Chapter Text
Early mornings used to bother him. The glory days of college encouraged him to stay up late into the night. Before that, his parents sometimes woke up to find him staring bleary eyed at a computer, fully immersed in his gaming habits. He felt more energized in the night, drawn to the moon and stars rather than the blazing light of the sun. Some poetic part of him waxed about the phases of the moon being more explanatory for his personality compared to the singular brightness of the sun.
In the last ten years, Jeongguk’s life changed to the point where early mornings became a necessity. A welcome one.
“Good morning, my sweet little love,” he crooned, peering into the dim bedroom. A pair of familiar brown eyes stared back at him, alight with recognition and happiness. Tiny, chubby hands gripped the railing of the crib as a little baby rose on shaky legs. He babbled happily, making Jeongguk’s chest constrict. He saw this almost every morning, but it tugged at his heartstrings everytime.
“Are we ready to start the day?” he murmured, sweeping into the room. He pulled back the curtains at the window, letting early morning light bleed into the room. Jungwon squealed in joy, bouncing where he stood. Jeongguk laughed and reached into the crib to pick up his son.
“Daaad!”
Jeongguk looked over his shoulder at the call, his wide smile growing wilder.
“Yessss?” he answered in the same manner.
His older son, Heeseung, poked his head around the door. A blanket hung around his shoulders, accompanied by a stick in his hand. Jeongguk frowned at it, prompting Heeseung to quickly hide it behind his back. He grinned sheepishly.
“Can I go play outside?”
“We haven’t had breakfast yet, little guy,” Jeongguk reminded. He fought a chuckle at his son’s antics, carrying Jungwon over to the changing table. Heeseung trailed after him, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “It looks like you’ve already been outside too.” He glanced down at the small boy, raising an eyebrow. “Which, you didn’t ask.”
He pouted. “‘M sorry.”
“Clearly now buddy.”
“I am sorry,” he enunciated. He looked up expectantly, causing Jeongguk to bite back a smile. He reached down to ruffle his hair.
“Thank you for apologizing. Let’s make sure to ask next time, okay?”
“Okay!”
Jeongguk patted his head again, humming. “How about you go put the stick outside, I’ll make breakfast, and then we can go to the park.”
Heeseung’s eyes lit up. “Can I push Jungie’s stroller?!”
“Of course, but you have to let daddy help.”
Heeseung pouted, crossing his arms. The stick smacked Jeongguk’s leg in the process, smearing dirt over his jeans. He wasn’t even phased.
“I can do it on my own.”
His lips twitched at the memory of the last time Heeseung insisted that he could do it alone. He got tired in five minutes, whining and complaining that his little brother was heavy. Jeongguk was wise enough to not argue with the four-year old that he’d been much heavier at Jungwon’s age.
“But daddy wants-”
“Jeongguk!”
The feminine cry of his voice immediately caused him to beam.
“In Jungwon’s room!” he called back, finishing up quickly as he tugged Jungwon’s cute little floral shorts on. Jungwon grabbed his toes, cooing and babbling as he stared at the shift of light against the ceiling.
Heeseung darted out of the room, happily calling, “Mom! Mom guess what Dad and Jungi and me is going to do!”
“You’ll have to tell me about it later tonight, baby. Mommy has to get to work—go put that stick outside! You know how I feel about bringing in- Jeongguk, do you know where I left my phone?!”
Hurriedly slipping a shirt over Jungwon’s head, ignoring the little ‘no’ he picked up his son and left the nursery.
Heejin, his—beautiful, gorgeous, no-other-being-could-compare—wife combed through the living room. She tossed aside blankets, stray shirts, and socks. Although she was pretty everyday, she had dolled up a lot more today. Her dark hair curled into elegant waves, framing her cat eyes. Whatever lipgloss she wore instantly drove Jeongguk up the wall.
“Probably on the desk, Heejin.” Jungwon squirmed in his arms, and Jeongguk let him down. He crawled over to a toy truck Heeseung left out, slapping it with his hands and cooing. Heejin let the blanket she had vigorously shook out fall from her fingers. She darted towards the kitchen. Jeongguk caught her by the waist, pressing his lips against the corner of her mouth. “Hey, beautiful-”
“Jeongguk, I’ve got to go! I’m going to be late!” she complained. He frowned, letting her go. She dipped into the office, him one step behind her. He leaned against the door, one eye on Jungwon and the other on her.
“So you don’t even have time to kiss me good morning?” he whined. She stacked papers and moved books.
“If you wanted to kiss me good morning you should have done it while I curled my hair.”
“I was getting Heeseung up.” He pouted. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his wife and force her to slow down, but he had to keep on eye on Jungwon.
Hejin didn’t respond, an irritated huff signaling that she still hadn’t found her phone. Jeongguk sighed, giving Jungwon a long glance before taking his eyes off his son. He leaned over his wife, pulling open the drawer. Heejin gasped, immediately grabbing her phone.
“There it is! How did you-?”
Jeongguk hooked his chin over her shoulder, pulling her against his chest.
“My dear wife,” he murmured against her ear. “We’ve been married for almost six years. You always put your phone out of sight when you’re working.”
She turned in his arms, pecking him on the lips before pulling out of his arms. It was far too quick.
“Thank you, Jeongguk. I’m glad you know me so well.” She flashed him an apologetic smile, running a finger down his shoulder to his hand. She squeezed it gently. “But I’ve got to go. Mr. Inglewood doesn’t tolerate lateness and he has a bunch of meetings today—you know what I mean.”
She didn’t wait for him to agree, sweeping out of the room. Seconds later he heard the front door open and close. Jeongguk stood in the office for another few seconds before stepping out. He immediately looked for Jungwon, finding him where he left him. Another door opened and closed, Heeseung skipping into the room. Jeongguk watched his eyes search the room, internally cringing.
“Is mommy already gone?” he asked, eyes widening. Jeongguk sighed to himself, but put on a big smile.
“Mom was running late so she had to go quickly.”
“But she didn’t even give me a kiss goodbye!” Heeseung whined, eyes shimmering. Jeongguk frantically thought of a solution. Tears this early in the morning usually set up for a difficult day.
“A-ah! But she did!” He crouched to be eye level with him. “Your mom gave me a kiss to give to you.” He wished that had been true, but he barely got one himself.
“Really?” Heeseung sniffled. Jeongguk’s heart sank. A familiar vein of irritation pulsed. He told Heejin that she needed to give more time and affection to the boys. That was the whole reason the goodbye kisses started. Little as they saw her, the boys loved and craved her attention. He needed to talk to her again.
“Really,” he echoed, grasping him by the shoulders. He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. His forehead followed, then his nose, and both cheeks. Heeseung giggled under the attention, pushing Jeongguk to pepper his face with them. He laughed.
“Dad! Stop! That’s too many kisses!”
He gasped in mock surprise. “Too many kisses? That’s impossible! I just love you so much-!”
He released another wave of them, making Heeseung groan and try to wriggle away. Jeongguk trapped him in his arms, playfully squeezing him.
“No, no, no!” Heeseung cried, laughing. “Let me go!”
“Never!” Jeongguk hissed, adopting his ‘evil crime lord voice’. He perfected it after a week of Heeseung needing an evil monster to save a princess from. “I won’t let you go until you say the magic words!”
He wriggled his fingers against Heeseung’s sides, making him shriek in laughter.
“Dad! Stop!” he giggled out. Jeongguk paused in his tickling.
“Magic words, Heeseung.”
His son hesitated, testing the threat. Jeongguk delivered, tickling him again. Jungwon giggled along, taking delight in his older brother’s laughter.
“Ok-ay! Ple-please!”
“Please what?”
“Please stop tick-tickling me, D-dad!”
He stopped, grinning as Heeseung collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath with a wide smile. It made his heart near bursting with love and adoration for his son—his little baby.
“I love you, Heeseung,” he murmured seriously, wanting him to know he full heartedly meant it. Heeseung rolled his eyes—who taught him that?—but smiled.
“I love you too, Dad.”
Oh, it killed him every time. He melted into a puddle. Why didn’t everyone want to be parents? This was great-
Hiccups sounded from beside him, a telling sound. He watched Jungwon’s face crumple, wincing at the wails filling the room. He learned by this point to ignore the pain in his ears as he hurriedly checked Jungwon for any injuries.
“Oh baby, are we hungry? Is that what it is?” Jeongguk murmured, picking him up. Heeseung watched them worriedly—some days he wanted nothing to do with his baby brother, but every other time he was fiercely protective of him.
“Why don’t you wash your hands, Heeseung, and I’ll get started on breakfast.”
“Okay!” Heeseung shot to his feet, probably more than thankful to escape the crying. Jeongguk grabbed a pacifier and offered it to his son. Jungwon took it without complaint. He gently wiped the tears from his soft skin. As he soothed his baby, his eyes drifted to the door.
When was the last time she held Jungwon? Soothed him when he cried?
He shook the thoughts from his mind, getting to his feet. She put him to bed yesterday. He needed to stop thinking like this.
“Daaad! I washed my hands!”
“Did you sing the ABC’s?”
“...no.”
Jeongguk laughed.
If someone asked Jeongguk if he was happy, he’d smile and say, “Yes.”
He had a lot to be happy about. He had the family of his childhood dreams. A beautiful wife, a dog, and two wonderful little boys. They lived in the perfect house, complete with the white picket fence. Jeongguk stayed home with his kids, doing whatever he wanted in the time that wasn’t occupied by his four year old kid and nine month old baby. His wife held a stable job as the personal assistant to the CEO of a technology company, bringing in enough money that they had everything they needed as well as everything they wanted.
He laughed whenever he thought about how he got to this moment. Traveling overseas for college, he stumbled and struggled to adjust to the new language and big city. He forced himself out of his shell to make a few friends, and everything from there went up.
He met his wife, Heejin, in a freak accident that included coffee, a final essay, and a dog. The moment they ended up awkwardly pressed against each other, coffee staining Jeongguk’s shirt, essay crumpled between them, and Heejin’s dog leash wrapped around their legs, Jeongguk knew she was the one.
Their romance burned bright with laughter, smiles, and passion. They got married in a whirlwind of emotion, ignoring the caution of their parents and friends. Jeongguk and Heejin laughed off their concern. They were in love and didn’t have a reason to wait.
Both of them panicked when Heejin got pregnant. They wanted children, but they planned it for the future. The far future. Stable, steady jobs and degrees future. Only in their second year of college, living in a cheap apartment, there was no way they could care for a child. Especially not with both of them in school full-time while also juggling part-time jobs.
The night before the first doctor’s appointment, Heejin sat him down and asked how he felt about abortion. Jeongguk agreed it was an option.
He didn’t expect to fall in love. Eyes glued to the screen, seeing their tiny little embryo—their baby—Jeongguk’s heart broke at the thought of never meeting them. He squeezed his wife’s hand. A silent plea.
She didn’t ask about abortion.
He dropped out of school, adding a full time job on top of his part-time. Heejin argued that she should have been the one to drop out, but there was no mistaking how grateful she was. Some nights were easier than others. Stress, exhaustion, and arguments filled that time. Happy moments burned bright in his memory. Once, Heejin surprised him at work, excitedly putting his hand to the underside of her swelling stomach. Feeling their baby kick left him a sobbing mess on the floor. He remembered opening the envelope that contained their child’s gender, not that it mattered, but his heart pounded harder than it had in his life.
All memories paled in comparison to the night their son was born. He paced the hall outside the hospital room, flinching with each scream. He stared at the door when a different cry sounded. A nurse collected him moments later. He froze at the sight of his wife, sweaty, and exhausted. He stared at the bundle in her arms, the source of the sound.
He never forgot how it felt to hold him for the first time, the world muted around him.
They named him Heeseung.
He became the light in their home, even if he cried more than anything else. Heejin took the next semester off to help Jeongguk, but he shooed her back to school when the following semester started. Terror gripped him when he explained that he didn’t want to go back to school. He wanted to spend every possible second with their doe-eyed baby, gripped by too much love and pain every time he left for his job at night. It took some… time for him to gain her support. He received most of it from his parents before she came around.
Jungwon came to them three years later, after Heejin started working for the company. Once again, unplanned. Not even a thought in their brains. He remembered the weeks leading up to that conversation, the night vivid. Jeongguk had his hands full with the terrible twos, arguably more exhausted than his wife. He thought taking care of a newborn was hard, but Heeseung surprised him. He’d been complaining to her about their terror of a son, knowing his words didn’t have much of an effect because of his contradicting love sick smile. Heeseung could grow up to be a serial killer and he’d still love him. (He’d be disappointed, horrified, and question his parenting skills, but he would still love him)
((Not that Heeseing would never become a serial killer.))
((Jeongguk would have to see if there was a parenting book titled: How not to raise your child to be a serial killer: for dummies))
She interrupted him mid rant with a simple question.
“So you don’t want another kid?”
Jeongguk looked up, noting her smile and playful eyes. He wiggled closer to her on the bed, laying his head in her lap and winding his arms around her stomach.
“I’m not saying that. I’m telling you about my day. And how we need to section off the bathroom. It took me forever to clean up the water…” he trailed off, peering up at her. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “Just curious.”
Jeongguk pushed himself up, putting them nose to nose. He placed a gentle kiss on her mouth, smiling.
“Do you want another baby?” He kissed her again, longer and suggestive. She hummed against his mouth, corners twitching upward. His hands found her hips, fingers curling. “Because we can have another baby.”
“You’re terrible.” She laughed as he turned his attention to her neck, peppering the skin with light kisses.
“That’s not what you said last ni-”
She shoved at his shoulder, making Jeongguk break out in laughter.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop…” he trailed off. Her hand, still on his shoulder, had something in it. Jeongguk took her wrist. She turned her palm face up. He took the object with shaking fingers.
“Is this…?”
Heejin smiled wryly.
“You’ve got to buy better condoms, Jeon.”
An an ExperiencedDad™, preparation for their second child was easier. He knew what to buy, what to expect with each trimester, and generally what to do. He knew when to leave her alone and when to be her punching bag. He grew accustomed to turning on the blender at three a.m, trying not to be sick as he handed her a mustard and blueberry bagel smoothie. He knew what to say when she’d sob, crying about how she was unattractive and fat.
(“Sweetheart, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant.”
“And?!”
“Uh…”)
He had everything figured out.
Hell broke loose.
Heejin woke him up in the middle of the night, shaking in pain. He immediately called one of their friends to watch Heeseung. She stayed silent on the drive to the hospital, responding with, “I’m okay” to every question.
He realized she lied to him when he saw the blood in the passenger seat.
To this day, he can’t remember the medical term the doctors told him. He can’t remember what went wrong. The entire night blurred the second the doctors took her, blood trailing her every step. He didn’t sleep the whole night.
Jungwon was born at 6:39 a.m at twenty-five weeks and three days. He began intensive treatment in the NICU. Heejin was in the clear after her emergency c-section. Due to complications, Jungwon would be their last biological child.
For the next fifteen weeks, Jeongguk and Heejin lived at the hospital. They switched off who would stay with Heeseung. Jeongguk more often than not stayed at the hospital. He held Jungwon first, careful of all the wires and tubes attached. He worried that he would do something wrong and cause pain for his little boy—his baby. He tormented himself at night, reading and re-reading articles and research on early birth, preparing himself for every complication Jungwon might have growing up.
He went to his knees in tears when the doctors told him Jungwon developed faster and healthier than other babies. He’d grow up to be a normal, healthy child without any complications.
At week thirty seven, Heejin came back from the hospital with their little baby cradled in his arms.
Jeongguk welcomed his cemented role as an at home dad. He loved every second of it, raising their kids while Heejin worked. Their lives were perfect, settling into normalcy and routine.
He was happy.
…he just wished his wife was around more.
He loved that she worked. He was thankful that she worked. She loved her job. But she didn’t spend enough time with the kids. She didn’t spend enough time with him. She would wake up, go to work, come home and work some more. After dinner, she locked herself in the office, crawling into bed somewhere between one and three in the morning. Once in a while was fine, but it turned into almost every night.
At some point, her job became her first priority.
Jeongguk knew he could be happier—a lot happier, but it was fine.
He was fine.
But the moments his kids were unhappy?
That was a different story.
“They miss you, Heejin! I miss you!”
“What do you want me to do, huh? Do you want me to quit?!”
“No! That’s not what I said at all. I’m just asking-”
“Asking? Jeongguk, you’re demanding!”
“It is not demanding for me to ask you to spend more time with your kids!”
“They’re your kids too-”
“You don’t think I know that?! I’m the one who is present in their lives! You would be too if you actually tried-”
“I do try! How dare you even try to say that I don’t!” Heejin yelled, breaking their hissed whispers. He shot a fearful glance at the living room. Jungwon was already in his crib, but Heeseung watched Mulan in the other room. Thankfully, no head peeked up over the couch.
“Heejin,” he pleaded, lowering his voice. She fumed, eyes cold and angry. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest. He squeezed her arms gently. “Please. For two nights a week, leave the work at the office and spend time with us-”
“You’re ridiculous,” she growled, ripping out of his grasp. Jeongguk watched numbly as she stalked out of the kitchen. The door slammed.
As Jeongguk gave Heeseung his bath, he was uncharacteristically quiet. Jeongguk knew he heard them arguing.
“It’s nothing, buddy,” he reassured, drying his hair. He paused to kiss him on the forehead. “Your mommy and daddy love each other. We argue sometimes, but we always make up.”
“Does mommy love me?”
The whispered words broke Jeongguk’s heart.
“Of course she does,” he croaked.
To his horror, tears filled Heeseung’s eyes. He hiccuped, small hands pressing to his face. Jeongguk pulled him into a hug, rubbing a hand up and down his back. Heeseung clung to him, tears and snot soaking into his shirt.
“Buddy, hey, why are you crying?” he asked desperately, fighting his own emotions.
“B-becuz! Mo-mommy doe-doesn’t l-l-love me!”
“Why do you think that?”
Heeseung rubbed a pajama sleeve over his running rose. Jeongguk immediately reached for a tissue, putting it up to his nose and telling him to blow. His tears slowed.
“Mom never says so. She never holds me or picks me up… at school Tucker’s mom always says that she missed him and she loves him, a-and she asks how his d-day was.” Heeseung sniffed, face crumpling again. “Mommy doesn't.”
“Oh.” He fought back tears of his own. He thought Heeseung was too young to make those connections. He thought he had time to talk to Heejin before their kids were affected.
“Buddy, I’ll tell you what.” He smiled, trying to force his emotions down. “I’ll prove to you that your mom loves you. When you wake up tomorrow, your mom is going to be the one to help you get ready for the day. Before she leaves for work, she’ll give you the biggest hug and a kiss- no four kisses!” He spread his fingers, intentionally keeping all five up.
“Daddy, you’re holding up five fingers, not four.” Heeseung giggled.
“Ah, right, right.” He tucked in his thumb. “You can count really well.”
He beamed with praise, his chest puffing proudly. “Ms. Abigail taught us to count to ten yesterday!”
“That’s amazing! Tell your mom that tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded eagerly, eyes bright with hope. “And she’ll say she loves me?”
“Absolutely.”
“How do you know?”
His heart broke. He kept smiling despite the rage building in his chest. Heeseung shouldn’t need this much reassurance.
“Because mommy and I know each other very well.”
Heejin didn’t come back until two a.m.
She shut the door behind her silently. Jeongguk didn’t look up from his drawing, the pencil sketches illuminated by the single lamp on the side table. He didn’t have much time for drawing, but he picked up a few commissions now and then. Most families took pictures to keep memories. Jeongguk did that, but he drew them as well, wanting each line to be filled with emotion.
“You have work tomorrow.”
“I know,” she murmured.
“Why didn’t you come back earlier?”
“Interrogating me?” she snapped.
Jeongguk closed the sketchbook, looking up at her. He made sure his emotions bled into his expression. Sorrow. Confusion. Anger.
“Is there a reason I should be?”
“Jeongguk,” she groaned, moving towards the bathroom. His chest stung. She didn’t tell him no. “I’m tired. Can we go to sleep and forget about-”
“Heeseung asked me if you loved him.”
She stopped.
“What?” she rasped. “Why would he ask that?”
“Do you?” His grip on his pencil tightened.
“Yes!” she answered, horrified. “He’s my son! How could I not—do you think I don’t love him?”
The lump in his throat grew. With each passing second, Heejin’s face paled.
“Jeongguk, you don’t think I love my children?”
“I know you do.” He shook his head, lower lip wobbling. “But it’s gotten to the point I have to convince myself that you do.”
“I-”
“You’re never here, Heejin. And I’m not talking about the time you spend at home. When you’re with us you aren’t present. You’re in the office. Or-or just absent. Do you remember anything Heeseung told you about today?”
The panic in her eyes answered the question. “That- I-”
Jeongguk’s eyes filled with tears. He dropped his pencil. She stopped stuttering, silence desecrating the room. She pressed a hand to her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Jeongguk longed to pull her into his arms and tell her it was alright.
But it wasn’t.
“W-what do I do? How do I fix this?” she asked, voice cracking.
“Make time for them,” he whispered. “No more disappearing into the office after work. When you clock out, you’re done.”
“But I can’t. I-”
“Don’t you dare make excuses,” he snapped. “You asked me what to do and I told you. Do you want to continue to know nothing about your son like a distant parent that doesn’t give a damn or do you actually want to be his mother?”
“I want to be his mother,” she whispered. “I am his mother.”
“Then act like it.”
He turned away, picking up his sketchbook and setting it on the desk table. He heard her footfalls, warning him before the bed dipped. Arms fell around him, lips pressing against his neck.
“I’m sorry.”
Jeongguk didn’t respond, angry and upset. Both at himself and his wife. But she was his wife, and he loved her, despite how badly she screwed up.
He turned in her arms, kissing her softly. His apology fell into the space between. He didn’t object when she crawled into his lap, undoing the buttons on his shirt. Despite not being in the mood, he needed reassurance that he was loved too. She whispered the words in his ear, traced it against his skin. She drifted off afterwards.
Jeongguk laid awake, numb.
“Jeongguk! Have you seen my phone?”
“Did you check the drawer?!” he yelled over his shoulder, grabbing Jungwon’s fingers before he reached for the pan. “No.”
The year old baby blinked at him on Jeongguk’s hip. “No?”
“Good Jungwonie.” He smiled.
He gave him a toothless smile, sticking his fingers into his mouth. Jeongguk grimaced as those same fingers pressed into his cheek.
“It’s not there-! Ah, whatever!”
He turned at the sound of her nearby voice, smiling as she entered. His favorite pair of earrings swung from her ears. She often teased him that he needed to pierce his ears to wear them himself. Another shade of maddening lip gloss, something with tiny sparkles that caught in the light, painted her mouth.
“Hello there, beautiful.” He smirked. Heejin picked her purse off of the chair, rolling her eyes.
Vast improvements were made over the months. Heejin spent more time with them, focusing mostly on the kids. Jeongguk didn’t mind it; he wanted her to rebuild her connection with them first. It went well. Heeseung never asked him heartbreaking questions and didn’t cry when Heejin left for work, satisfied by her smothering of affections. She even took a few days off so they could all go to Disney World. Jeongguk expressed how much he appreciated it that night.
Which… left him confused.
He loved Heejin. He knew he did. But their physical relationship was… lacking? No, that wasn’t the word. It didn’t-
“Heeseung! Come here so mom can give you a kiss!”
“I want five kisses!” Heeseung yelled. They laughed as he came careening around a corner, slamming into her legs with enthusiasm. She crouched down to kiss him with dramatic “Mwah”’s.
Jungwon squirmed in Jeongguk’s arms.
“Heejin, I think your other baby wants a kiss.”
She looked up, unimpressed. “Are you asking for yourself or for Jungwon?”
He grinned. “Jungwon, but I don’t mind getting one too.”
“Moooom, you only gave me four!”
“I’m sorry my little guy. Here you go.”
“Ma,” Jungwon whined, reaching towards her. Heejin cooed before kissing his nose, making him giggle. Jeongguk’s heart constricted; he knew he wore a dopey grin.
“Alright, mom has to go.” She turned to leave. Jeongguk pouted.
“What about me?”
“Ah, right. Forgot about my third baby,” she teased. She leaned up to kiss him, one hand curling over his neck.
No spark. No heat. No pleasure.
It was just… a kiss. Two mouths pressed together.
“Satisfied?”
No. “Yep!” He grinned, ignoring the confused twist in his stomach.
As Jeongguk put Jungwon down for a nap, he caught the faint ring of a phone. With his own resting in his back pocket, he realized it was Heejin’s. Jeongguk followed the sound to their bedroom. Wrestling with the tangled sheets, he dumped the phone out. He frowned at the called I.D. Given he didn’t recognize the name, it had to be someone from work.
Jeongguk answered it, not wanting it to be something important and his wife not getting the message.
“H-”
“Hey baby! I know that you mentioned wanting to try that new Thai place. So how do you feel about lunch. Should I pick you up around one? Two?”
Jeongguk’s blood ran cold.
“Heejin? You there?”
The question he asked Heejin months ago, one he forgot about until now, rose up in his brain. The question she hadn’t answered.
He’d been so stupid.
“Did I dial the wrong number? Uh. Is this Kim Heejin-”
“This is Jeon Heejin’s phone because she changed her last name seven years ago,” Jeongguk growled, grip on the phone tight enough to shatter. “Who the hell are you and how did you get my wife’s number?”
They went dead silent.
Then, in a tiny, dread filled voice, the caller responded.
“She’s married?”
“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know,” Yugyeom rasped, eyes red and blotchy. He’d been crying for a while. Jeongguk knew he looked the same. They watered now, staring at what Yugyeom brought. Pictures, gifts, personal items she left at his apartment… Jeongguk didn’t want to see the evidence his his wife’s betrayal, but he knew she would deny it until he second guessed himself.
“I believe you.” His voice cracked.
“I- I can’t believe I- I’m a homewrecker,” Yugyeom buried his face in his hands. Shoving down his own pain and hurt, he reached over to grab his shoulders.
“Yugyeom, it is not your fault. Please, please don’t blame yourself.”
“I saw the ring. I asked her and she said she put it on the wrong finger. I should have questioned it more-”
“Yugyeom,” he pleaded. The man lifted his head. Jeongguk tried to smile, but he knew it came out as a grimace. “Please. I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself.”
He nodded, a sharp jerk of his chin, but Jeongguk knew where his eyes were. They rested on the carrier Jungwon babbled in. He would have left him behind if he could.
“Thank you for giving me all of this.” He tapped the box of evidence with shaking fingers. “And… and thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Thank you for not punching me.” Yugyeom laughed weakly. His smile dropped. “I would have, if I had been you.”
“Well, if you insist.”
His eyes widened, arms flinching. Jeongguk laughed, but the laughter turned into sobs. Yugyeom rounded the table in the private room to pull Jeongguk into a hug, proving further that he was nothing but innocent.
We could have been friends, he thought, driving home with stinging eyes. If they had met under different circumstances, they would have been. He was sure of it.
Jeongguk kept a smile plastered on when he picked up Heeseung from school. When Heejin came home, he kept it bright and happy. He managed not to flinch when Heejin touched him, but shied away from all intimate contact. When she slid a hand up his thigh under the dinner table, Jeongguk grabbed it and placed it on his knee instead. His stomach twisted and churned as he waited for Heejin to come into their room. When she did, all of his emotions slipped away, leaving behind nothing but calm.
“You spoil Heeseung too much,” she groaned, closing the door behind her. “I tried to leave after one bedtime story and he complained that you always read him two. Because I had to one up you, I read him three stories-”
“Do you love me?”
She blinked at him, smile slipping into confusion. “Of course I love you. I married you-”
“Then why?”
“Why what?”
Jeongguk tapped the box resting at his feet. Heejin giggled, stepping over to him with a sway to her hips.
“Jeongguk, I don’t know what that is.”
His emotions rushed back.
He kicked the box. Heejin jumped. The contents spilled out. A picture fluttered to her, face up. It caught her and Yugyeom, mid-smiling kiss.
She went white.
“How long?” he asked, voice dead.
She lowered her head, radiating shame. “Three months.”
“Don’t lie.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology,” he snapped. “How. Long.”
“You already kno-”
“Answer the question!” he yelled, fists clenched. His nails bit into his skin, grounding him. Heejin raised her chin, eyes hard.
“Almost a year.”
“Our anniversary was in two months,” Yugyeom murmured. He reached into his pocket. “I was going to-”
“Why didn’t you tell him you were married?” His voice trembled. From anger or sorrow, it didn’t matter.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an acceptable answer, Heejin!” Jeongguk cried, rising to his feet. Heejin flinched. He only grew angrier. Why did everyone expect him to hit them?! Heejin knew he hated physical violence.
“What do you want me to say?” she rasped.
“Anything,” he begged, grabbing at his hair. “Hell, even an excuse would be better than I don’t know. I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you cheat?”
She pursed her lips. She wasn’t going to say anything. He was at the end of his rope, going mad with the need to know why.
“Heejin,” he pleaded, tears flooding over. “If you ever loved me at all-”
“You don’t love me!” she screamed, the sound bubbling over a sob. “That’s why I did it! Because at least someone loved me.”
Jeongguk stood, stunned. Heejin’s shoulders shook with sobs. She covered her eyes with her hands.
“You don't see, Jeongguk. You don’t love me anymore. Not in the way you used to. Not in the way I want you to. I can tell that when I kiss you, when I touch you, when we’re in bed—you’re going through the motions. You don’t feel anything. I thought- I thought I was doing something wrong.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking and I know it was dumb and doesn't make sense now but I thought I could use him to figure out what I lacked.
“It spiraled out of control. I shouldn’t have. I know it was wrong. But the way he looked at me was just how-” She choked on a sob. “It was how you used to look at me. I was wanted.”
His head spun. The reality of what she said crashed down on him. Her cheating. How he felt about her.
She was right.
He still loved her, but he didn’t love her.
His glassy eyes met hers. She stopped talking, staring at him with hurt and sorrow. A mirror reflection of his own feelings.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. A confirmation. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.
“Don’t apologize.” She hiccuped. “There are things you can’t control. I’m the one- I did something I could control and I chose to do it even though it was so wrong. I’m so, so sorry.”
He couldn’t forgive her. Not yet. But she was still his wife. He loved her.
He rose to his feet, pulling her into his chest. He held her as she cried, stroking her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead. Each touch burned, but they were ingrained in his muscle memory. He held her until morning. Both their tears dried.
“Are we getting divorced?” she asked timorously. Jeongguk shook his head. Paused.
“I don’t know. We need time to think,” he murmured. “It’s not just us that we have to think about. We have our boys.” He pressed his lips together. “Do you love Yugyeom?”
“Not like I love you,” she whispered. “I could, I think. If I really wanted to.”
He sighed, placing his chin on her head. With her here, it was hard to think. Everything told him that he needed to stay. They could work this out. He could even learn to love her romantically again. But the pain, hurt, and worry tormented him. He knew he could be happier.
“I think I’m going to visit my parents,” he whispered. She tilted her head up, leaning away to peer at him.
“In Korea?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to make a decision when everything is so fresh. I know if I stay here I’m going to convince myself that we’re staying together.” He knew he hurt her, telling her that divorce was an option. But right now, he couldn’t imagine seeing her everyday for the rest of his life and dealing with the pain. “I need to go somewhere that’s not attached to you.”
Heejin nodded. She moved when she was young, having little to no memories of South Korea. The two of them never visited together since tickets were expensive and they had two kids to take care of.
“How long?”
“...two weeks.”
“Take the boys with you.”
Jeongguk sat up, eyes wide. “You-you want me to take the boys? All the way to Korea? For two weeks?”
“Your parents have never seen them in person. Our kids never officially met them,” she pointed out, sitting up. “I know that they’ll miss you a lot. They’re used to me being gone because of all the business trips. You’ve never been gone for more than a day or two.”
He stared at her.
“Do you know how stressful getting past TSA is going to be?”
Heejin snorted in laughter, throwing her head back. Jeongguk watched her, both in awe and sadness. Awe, because he saw her in a different light now. Sadness because he couldn’t look at her while she laughed in the way that he used to—the way she wanted him to.
He still didn’t know why.
“Go with the boys,” she said seriously, putting a hand on his chest. “Give yourself time to think and I’ll do the same.” Her hand fell with a small smile. “But I’ll tell you right now. I really don’t want to get a divorce. I-” She swallowed harshly. “I still love you even if you… don't love me the same way.”
“I could,” Jeongguk rasped. “I want to love you again. I don’t know why I stopped.”
Her lower lip wobbled, but she smiled.
“If you don’t know why you stopped, there’s a good chance you won’t start again.”
“Passport?”
“Yes.”
“Diaper bag?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Beautiful wife?”
He merely smiled at her. It had been almost a week since their crash and burn. Things were… better. Jeongguk felt lighter, despite all the hurt and pain. Having it out in the open allowed them to take proper steps in figuring out what to do next.
Jeongguk adjusted a sleeping Jungwon, careful not to wake him. He hoped they could catch the redeye standby flight. Heeseung bounced around at his feet, excited at being awake this late. Jeongguk knew he would crash in the car, and then he’d have a grumpy five year old to deal with.
Yay. So exciting.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he murmured as he finished strapping Jungwon to his car seat. He shut the door, sealing off their conversation from the kids. She nodded, smiling weakly. He grabbed her hand, thumb smoothing over her knuckles. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll take the next flight back in a heartbeat-”
“Don’t call me at all, Jeon,” she warned. “You said you needed time and if you say something like that…”
His heart sank. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she whispered. He squeezed her hand, letting go.
She grabbed it again.
Jeongguk looked back at her, eyes wide. Heejin didn’t meet his gaze, her focus on his hand. Shaky fingers hovered over his wedding band. She slid it off his finger.
“Heejin?” he rasped. Heartbroken.
She placed it in her palm, holding it up between them.
“For two weeks-” Her voice trembled. “-I give you permission to do whatever you want, as if we never made any vows.”
“Heejin,” he pleaded. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.
“We have an open relationship for two weeks.” She smiled, empty.
He grabbed her hand. “Heejin, I’m not going to do anything even if you take off my wedding band. Why would I even go looking-”
“Jeongguk,” she interrupted. “For you to really know what you want, I can not exist in your mind. This-” she held up the wedding band. “Can not hold you back.”
She handed him her left him, determination shining through her eyes. Jeongguk looked down at her engagement ring, where he knew the wedding band lay underneath. He stared, stared, and stared until Heejin placed his right hand over her left.
“No regrets,” she whispered.
He couldn’t breath as he slid the rings off her finger. He remembered buying both, heart pounding each time. His heart skipped every time she moved her hand and the jewels caught in the light.
His heart didn’t do that anymore. The memories were still there, but the emotions weren’t.
Where had they gone? Why weren’t they there anymore? Why couldn’t he just-
“Go,” Heejin croaked trying to stay strong even though she broke. It should have been fair, with how much Heejin broke him, but he felt sick. “You’ll miss the flight.”
“Can I be selfish?” he blurted. She knew what he wanted. To his surprise, she nodded.
Jeongguk cupped her face and kissed her desperately. He conveyed every emotion he felt. He could taste the saltiness of both their tears, feel the desperation in their hearts. He could feel her hope, that maybe he would come back feeling like before. The pleading. Even if he didn’t come back loving her like before, that he would choose to stay, that she could keep him even if it meant she’d always be hurt. She loved him.
She felt his desire to stay, to be with her and love her as much as she loved him. She felt his fear that he would come back not wanting to stay, an emotion that plagued him now. The fear of separation and dealing with the heartache that came with it. He lay in pieces at her feet, shattered by her betrayal. She broke their vows, his heart, his trust. It hurt more because he couldn’t even stay mad at her. She could feel his frustration, that even if they were on the brink of a life changing event, he still didn’t feel an ounce of romance as he kissed her.
“Go,” she gasped as they parted, crying freely now.
“I love you,” he sobbed. “I do, I really do.”
She put her hands over his, holding them to her for a little bit longer. She lowered her hand to his chest and pushed him away.
“Go. And when you come back-” She held up the rings he pressed into her palms. “You can put these back on my finger or we can sell them for our divorce party.”
Despite everything, Jeongguk laughed.