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angstama · 5 days ago

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12 ; spaces between us | l.jn

pairing: dad!lee jeno x f!reader (ft. na jaemin)

genre: angst, slight fluff, co-parenting

synopsis — three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.

a/n: this chapter was... long😩😩 but i knew i had to upload chapter 12 before i leave for tds4 bangkok!!!!! i spent a great deal trying to craft this chapter out, so i hope everybody enjoys this chapter (tho i don't think we are gonna tbh bc my heart dropped while writing this bUT YES) please keep your comments asks coming in~ i'm forever happy to reply to them whenever i can~~~~ see you guys in the next chapter <333333 (also it's 4am for me now and i have yet to proof read this chapter so do pardon the grammatical errors or if there's any typos! will further edit along the way on my flight to bangkok!)

chapter music: the archer - taylor swift

sbu m.list | previous | next chapter

the hardest part about seeing someone after a long silence isn’t the meeting itself—it’s the not knowing. not knowing what you’ll say, how you’ll stand, whether your voice will betray you when you finally meet their eyes.

texting jeno about parent–child bonding day was easy enough. it was straightforward and didn't require you to be in his physical sphere.

the hard part came after—when he replied i’ll be there.

suddenly, your mind was a carousel spinning with questions you couldn’t pin down. what would you say to him? could you act like everything was fine? would your heart still trip over itself the way it used to? or had it finally learned to keep its pace? and most of all—were you ready to face him after the way things ended?

sleep wouldn’t come. you tossed and turned until your sheets felt like knots and it was killing you. “y/n, if you keep moving like that, i’m gonna show up to the deposition tomorrow looking like a zombie,” jaemin mumbled groggily, voice still husky with sleep. he shifted closer, looping his arms around you, pulling you back into the warmth of his chest.

“sorry, jaems… i can’t sleep.” you sighed, fingers finding his hair without thinking. he didn’t stop you; he never does. he knew it calmed you. a low hum vibrated against your neck before he sat up slowly, bringing you with him. “something bothering you?”

you looked down at your lap, shrugging. “i don’t know… i guess i’m just a little worried about tomorrow.”

“about seeing jeno again?” he asked quietly, his tone careful, like he already knew the answer. his fingers brushed over yours before intertwining them. “maybe? i don’t know—argh…” you exhaled sharply, frowning. “we just… haven’t really spoken since, you know.”

and the unspoken what ifs crept in—what if it’s awkward? what if you can’t be civil in front of jun? what if you ruin the day for him without meaning to?

“he’s coming for jun,” jaemin reminded you softly. “you don’t actually have to talk to him much.” his thumbs rubbed slow, grounding circles into the backs of your hands.

but even as he said it, you caught the faint pause between his words—the way his eyes lingered just a little longer on your face, as if searching for something you weren’t saying.

you don't know when skin ship with jaemin started feeling like sun kisses on your skin. maybe it was that one sunday morning when the two of you were sitting cross legged on the living room floor, nose deep into the book that the two of you had traded each other while jun was busy doodling away on his craft by the side. somewhere along the way, your neck had grown sore and you started rotating it slowly to ease the stiffness—when jaemin, without looking up from his page had reached over and gently massaged the back of your neck. his hand steady, his touch careful. his eyes never left his book, but you distinctively remembered your stomach doing somersault flips when his fingers brushes over your skin. it was since then, jaemin's touch had never felt foreign to you again.

and god—what is this feeling that’s been creeping into your soul?

“i guess you’re right,” you murmured, biting your lip. a part of you almost wished jaemin would be the one showing up tomorrow in place of jeno. maybe it was just because you’d grown so comfortable with his presence. maybe it was something else you weren’t ready to name yet.

“i’m always right,” jaemin chuckled softly, eyelids heavy but gaze still fixed on you.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah, whatever. go back to sleep.” you gave him a light push.

“hey, you’re the one who woke me up,” he laughed, catching your wrist and tugging you down with him. you let out a startled yelp that quickly dissolved into a quiet laugh. “you owe me one now.”

he slid a hand under the hem of your shirt—warm palm against your skin, not teasing, not urgent. just there. steady. grounding.

“oh, shut up, jaems,” you whispered, but the words came out softer than you meant them to.

jaemin didn’t say anything back. he only closed his eyes again, but that voice—your voice—lingered in his mind far longer than either of you would admit.

you’d been counting down the hours—hell, even the seconds—until you have to see jeno again.

now, standing in the cramped school carpark, your hands clasped together so tightly your knuckles ached, the weight of it all sat heavy in your chest. parents streamed past toward the school gates, but your eyes scanned only for one thing—one silver bmw you could recognise even in a blur.

“y/n.”

the voice made you spin around.

jeno stood there in a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. his hair was pushed up lightly, just enough to frame his face, and for a moment he looked exactly like the boy who had once stolen your heart. except now there was something different—the faint shadows under his eyes, the quiet weariness—but he was still, undeniably, just as handsome as you remembered.

“oh, jeno… hey.” your smile was small, polite, met by one just as polite from him. the two of you stood there, awkwardly rooted in the middle of your son’s school carpark.

“we should probably head in, right?” jeno asked, tilting his head toward the gates.

“oh—yeah… right. we should.” your words stumbled out, but neither of you moved. you shifted first, stepping forward at the exact moment he did, only for both of you to pause and step back again.

“oh—you can go first.” you gestured with a small wave of your hand.

jeno let out a soft chuckle, the kind that was more out of habit than ease, and walked ahead. you followed, keeping just a step behind, as if even now you weren’t sure how close was safe to be.

halfway to the gates, he glanced back at you over his shoulder—just for a moment, like he was checking to see if you were still there. his eyes softened, but whatever crossed his mind stayed locked behind the faint curve of his mouth. and then he faced forward again, the moment slipping away like it never happened.

the space between you felt too small and too far all at once. every time his arm swung back in stride, you caught the faint scent of his cologne—familiar, almost painfully so. you noticed the way his glasses slid down just a fraction when he looked toward the school, the way his shoulders lifted in a shallow breath like he was steadying himself, too.

once, you’d known this man’s every heartbeat. now, you weren’t sure if you even knew where to place your own.

you spot jun waiting eagerly for your arrival, his small body bouncing slightly as he scans the crowd, eyes darting until they land on you and jeno. the instant he sees you both, his face transforms—joy lighting up every feature.

"mummy! daddy!" he squeals, sprinting toward you with unsteady but determined steps.

"hey, buddy!" jeno crouches down immediately, arms open wide, pulling jun into a tight embrace. "i missed you so much." he ruffles his hair. "i missed you soooo much too, daddy!" jun drags the words out for emphasis, as if to compensate for all the time he’s spent missing his father.

"i missed you sooooo much too, buddy." jeno copies him, exaggerating the length, and you laugh quietly, the sound catching a little in your throat. it’s a small, fleeting warmth that makes the ache from the months apart feel just a bit lighter. you watch as father and son mirror each other perfectly, and something inside you softens, remembering why you once loved him so deeply.

hand in hand, the three of you weave through the crowd, your palms sweaty but steady as jun squeezes between you and jeno. the hall is bustling, filled with the hum of parents’ conversations and children’s laughter, wooden floors creaking under the weight of excitement. you settle onto the floor with jun between you, feeling the familiar comfort of being part of a small family unit, however complicated.

"welcome to parent-child bonding day!" the principal announces, voice booming but cheerful.

your gaze drifts to a towering trophy, its ribbons glinting red and blue under the fluorescent lights. jun tugs lightly on both your sleeves, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "mummy, daddy, we have to win that." his wide eyes shine with determination, as if victory isn’t just a game but a mission.

you glance at jeno, and the soft curve of his lips as he smiles at jun makes your chest ache a little—because he’s still that boy who stole your heart, yet also someone distant, someone you haven’t fully spoken to in months.

"we’ll try our best, champ," jeno murmurs, voice low but warm, squeezing your son’s hand.

jun beams, bouncing in place. "okay! okay! i’ll help too!" he says, and immediately starts strategizing in a rapid-fire whisper, laying out a plan of attack for the day’s games.

you lean back slightly, observing—the way jeno listens to jun, the way jun’s enthusiasm makes him soften, the small smile tugging at the corners of jeno’s mouth. it’s effortless, and it stirs something you didn’t expect—a pang of longing, mixed with gratitude. because in this moment, jeno is present, truly present, and for jun, that’s all that matters.

yet beneath the joy, a flicker of uncertainty lingers. you notice the way jeno’s gaze flicks to you sometimes, just long enough for your eyes to meet, before he turns away quickly. there’s a weight there, an unspoken history, a gap of months and misunderstandings that neither of you has bridged yet. your heart tightens, aware that today, every interaction will be careful—polite, present for jun, but measured.

jun tugs again, breaking your reverie. "come on, mummy, daddy! we gotta win!"

you squeeze his hand back, letting a genuine smile slip. "alright, buddy. let’s do it."

jeno nudges your shoulder lightly with his, a silent, small reminder that despite everything, you’re still in this together, if only for these moments. the rest—the past, the hurts, the complicated emotions—can wait. for now, there’s jun, laughter, and a trophy waiting to be won.

the first event is announced over the loudspeaker, and your stomach tightens with excitement and nerves. "first up, the three-legged race! parents and children, get ready!"

jun immediately squeals, grabbing both of your hands. "mummy! daddy! let's go!"

you glance at jeno, who is already crouching down to tie the band around your legs. “you ready, buddy?” he asks jun, who nods eagerly.

soon, the three of you are awkwardly strapped together—your right leg tied to jun's left, jun’s right to jeno's left—forming a clumsy, wobbly triangle. you wobble a little, catching jeno’s steadying hand. “careful… don’t trip us,” you mumbled, and he smirks, letting his hand linger briefly against yours before stepping back.

the whistle blows.

“three… two… one—go!”

the first steps were shaky. jun giggles, flailing his arms to keep balance. jeno leans slightly toward you, muttering, “okay, slow and steady… match your steps with me.”

you take a deep breath, trying to sync with him. each step feels like a negotiation—your left foot, his right, jun’s little legs bouncing wildly in between. laughter bursts from all three of you as you stumble, almost toppling over a couple of times.

“i think we’re doing it!” jun yells, his face alight with determination.

“just don’t look down,” jeno says, his voice teasing but focused. there’s a familiarity to the way he guides you both, a rhythm that your body remembers even after months apart. every step he takes against yours sends a faint spark through you—not quite longing, but a reminder of the closeness you once shared.

by some miracle (and lots of teamwork), you cross the finish line in first place. jun throws his arms around both of you, hugging tightly, while you laugh breathlessly, leaning into jeno’s shoulder.

"mummy! daddy! we did it!" jun cheers, spinning in a circle.

jeno grins down at you, eyes bright, and for a fleeting second, you feel like you’re back in the old days—the three of you a little family, clumsy but perfect in these small moments.

and yet, beneath the joy, there’s that familiar tug in your chest, a quiet tension lingering between you and him. the months apart haven’t vanished, and today, every shared laugh, every brush of his hand against yours, feels layered with both affection and unresolved history.

but for jun, it doesn’t matter. all that matters is the laughter, the victory, and the warmth of having both parents close—even if it’s just for these few hours.

after catching your breath from the three-legged race, the announcer calls out the next game: “parent-child relay! each team must pop a balloon by sitting on it before tagging the next teammate!”

jun squeals, bouncing on his heels. “mummy, daddy! we’re gonna win again!”

you exchange a glance with jeno, and he raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his expression. “ready to embarrass ourselves in front of the school?” he teases, and you chuckle softly, feeling a spark of the old banter return.

the three of you lined up. jun goes first, squealing as he jumps on the balloon, popping it instantly. you go next, carefully sitting just right, and you feel jeno’s encouraging gaze at your back. finally, it’s his turn—he dramatically sits, popping the balloon with a triumphant laugh, and you can’t help but laugh along, the sound warming your chest.

“not bad… not bad at all,” you say, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. jeno grins but his eyes linger on you a second longer than necessary, and your stomach flutters, just a little.

then came the last game.

the announcer called out, “parent-child piggyback race! parents must carry their partner and race to their child—first one to reach them wins!”

you blinked. “wait… what?” your gaze fell on jeno, already kneeling on one knee, back to you, waiting for you to climb on. hesitantly, you swung yourself onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck as he rose steadily to his feet.

“jeno… be careful,” you mumbled softly.

“don’t worry. i’m not gonna drop you,” he replied calmly, his hands adjusting to make sure you were steady.

and he didn’t. jeno kept his word, moving with a quiet, careful pace down the track towards jun. each step was fast, but there was a rhythm to his movements—as if he’d carried you this way a thousand times before, though it had only been a handful of moments like this.

jun’s little arms shot out as he spotted you approaching, voice ringing out: “daddy! mummy!”

jeno crouched slightly as he neared the finish line, lowering you gently so you didn’t lose balance. both of you almost tumbled into a heap of laughter, and jun squealed, leaping into your arms. “we won! we won!”

you looked up at jeno, breathless, cheeks flushed. for a brief moment, your eyes locked. there was a softness there—a quiet spark of something long familiar, a warmth you hadn’t realized you’d missed. jeno’s gaze lingered just as long, steady and calm, not teasing, just… present.

“i told you i wasn't gonna drop you,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his voice low but certain.

safe to say, the three of you were unstoppable. every game—three-legged races, balloon relays, piggybacks—seemed effortless. you and jeno moved in sync without speaking, instinctively adjusting to each other’s pace, while jun’s energy pushed you forward.

the crowd couldn’t help but watch, some impressed, some envious, as your trio crossed finish lines, ribbons clutched in victorious hands. each cheer felt layered: the outward triumph, the quiet relief of having fun together, and the tender satisfaction of knowing jun was beaming brighter than anyone else in the field.

when you lifted jun in celebration, spinning him in the air, jeno’s warm gaze followed every movement. he didn’t say anything, just a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

and for a moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, to smile without guilt, to revel in the ordinary yet extraordinary joy of this little moment—the three of you, together, nothing else in the world existing outside the laughter and cheers around you.

“here.” jeno handed you a bottle of water, and you gratefully accepted it, letting the cool plastic rest in your hands as he settled beside you. your own bottle had already been uncapped. a habit that jeno used to do for you.

“thanks,” you mumbled your voice quiet in the aftermath of the day’s excitement. your fingers traced the condensation on the bottle absentmindedly. the two of you watched jun, proudly showing off his trophy to his friends, bouncing on the balls of his feet with uncontainable joy. miss solar’s eyes followed him, smiling warmly before flicking back to you and jeno, a silent acknowledgment of the rare harmony between your little trio.

“he looks really happy,” jeno said softly, his gaze never leaving jun. he tapped his fingers lightly against his own bottle, almost nervously.

“yeah… he really does,” you replied, eyes still fixed on your son. you twisted the cap of your bottle in your hands, twisting it back and forth.

and then silence settled between you, heavy and familiar, stretching out like a thin thread neither of you knew how to sever.

you should probably say something.

finally, you spoke. “hey… thank you for coming today,” you said, breaking the quiet. your foot tapped lightly against the ground, betraying your nerves.

“no… thank you,” jeno shook his head, leaning back slightly, eyes flicking to your hands before meeting your gaze. “for letting me… be here.”

you nodded. “well… it was more like jun’s teacher got us together,” you explained, taking a slow sip from your bottle, hoping to mask the flutter of nerves in your chest. jeno’s brow furrowed slightly, curiosity softening the tension in his expression. he ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the ends.

“yeah? how so?”

“yeah,” you said quietly, “jun’s been struggling a little at school… ever since… you know… the fight we had.” guilt crept in with every word. jeno’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you caught the ghost of his own regret in his eyes. he absently drummed his fingers against his knee.

“i’m sorry, y/n… for all the hurt i caused you,” he said quietly, almost to himself. he avoided your gaze for a second, staring at the ground. “i know no apology can erase the pain i caused… and i hate myself for it.”

your breath hitched. his words sank deep, a tender ache that made your heart clench. you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a small gesture of grounding yourself. “thank you for that, jeno,” you mumbled, letting the warmth of your hand brush his. he glanced down at your hand, then back at you, a faint, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “and… i’m sorry, too… for keeping jun away from you all this time.”

“i deserve that. i really do,” he said with a small, rueful chuckle. he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had when feeling exposed. you laughed softly too, a gentle release of tension, and it felt like the first small bridge forming between you after months of distance.

and you don't know where you got the sudden confidence from but you asked anyways. because you should. if you wanted to keep this relationship alive, if you wanted jun to continue to have jeno in his life, you had to ask. you had to at least try.

“how’s the pregnancy preparations going?” you asked, careful, tentative, brushing the back of your neck as you tried to sound casual.

jeno’s expression softened, but there was a shadow in his eyes. he shook his head slightly, eyes downcast. “you don’t have to ask that, y/n,” he said gently, already sensing the weight of the answer. he knew no matter what he said, it'd hurt you. and he's done enough.

“no… i do. i have to. i want to,” you insisted, placing your hand on top of his. he looked at it for a long moment before meeting your eyes

“the baby is healthy..." he began. “but soomin… she’s not really talking to me right now.”

“why?” you asked quietly, concern threading your voice. you leaned in slightly, subtly closing the space between you. “her family… they’re upset that i didn’t get you off the case,” he admitted, shoulders tightening.

“oh…” you nodded slowly, unsure what to say. your fingers traced small circles on your bottle, feeling the plastic indent under your touch.

“but… i’m not going to ask you again. that was stupid of me to even think about it. i was just… scared. scared they’d do something to you, or to jun,” he confessed, eyes dropping to his hands.

“were they going to?”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he said, shaking his head with a soft sigh. he leaned back, fingers lacing behind his head. “at this point, i don’t even know anymore. it feels like soomin's slowly pushing me away.”

“was this… how you felt during our marriage?” he asked, hesitant, like he was afraid of the answer. “i guess… yeah,” you admitted softly, looking down at your hands. you felt alone so many nights… wishing he'd see you, talk to you…

“i’m sorry i was so… horrible to you, y/n,” jeno said, his voice heavy with regret. he looked at you, then away again, biting his lip. “you were my best friend. i loved you so much… but i felt like i wasn’t doing things right, and i let my own insecurities get the better of me.”

and for a moment, you let the words hang, letting them settle into the small space between you.

you squeezed his hand gently. “i know, jeno… and thank you for saying it. it means more than you know.”

he looked at you, eyes searching, raw and open, shoulders slightly slumped, and for a moment, the noise of the school, the trophies, the games… faded. it was just the two of you, connected by past mistakes, shared love, and the small, enduring hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different moving forward.

“i feel like i have to ask too,” jeno said finally, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. he paused, taking a slow breath, the weight of the question pressing against him. “are you… together with jaemin?”

when he said it, it was like a door creaked open. the question had been there all along, dangling in the background, heavy and unspoken, and now it was out. jeno’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as though letting go of a burden he’d been carrying in silence for far too long.

you hummed softly, your fingers tracing the edge of your bottle, mind drifting to jaemin—the way he’d shown up when you needed support, the small gestures that made you feel seen, the easy laughter he brought to jun, to you, to your friends. “mhmm… well… we’re going out, i think? but we’re not official yet.”

“you think?” jeno repeated, voice almost teasing, but there was a tension under it, careful, observant.

you nodded, mind drifting over the quiet moments that had quietly become so important. the tiny margins jaemin would scribble notes in your book, the morning coffee runs he’d make when you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed on time, the way he always listened, patient and steady, never rushing, never pressuring… always kind. he’s different, you realised, the thought settling warmly in your chest. he makes me feel like i can finally breathe again.

“i mean… i think we’re something?” you added, glancing at jeno for a fraction of a second, noting the way his eyes studied you—looking through you, like he was reading you for truths you hadn’t even admitted yet.

jeno didn’t say anything, just tilted his head slightly, waiting.

“he’s been around,” you admitted softly, because that was the truth. he’d been there. consistently. quietly. reliably. like maybe this could be real.

“do you… like him?” jeno asked finally. there it was, the million dollar question.

you looked at him, really looked. jeno’s gaze wasn’t accusatory; it wasn’t angry or jealous. it was careful, gentle even, but searching—as if he could see every corner of your heart and was waiting for you to speak your truth aloud.

and there it was, undeniable. you had completely fallen for na jaemin.

and no, this wasn’t a rebound. it wasn’t a placeholder for old feelings or a desperate attempt to move on. because somewhere along the way, you had stopped wishing for jeno to come back. the longing that had haunted you for months had shifted into something quiet, stable, and resolute: you wanted jeno in jun’s life, yes—but not as a romantic partner.

“yeah…” you breathed out, and a small, genuine smile tugged at your lips. “yeah… i do like him.” your eyes lifted to meet jeno’s, open, honest.

jeno nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly, his jaw tight, a flicker of something passing through his eyes—acceptance, perhaps, tinged with a hint of bittersweet nostalgia. “he makes you nervous,” he said quietly, and you couldn’t help but nod, feeling the truth of it in your chest. “yeah… he does,” you admitted, warmth creeping into your voice.

and then jeno leaned slightly closer, voice dropping almost to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret with himself as much as with you. “and you… never ever get nervous around anyone unless they’ve won your heart.”

for a moment, your eyes met and held, and jeno’s lips curved just the slightest, faintest, almost sad smile. there was a hint of sourness there—yes, it was jaemin, not him—but he saw the joy lighting up your face, saw the way your chest lifted at the thought of him, and he let it be.

jeno could live with that. because this—your happiness—was enough.

"you should tell him."

jaemin on the other hand, was on his way to meet his mother.

jaemin spotted his mother waving from the corner table the moment he stepped into the small café. she was already halfway through her iced tea, looking up with that familiar warm smile.

“it’s been awhile since i’ve seen you jae,” she greeted, patting the seat across from her as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “i’ve been busy,” jaemin chuckles, loosening the sleeves of his shirt before reaching for the menu out of habit even though he already knew what he'd order.

her brows arched, that knowing glint in her eyes. “busy… or busy seeing someone?”

he glanced up, caught off guard but recovering quickly, lips twitching into a half-smile. “what makes you think that?”

“jisung told me.”

jaemin groaned, tipping his head back slightly. “of course he did.” he scrubbed a hand down his face. “remind me to tell jisung not to hand you my personal life like it’s a basket of free samples.”

“oh, you don’t need to remind him,” she said, lips curving. “i’m very persuasive.”

"dangerous woman." he shook his head with a soft laugh, glancing down at the table as if that could deflect her gaze.

as jaemin waved a hand to get the waiter’s attention, his mother took the chance to study him. months had passed since she’d last seen him in person, and even in those fleeting video calls, something had seemed different about him. but now, sitting across from her in the warm light of the café, it was obvious. there was a brightness to him. a looseness in his shoulders. like some invisible weight had been lifted, and he was finally learning how to stand without it.

“so?” she asked, leaning forward, elbows lightly braced on the table. “are you going to tell me about her?”

he stilled for a fraction of a second, his fingers idly rolling the paper straw wrapper into a tight coil. he’d always been careful with his mother—measured with his words, selective about what he let her see. but she’d never been one to push. instead, she waited him out, letting the silence do the heavy lifting.

“…are you guys together?” she finally asked.

“not quite,” he said, the words coming slower than usual.

“not quite?” she repeated, tilting her head. “what does that even mean?”

“we’re… here and there,” he admitted.

her brows furrowed slightly. “jaemin, that’s even less clear.”

“well she’s… someone really important to me,” jaemin began, choosing his words carefully. “but she’s also… been through a lot. divorce, raising her son on her own. and jun’s dad is still… in the picture, sort of. it’s not like i can just waltz in and make it official, you know?”

his mother studied him quietly, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “so you’re taking it slow.”

“more like… respecting her pace,” he admitted. “i want her to know i’m not here to take over or… replace anyone. i just want to be someone she can count on, no matter what happens.”

"is this person perhaps y/n?" she asked, casual as anything.

his head snapped up, eyes wide for half a second before he masked it with a dry scoff. “what—how do you know?”

she only smiled knowingly. “i’ve only ever seen that look on your face once. back in university, every time you talked about her.”

he froze, his fingers pausing mid-tap against the table.

“i thought after all these years you’d have moved on to someone else,” she continued gently. “but you never seemed interested enough to be with anyone long enough. i’ve only ever seen girls leave your place in the morning once or twice—and even then, you weren’t smiling like this.” she tilted her head, eyes softening. “now… you look like a little boy who doesn't know he's in love again.”

his lips parted slightly, caught between denying and admitting, but nothing came out.

the server arrived with their food, giving him a brief reprieve. they spoke about lighter things for a while—her garden, a nosy neighbor, a new bakery she wanted to try—but the shift in her gaze told him she wasn’t done.

when the plates were nearly empty, she set down her fork and said, “jae, can i ask you something?”

he hummed without looking up, still chasing the last piece of toast around his plate.

“do you think she’s the one?”

he thought about you then—about how different things might have been if he’d met you before jeno. would he have stood a real chance? would he have been the one you turned to first? he thought about how, no matter where he looked, his eyes always seemed to find you. but you… you never looked back the same way.

“…i hope so,” he said quietly.

her brows rose, but instead of smiling, her gaze softened with something heavier. “you know… i never moved on from your father.”

his jaw tightened. “don’t say that, mom.”

“it’s hard to forget your first love,” she went on, steady but with that faint, familiar ache in her voice. “it doesn’t matter how much time passes, or how many people you meet after. a part of you always remembers. always wonders. and sometimes… that part wins.”

“mom—”

“i’m not saying she’s your father,” she cut in quickly. “but if she’s still holding on to the man she loved before you—her child’s father—it’s going to be harder for her to give you all of herself. i just…” she hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. and for a moment, she wasn’t the strong, self-assured woman who’d raised him alone—she was someone who had been left behind, who knew the quiet devastation of loving someone who could never love her back in the same way. “i don’t want you to end up like me, wondering why you weren’t enough to make them stay.”

her words dug deeper than he expected. it wasn’t doubt, exactly—but it was a reminder. that love, no matter how real, wasn’t always enough if the other person’s heart was still anchored elsewhere.

still, jaemin lifted his gaze, his voice steady. “i’m not him. and she’s not you. this isn’t your story.”

she searched his face for a long moment, then gave a small, reluctant nod. but the worry in her eyes never really faded.

yet even as the conversation moved on, her words lingered in him like a shadow. it’s hard to ever forget your first love. and for the first time, he wondered—not if you could love him—but if you would ever be able to stop loving jeno.

and for the first time, he wondered—not if you could love him, but if you would ever truly be able to stop loving jeno.

your heart was pounding by the time you reached jaemin’s porch. it was ridiculous—you knew that—but the nerves still clawed at your chest like you were seventeen again, about to confess to your first crush.

you’d gone over this in your head a dozen times on the way here, each version ending in some perfectly timed, quietly romantic moment. you wanted it to be right. he deserved that much. after everything, he deserved right.

the box of his favourite fried chicken felt warm against your palm, tucked behind your back like a secret. your other hand smoothed over the hem of your shirt, then your hair, then your shirt again. you could already hear the faint chime of the doorbell echoing from inside when you pressed it.

you kept your eyes on the porch floorboards, counting the little scratches in the wood to steady yourself.

and then—footsteps. the door swung open.

you looked up, breath catching in anticipation—only to be met by a girl.

she was stunning in a way that knocked the wind out of you, dressed in what could only generously be called a dress. it was short, shimmering, clinging to her like it had been sewn to her body. she blinked at you, equally surprised, but not flustered.

your smile faltered, confusion spilling into your expression. “i—i’m sorry…?” you said, voice pitching up slightly. you glanced at the door plate just to check, but there it was: the right number, the right house.

you looked past her, scanning the driveway. jaemin’s car sat there like a fact you didn’t want to believe.

heat crept into your face. “i… i must’ve gotten the wrong address,” you mumbled, though your voice betrayed the lie. your body wanted to move, but your feet felt anchored to the porch.

“no worries,” the girl replied casually.

and then—his voice. “y/n?”

it was the sound you’d been replaying in your head all day, the one you’d wanted to hear when you finally told him everything. except now, it landed like a punch to the ribs.

you closed your eyes for a moment, your chest sinking. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

how foolish to think he’d been waiting for you. to think he’d want someone who’d spent months breaking in front of him over another man.

“oh—jaems.” your voice wavered as you turned, your gaze darting anywhere but his face. “i—uh, i’m sorry. jeno took jun out for dinner and i thought—uh—” you stumbled over the words, panic creeping up your throat. “i didn’t know you had plans.”

“y/n, stop. look at me,” he said, stepping forward, his hand reaching for yours.

you stepped back. “i’m sorry, i have to go.”

you didn’t wait for him to respond.

your legs finally obeyed, carrying you off the porch and down the walkway, each step feeling heavier than the last.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you, hear the faint sound of your name following you into the night.

the box of fried chicken was still clutched in your hand. and your heart—well, that stayed on his porch.

broken. again.

// to be continued

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