coy:) @cryingoveryunho - Tumblr Blog

Jul 17

TIMBER (lee chanyoung) ch. 7

🍃 summary: after one reckless mistake too many, your parents send you away for the summer in hopes that a few months in the countryside with your grandmother might finally straighten you out. you fully intend to count down the days until you’re free again…right up until a bug loving little boy and his father begin making the mountains feel a little more like home.

❀ pairing: single dad!anton x f!reader ❀ genre: single parent au, slow burn, rich kid au, found family ❀ word count: 8.3k

⟶ chapter warnings: friendship conflict, slut-shaming, alcohol/drug references, sexual content, slight angst. let me know if anything is missing!

🌱a/n: chapter 8 will be released on wednesday of next week bc of my flight! the remaining chapters will be posted every friday at 12pm est unless stated otherwise.

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“Bye, I’ll be back later!” You call toward the empty hallway out of habit before remembering your grandmother left nearly an hour ago to have lunch with some of the women from her country club.

You pause in front of the foyer mirror, adjusting the thin straps of your top and smooth a hand over your stomach before reaching down for the tote bag resting by your feet. It’s heavier than it looks, stuffed with colored markers, glue sticks, construction paper, printed photographs and decorative supplies.

It’s been a week since the accident and Minyoung has adjusted to the bright green cast better than anyone expected. He hates needing assistance more than he hates the actual injury, growing pouty whenever someone reaches for a zipper, shoelace or cup before he has the chance to struggle with it himself.

During the first few days, both you and Anton kept stepping in automatically, only to be met with an increasingly irritated, “I can do it.” until the two of you learned to leave him alone. Now you stand nearby and pretend not to watch while he wrestles with whatever task he’s set his focus on, waiting until he quietly asks for help before interfering.

Writing with his left hand has been the hardest adjustment. His letters slant into each other, his numbers come out backwards and he presses down so hard that the pencil occasionally tears through the paper but he refuses to let Anton complete any of his schoolwork for him. Most evenings now, you sit at the kitchen table beside him and demonstrate each letter while he copies it.

His upcoming science fair has become a different source of frustration. Yebin originally volunteered to help with the project because she’s a biologist and Minyoung considers her to be the best scientist ever but she still hasn’t forgiven herself for what happened. She cries almost every time she sees his little cast, apologizing until even Minyoung has started getting annoyed on her behalf because he’s told her repeatedly that he doesn’t blame her.

Last night, he interrupted your usual nightly facetime with Anton by climbing into his father’s lap and stole the phone to ask if you could help instead. You agreed immediately, which earned you an excited gasp and the declaration that today would officially be another Minyoung and noona day. Anton had tried to remind him that his father was also perfectly capable of helping with a rhinoceros beetle project but Minyoung dismissed the offer without hesitation. Apparently Anton could provide snacks but he wasn’t allowed to touch a thing regarding his project.

You promised you would arrive early enough that the two of you could finish before lunch, which is why you’re already slipping your shoes on and reaching for the door. When you pull it open you stop dead in your tracks.

Maya stands on the porch with a white bakery box balanced in both hands while Harvey has one fist raised, clearly a second away from knocking. For a long moment, none of you says anything. Harvey’s hand drops awkwardly to her side and she gives you a small uncertain smile. “...Surprise?”

You look between them, your expression remaining flat despite the sudden confusion twisting through you. “Yeah…definitely a surprise. What are you doing here?” You ask.

Maya lifts the box as if the pastries explain why your two best friends have appeared outside your grandmother’s house without warning. “We flew all the way here. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” She jokes.

You realize then you haven’t smiled once. The last time the three of you spoke, you slammed your laptop shut while Maya was still trying to justify why she’d reduced your feelings for Anton to some strange kink. Neither of them called afterward and you were too hurt to be the first one to reach out, though if you’re being honest, the fight had started slipping from your mind until now.

You’ve been too busy popping in and out of Anton’s house, learning how to help Minyoung scratch his arm under the cast and listening to the two of them bicker over whether a broken arm exempted him from bedtime. Still, these are Maya and Harvey. They’ve been your best friends for years, through bad breakups, through public scandals, family arguments and mornings when none of you could remember how the night before ended. The sight of them standing on the porch pulls at something beneath the lingering anger until despite yourself, the corner of your mouth lifts. “I am happy,” you admit. “I’m also confused.”

Harvey clears her throat and glances past you into the house. “Can we come in?”

Your grip shifts around the strap of your tote. For a moment, you consider telling them you’re already late but the apology you’ve been waiting for is standing directly in front of you holding pastries. You step aside reluctantly and let them enter. The three of you settle in the living room, Maya placing the box on the coffee table while Harvey chooses the armchair across from the couch. You sit near the end cushion with your tote still looped over one shoulder.

Maya looks at you for a few seconds before exhaling. “I’m sorry. What I said the last time we spoke wasn’t fair.”

Harvey nods quickly. “We were overly harsh.”

“Yeah, you were.” You say, not offering them an easier way out.

Maya’s mouth presses into a thin line but she doesn’t argue. Instead she nudges the box toward you. “Peace offering?”

You stare at it before letting out a dramatic sigh and finally slipping the tote from your shoulder. “You know I’ve always loved a good bribe.”

The tension breaks enough for all three of you to smile. Maya opens the box and immediately starts telling you everything you missed in Greece: the villa’s plumbing disaster, the yacht captain Maya flirted with for three days before finding out he was married, the beach club where Harvey disappeared with a French tourist.

They complain about how strange it felt doing everything without you, how they kept seeing things you would’ve liked. For five minutes, it feels normal again. You laugh at Maya’s recount of her latest tryst and steal a glazed donut, making a mental note to save the strawberry-frosted one for Minyoung.

Eventually Harvey brushes powdered sugar from her jeans and stands. “We should probably get going if we want to miss traffic.”

You rise too, surprised by how short the visit has been. “Leaving already?”

Maya laughs and closes the donut box. “Girl, what? You’re coming with us.”

Your head tilts. “Coming where?”

“We got tickets to an exclusive club in Seoul tonight,” Harvey says, already checking something on her phone. “We figured we could properly talk things out over drinks and early 2000’s throwbacks. There’s a hotel room booked too.”

Your face falls before you can hide it. “Oh…I can’t.”

Both of them look up. “I promised Minyoung I’d help with his project,” you explain, lifting your tote slightly. “It’s about rhinoceros beetles, he’s really excited.”

Maya stares at you as if she’s waiting for the punchline. When none comes, she lets out a short laugh. “Is that a joke?”

“No.”

She raises a brow. “You’d rather spend your Saturday gluing bug facts onto a poster board than come into the city with us?”

You adjust the strap over your shoulder again and nod. “I promised him.”

The thought of not showing up leaves an uncomfortable weight in your chest. Minyoung would be disappointed, even if he tried to pretend he understood for your sake and disappointing him would mean disappointing Anton too. Anton would never say it that way, he would probably insist the project could wait and tell you to enjoy your friends but you know how much it meant to him that you agreed without hesitation.

You know how carefully he’s been navigating letting Minyoung rely on you and fearing that reliance might one day become too much.

Maya’s expression changes as she watches you. The amusement disappears first, followed by whatever warmth remained from the apology. “When are you going to wake up?”

Harvey closes her eyes briefly, already recognizing where this is going. “Maya.”

“No, because we flew here to talk sense into her and she’s standing here acting like this is normal!” Maya closes the donut box harder than necessary and turns fully toward you. “He’s twenty-three with a seven year old son, ____. Wake up!”

Your defenses rise just as fast. “Maya, don’t.”

“You like cotton-candy cosmopolitans at ten in the morning. You can’t spend ten minutes around your own nieces without one of them crying. You can barely take care of yourself, you don’t even fucking drive and now you’re rearranging your whole life around some man and his kid!"

She gestures toward the tote where some supplies are spilling out from how packed it is on your shoulder. “His mother is back. You told us that yourself. What do you think happens when Minyoung decides he wants his parents together and starts parent trapping them every chance he gets? What happens when Anton realizes having his actual family back is easier than trying to fit you into it? Please come to your senses!”

You scoff, beyond offended. “Why can’t you just accept that this is what I want? I’m happy, Maya!”

“He has a kid, ____!”

The words ring through the living room. For one second, nobody moves. Maya’s chest rises and falls too quickly before she drags both hands over her face, trying and failing to pull herself back under control. When she speaks again, her voice is softer but no less harsh. “He has a kid who needs responsible adults in his life. I’m not saying this to be a bitch but that isn’t you.”

It’s almost impressive how Maya manages to go for the jugular each time. Harvey shifts beside her, uncomfortable but not disagreeing, which somehow hurts worse.

“At this point Wonbin is a better option,” Maya adds desperately, grasping for whatever comparison might finally make you listen. “He doesn’t have much going for him but at least he isn’t somebody’s father. You’ve been seeing him for three years anyway, why not just make it official?”

You recoil so visibly that Harvey winces. “Are you hearing yourself? Wonbin and I had a friends with benefits arrangement that served its purpose. It’s over. He wouldn’t make a decent boyfriend because all he ever cares about is getting his dick wet and even when we agreed to be exclusive so neither of us caught anything he still slept with other girls!”

You look between them in disbelief, your voice climbing despite your effort to control it. “You would rather I be with a guy who didn’t respect me enough to keep one basic agreement than Anton, who has never done anything to intentionally hurt me and has helped me become a better person, simply because Anton has a child?”

Harvey picks at the stitching of your grandmother's couch. “Why are you fighting so hard for this? You don’t even like kids.”

You pause. You’ve never said you hate children, you’ve just never known what to do with them. You don’t coo at babies in restaurants or imagine names for children you might have someday. Minyoung is the exception. “I don’t hate kids—”

“Let me guess,” Maya cuts in bitterly. “Minyoung is different? Fuck, ____, you’ve let this man turn you into a Stepford wife.”

You swear you could hear a pin drop after that.

The words sit between the three of you, ugly enough that even Maya looks briefly startled by them but nobody backs down. There’s no immediate apology, no attempt from Harvey to correct her. Your eyes burn and you hate them for making you want to cry, hate yourself more for the fact that some part of you still wishes they would stop and hold you instead.

“I don’t shame either of you for sleeping with five different guys in a week. I don’t make you feel like selfish bitches for choosing things that make you happy. I don’t lecture you every time you get so drunk you can’t remember who carried you home or tell you you’re wasting your lives because you don’t want the things I want. Why can’t you just support me?”

Neither of them answers. Harvey’s face softens but it isn’t enough. You can feel tears gathering and try to blink them away, furious that you have to beg your closest friends for the bare minimum of kindness. “Even if you’re right,” you continue, your voice wavering despite your best effort, “even if this is a mistake and one day Anton wakes up and decides he wants some complete family with Jia, why can’t you just smile and say you’re happy for me? Why can’t you say you hope it works out? Lie to me! That would hurt less than this.”

Maya looks devastated but she still shakes her head. “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now. This isn’t you.”

You stare at her for a long moment and realize that she genuinely believes it. She thinks Anton took the friend she knew and replaced her, she thinks the woman standing before her is some temporary replacement Anton created for some fantasy. She thinks the ‘real’ version of you is still waiting beneath all this, desperate to be dragged back to Stanford, handed a drink and reminded of the fun you used to have.

“I think this is the first time I’ve actually been me.”

For two months, no one here has asked you to be Stanford’s Princess. Nobody has introduced you as the disappointing daughter of one of America’s wealthiest CEOs. Nobody looks ot you to be the girl splashed across magazines or reduces you to the girl Wonbin calls whenever he’s bored and high enough to feel lonely. In the mountains of Korea, you are simply yourself.

The girl who enjoys bug hunts with a seven-year-old even despite hating touching the bugs. The girl who looks forward to garden days, quiet dinners and late-night calls with a single father even when neither of you has anything left to say. The girl who learned that she likes being needed when the people needing her don’t treat her as property. You came here convinced you had been exiled from your real life, only to find something in these mountains that feels more like home than anything you left behind.

Harvey’s voice is barely audible when she says, “You never told us that.”

You shrug, one tear finally slipping free despite your effort to hold it back. “You guys enjoyed the party girl as much as the media did.”

The words hit them both. Maya looks like you’ve slapped her and Harvey drops her gaze to the floor but neither of them has an answer that could fix what has already been said. You walk toward the front door and pull it open, wiping the tear from your cheek with the heel of your hand before turning back to them.

“Get out.”

Harvey looks up sharply. “You’re kicking us out?”

You nod calmly, though you feel anything but calm. “I have a seven-year-old waiting for me to glue bug facts on to a poster board, so yes. You can go.”

Maya reaches for you with shaking hands. “____—”

“Don’t come back until you’re ready to properly apologize and accept that this is what I want.” You step aside, leaving the doorway open for them. “You don’t have to understand it but you don’t get to keep making me feel ashamed for it.”

Neither of them argues. Harvey walks out first, her face drawn tight with hurt and Maya follows. At the end of the porch she looks back like she expects you to change your mind but you don’t. You close the door before either of them reaches their car, lean against it for one unsteady breath and then force yourself upright. Your tote is still waiting near the couch, Minyoung’s rhinoceros beetle supplies tucked safely inside. You pick it up, wipe beneath your eyes one final time and leave through the same door, making the short walk toward Anton’s house once you’ve made sure Maya and Harvey have left.

By the time you reach Anton’s house, the anger that carried you through your short walk has already started to burn itself out. Your eyes still sting, your throat feels tight and every few steps Maya’s words float around your head and make you wish you had said something crueler before throwing them out.

You barely make it halfway up the walkway before the front door opens and Anton steps outside, one hand still wrapped around the doorknob. He smiles at first, clearly ready to tease you about the oversized tote dragging down your shoulder but the expression disappears almost immediately once he gets a proper look at your face.

His brows pull together as his eyes move over you, lingering on the redness around your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping down from the porch. “Everything okay?” You try to nod and tell him you’re fine, that you got something in your eye but your chin wobbles before you can form the lie and Anton’s face falls. He doesn’t bombard you with questions or make you explain yourself on the walkway. He only opens his arms.

You walk straight into him and bury your face against his chest, gripping the back of his shirt while his arms close securely around you. One hand settles between your shoulder blades and begins rubbing slowly up and down your back while the other rests at the back of your head, holding you close. Anton presses a kiss against your forehead and lets you cry quietly into him, never commenting on the way your breathing stutters or the tears dampening his shirt. He only murmurs that you’re okay and that he’s got you.

When you finally pull back, embarrassed by how quickly you fell apart, Anton lifts one hand and wipes beneath your eye with his thumb before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?” You glance toward his home automatically, already imagining Minyoung emerging from somewhere to ask why you’re crying but Anton follows your gaze and reassures you that he’s still asleep. “He still hasn’t woken up yet. No interruptions if you want to talk.” He says, giving you a small smile.

You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand and nod, allowing him to take the tote from your shoulder before he intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you inside.

Anton places the tote near the coffee table and sits beside you on the couch and opens one arm so you can tuck yourself into his side. You curl against him, your knees drawn slightly inward while his hand resumes those slow, absentminded circles against your upper arm. He doesn’t rush you to speak or fill the silence. He simply waits, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head while you collect your thoughts and try to decide where the story even begins.

“It started last week…maybe two weeks ago at this point.” you say eventually, struggling to remember how much time has actually passed. “After Jia showed up.”

Anton’s hand slows but doesn’t stop and you tell him everything from there: calling Maya and Harvey because you had been hurt and embarrassed after he asked you to leave, Maya accusing you of living in some domestic fantasy, Harvey saying you hadn’t changed enough for a life involving him and Minyoung and the way the argument ended with your closest friends acting as though your feelings were so absurd they had to be some kink.

You explain how none of you reached out afterward and how they appeared at your grandmother’s house today with donuts and an apology that lasted less than ten minutes before turning into another attempt to drag you back into the life they believed suited you better. You tell him about the club, even Wonbin and how Maya insisted he was somehow the safer option simply because he didn’t have a child. By the time you repeat the Stepford wife comment, Anton’s jaw has tightened and his thumb has stopped moving altogether.

When you finish, Anton looks down at you for a moment before carefully asking, “Do you want me to just listen or do you want my honest opinion?”

You hesitate before answering, “Both, I guess.”

Anton nods and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Then first, what they said was mean. Even if they’re scared for you, they don't have the right to make you feel stupid or ashamed. Especially not after you already told them it hurt.”

Some of the tension leaves your body at finally being validated and you rest your cheek more fully against his chest while he continues. “I also don’t think they flew across the world because they don’t care about you. The way they handled it was awful but it sounds like they’re scared because they don’t understand what changed or when it happened. They’re looking at your life from the outside and all they see is their friend suddenly rearranging her plans around a man with a kid and a complicated ex.”

You lift your head immediately, offense flaring again. “Anton, they were not just concerned. Maya called me a Stepford wife and practically said I’m too irresponsible to be around Minyoung.”

Anton nods rather than arguing. “I know and I’m not defending that. They owe you a real apology.” He brushes a stray tear away from your damp cheek before adding, “I’m saying I understand why they have questions.”

You stare at him still angry but Anton only raises his brows slightly. “Think about it, angel. My parents had questions too when Minyoung first started talking about you all the time. They like you but they wondered whether you understood what being close to him could eventually mean.”

Your shoulders fall as you take in his words and Anton gives you a faint smile. “They weren’t nearly as blunt as your friends but they had comments. Sohee did too. Everyone who cares about either of us has probably wondered whether our lives actually fit together.”

You sit with that for some time, turning his words over. The longer you think about it, the harder it becomes to stay mad because you know Maya and Harvey. They've been there through every public humiliation, every headline, every drunken phone call at three in the morning. It isn't fair to pretend they only loved the version of you that stumbled out of clubs at sunrise. They had been wrong in how they spoke to you but Anton is right about one thing: they didn't fly all this way because they stopped caring. Their fear does not excuse their cruelty but it does give you perspective. “I still think they were horrible,” you mutter after a while.

Anton’s mouth twitches. “They were.”

You look up at him. “And they owe me an apology.”

He nods. “A big one.”

The immediate agreement pulls the smallest laugh from you and Anton smiles, squeezing your shoulder again. “But if you know you’re happy, you don’t have to feel guilty because the people who love you need time to catch up. You’re allowed to change. You’re allowed to want something they never imagined for you.”

Your gaze drops to his mouth before you can stop it. It’s been far too long since the two of you shared a kiss, especially considering every moment alone since then has involved Minyoung planted firmly between the two of you.

Anton catches you staring and one corner of his mouth lifts. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl.”

Heat creeps up your neck at being caught but rather than looking away you let your gaze remain exactly where it is. “I know where your eyes are,” you say shifting closer until your knee presses against his thigh. “I’m just more interested in something else.”

Anton’s eyebrows rise, clearly amused by how quickly your mood has changed and his hand that isn’t on your shoulder rises to grip your chin. “Oh? Really?”

You nod and bite down on your bottom lip. “It’s been a week.”

He laughs softly through his nose and tilts your face upward. “You’ve been counting?” You open your mouth to deny it but Anton kisses you before you get the chance.

The kiss is soft at first, cautious after seeing you cry but you lean into him and fist one hand in the front of his shirt, making it clear you do not need him to handle you delicately. Anton responds immediately, his hand sliding from your chin to the side of your neck as he kisses you deeper. You turn further into him until your body is half draped across his, your free hand slipping into his hair while his arm tightens around your waist.

You part your lips slightly, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours and a quiet whimper escapes your throat, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Anton’s grip tightens, one hand sliding down to your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. You barely register the quiet creak from upstairs until Anton pauses, his lips still brushing yours as he tilts his head toward the staircase. “Did you hear that?” You don’t get the chance to answer before Minyoung’s bedroom door opens and small footsteps begin pounding down the hallway.

The two of you spring apart so quickly you nearly slide off the couch. Anton drags one hand over his mouth while you smooth down your top and try to slow your breathing before Minyoung appears at the bottom of the staircase with unruly bedhead, his green cast held protectively against his chest.

The second he sees you, his whole face lights up. “Noona!” he squeals, racing across the living room before either of you can warn him not to run. He launches himself onto the couch and directly into your arms, forcing himself into the small space between you and Anton.

You laugh and steady him while Anton watches his son wedge himself firmly between the two of you with disbelief. “Seriously?” he asks. Minyoung ignores him, wrapping his good arm around your waist and cuddling close.

Anton reaches around him in an attempt to reclaim your hand only for Minyoung to smack it away and turn toward his father with a deep frown. “Daddy, stop. She’s mine.”

Anton looks down at his hand and then back at Minyoung, pressing his hand dramatically against his chest. “Ow! That really hurt my feelings.”

Minyoung turns to look at him for a moment, visibly torn between sympathy and his commitment to keeping you for himself, before letting out a long sigh and patting Anton’s thigh. “It’s Minyoung and noona day. Daddy can play with Noona later.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the phrasing while Anton looks over Minyoung’s head at you with one eyebrow raised smugly. Minyoung is already turning back toward you, all traces of sleep gone as he asks whether you brought the printed beetle pictures and the neon markers.

You assure him that everything is in the tote and he gasps excitedly before sliding off the couch and grabbing your hand. “Ready?” he asks. You nod and let him begin tugging you toward the hallway but Minyoung stops to glance back at Anton. “Daddy, can you make breakfast?”

Anton leans back against the couch and crosses his arms, pretending to consider whether either of you deserves to be fed after the disrespect he has endured in his own home. Minyoung waits expectantly, still holding your hand until Anton finally sighs and pushes himself to his feet. “Of course I can. Are waffles okay?” Minyoung nods happily and thanks him before pulling you toward the small craft room Anton created for him, already talking rapidly about where each section of the poster should go.

Anton watches the two of you disappear down the hallway before shaking his head and heading toward the kitchen, still smiling despite being demoted to food duty.

Thirty minutes later, Anton appears in the doorway carrying a tray with two plates stacked with waffles, berries and scrambled eggs, along with a glass of orange juice for you and one of Minyoung’s spill-proof cups tucked awkwardly beneath his arm. Minyoung perks up immediately at the smell of food, his focus already shifting.

Anton sets the plates down on the small craft table and reminds both of you not to get syrup anywhere near the project. You assure him that you two are being extremely cautious. He hums skeptically before crouching to press a kiss to the top of Minyoung’s head then brushes one against your temple while Minyoung isn’t looking. “I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he says, lingering in the doorway.

Minyoung waves him away with his casted hand. “We have everything.” Anton looks at you for confirmation and you lift your fork in a small salute before he finally leaves, shaking his head as he heads toward the room at the end of the hall.

While the two of you eat, Minyoung explains to you how he wants to break up his project. The left side will be the rhinoceros beetle life cycle, the middle will explain what they eat and where they live and the right side will be reserved for interesting facts that other people might not know.

You watch as Minyoung works the scissors with his left hand, tongue poking slightly from the corner of his mouth with concentration. You keep your hands to yourself and wait until he slides the paper in your direction, finally asking for help.

By the time Anton returns to collect the plates, Minyoung has syrup on one cheek and paper letters stuck to the sleeve of his pj's. Anton takes in the scene with visible amusement before gathering the dishes. “You sure you don’t need another set of hands? I can help glue while you two cut.” He asks.

Minyoung shakes his head adamantly. “No. Daddy can help us clean when we finish.”

Anton closes his eyes briefly like he’s summoning patience. “Of course I csn.” He says before checking if we need anything else before he leaves.

Minyoung watches him leave, waiting until Anton has disappeared down the hallway before whispering, “Daddy is dramatic.”

You bite back a laugh and lower your voice to match his. “Very.”

The two of you settle back into work once the dishes are gone, the room filling with the sounds of markers and the occasional snip of scissors. Minyoung colors one of the beetle illustrations while you arrange the cut-out letters across the poster. Every few minutes he asks for your opinion on a color or whether a fact sounds interesting enough.

The conversation drifts naturally from beetles to school then to Yuna, who apparently wore her hair in two braids yesterday and shared her mango gummies with him during snack time. Minyoung tries to sound casual while telling you this but the pink creeping across his cheeks betrays him.

You tease him until he hides his face behind his cast and tells you to stop. Once he recovers, he goes back to shading the beetle’s shell and says, “Yebin-noona brings uncle Sohee snacks too.”

You hum, pressing one of the printed labels onto the poster. “That’s because she’s a cool girlfriend.”

Minyoung’s marker slows. “Girlfriend?”

You glance up and find him frowning at his poster. “Mhm.”

“What’s a girlfriend?”

You pause, realizing you’ve never actually had to explain something like that before. “Um…” You tap the glue stick against your chin for a second. “You know how you’re my favorite little bug?”

He nods. “Well…a girlfriend is kind of like your favorite person.”

He considers it for a second. “Like daddy?”

You smile. “Kinda. Somebody you really like spending time with. You get excited when you see them, you miss them when they’re gone, you want to make them happy…stuff like that.”

Minyoung nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with the explanation before another thought occurs to him. “So uncle Sohee is Yebin-noona’s favorite person?”

“Probably.”

“Is Yebin-noona uncle Sohee’s favorite person?” He asks.

You laugh. “I think she’d be very upset if she wasn’t.”

He nods to himself and continues coloring for another few seconds before asking, “Do girlfriends stay forever?”

The question catches you off guard enough that your glue stick pauses above the paper. You look over at him but Minyoung keeps his eyes lowered, filling in the same small section of the beetle’s wing even though it is already fully colored. “Sometimes, not always. Why?” You answer carefully.

He shrugs one shoulder, still refusing to look at you. “Yebin-noona is always with uncle Sohee.”

You nod. “That’s true.”

“And she comes to birthdays and family stuff.” He adds.

You press the label into place slowly, beginning to understand where this is going but deciding not to rush him. “She does.”

Minyoung finally glances up through his glasses. “Are you daddy’s girlfriend?”

For a second you only stare at him. The answer isn’t as straightforward as you’d like. You like him, you know he likes you, you’ve kissed but nothing has been made official. You set the glue stick down and turn toward him more fully. “No, bug. Your dad and I are just friends.” You hesitate before adding, “Why do you ask?”

Minyoung gives another small shrug and returns to his coloring. “I like having you here.”

The softness in his voice makes you want to give him anything he wants. You watch him carefully outline one of the beetle’s legs. After a moment he says, “maybe if you date daddy, you can stay forever like Yebin-noona and uncle Sohee.”

You look down at the poster because looking directly at him makes your heart stutter at the fact that he’s just offered you a permanent position in his life. “Is that what you want?” you ask quietly.

Minyoung looks up and smiles before nodding. “Yeah!”

You let out a breathy laugh and reach over to smooth down a corner of construction paper that has begun to lift off the board. “What if your daddy doesn’t want me to be his girlfriend?”

That makes Minyoung stop coloring entirely. His brows knit together as he considers the possibility. For several seconds he says nothing then he straightens his back and puffs out his chest. “Then I’ll be your boyfriend!”

The confidence in his answer pulls a genuine laugh from you, loud enough that Minyoung immediately begins smiling too. You lean closer and lower your voice. “Oh, really? Me or Yuna?”

His entire face changes. The confidence disappears quickly and is replaced by a deep blush that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Minyoung looks down at the marker in his hand and fidgets with the cap. “Sorry, Noona,” he says after a long, painful pause. “Yuna.”

You laugh even harder, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “I understand, bug. I won’t stand in the way of true love.”

Minyoung looks relieved by your forgiveness and goes back to coloring. “Daddy likes you anyway.”

Your laughter fades into a softer smile. “You think so?”

He nods his head so hard you worry for his brain. “He always smiles when you're here and he fixes his hair before you come over. He’s just shy. Like me.”

You glance toward the hallway leading to Anton’s office, suddenly picturing him standing in front of a mirror fixing his hair before opening the door for you and have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing too obvious. “Maybe,” you concede.

Minyoung nods, satisfied that the matter has been settled and returns to his project. The two of you work for another hour, cutting, gluing and rearranging until the board finally looks like something he can proudly present. He insists on signing both of your names in the bottom corner because you helped. By the time you finish, he’s a yawning mess slump against your shoulder.

You clean up as much as you can with Minyoung leaning against you, returning markers to their case and stacking the remaining construction paper while he argues that he’s not tired. You eventually convince him to let you take him upstairs, promising the project will still be waiting when he wakes up.

He nods without much resistance and lets you carry him to his bedroom. Once he’s beneath the covers, you adjust the pillow beneath his cast and remove his glasses, placing them safely on the nightstand. Minyoung mumbles something about showing Anton the finished beetle facts later then curls onto his side and falls asleep before you can properly answer.

You stay kneeling beside his bed for a little, watching him sleep and make sure he’s truly comfortable before quietly slipping out of the room. You head back downstairs towards Anton’s office now that the house his quieter with Minyoung sleeping. You find Anton bent over his desk with several large sheets of paper spread across the surface filled with neat lines, shaded garden plans and handwritten measurements. Anton has one sleeve pushed up to his elbow and a pencil tucked behind his ear while another moves across the page in his hand, his attention is so fixed that he doesn’t notice you standing there.

For a few seconds, you simply watch him work, taking in the concentration on his face and the small furrow between his brows before finally tapping your knuckles against the doorframe.

Anton looks up immediately, surprise fading into a smile when he sees you. “Finished already?”

You lean one shoulder against the frame. “Project manager passed out from exhaustion.”

He laughs softly and sets the pencil down. “Did you at least finish?”

You hum. “Barely. Just gotta proof read a few more sections and paste them on the board.”

Anton’s smile widens as he leans back in his chair and looks you over. “Come here.”

You push away from the doorframe and cross the room, expecting Anton to simply make space for you beside his desk. Instead, the second you reach him one hand circles your wrist while the other settles against your waist and he tugs you forward until you stumble into him.

You let out a startled laugh as he guides you into his lap, wrapping one arm securely around your middle. The office chair creaks beneath the added weight but Anton only shifts until you are sitting comfortably, his left hand beginning slow circles against your hip while you reach up to remove the pencil tucked behind his ear.

“You know there was an empty chair right there,” you point out, gesturing toward the other side of the desk. Anton glances toward it briefly before returning his attention to you.

“Too far.” He says simply causing you to blush. You busy yourself by placing the pencil on his desk before turning back and playing with the edge of his collar between your fingers.

Anton lets you play with the fabric for a few seconds before his free hand rises to catch yours, threading his fingers loosely through them without pulling your hand away from him. “So what did you two talk about while working?” he asks, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

You smile and continue rubbing the soft material of his collar between your fingertips. “Your son asked me a very serious question.”

Anton’s brows lift in interest and you explain how the conversation moved from Yuna’s braids and mango gummies to Sohee bringing Yebin snacks then somehow to the meaning of girlfriends and whether they stayed forever.

Anton’s expression changes slowly as he listens, amusement fading into something more thoughtful when you tell him Minyoung asked if you were his girlfriend.

“What did you say?” he asks.

You look down to where your fingers are tangled with his and answer honestly. “I told him we’re friends. I didn’t really know what else to call this.”

Anton nods once, giving nothing away so you continue before the silence can become uncomfortable. “He said he likes having me here and that maybe if I dated you…I could stay forever like Yebin and Sohee.”

His hand goes still at your waist and when you finally lift your eyes, Anton is watching you with an expression you can’t read. “He said that?”

You nod and tell him the rest, how Minyoung offered to become your boyfriend if Anton refused and then immediately abandoned you for Yuna when forced to choose. Anton laughs hard and tips his head back against the chair. “At least he was honest,” Anton says.

“Brutally.” You pretend to look wounded and Anton squeezes your fingers in sympathy.

His smile falls a bit after a moment, some seriousness coming back to his features. “Do you want to?”

The question catches you off guard and your hand stops moving against his collar. “Want to what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows.

Anton’s gaze stays on your face as his thumb resumes its gentle path over the side of your hip. “Stay.”

Your eyes drift toward the windows overlooking his garden. You think of Minyoung signing your name to the bottom of his project, of library days and bedtime calls and how naturally you've started leaving things here without realizing it. You think of Anton fixing his hair before you arrive and the way he makes you feel safe and wanted.

The answer should be easy because yes, you want to stay. You want it so much that the thought frightens you but Maya and Harvey’s words still echo in the back of your head. You lower your gaze to your joined hands. “I still have school,” you say instead, hating the cop out. “I have to go back to Stanford at the end of August and finish my last year. I can’t just disappear and pretend none of that exists.”

Anton nods immediately. “Of course. I’d never ask you to give that up.” You look up at his face and see that there’s no disappointment on his face. He only grips your fingers more securely and adds, “You should finish. You’ve worked too hard not to.”

The two of you don’t speak about the end of August. Neither of you knows what happens after that, whether the feelings growing between you can survive 5,735 miles or whether Minyoung can understand why someone he’s asked to stay forever still has to leave. Anton doesn’t push for an answer and you’re grateful because you don’t have one to offer.

The silence stretches until it begins to feel uncomfortable so you search for something easier to talk about. “You know, your son's asleep and I'm in your lap yet you haven’t made a single move. I’m beginning to think you’ve lost interest.”

His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back as he leans closer, his breath warming your mouth before he answers. “You know that isn’t true.”

You smirk. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Anton smirks in response and leans in to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth right away and his hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms. You drag your right arm over his chest and your left hand slips into the hair at the nape of his neck. Anton exhales sharply when you tug, his lips leaving yours only long enough to trail along your jaw. You shift again, trying to get closer despite there being nowhere left to go.

Anton’s hands tighten at your waist before he stands with you still held against him. You gasp and cling to his shoulders, though he only moves far enough to settle you onto the edge of his desk. Several sketches crumple beneath you and you glance down, momentarily horrified knowing how much work goes into sketching. “Anton, your work–” He looks at the sheets trapped beneath your thighs then at you and sweeps the remaining plans to the other side of the desk without hesitation.

“I can redraw them.” The answer sends another wave of desire through you. His right hand knocks your knees apart and he steps between them and kisses you again, right hand braced beside your hip while the other slides slowly up your thigh. You pull away and lean back against your palms, letting your head tip when his mouth travels down your neck and pauses just below your ear. “You’re very distracting,” he murmurs against your skin.

“You told me to come here,” you remind him breathlessly. Anton smiles against your throat before lowering himself, his lips pressing along your collarbone, then down over the exposed skin above your top.

“So pretty,” He whispers against your chest. You shiver, overly sensitive. Anton buries his face between your breasts, letting your breasts encompass his face as he kisses along your sternum, just above the hem of your bra.

“A-Anton.” you moan.

“Mhm…what do you need, pretty girl?” Anton asks. You blink, your mind short circuiting before you feel his fingers gently trail along your sides and over your back. Instead of responding, you arch your back letting him fumble around with your bra clasp for a few moments before he unhooks it and tosses it to the floor.

You gasp as he slips his hands under your shirt and rubs his thumbs over your nipples. He tugs yours shirt up exposing your breast before leaning his head down to hover over your left nipple. Your breath stutters at the warmth as he opens his mouth to ask. “This okay?”

You nod eagerly, “Y-yeah.”

He shifts himself slightly as he kisses your breast, sucking and biting. You whimper when his tongue pokes and prods your sensitive nipple, tongue swirling against the hardened bud. Your breath catches when he pulls away and drops to his knees in front of you. His hands slide from your breasts to settle against the outside of your thighs and his eyes lift to yours, giving you every opportunity to stop him.

You don’t. Instead, your fingers slide into his hair as he presses a kiss to the inside of one knee then another slightly higher. Your heartbeat stutters with every inch he gets closer, the sight of him between your legs far more overwhelming than you expected.

Anton’s mouth moves slowly along your thigh, unhurried and deliberate, while your grip tightens around the ends of his hair as he gets closer to your core. You barely notice the first ring of the doorbell. Neither of you moves, both silently agreeing that whoever it is can leave whatever they brought and go.

The bell rings a second time, longer and more insistent. “Ignore it,” you whisper, tugging lightly at his hair when he pauses.

Anton glances toward the office door before pressing another kiss higher along your thigh as though he’s decided to take your advice. “Trying to,” he murmurs, his voice close enough to send a shiver through you. The bell sounds for a third time and is followed by several hard knocks against the front door. Anton exhales against your skin and rests his forehead briefly against your leg in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

You groan and lean farther back on your hands. “Hurry up.”

He rises reluctantly, smoothing both hands over your thighs before leaning in to steal one last kiss. “Don’t move!”

You hum in agreement and watch him leave the office, expecting him to return before you have enough time to recover from the interruption.

A minute passes, then another. You straighten your top and look around his office, listening for Anton’s footsteps but hearing voices instead. You can’t make out what is being said, though you can start to hear voices raising. The exchange continues to grow until you can clearly hear, “look dude, I was only paid to serve you.”

Your stomach drops at the word serve. A second later the front door slams hard enough to echo through the house and you slide off the desk, suddenly far more concerned about who was at the door.

You adjust your shorts and walk toward the foyer, finding Anton standing with his back to you. One hand rests against his hip while the other grips several folded pages hard enough to wrinkle them beneath his fingers. His shoulders rise and fall in unrestrained anger.

“Anton? What’s wrong?” You ask cautiously. He turns at the sound of your voice, anger and disbelief lighting up his face then shakes his head as if he still can’t make sense of what he’s holding. Without speaking, he walks to you and extends the papers.

You take them carefully and unfold the first sheet, your eyes catch on the bold heading before anything else.

PETITION FOR JOINT LEGAL AND PHYSICAL CUSTODY.

Your fingers tighten around the paper as you read Jia’s name beneath it, followed by Minyoung’s and Anton’s. When you finally look back up, Anton is staring past you toward the stairs that lead to his son's room, his jaw clenched. He lets out one short, humorless breath and drags a hand over his face before forcing the words out.

“She’s suing me for custody.”

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