Dara has always been for schedules. Dara has always taken great comfort in structured goals, execution and deliverables. This was how she was.

These were her thoughts as she leaned heavily on her bathroom sink, the mirror shrouded with moisture from the steam of an earlier shower. She was wrapped in a cotton robe the was snug around her neck, and her hand flutters to her midsection, just where she had knotted her cotton belt, just where her future daughter was suspended inside her connected to her by blood and umbilical cord.

She stared at the mirror, at the blur of her reflection, and let herself remember why she felt so shaken.

i love you the most. Seung hyun had said, and she felt her inside quicken. And she wonders if that was nothing more than a delusion. Her baby was too small to be felt, and surely, surely it wasn't her heart.

She loved schedules. It was intent put into plan. It was expectation corralled in execution.

Seung hyun had always called her a control freak and that was true to the point of painful accordance of her preferred dating partners. According to Seung hyun, she liked pretty boys because she liked them delicate and bendable, flexible for her to shape to something she considers ideal.

And Seung hyun has always been unmalleable. Not that she thought anything was wrong for him to be so; she had always thought of Seung hyun as someone who grows unshaped, untamed into something quite remarkable.

But Seung hyun was not her type.

I love you the most.

This time she lets the faucet gush water with a wrench at the knob. She hears the drain gurgle down the torrent, the hollow tubes swallowing hungrily at the whirlpool.

Sandara purposefully squeezed a tube of toothpaste on her toothbrush, and begins to brush her teeth. The burst of cool in a jolt to her senses, and she wonders why something so beautiful like Seung hyun being in love with their daughter was making her sad.

Was she jealous of the same life she had vowed to love unconditionally? Was she jealous of the first girl Seung hyun would love more than he did her?

The cool mint begins to feel hot in and she frowns at her blurred reflection. Can she really be this horrible?

Sandara had always adored schedules and structures. It made her feel like she had control over life itself. It was primarily because of this adoration, she had scheduled her love, her pregnancy. Because at this age she was in her best shape. Biologically she was the best mom she could ever be. But if she thought of her daughter as some sort of competition, then maybe her psychological state was not in the prime.

Of course it wasn't romantic. Gargle. Spit.

Because Seung hyun wasn't her type. And she always followed her type.

Well, except for Yunho. And that was a mistake. She grimaced.

It was just her emotions were on a rampage and it was the hormones she mostly blamed. How can she be sad Seung hyun loved their baby? How can she not be overjoyed like that first time she saw him staring at their daughter all love struck and crying?

She loved on a schedule. She thought, as she wiped down the mirror, to slather on moisturizer on her face. The little finger trails on her reflection like soft waves of dew on her skin. She was loved on a schedule.

Dara doesn't have much memories of her youth except for Seung hyun. She did know a lot about herself. She valued self awareness and believed a an accurate self perspective gives a person the edge of self control. It meant that her defining moments were arranged on an archive, her memories reduced to chunks of stimuli input - emotional output. She knew of her self history like you would read a neatly timelined history.

June 10th - spoke to by parents about divorce

June 10th - pm, ran away from home

The context dissolved and diluted, did she hate her father? Her mother? Did she see them fight? Did they hate each other? She doesn't know. All she knew is that her outlook in love has always lied on the premise that one day true doesn't mean true forever more.

January 1 - last new year as family.

Back December 25 - father kissed mother under a mistle toe, last Christmas together

What does it have to do with anything? Only that her life followed a certain course, she could not stop, but followed under the discretion of adults.

August 26 - father moved out

And it was only a schedule that she knew she was loved. Her mother fought to prove that she was okay, that they were okay and she followed a schedule, an order in which there was no chaos afforded by heartbreak

7:00 am - breakfast

7:30 am - shower the kids

8:00 am - school

4:30 pm - help kids with homework

6:00 pm - prepare dinner

7:00 pm - dinner

8:00 pm - tv with the kids

9:30 pm - prepare kids for bed

10:00 pm - bedtime stories and bed

What the schedule was for Dara was the solid execution of her mother's strength, her love. This was why she had adapted to it so fluidly.

She dresses herself, falling into routine. She hears her front door open and gasp to a close. Seung hyun shouts, "Dara, are you ready yet?"

"Give me 10 minutes." She responds before she lets her hair dryer labour over the damp of her hair.

Her other hand on her stomach. Baby, she thought, maybe I don't exactly love you yet. But I'm coming. She thought. I'm sure I'm coming, give me 6 months.

At exactly 10 minutes she comes out, pristine as pristine whistle. Seung hyun grins at her.

And those feelings of sadness settle in her archive.

February 25th - First sonogram, Seung hyun loved her daughter, said he loved her the most, lapsed to some momentary sadness. Hypothesized as an outcome of heightened hormones. Possibly jealous of Seung hyun finding a girl he would love more than myself. Though not considered a normal reaction as per consultation with baby book, nothing to worry about. Mild depression during pregnancy is not as rare as feared. Consultation is advised.

"Let's go?" She asks.

He nods in agreement.

---

After he had said I love you the most, Dara instantly became teary eyed and refused to be ashamed of her tears. It was just that if it was something of a secret to Seung hyun, then her feelings would be shrouded in a secret, under that pressure she might confuse it for something like love.

So she cries, unabashed and Seung hyun had fumbled to his feet, fussed over her like she knew he would, "w-what's wrong?" He panics and his fingers trail on her cheeks, lightly wiping off her despair.

"I'm not sure. I'm upset." She had said honestly, "I... You love her the most?" She had asked, and she was afraid. Afraid of being misunderstood, afraid that he would assume that she wanted him to love her the way a man loved a woman which was surely, surely not the case.

But Seung hyun always knew her, knew her the best, "aw, tokki. You know I love you the most too. I love you the most, silly," he hugs her, the warmth of his embrace was the comfort of uncomplicated things, of platonic relationships, "you're my best friend." Labels were there for structure, without it everything collapses to chaos