Next Time
UndomesticatedJoonmyun leans against the door, arms folded loosely as he watches his wife on the phone.
“No, that's fine. No, no, I totally understand.” Kyungmi nods, biting her lip, and his heart aches. “Thank you for calling. Yes, I'll send your best wishes on to my husband. Okay.” Her voice is bright, understanding – but he can hear the pain underneath. “Bye now.”
For a moment, she just holds the phone, staring into space, before forcing a smile on her face and turning towards him. “There you are.” The smile wavers, but does not slip. It does not extend to her eyes. “That was the hospital. My eggs aren't viable.” She gives an unconvincing chuckle. “Again.”
He moves towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shakes her head before he can speak. “No, it's fine.” The catch in her voice makes it clear to him that it's anything but fine. “They said that can happen. There's always next time.”
She's been saying that for so long that it no longer sounds like a conviction. Instead, it's an insecure mantra.
He doesn't tell her this. “Yes, of course, baby,” he says instead, pulling her towards him. She rests her heavy head against his shoulder, and he her hair gently. “Next time.”
“Next time it'll work,” she whispers, and he doesn't mention the tears soaking into his shirt, because he can feel them gathering in the corners of his own eyes. “You'll see.”
He hopes so. God, he hopes so.
A short thing that happened because I'm sick.
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