A guilty pause at the door. “Yeah....I uh...got caught up at the office.”
Wooyoung sat at the dinner table alone, arms crossed accusingly. “You’re late a lot these days.” He continued, uncrossing an arm to reach for the glass of red wine in front of him. “Yeah....there’s a lot going on.” San, lied clumsily. Wooyoung nodded, making a small humming noise in the back of his throat as he lifted the wine glass to his lips, taking a shallow sip. Setting the glass back on the table, Wooyoung reached into his house coat pocket and pulled out the flimsy pictures he’d stared at until the images were burned into his memory, tossing them on to table’s hard, wooden surface. “Are you sure that these have nothing to do with it?” He asked, voice rising. San stumbled forward, reaching down to pick up on of the pictures, “Where did you get these?” He asked with a shaky voice. Wooyoung picked up his wine glass again, this time, taking a hearty sip. “Is that something you should be asking me right now, San?” He snapped, setting the glass down angrily. San’s hand shook as he stared disbelievingly down at the picture. “Where. Did. You. Get. These?” He asked again, slowly, voice as shaky as his hand. Wooyoung stood and braced his weight on the table with his knuckles, “Are you going to tell me why you have sonogram photos?” He bit out. This conversation was going nowhere fast. He had to get back to the point. Everything was riding on San’s answer. His happiness, his sanity, their relationship. “San….” He pressed, leaning forward until he was eye level with his partner, heart slamming against his rib cage. Wooyoung hoped, prayed even, that he’d get the answer he wanted. He wanted, more than anything for those photos to belong to someone else. His lover, his other -better- half, couldn’t have gone and done this to him. Not San. Not possible. “I have a son.”
Wooyoung’s knees gave, and he collapsed back onto the chair he’d vacated, pushing a hand through his disheveled hair. San sat opposite him, sliding the pictures over to him and tapping the top photo with his index finger. “Where did you get these?” He asked a third time. “They were delivered here earlier.” Pause. Why was San’s tone like that? As if Wooyoung had done something wrong? Was he the one with the secret child? “Hold up….are you really going to gloss over the fact that you have some kid?” San sat back, “We were broken up. She was there, the end.” The end? That’s all he was going to get? No actual explanation, no apology for keeping this to himself?
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