it was two years.

two years in which you learned to pretend that he was just part of the past. that everything you lived was just a mistake that went on for too long. a beautiful illusion, with the aesthetics of love, but without the structure to last. he was like that. too beautiful to be real. too intense not to destroy everything he passed by.

you tried to move on.

you moved. changed cities. started over. and with her in your arms — your daughter, your little girl — there was no more room for longing. not like before. not like the one that made you cry in the middle of the night for no reason. now you cried for others. for childhood fevers. for sleepless nights. for too much silence around a truth that no one else knew but you. because he never knew.

he never knew that he had left a life inside you. and you never thought of telling him either.

'cause the man you loved — the one who seemed like he would stay forever — disappeared when it hurt the most. and when it hurt, he didn't come back. so, even if he loved you, even if he said with that hurt look that it was all real... you couldn't trust him. you couldn't put a child in the middle of the mess that was him. so you hid it.

and you thought that would be forever. until today.

---

the doorbell rang in the late afternoon. you had just put the little one to sleep. the sun was breaking into pieces on the living room wall. you didn't even imagine. you thought it was the janitor, a delivery, anything.

but when you opened the door... was him.

choi standing there. wrinkled suit. his eyes deep, but attentive. as if he had been searching for that moment for a long time.

you froze. your hand still on the doorknob. your breath, trapped in your chest.

— "hi" — he said.

it took you a while to answer.

— "what are you doing here?"

he hesitated, but didn't look away.

— "I... just needed to see you."

the silence dragged between you like an old ghost.

— "it's been two years, choi." — your voice came out lower than you wanted, and the way his nickname still sounded so sweet in your voice.. made his heart clench with nostalgia.

he nodded. — "I know.. I know." — he exasperated. was nervous, it really had been 2 torturous years.

— "and i spent both of them trying to rebuild myself. trying to understand why i acted like an idiot with the girl i.. loved the most in my life."

you looked away. still hurt. not like before — but in a different way. quieter.

— "you can't just show up like that."

he took a step forward.

— "{{user}}, i know— but..."

that's when the sound cut through the air.

a baby's cry. weak, but clear. coming from inside the apartment. and the world stopped.

he froze. you didn't move. there was no way to hide it anymore.

— "who's that?" — he began, his voice trembling.

you swallowed hard. you felt everything you had hidden for two years stir inside your chest. you didn't answer. you didn't need to. the expression on your face said it all.

— "it's none of your business." — you answered, still trying to hide.

his eyes, tired before, were now shaking. he didn't know whether to cry or to go inside. he just ran his hand over his face, as if he couldn't believe it. as if he felt everything and couldn't name anything.

— "you had a child?" — his tone rose slightly along with his breathing. he had no idea if it was his, or worse, if it was another man's.

— "choi, go away." — your tone rose along with his. he stayed, even if it was hard. he asked again, already feeling the years of mental renewal slipping away.

— "is it mine?" — he tried to look inside your house, but you blocked him with the door.