12-13 weeks

Tuesday morning finds her slumped down in a cinema seat, a bucket of popcorn resting on the armrest between her and Siwon. He objected when she tried to buy a large Coke, thick brows furrowing because she’s not in any condition to be ingesting that much caffeine. His concern is heartwarming – but she really wanted that Coke. However, he allowed the popcorn, and they’ve spent most of the previews for the movie throwing kernels at each other.

He takes a handful, and, instead of launching it at her head, starts to eat thoughtfully. She’s not sure how they’ve managed to go back to being so normal when she’s pregnant with what might be his baby, but she’s not questioning it. She’s just happy to be with him again.

“When are you going to tell Hyunjae?” The question is hesitant, almost reluctant; as if he knows he should ask but doesn’t want to.

She groans, sliding into an upright position. “How about…never?” Even in the gloom of the theatre, she can still see his disapproving look.

“Rin-ah, you have to. If it’s not mine, it’s his, and you can’t just tell me and not him.” The words are forced, but true. Siwon has always been honest, if nothing else.

“He won’t care.” There’s a tired sigh hidden in her words, but she knows he’s right. She does have to tell Hyunjae, and she probably needs to get a paternity test – but knowing both of those things has not induced her to actually make any moves towards achieving these goals.

Siwon’s mouth opens, then closes, and she knows he was about to say who wouldn’t care, but realised that not everyone is like him just in time. “Well, you might be surprised.” He says gently, although it sounds like his throat is constricting. She wonders why.

“I don’t want to tell him.” She refuses to look anywhere but the screen, pretending that an advert for some skin cream she doesn’t use is far more interesting than the conversation. But when Siwon’s hand folds over hers, she makes no move to pull it away. “I will. But I’m not ready to face it yet.”

“When will you be?” Siwon snorts, a little irritated. “When you’re en-route to give birth?” It’s almost scary how in tune he and Narae can be sometimes.

She tugs her hand away, but he refuses to let her go. “Hyerin-ah.” He says warningly. “You know I’m telling the truth.” His other hand cradles the side of her face, turning it towards him. “I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just…you have to deal with this, sweetheart. You can’t pretend it’s not happening.” He shakes his head, fringe falling into his eyes. She pushes it back for him. “I can’t let you do that. Especially not when it could be my child.”

It feels weird when he says that; she’s too scared to examine the feeling and see if it’s good or bad weird.

She breathes out a slow sigh. “Babe, I know.” She presses her lips together. “You’re right, I know you are. Just…give me time, alright? I have the scan this week, and that’s…big.” Her words trail off when she sees the look in his eyes.

“How far along are you, anyway?” He asks, and she can see him doing the mental maths, counting back the weeks and months to when they had .

“Somewhere in the region of two to three months.” She says softly. “I don’t know exactly. The scan should help clear things up.” He nods at this, the amount of time she has named roughly fitting the trajectory of their…relationship, for want of a better word.

“When is it?” He removes his hand from her face, but keeps his grip on hers. “I could come, if you want.” Her heart lifts slightly at the idea.

“Friday.” She swallows, hoping that the slightly sick sense of dread will abate. His face falls.

“,” he whispers, conscious of the other patrons. “I can’t go, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic, and for half a heartbeat, she wonders how she managed to score such an amazing best friend, before he’s speaking once more. “I have a shoot in London, they’re flying me out there on Friday.”

She looks down to hide the disappointment on her face. “It’s fine, honey.” She forces her lips into a smile. “Narae said she’d come with me, so it’s all…good.” It’s not good, not at all, but she doesn’t like seeing the guilt in his eyes.

He seems to be struggling with his words, and she’s unsure of what he wants to say. A part of her knows he hates the fact he can’t be there for her, and that if it is his baby, he’ll want to be there for every moment. But if it’s not…why make such a commitment? So instead, he asks the question she’s been mulling over for the past few weeks. “Are you keeping it – the baby, I mean?”

“I – I don’t know.” She says honestly, still having no idea even after almost a month of knowing she’s pregnant. “I can’t get rid of this baby.” Especially not if it’s his. “But, I mean, me – a mum?” Her laughter is so fake it makes her wince. “We both know that’s a ridiculous idea.”

He looks relieved to hear that she’s not going to have an abortion. He’s always been more child-friendly than she is, and although he’s not quite as religious as his parents, their teachings still have a hold on him. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure you’ll surprise yourself.” She’d really like to know where he gets his confidence from, because even Narae hasn’t tried to convince her she’ll be the best mother ever. “I know you’ll do your best. And you know, I’ll – I’ll do my best too. Seriously. I’m here, and – “

She raises a hand to stop him, squeezing his hand in hers. “Don’t. I don’t want to drag you down with me. If it’s yours, your life will be just as big of a mess as mine’s going to be. J-just, don’t say that.” But deep down, she knows that she is desperately hoping it’s not Hyunjae’s. Despite the fact she can’t bear to Siwon into this mess, she knows he’d take care of her. Knows he’d step up to the mark, be a far better father than Hyunjae could ever be.

And in some weird, strange way – a way she doesn’t want to think about – she’d feel better about the baby if it was his.

He shakes his head. “Even if it’s not mine, I’m here for you. I’ll be there for you and the kid.”

That little sentence undoes her; she has no idea how to respond because she doesn’t understand just why he’d say something like this. “Siwon – you can’t, you can’t – “

“Shh,” he gives her an enigmatic look. “The movie’s about to start. I came here to spend time with my best friend; we can talk about this later.” There’s a promise in his eyes that she can’t decipher.

Why say something like that and then stop her from replying? The confusion is dizzying, but she gives up; she’s too muddled to try and figure this out. So she lets him remove his hand from hers, sling an arm around her and cuddle close because she needs his solid presence, and she’d rather not think about the consequences of his words; the connotations of his sudden, unwavering support.

There’s a movie to watch, anyway.

***

The movie starts and their hands brush against each other in the popcorn bucket. There’s no electric spark – nothing so silly and metaphysical – but there’s a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that she is too scared to think about.

But the movie absorbs her, and she is free to push her unsettling thoughts and feelings to the back of her mind. And even though it’s sci-fi – completely unrelated to her own life – she finds she can’t quite forget her own reality. Because there’s a moment with a parent crying over a sick child, and it’s horribly emotional.

Her hand slides down to rest on her belly unconsciously; she doesn’t realise what she’s done until the moment is over and so she doesn’t notice the way Siwon’s gaze lingers on her belly, her bigger s. She doesn’t see the curious look in his eyes as her hand pulls her loose t-shirt taut. There’s not much to see – she’s not really showing, not yet, anyway – but her stomach’s not quite flat anymore.

Could she die to save her child? She’d like to think she could, but there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach – one that reminds her of fact that she’s less than happy about this child.

The thought has her shifting uncomfortably, her hand slipping down to rest in her lap awkwardly. Her cheeks are heating up with embarrassment – she’s not sure why, but she feels caught in the act, and yet…what’s wrong with touching her stomach? It’s her body - her baby.

Her cheeks flush harder when Siwon’s arm tightens around her shoulder, the realisation that he understands the awkward, confused feelings floating around in her head making her feel vulnerable. And when he turns his head towards her, their faces are so close that they could almost kiss, if she were to lean up just that bit further.

There’s a second, a heartbeat in which she contemplates the idea, because no one will know and no one will care; because to everyone else they’re just an anonymous couple in some downtown cinema. But then she remembers that it might not be his baby and that they’re best friends and their relationship is worth more than a half-hearted snog just because she feels needy.

So she turns away, ashamed, and again, she misses the strange, longing look on Siwon’s face. After all, Narae’s always said she’s too good at missing what’s right in front of her.

***

By the time the credits are rolling, she’s laughing, nudging Siwon with her shoulder because she was so right about the plot, oh yes (because she’s always right, and no one can take that away from her). He rolls his eyes, tells her she had the upper hand, what with the fact she’s watched all of the original series’.

But then the seriousness of their earlier conversation resurfaces, and as they’re walking out of the cinema, she starts to feel queasy. This is nothing new – the baby just seems to make her feel sick all the goddamn time, but things have been getting better lately and she knows she’s sick with nerves.

What is she supposed to say? It’s not like she can just dismiss him, say she had a great time and she’ll see him soon – they’re connected, interlinked by one stupid mistake in the back of a limo (she never claimed to be classy, okay).

“I’ll see you soon, then?” Why is she breathless, for crying out loud? Her heart is beating just a little too fast, and she feels like a fourteen year old again – which , because she was an insecure, emotional mess at that age. It's funny how things never change.

“Of course.” His smile is fleeting, tremulous, this time. What’s changed, she wonders – is it something she said? The small voice in the back of her mind tells her it’s probably more to do with the fact that he’s still adjusting to this whole…thing, not that she can blame him for that. It’s not like she’s adjusted to it either, is it?

It’s a spur of the moment thing, really. She stands on her tiptoes, kisses his cheek and then steps back. It’s not that unusual – plenty of friends kiss each other’s cheeks goodbye – but they both know it’s not entirely platonic, and the look he gives her afterwards is thoughtful. He nods, widens the distance between them, ready to walk away. But still he lingers.

“Take care of yourself.” He says. And the baby is unspoken, but she hears it and flushes because she’s such a bad mother and the kid isn’t even here yet.

When she breaks away first, she blames her overactive bladder, but she knows she’s really avoiding prolonged contact with Siwon because he just seems to make her feel…odd. Yeah, that’s what she’s going to call it. Odd. Weirdly fluttery and guilty.

Besides, she really does need the loo. Why did nobody ever tell her what hard work being knocked up is?

***

Friday rolls around all too quickly, and finds her standing in the reception of the maternity ward, trembling next to Narae. She’s checked in, ostensibly all ready to go – and yet she’s stalling, standing here so she doesn’t have to go up there.

Narae is the first one to break the silence. "I'll wait here for you, shall I?" She says. "I mean, this kind of thing is personal. First time...seeing it and all." She's actually perfectly willing to come into the room with her, but she figured she should sit this one out. It's a big step for Hyerin after all, and she did drag her here (by force – Hyerin was quite happy to stay at home watching old re-runs of Friends).

A hand clamps down on her wrist before she can sit down. "I'm sorry." Hyerin babbles. "I know I've been utter hell and I'm making you do so much for me – you've been such a rock for me – but," she swallows, "please don't make me see...it alone for the first time." She pleads. "I'm scared," she whispers.

Narae places her hands on either side of Hyerin's face. "Of course I'll come with you!" She sighs. "Don't cry, hon. I'm here, and I'll be here forever, alright? Best friends forever!" She says in her stupidest, most convincing airhead voice.

Hyerin manages a watery smile. "Thanks." She mutters gratefully. "I mean it, Rae – you've been amazing."

The other woman gives a modest shrug. "I'm just that fabulous, what can I say?" She slides an arm through Hyerin's. "Now, let's go see my future niece or nephew!" She was never going to accept the title of a mere godmother, after all.

"Are you actually...excited?" Hyerin asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Oh my god, you are!" She really does not understand. The only thing she's feeling is fear. Intense fear.

"Well, yeah." Narae responds, unabashed. They make their way up the stairs to the waiting room. "I've always wanted a reason to buy a pair of those tiny Converse." Of course that would be her reason. "By the way, I already ordered you the cutest babygro online." She announces. "It has a skull and crossbones on it, I thought you'd approve." Funny how well Narae knows her. Funny how much more real this baby is to her best friend than it is to her.

When they finally make it to the waiting room, it's hot, stuffy and packed to the brim with pregnant women and their partners, not to mention a generous smattering of rowdy kids. It is the last place Hyerin wants to be in, and suddenly she has the all too familiar urge to be sick. This is so not where she belongs.

"Breathe, Hyerin." Narae reminds her, amused. She directs her to the single free seat - she is the pregnant one, after all - and shakes her head in resignation when she immediately fishes around in her bag for her headphones. Clearly, Hyerin is not up to being social, although, she doesn't blame her – the couple next to her are being grotesquely cute.

Soon enough, Hyerin is plugged into her iPod and doing a grand job of ignoring absolutely everyone in the room, including her supposed best friend. Rolling her eyes at her childishness, she begins absentmindedly tapping her foot to the beat of Hyerin's music. She stops when she realises if she can hear it the whole room can. Not good.

Plucking away one of the purple things covering her ears, she whispers. "Babe, as much as you know I adore Black Tide, I doubt the rest of the room does. Turn it down."

From the sulky look on Hyerin's face, you'd think she'd told her to throw the iPod away. "Fine." She growls, snatching the headphones off and shoving her iPod in her bag. Narae would like to blame hormones, but she’s pretty sure it’s just a normal Hyerin-tantrum manifesting itself. She sighs.

“Hyerin, come on.” She’s whispering because there are far too many people willing to listen in on their conversation (she can see it in their eyes – hospital waiting rooms are notoriously boring). “I was just telling you that your music was too loud, you can’t get mad at me for that one.”

Hyerin is about to open and tell her that yes, she can get mad at her for exactly that when she realises how ridiculous it sounds. closes as she thinks of a more appropriate response – and preferably one that doesn’t make her sound like a hysterical toddler. “I told you I was nervous.” She whispers back. “I just…wanted to distance myself.” She wishes Narae didn’t have such a bloody pitying look on her face. It’s not like she’s an invalid, for Christ’s sake - it’s the 21^st century – getting pregnant out of wedlock doesn’t count as a mental illness anymore.

When Narae puts an arm on her shoulder, she has to fight the urge to shake it off and wearily, she wonders if the fabled pregnancy hormones are beginning to surface. Instead of pursuing that ultimately depressing thought, she lies her head on Narae’s shoulder and shuts her eyes.

Her eyes are still closed when they announce her name; she blinks them open, disorientated by the realisation that , she’s still here and her little game of make-believe didn’t work. It never does.

Well, here goes. Into the mouth of Hell she marches. 

***

“Good morning!” The doctor is young, female, and unfortunately, can best be described as perky. Hyerin is filled with a sudden desire to roll her eyes heavenward and ask just what did she do to deserve someone so happy, apart from have out of wedlock a few (hundred) times. “I’m Dr Hwang, and I’m guessing you’re here for your first ultrasound!” She grins happily, and Hyerin winces. This is so not what she needs. Why is everyone so much happier about this kid than she is?

She can see Narae trying to hold back the snickers from the corner of her eye. “Um, yeah.” Her answer is pathetic – even she can see that – but she’s really not sure what to say. It’s not like she’s really excited about this.

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Dr Hwang turns her chair around in order to face Hyerin. “Is this your sister?” She asks kindly, smiling at Narae. Narae grins back.

“Best friend.” Hyerin corrects quietly.

“Daddy-to-be couldn’t come, eh?” This doctor is really grating on her nerves, she decides. She only has so much patience, and none of it is intended for dealing with nosy doctors, thank you very much.  "Couldn't get off work?" She's trying for sympathy, Hyerin can see, but she's merely using professional interest to mask her curiosity.

Seeing as this is almost half true – one of the possible fathers is currently working abroad, after all – she could simply nod and have the doctor believe what she will. But she’s too edgy to lie and too tired of pretending everything’s going to sort itself out. So she shrugs, keeps quiet and doesn’t say anything and hopes the doctor gets the message. She doesn’t want to talk about it, and for crying out loud, you’d think she’d have that right.

There’s a beat of silence, before Dr Hwang decides to accept the fact that Hyerin isn’t going to say anything further. “Alright then! Let’s get started.” The smile dims a little, but she is clearly resolved to be happy whatever the situation. “If you could just lay down on the bed here…” The good doctor points to the adjustable, plastic covered bed next to a computer screen.

Her heart leaps into , because this is it, and once she sees what’s inside of her she’ll no longer be able to deny that it’s really happening. She hands her bag over to Narae, mutters that she’d really like for her to sit next to her. She needs someone, anyone – someone who cares, because she feels so alone at the moment that it’s all she can do to stay in the room. She doesn’t want to be a mother – she wants someone to mother her.

The tissue paper covering the bed crackles when she shuffles onto it; a large portion tears when she lies herself down, and she winces, because is it too much to expect some kind of elegance from her body for once? Once she’s settled, she takes another deep breath and tries to tell herself it will all be okay.

But it’s a lie, and she knows it – how can it be okay when her heart is pounding so hard it’s all she can hear, and the thought of seeing her baby fills her with dread? What kind of mother is she? She’s supposed to be excited, happy – this is the first glimpse she’ll ever have of her child, it’s a special moment that you’re meant to cherish and she, she’s just –

Terrified. That’s all she is, and she’s so ashamed of that fact. There are plenty of women who would kill for an opportunity such as this – so many childless women who’d give anything to be where she is right now, and all she can do is lie there like a doll and hope the doctor will tell her it’s all a joke and there’s no baby inside of her.

Instead, the doctor starts checking over the machinery, readying herself. She nods when she sees that Hyerin is lying down. “Could you pull your shirt up, please?” The girlish smile of earlier returns. “Just up under your s, yes, that’s perfect.”

The position is a little awkward to tug her shirt up, but she pulls the loose tee up over her barely-there bump and flushes a bit when she realises that her stomach isn’t flat anymore. She can almost see her mother’s pursed lips, hear her disparaging comments about weight gain being nothing more than a lack of control.

“The gel will be a little cold, but nothing too bad.” She nods because from the little she knows about pregnancy, she’s aware that they have to use some kind of lubricant to get a better picture. It is cold, but nothing to be particularly upset about – a little uncomfortable, sure, but she’s already uncomfortable. She doesn’t like people touching her stomach, but when you’re knocked up, you can hardly avoid that, now can you?

Her stomach is taut with nerves; as the doctor fusses around with paperwork and a nurse fiddles around with something in the background, she can feel her heart thudding in as the moment comes. She’s never been this nervous about anything before – but when could she have? She’s had everything handed to her on a platter; this child is a challenge she is in no way prepared to deal with.

“Alright!” The doctor appears to have finally gotten herself ready; Hyerin can’t pretend to be happy about this. “Are we ready? I bet you’re really excited, most new mums can’t wait for the first scan. It’s a shame daddy can’t be here, but I’m sure you’ll have the prints all ready and waiting for whenever he returns.” She tunes out the doctor’s inane chatter because it doesn’t feel like it has anything to do with her life; it feels like this is all some weirdly personal TV show and she’s just watching it from the foreground.

But almost as soon as the doctor applies the probe to her bare skin, a fuzzy little image appears on the screen across from her and Toto is most definitely not in Kansas anymore. The doctor smiles in satisfaction. “There’s your baby!”

And there her baby is, in all its fuzzy, pixelated glory. She can’t breathe for a moment, because it’s actually moving and it’s not just a bundle of cells, as she’s been trying to convince herself for so long. It’s actually…baby-shaped, and alive and it’s inside of her.

She hasn’t said anything; she knows that both the doctor and Narae are waiting for a reaction, but all she can give them is an intake of shocked breath and clenched fingers. It’s good enough for the doctor, however, who takes the gasp as an emotional response, rather than what it truly is: an oh what have I done moment.

“It’s too early to find out the , but everything seems in order. Judging from what we're seeing here," – the doctor narrows her eyes at the screen – "I'd say you're three months pregnant.”

Three goddamn months? Oh god, she thinks, not quite able to process it. She’s had this thing inside of her for three months?

Yet she has no time to process it, because the doctor is moving the probe around her belly and pointing out tiny limbs and hands and feet. When the doctor points to the bulbous, over large head, she squints at the screen in confusion. Wait a moment. "Is it...throwing its head back?" She tilts her own head for a better view.

The doctor chuckles, moving the wand down. She's pressing down hard, which is actually really uncomfortable, not least because she has a baby pressing on a full bladder. , she really needs the toilet. Ow. Yet another reason pregnancy totally – the need to be in the bathroom at all times.

"Yes, it is." As she slides the doppler once more, Hyerin begins to clench her thighs together. God, this makes her so uncomfortable.

As usual, she turns to humour as a distraction from her desperate need to pee. "Trust my child to be throwing a tantrum before it's even born." The doctor laughs again, and Hyerin decides she is far too easily amused, because that wasn’t even a good joke.

“Well, that’s all, I think.” Dr Hwang’s fingers flutter across the keyboard and suddenly, a series of pictures spew out of the printer. Hyerin takes them immediately – it’s only polite, after all, and she is trying (and failing, the evil little voice in the back of her mind reminds her) to pretend to be an eager young mother – but makes no move to look at them. There’s a mention of her due date, but she barely hears it over the relief of finally being able to get out of this goddamn room.

The doctor leaves her with a final, cheery ‘Congratulations!’ and a reminder that her next appointment is in two weeks. Narae nods for her, because it’s clear Hyerin’s had enough and is going to block everything out; she knows her best friend, and she knows her propensity to stick her head in the sand and pretend it’ll all go away. It’s a nasty trend among socialites, who are used to throwing money at things they’d rather not deal with.

***

When they traipse back into the waiting room, Narae’s worried fingers digging into Hyerin’s arm in an attempt to keep Hyerin in the real world, she comes to a standstill.

“Honey?” Narae asks, confused at the sudden stop. “Are you okay?” What on Earth is going on?

 “Excuse me,” Hyerin manages, before she lurches forward, shoves her stuff at Narae and stumbles out of the oddly claustrophobic room to run to the toilet. She can feel her gorge rising, the need to be sick overriding any and all other thoughts.

It’s an all too familiar sensation, and once she finally makes it into the ladies rest room, she barrels into the nearest empty cubicle because, , she can’t keep it back. The door slams shut; she crouches over the toilet and heaves. There’s nothing in her stomach except water; all she can taste is that peculiarly acidic taste in the back of .

She crashes down on the toilet floor in a cramped tangle of arms and legs, with no regard for her expensive shorts; her legs are shaking, hell, all of her is shaking and she’s never felt so scared and out of sync in her life before. That was a baby. Her baby. On some ing screen, with a doctor pointing out heads and bodies and arms and legs and all she could think was no, oh please god, no. She doesn’t know what she was expecting – that it was all one big cosmic joke and as soon as she went for the ultrasound, it would be over?

She should have known better. She shouldn’t have let herself live in denial, hell, she should just never had and stayed single until the right guy came along because she can’t deal with this. She can’t be a mother, it doesn’t work like that – she doesn’t know how to be a mother, where to begin with all of this .

It’s there and it’s taking over her body, and how the hell does she face this situation with a smile and barefaced lie about being happy? She’s used to fake happiness; to putting on a mask and making everyone think you’re having the best time ever, but this is different. It’s different because it’s real and it concerns someone else – someone who, for better or worse, depends on her for everything.

She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, wishes she could just stop for a moment – that for a second, there could be blissful silence in her mind and her stomach wouldn’t feel so heavy, and her s would just stop aching all the goddamned time. How she’s avoided thinking about this pregnancy as real when it’s so goddamned obvious is just another mystery. Her entire body is changing and there’s no way to stop it; there’s a doctor in the other room who can prove to her just what’s inside of her uterus and this is really happening.

Get rid of it, then. The whisper is becoming gradually louder and she wants to scream because she told Siwon she wouldn’t, but it’s becoming a more and more attractive prospect as time goes by. How is keeping it the best option, when there’s no guarantee she could ever love a child?

. She can feel it happening again, as she wobbles out of her position on the floor and heaves into the toilet bowl once more. Her feet ache from the pressure of her high heels digging into tile, but she welcomes the pain; it’s a good distraction from the utter misery of throwing up nothing but air.

For a second, she pants, just trying to get her equilibrium back. tastes disgusting, but she doesn’t have her bag and there’s nothing to take the taste away, so she just rests against the plastic cubicle partition, head thrown back. Her hands are fisted in her loose shirt because she can’t bear to touch either the floor or herself; her body feels almost alien to her and all she can thinking about is the drumming of blood in her ears.

She stays like that for a minute or two, waiting until her heart is beating at a somewhat normal rhythm instead of holy I’m going to have a heart attack. She needs to get out of here, to convince Narae that she’s fine and didn’t just have a breakdown in the loo, but all she wants to do is run home and hide under the covers.

But she tried that and nothing happened, so there’s only one way forward – and that’s to face things like an adult. This isn’t the right time to be making decisions – not when she’s tired, running on empty and full of hormones. She needs a clear head, and a clear head requires relaxing, something that’s not going to happen in the threatening confines of a hospital. She snorts; like she can relax anywhere.

With one last deep breath to calm herself, she stands up, leaning against the door for support. She should be glad that nobody asked what she was doing in there (though really, they’re probably used to women throwing up in these toilets – it’s a maternity ward, after all), but she feels strangely alone. She brushes herself down, checks her face in the mirror and washes her hands quickly.

Narae’s waiting for her, when she finally staggers out. She knows she looks terrible; she can see it in Narae’s quirked eyebrow (sometimes she really hates just how perceptive her best friend is), but she just shakes her head. There’s nothing to say – she let her hormones and her fear get the better of her and she doesn’t want to talk about it, so can they please just go home now?

“You forgot your stuff.” Narae says instead, because she can sense Hyerin closing up and she’s not in the mood to play with dragging the truth out of her. Both of their bags are slung over one shoulder, Hyerin’s blazer is thrown over one arm, and in one hand, the ultrasound photo.

Hyerin can feel her heart thudding. She’s almost tempted to tell Narae to just throw the damn thing in the bin so she doesn’t have to see it, but that would be cruel and this baby deserves more than this total dismissal. Sighing, she holds her hand out for it.

Such a small, unassuming piece of cardboard, and yet it’s scaring the living daylights out of her – is there a name for this kind of phobia, she wonders? Her hands close over it, leaving sticky fingerprints on the glossy underside. She turns it over quickly, not sure why she’s so curious all of a sudden, but needing to assuage it.

It’s the name that gets her, in the top left hand corner. Song Hyerin. Her name overlaid on top of a weird, blurry black and white photo and suddenly she feels a strange rush of possession because she’s never really had something that’s all her own before. She looks at it with new eyes, determined to find some kind maternal feeling down in the recesses of her heart.

Maybe it’s the tilt of the head, thrown back as if in a strop, or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s recognisably baby-shaped, but there’s a strange feeling fluttering in the pit of her stomach and she can’t stop staring.

This is your baby, her mind seems to whisper. Yours. As her hand tightens around the tiny little picture, there’s a tiny little spark of tenderness.