”

He gives a tiny, unhappy squawk in response.

***

The next day, she lets Narae drag her shopping. She has avoided doing anything in public for the past few weeks, uncomfortable with the constant media attention, and her life has separated into two parts: with Jinhwan, and without Jinhwan. It almost feels strange to be doing something as normal as having coffee with her best friend. It's as if the past eight months have never happened, and everything is as it was – no baby, no broken heart, no nothing.

But once you look a little closer, the changes are obvious. There's a reporter surreptitiously looking their way, two girls discussing the brazen cheek of her being out in the open in very loud whispers in the corner, and the full-to-bursting bags of shopping by their feet are emblazoned with the logos of baby boutiques. She's also drinking decaf, which she would never have bothered with before.

“So,” Narae prods her with one foot, “are you ever going to explain why Siwon has disappeared off the face of the Earth?”

She avoids her best friend's curious eyes, and stirs her coffee instead. She's been hoping to avoid this question, preferably until she dies.

But Narae is not one to be ignored. “Hyerin,” she warns, “I'll find out one way or another. I'll even ask Siwon myself if I have to.”

She can't help herself. She raises her head to glare at Narae suspiciously. “You wouldn't.”

Narae smiles smugly at having got her to react. “I would.” She nudges her with her foot again, and absently, Hyerin notices that she's wearing a pair of Louboutins she's never seen before. When did she get them? How much has she managed to miss, trapped at home as she has been?

She sighs dramatically. “Do I have to tell you?” She pleads, turning big, soulful eyes on her best friend. “I've already got so much to deal with.”

Narae snorts, unmoved. “Yes, you do.” She pushes her coffee towards her. “Drink up,” she says encouragingly, “and explain exactly what you did wrong.”

“Why do you assume it was me?” Hyerin cries indignantly, quashing the small voice that reminds her it was mostly her fault.

“Because you looked guilty as hell when I found you, and the nurse said you told her you did a bad thing,” Narae answers promptly. “And also, because it had to be you. The man is utterly infatuated with you. I doubt he's capable of doing the slightest thing to upset you.”

Hyerin grumbles half-heartedly. “He could,” she mutters, mostly to be contrary. Narae rolls her eyes, and she sighs. “I told him he was trying to make me his perfect wife,” she mumbles guiltily, “and I said he could only see Jinhwan because I allowed it...and then he told me I couldn't deal with his feelings and that I was too screwed up to make it work.”

“Which is all true,” Narae says bluntly, and when Hyerin frowns at her because she's supposed to be on her side, she rolls her eyes so hard she's surprised they don't stay that way. “Come on, Rin,” she says gently, “you know he's right. And partially, you're right. He does kind of expect you to do all that stuff, but underneath he knows you're more than that.” She wraps an arm around her, and Hyerin leans in, so tired of pretending it's all okay. “He needed to hear it, I think,” Narae tells her honestly, “but you could probably have put it in a nicer way.”

“Probably,” Hyerin agrees, eyes shut. She can hear the girls in the corner whispering again, and she doesn't doubt that they're concocting yet another terrible story about what a she is.

“So are you going to fix it?” Narae asks expectantly. “I mean, does he even know you're keeping Jinhwan?”

Hyerin spreads her arms in a gesture of confusion. “Maybe. I don't know. Someone might have told him.”

She can feel Narae's unimpressed gaze boring into her, but she doesn't open her eyes, instead choosing to focus on the image of her son in front of her eyelids. She imagines him as she saw him just a few hours ago, with his grumpy, 'I'm not going to sleep, and you can't stop me, mummy' expression.

“You don't think that person should have been you?” She tells her. “He does have a right to know.” She snorts. “You are married, for crying out loud.”

“Yeah,” Hyerin says, “well, that's a joke in itself.”

Narae stays quiet for a moment, and then, as if it is an effort to say the words, she speaks. “It's not, actually,” she says quietly. “You two work. You could be amazing. You're both just too scared to make a real go of it.”

Hyerin cracks one eye open to stare at her. “You're jealous,” she says in amazement, not quite able to comprehend the very idea of her impossibly perfect best friend being jealous of her, plain, plebian Hyerin.

She shifts in her seat, looking down at the countertop. “Not exactly,” she hedges, flashing a look at her before she turns back to the table. “It's just...he loves you,” she sighs, raking a hand through her hair. Hyerin watches jealously as it just falls perfectly back into place. “And you love him. It's easy for you.”

“It really isn't,” Hyerin points out, “or do I have to run through the disaster that is my love life again?”

Narae's answering look is dry. “It's not a disaster, honey,” she says softly, “it's just hit a bit of a roadblock.” She nudges her. “All you have to do is says sorry,” she reminds her, “easiest thing in the world. Two words: I'm sorry.”

She crosses her arms. “Uh-huh. And if that doesn't work?”

Narae shrugs, grinning. “I don't know.” She nods towards her chest, strapped into a specially padded bra to keep the milk from leaking through. “Get those s out. That'll stop him in his tracks.” She cackles, sounding unnervingly like Hollywood's idea of a witch. “He'll say yes to anything if you get those massive things out.”

Hyerin gives her a droll look. “Oh, yeah, he'll be all for it.” She rolls her eyes, keeping her arms crossed self-consciously. “I still leak, you realise?” She whispers distastefully. She is still not used to how her body has changed, and her s are one of the most conspicuous aspects of this change.

“Oh, Rin,” Narae squeezes her shoulders fondly, “you're such an idiot sometimes.”

When she turns an outraged glare on her, she just laughs. “Go talk to him,” she orders, “and I promise he won't turn you away.”

Hyerin looks away for a moment, teeth sinking into her lower lip. “You promise?” She repeats in a tiny whisper.

Narae nods firmly, turning her around to face her. She looks at her solemnly. “I promise.”

***

It takes a couple of days – a couple of days trapped with a fussy, cranky baby who she is now convinced is in on Narae's plan to get her and Siwon back together – but she eventually dredges up the courage to confront Siwon. She hovers outside Siwon's door hesitantly, feeling awkward and out of place. A massive part of her is desperate to leave, to hide away in the hospital with her baby and her best friend, and pretend that she doesn't need to do this.

But she does, and despite not having been here in months, Siwon's apartment is familiar. When she presses the buzzer, the ringing bell takes her back to the days before it all went to hell – the easy, teasing friendship, the simple knowledge that they were just friends and nothing more.

Except, when she looks back, it wasn't quite as simple as she was so convinced it was. Their friendship has always been strong – they've always looked after one another – but it was never simple. There was always a tension, a frisson of unresolved feelings underlying everything they said or did. They just pretended it wasn't there.

Really, their ill-fated one night stand and their desperately ual attempts at a relationship were inevitable. It was the baby she could never have expected.

“Hello?” The sharp, irritated greeting interrupts her distracted thoughts and – there he is.

Her first impression is god, he looks good, an embarrassingly intense yearning reminding her that though she might fight it, she is very much in love with him. And then she looks a little further. He does look good – he always looks good – but there are signs, little hints that things are not going well.

He looks tired. Not that he has any right to be, considering he's not the one rushing around after a premature baby, but he does. His chin is prickly, on the verge of looking untidy, and his flat – from the tiny glimpse she gets through the doorway – is a mess. She wrinkles her nose. Sungah would never let her home get into such a state.

“Yes?” He prompts irritably, leaning against the entrance with his arms folded. His expression is almost forcedly annoyed, and she knows that it is partially an act. He's angry, too – but he's missed her, and she knows that because she has missed him too. “What do you want, Hyerin?”

An interesting question, and one she hopes he can provide the solution to. “Can I come in?” She asks instead, and pushes past him when he doesn't answer. She lets her hand linger on his arm longer than she should, and he looks down at it doubtfully.

“I suppose,” he answers gruffly, though there is really no point as she is in the house already. “Are you here for an actual reason, or have you just come to yell at me again?” He inquires petulantly, and she bites her lip to bite back a touchy retort.

She displaces a stack of Men's Health magazines, gently placing them on the coffee table and squaring the edges fastidiously to prolong her answer. “I came to tell you something,” she starts, settling down in her newly empty seat, “and I wanted to make sure you heard it from me,” she says simply. “Someone else might have told you, but here it is: I'm keeping the baby. Once he's got the okay from the doctors, I'm taking him home. I'm not getting him adopted.” The last few words come out in a rush.

“You were right, and I'm sorry,” she tells him, her arms wrapped around her. “I was scared. I've always been scared.” She doesn't need to spell out why – he knows. He knows that the only love she's really known has been dependent on her beauty, her reputation – not herself. He knows that her parents ed her up and she's been clawing for some kind of independence for so long that she's always on the defensive.

He knows.

But he doesn't move towards her, doesn't give in, his shoulders still tight, and though it pisses her off, she pushes the irritation away. Starting another fight won't solve anything.

“And?” He says offhandedly, as if he doesn't really care either way.

She stands up, steps forward, her hand reaching out towards him in a hesitant, cautious movement. When she rests it on his shoulder, he makes no move to acknowledge her. She sighs. “And I'm not scared now.”

It's a blatant lie. She's never been more scared in her life, except for maybe when she took that damned pregnancy test. But despite that, she isn't scared of saying those three little words now. They can't break her. What can he do? Deny her? Reject her? She has other things to care for now. If he doesn't want her, then she can walk away and focus on her son, and it will hurt, but she won't be alone. She won't just be someone's useless castoff.

“I love you,” she tells him, her arms sliding around his chest. She rests her face against his back for a second, just holding him, and though he is stiff and unyielding, she can feel him softening just the tiniest bit. “Three words, eight letters,” she murmurs, and he rolls his shoulders. She presses a kiss between his shoulderblades, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I. Love. You.”

He does not react for one, agonising second, and her heart begins to break as she considers the depressing reality that he is done with her now. She was an amusing diversion for a while, but when she refused to commit, well, that was enough.

She begins to pull away, but he grabs her by the waist and suddenly, they are face-to-face, body-to-body, and her heart leaps at the contact. “Do you mean it?” He asks desperately, searching her face for sincerity. She stares back, and for once, her heart is in her eyes and she refuses to hide it.

“You know I do,” she says recklessly, uncaring of how much of herself she is giving away so heedlessly. “God, Siwon, you know I've never wanted anyone as much as I do you.”

He's been there for every part of her life, seen every boyfriend, every flirtation, every calculated teenage crush – he has to know she's never been like this over anyone but him.

“Good,” he says, and his voice is suspiciously husky, “because I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you, even though you drive me crazy.”

She laughs breathlessly, shaking with relief. “You're hardly a walk in the park either,” she retorts, in that old, sparking, familiar way of theirs, and though her heart is beating hard enough to hurt, she is...happy. This is what she wants, this is the relationship she wants back in her life, because these three weeks have been lonely and she has learnt when Siwon is gone there is a void only he can fill.

“ you,” he growls, but he's smiling, and she knows she's smiling back, and it just feels right, like something has – finally – slotted into place.

“You wish,” she sticks her tongue out, childish and immature because she's learnt that you can still be an idiot, even if you are a parent. It's a little more than a joke – she's fairly sure she's still not allowed to undergo any strenuous exercise, and she's fairly sure energetic makeup falls under that category.

He laughs, and when she looks at him again, his eyes are warm, but his jubilation is cautious. “So,” he starts hesitantly, “what does this – what does this mean for...us?”

It's a strange word, one that almost doesn't seem to fit them. She knows – without even having to ask – that the us he is referring to includes both her and her baby, and she loves him even more for that.

She considers the question for a moment, because it is a serious one that requires more than a flippant brushing off. With one hand, she cradles his face, tilting it up to face hers. It would be easy to kiss him, to pretend that that is his answer, but he deserves more than that – they deserve more than that.

“We take it day by day,” she tells him instead, his jawline tenderly. “I can't just be your wife like that,” she says honestly, “and I know you can't just be my husband either. We've never even gone on a real date,” she points out awkwardly. “We just threw ourselves into this without thinking – at least not with our heads,” she adds wryly, “and I, I have a baby. I can't play around. I have to focus on him.”

“I know that,” he says reproachfully, “I would never take you away from him.”

She chuckles sadly. “I know,” she rests her forehead against his, hyper-aware of his hands on her waist and the closeness of her body. “But I have to know that whatever happens between us, you won't just abandon him,” her voice cracks, the emotion seeping through, “I need him to be the priority, Siwon.”

He doesn't say anything, perhaps letting the seriousness of what he is about to take on sink in. He knows that she means it, knows that she will only let him in if he promises to be there for her and her child. She's not even asking him to be a parent – she's just asking him to understand that she refuses to have her son abandoned the way she was.

“Hyerin,” he says at last, his arms sliding around her waist, fingers interlocking behind her back, “you know I would never – you know I couldn't...” he tries, frantically searching for the words. “You know I've always wanted him,” he says helplessly, “I have from the beginning. That's not going to change. I know he comes first. He has to. I'm not going to – I'm not going to just ignore him if we did, you know, break up. He's more important.”

She lets out a slow, shuddering breath. “Thank you,” she murmurs against his lips, a mere half-inch separating them.

“So,” he begins playfully, “does this mean you actually want to be married to me for good?”

She groans, pulling back from him – but not enough to actually leave his embrace. “We're not a married couple,” she warns him, but softens it with, “not yet, any way.”

“Not yet,” he agrees, as she places her hands against his chest, “so does that mean I get to propose again?” He grins, eyes dancing, “I think my first one was a little lacking, don't you?”

She shakes her head, fringe falling in front of her eyes, and looks at her hands. She's wearing the wedding band, because it's easier and results in less questions about the fact that Siwon hasn't been there. Slowly, deliberately, she tugs it off, and pulling one of his hands away from her back, she folds his fingers over it. “When we're ready, you can give it back to me,” she looks at him, searching his face for any disappointment as she tries to make it clear that this isn't a rejection. “I want to try and take it slow, or at least try and go on dates,” she says awkwardly.

“Okay,” he holds her gaze, still holding the ring. He looks down at the hand, and then back at her again. He smiles, a little tentatively. “So does this mean I can visit the baby again?” He asks, looking bashful. “I missed him. I've missed you both.”

She laughs, and nodding, she takes his hand. “Yes,” she nods confidently, “in fact, it's required.”

***

Siwon doesn't mess around. Once he has her permission to fall back into her life as if he never left it, he demands to be taken to see the baby as soon as possible, and as they walk into the NICU the nurses greet him cheerfully. She finds her son lying in his incubator, as always. He's asleep, his tiny, shell-like eyelids closed, and arms held above his head. He looks adorable, but then she's biased – he is the most beautiful baby in her eyes. Slowly, gently, she picks him up and cradles him, rocking him to keep him quiet.

She takes a deep breath, and carefully – oh, so carefully – transfers him into Siwon's arms. Siwon takes him reverently, and they pause for a moment, to admire how tiny he looks in his arms. “Meet Jinhwan,” she says quietly, so as not to disturb the baby. She's kept the name she chose from Siwon all day, just waiting for this moment – and she knows he's desperate to know why.

“Jinhwan?” Siwon sounds it out, looking down at the baby in his arms as if to connect it to him. “Jinhwan. It's a good name.” He smiles at her. “It suits him.”

She smiles back. “I thought so.” She her son's wispy hair, and swallows. The next thing she has to say isn't much of a shock. To most people, it probably wouldn't even seem like that big a deal.

But it is. It's a huge deal.

“Jinhwan, baby,” she says softly, though she knows he's asleep, “meet daddy.”

Siwon's eyes fly open, and he looks at her, mouth hanging open slightly. She gives a tiny nod, not sure what to say. Her heart is thudding, and though she knows this is what she wants, she's scared, almost. Perhaps this is going too far – perhaps this is making this too real. Maybe Siwon doesn't even want this anymore.

But in the end, she just decides to trust.

“Really?” Siwon asks, and his voice is hoarse.

She looks down at the tiny baby in his arms, at the not-quite family they create, all together. “Yes,” she says simply, “really.”

She could say something more – she could say that really, he's been Jinhwan's father from the very first moment he was born. She could say that she can't think of anyone who'd make a better father for her son, she could tell him how much it means to her that he loves her son, despite everything that happened.

But those things – while important – are not what matter right now. “Of course you're his dad.”

He's been hearing that from other people, from doctors and nurses and even Heechul – but it means more from her. It's an unequivocal truth when it comes from her.

“Thank you,” he clears his throat, and she knows that he is trying to tamp down the emotion building up in his throat. She looks up at him, and smiles.

“You don't need to thank me,” she reaches a hand up, and cradles his face, “you got yourself stuck in this mess all by yourself.” Her smile turns wry, but he grins back.

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” he promises, and as she stands up on tip-toes to kiss him, their son slumbers on peacefully in his father's arms.

Two Months Later

Jinhwan is with Sungah, who – within a few short days – has proven herself to be as invaluable a nursemaid as she is a housekeeper, and, though she never stops worrying about her son, she can focus on the task at hand.

She sets the baby monitor on the table next to her, and turns to Hyunjae, conscious of his razor-sharp gaze looking her up and down. She still hasn't lost all of the baby weight, it's true, but he will see nothing he can make fun of. Her hair is perfect, her makeup flawless, and her clothes carefully chosen to disguise the extra weight.

In short, she looks like someone who is in control of her life. “Thank you for coming,” she says stiffly, though she is aware they both know she doesn't really mean it. He nods. “I'd like to discuss my son,” she states it baldly, in no mood to prevaricate.

Hyunjae does not object to her not-so-subtle denial of his relationship with the baby. He stares at her, gaze openly dismissive. Though half her mind is still on her son in his nursery, and the heavy ache in her s, she still finds the wherewithal to stare coolly back at him. “Yes?” He says eventually.

“I need you to hand over all parental rights to me,” she tells him. It is something she has been preparing for since she decided to keep him – she cannot have Hyunjae lording his claim to her child over her, she just can't. She needs to know Jinhwan is hers, and hers alone, so that he will never have to suffer a father who doesn't care.

She doesn't want that for her little boy. Eventually, yes, she will have to tell him how he came to be – she won't keep it a secret, because if she does, he is bound to find out in some unfavourable way. But he doesn't need to think of Hyunjae as his father, and if he signs away all his parental rights, then he will have no chance to screw with her.

It's unlikely, true, but the people of her social set are used to fighting over things they don't really want in court. Hyunjae does not want her child – but he would relish the chance to fight for him in court, to make her look like a terrible mother. He's already cast her as a and a gold-digger; she doesn't trust him not to go any further.

She hands over the file she has been holding over to him. “I've had the papers drawn up. You can have your lawyers look it over, but I assure you, you won't find anything unfavourable to you in there.” She was careful of that – if Hyunjae thinks there is anything disadvantageous to him in there, he won't sign it. “It's simple enough.”

Hyunjae takes it delicately, and raises an eyebrow. “You can't erase me completely from his past, you know,” he says silkily.

She shrugs. “I'm not trying to. I'm just trying to do what's best for both of us.” He can interpret that how he likes – she knows the both she refers to consists of herself and her son.

“You're going to deny your son a father?” He says, pretending shock. She hates him for his delight in this, hates that he can just play with fatherhood because he doesn't really care.

“He's already got one,” she says pleasantly, “and it's not you.”

As if on cue, a loud wail sounds from the monitor, and she rises with it. Hyunjae looks as though he is about to say something – probably insulting – but she speaks before he can. “I have to go check on my son,” she announces, “and as we're done here, you can see yourself out.”

She turns without even looking at him, and that, she thinks, is the best revenge she can get: remind Hyunjae that he is absolutely nothing to her, and that the baby he foisted on her will always matter more than he ever can.

fin