⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ daddy 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
part 2 | series masterlist
summary: he’s new to the neighborhood, moving into the house directly across from yours in the quiet little cul-de-sac. you don’t know much about him. only that he works on cars in his garage, mows his lawn shirtless like he’s trying to ruin your life, and always looks a little too tired. it’s not until a little girl appears in his driveway one afternoon that you realize the handsome mechanic across the street comes with a tiny family attached. pairing: girldad!bangchan x reader genre: all the above (f,s,a) cw/tags: eventual smut, slow burn, grief/loss, fear of abandonment, insecurity, self-worth issues, overworking, exhaustion & burnout, praise, emotional intimacy soundtrack: apple music - lithen when you're in love / spotify * ✩˚word count: ~7k ˚✩ *
The café Chan mentioned turned out to be small and warm, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat near the edge of downtown.
The kind of place with different kinds of seating, many hanging plants, and soft music low enough that conversations blended together quietly beneath it.
You spotted them near the window almost immediately.
Jia sat on her knees in a booth beside Chan, coloring while he scrolled through his phone with his coffee untouched beside him.
He looked up the second you walked in, and there it was again. That subtle shift in his face every time he saw you lately.
“Hey,” he said as you approached.
“Hi.”
Jia looked up next, immediately brightening. “You came.”
“I did.”
“Daddy thought you were gonna cancel.”
Chan blinked once. “Okay.”
You laughed softly as you slid into the booth across from them. “Did he now?”
“Jia,” he sighed out, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. She looked completely unbothered by his tone and went back to coloring.
Your eyes drifted toward him again. “You thought I was gonna cancel?”
Chan looked faintly embarrassed, “I don’t know,” he admitted with a small shrug. “You said yes pretty fast.”
The words slipped out naturally. “That’s because I wanted to come.”
The barista called your pickup order a second later, breaking whatever had started settling between you.
“I’ll grab it,” Chan said automatically, already standing.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” The quiet answer lingered strangely in your chest while you watched him walk toward the counter.
Across from you, Jia looked up from her coloring book. “Daddy smiled in the car today.”
Your heart betrayed you instantly. “Oh?”
Jia nodded very seriously. “Usually traffic makes him grumpy.”
“Yeah?”
Jia nodded very seriously, leaning closer across the table like this was important information.
Your smile softened before you could stop it. “Maybe he was excited for cake pops.”
Jia considered that for a second, then shook her head. “No. He smiled before I asked for pops.”
You pressed your lips together, trying very hard not to look over at Chan while he stood at the counter waiting for the order. “That sounds like a good morning, then.”
Jia nodded once, satisfied with that answer, before returning her attention to the coloring page in front of her.
By the time Chan came back, you were still pretending your chest hadn’t done something incredibly inconvenient. He slid your coffee toward you first, then set Jia’s cake pop carefully beside her crayons.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
“Of course.”
The morning crowd moved quietly around you after that, but somehow the little booth by the window still felt oddly separate from the rest of the café. Like the three of you had slipped into your own corner of it.
Jia carefully peeled pieces off her cake pop while you and Chan drifted into easier conversation across the table.
Work.
The neighborhood block party.
The fact that Jia apparently believed every stuffed animal in existence had emotional needs.
“She cried because I washed Leebit once,” Chan admitted, sounding deeply tired about it.
Your eyebrows lifted immediately. “You washed her best friend?” you asked in mock horror.
“She smelled like applesauce.”
“That’s not the point.”
Jia gasped softly beside you like she couldn’t believe either of you would reopen such a traumatic event, and you both ended the conversation with a chuckle.
She then took another thoughtful bite of her cake pop before looking back up at you. “Where’s your husband?”
You nearly choked.
Across from you, Chan went completely still. “Jia!” he said immediately, sounding genuinely horrified this time.
“What?” she asked softly, blinking between both of you. “Nana said grown-ups usually have one.”
You felt your whole body heat up.
Chan dragged a hand over his face. “Okay,” he muttered tiredly. “We are not interrogating people this morning.”
Jia frowned slightly. “I was just asking.”
“I know, bug.”
His voice softened automatically at the end despite the obvious embarrassment threatening to kill him where he sat.
Your eyes dropped briefly toward your coffee cup while you tried to regain control of your nervous system.
The question shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did, but somehow it settled directly into every quiet part of your life you usually avoided thinking about too long.
Chan looked over at you carefully then. “You absolutely do not have to answer that,” he said gently.
The sincerity in his voice made something ache unexpectedly in your chest.
You let out a small laugh, mostly to buy yourself a second to think. “No husband,” you admitted softly.
Jia tilted her head immediately. “Why?”
“Jia.”
“What?!” she whisper-shouted back.
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
Chan looked moments away from dissolving into the floor.
“I think,” you said carefully, glancing down into your coffee for a second, “it just never really happened for me.”
Jia considered this very seriously while taking another bite of her cake pop. “It’s okay,” she said seriously. “Daddy was married to my mommy. But not anymore.”
Silence settled over the table instantly.
Chan closed his eyes briefly. “Bug,” he muttered softly.
“What?” she asked, confused again. “I’m helping.”
Your chest tightened painfully at the sincerity in her voice, because she thought she was making you feel better.
Chan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck before glancing toward you apologetically. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you said quietly.
His gaze lifted toward yours again after that. Searching in that way he always did when something mattered more than he knew how to say out loud.
“Still,” he murmured.
Before either of you could figure out where the conversation was heading next, Jia held her cake pop toward you suddenly.
“You can have some.”
The offer was immediate. Serious enough to make your chest ache all over again.
Chan huffed a soft laugh beside her, shaking his head slightly. “That’s how she fixes everything,” he admitted quietly.
Your eyes stayed on Jia for another second before you finally smiled. “That’s a pretty good system,” you murmured softly.
Jia nodded like she already knew that.
Chan watched the two of you quietly from across the table, fingers resting loosely around his coffee cup now gone cold.
Something in his expression had changed again. Softer than before. More careful, somehow.
Like he was realizing this wasn’t just Jia getting attached anymore.
Outside the café windows, people drifted past beneath the late morning sunlight while the quiet buzz of conversation carried around you.
But sitting here with them somehow felt strangely separate from the rest of the world.
Jia yawned suddenly beside Chan, tiny shoulders lifting dramatically with it.
He glanced down immediately. “You getting tired already?”
“No.” The answer came too fast to be believable.
Chan smiled faintly into his coffee. “Mm.”
Jia ignored him completely before looking back at you instead. “Daddy has to work later.”
Your eyes lifted toward Chan automatically “Today?”
He nodded once. “Friend of mine needed help at the garage.”
“Uncle Hyunjin,” Jia added around another bite of cake pop.
“Mhm,” Chan hummed. “Uncle Hyunjin.”
“He lets me sit on the toolbox.”
“Which is very unsafe,” Chan muttered.
“But fun.”
A laugh slipped out of you softly. “So that’s who keeps stealing you on weekends.”
Chan leaned back slightly in the booth. “Pretty much.”
“If you want,” you added carefully, “Jia and I can hang out later?”
Chan looked faintly surprised by the offer. “You don’t have plans?”
“Not really.”
Jia gasped softly beside him. “We can color.”
“That sounds less like a suggestion, and more so a demand." You laughed out.
“She does that,” Chan murmured into his coffee.
Jia ignored him completely. “And maybe cartoons.”
“Wow,” you nodded seriously. “Big plans ahead.”
A quiet laugh escaped Chan before he could stop it. “If you’re sure,” he said.
Your eyes flicked toward him again. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”
Something in his expression softened briefly at that before Jia shoved the remaining piece of cake pop dramatically into her mouth.
“So, I’m coming over?”
You looked over at Jia, who already seemed entirely certain of the answer. “I think that’s what we agreed on, yeah.”
“Okay.” She nodded once. “Can Leebit come too?”
“I don’t think she’d forgive me if I said no.”
Jia smiled brightly at that before returning to the last few crumbs of her cake pop.
Across the table, Chan shook his head softly. “We really walked into this one.”
“Into what?”
“Now she’s going to expect you every time I have to work last minute.”
Something about his words lingered strangely in your chest, and before you could figure out why and respond, Jia held up frosting-covered fingers toward Chan.
“Sticky.”
Chan sighed quietly and reached for napkins immediately.
You smiled into your coffee as he cleaned frosting from her hands with the tired patience of someone who’d clearly done this a thousand times before.
And somewhere between the coffee going cold in your cup and Jia humming softly beside him, the morning slipped into something comfortable and easy.
The kind of easy that felt a little dangerous if you thought about it too long.
𝜗𝜚
“Daddy said I can only have one juice box.”
You looked up from the living room floor where you’d been helping Jia get crayons from the zipper pocket of her backpack.
“Sounds like we better listen to daddy.”
Jia sighed dramatically. “He says too much sugar makes me crazy.”
“I think he might be onto something there.”
“I’m already crazy.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
Late afternoon sunlight spilled across your apartment while cartoons played quietly in the background, the volume low enough to blend into the rest of the room.
Across the coffee table, Jia carefully lined up 7 other stuffed animals beside Leebit.
Meanwhile, Chan had been gone for less than an hour, and somehow, his absence was already noticeable. Which felt ridiculous. You barely knew him.
“Can you braid hair?” Jia asked suddenly.
Your eyes dropped toward the doll currently being shoved into your lap. “I-I do. How many braids does your baby want?”
Jia looked down at the doll seriously. “Three.”
“Three?”
She nodded once. “So she can be fancy.” Jia scooted closer beside you on the rug while cartoons played quietly in the background.
You carefully separated the doll’s tangled hair between your fingers while Jia watched with complete concentration.
“Daddy can’t braid,” she informed you.
“No?”
“He tries.” Jia paused thoughtfully. “Then he gets frustrated and says bad words.”
A laugh escaped you softly “Poor daddy.”
Jia nodded sympathetically before handing you another tiny hair tie from the floor.
Outside, the afternoon had started slipping slowly toward evening, sunlight stretching gold across the living room walls.
And somewhere across town, Chan was probably elbow-deep in an engine while you sat cross-legged on your floor learning how his daughter liked her dolls’ hair styled.
𝜗𝜚
Once 8:30 rolled around. Jia was already fed and tucked in your bed fast asleep by the time Chan was knocking at your door.
The second you opened it, he looked exhausted. Grease still smudged faintly along one forearm. Dark curls a mess from repeatedly running his hands through them. “I’m so sorry.”
Your eyebrows lifted immediately. “For what?”
“For being late.”
He glanced past you automatically, already searching for signs of Jia. “Hyunjin and I lost track of time.”
“Chan.”
His eyes returned to yours.
“She’s fine.”
Some of the tension left his shoulders immediately. Not all of it. Just enough for you to notice how much of it he’d been carrying.
“She ate dinner, we watched cartoons, and she passed out about twenty minutes ago.”
Chan blinked. “Already?”
“Completely knocked out.”
A tired breath escaped him “Thank God.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Honest enough to make something in your chest ache.
“Long day?”
Chan let out a quiet laugh. “You have no idea.”
For a moment, neither of you moved. The porch light cast a warm glow across the front steps while crickets hummed somewhere deeper in the neighborhood.
“Come in,” you offered softly. “She’s sleeping in my bed.”
He froze for half a second. Not because of the invitation. Because of the image it created. “Okay,” he said quietly.
You stepped aside to let him in. The house was dim now, lit mostly by a lamp in the living room and the light over the stove.
He shut the door gently, instinctively quieter now that he knew Jia was asleep. “She wasn’t any trouble, was she?”
Your eyes immediately narrowed. “Chan.”
“I’m just asking.”
“She spent half the afternoon making me braid hair.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Sounds exhausting.”
“I barely survived.”
A tired laugh escaped him. And for the first time since he’d arrived, he looked like he was finally starting to relax. The silence that followed settled comfortably between you.
His gaze drifted toward the hallway towards your bedroom, where Jia was currently asleep beneath your blankets.
Safe, warm, and completely unaware her father had spent the last thirty minutes worrying about getting back to her.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
You opened your mouth immediately. “Chan.”
“No.” The interruption was firm and gentle, causing your heart to flutter.
His eyes found yours again. “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal. But it is.”
The house suddenly felt very warm, because he wasn’t talking about dinner. Or cartoons. Or braiding hair.
He was talking about trust.
About coming back after a long day and knowing Jia had been happy; knowing she had been taken care of.
His gaze dropped briefly before he added, softer this time, “She had a good day then,” he then pauses, “she really likes you.”
The words settled somewhere deeper than they probably should have. You glanced toward the hallway before looking back at him.
“And you?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Me?”
Suddenly, you became very aware of how that sounded.
“Did you have a good day?” you clarified, a little too quickly.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think I did.”
Something about the answer felt like it meant more than the words themselves. The silence that followed stretched comfortably between you. He leaned against the couch, his gaze drifting to the dark outline of your front yard in the window.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
A quiet laugh escaped him, then he asked, “What’s with the garden?”
You blinked. “The garden?”
He nodded. “Every time I see you outside, you’re messing with something out there.”
Warmth settled in your chest unexpectedly. Not because of the question. Because he’d noticed.
“I’ve always kinda liked doing it.”
Chan hummed softly. “That’s not really an answer.”
You laughed. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
“There isn’t more to it?” His curious gaze lingered on you. “People don’t spend hours in the heat pulling weeds because they kinda like something.”
Your smile faltered slightly. “You judging my hobbies?”
“I’m saying there’s probably a story there.”
“I…” You looked down briefly. “I think I just find it healing.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“You put something in the ground, nurture it, and eventually it becomes something beautiful.” Your shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “There’s something comforting about that.”
For a second, he didn’t say anything. Then he muttered out a quiet, “Yeah.” His gaze dropped briefly toward his hands, “I never thought about it that way before.”
You tilted your head slightly. “The gardening?”
Chan nodded. “The waiting.”
The answer surprised you. “Waiting?”
A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “You put time into something. Take care of it every day. Hope you’re doing it right.”
His eyes drifted toward your bedroom for the briefest second before returning to your curious stare. “And then one day you look up and realize it’s become something completely different from what it was when you started.”
Your chest tightened. Suddenly this conversation wasn’t about tomatoes or flowers anymore.
Chan let out a quiet laugh through his nose. “Maybe that’s why I like watching you out there.”
Your heart stumbled. “In my garden?”
“Yeah.”
His smile softened. “Reminds me that some things take time and patience.”
And somehow that felt like the most personal thing he’d told you all night. Your eyes stayed on him for a moment longer than they probably should have. He didn’t look away. For once, neither of you rushed to fill the silence.
Then he glanced toward the hallway again. “She’s really asleep?”
A smile pulled at your mouth. “I could take Leebit and she wouldn’t even know.”
His laugh came easier this time. “Good.”
The word lingered. Not because of Jia. Because for the first time all evening, he looked like he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Like he had finally found a place to sit down, and stay for a minute.
Your heart gave an uncomfortable little squeeze as you watched him relax.
“What?” Chan asked suddenly.
You blinked. “What?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ve been staring at me for a minute now.”
Something uncomfortable and fluttery settled in your chest. “That’s not true.”
“It’s a little true.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“That’s your defense?”
“It’s all I’ve got.” You laughed out.
Somewhere along the way, the two of you migrated from the front door to the couch. The conversation stopped needing a direction. One story became another.
Chan told you about his first car.
You told him about the pepper plant you accidentally killed three summers in a row.
You learned he hated mushrooms.
He learned you couldn’t keep a houseplant alive unless it lived outside.
Then neither of you noticed how the hours slipped by quietly.
Outside, the neighborhood settled into sleep.
Inside, Chan’s laughter had become easier. Less guarded and more frequent.
Every now and then you’d catch yourself staring at him. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and his dimple deepened. you could’ve melted on the spot every time he smiled wide. The way he looked at you as he listened. Like every story mattered. Like what say you mattered.
You glance up.“Wait.”
He followed your gaze. “What?”
You stared at the clock on the wall. “Is that right?”
His eyes widened. “No way.”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“How?” He questioned.
“I genuinely have no idea.”
Then he eventually glanced toward the hallway, reality returning all at once. “I should probably get her home.”
The words landed quietly as you nodded. “Probably.”
Neither of you seemed willing to be the first one to leave, and as he ducked his head trying to unsuccessfully hide a smile, he mumbles. “We’re really bad at ending these conversations.”
A laugh escaped you. “Are we?”
“I think so,” he paused, It’s a good thing.”
Your heart betrayed you immediately. It sounded less like an observation, and more like he planned on having more conversations like this. Then he reluctantly pushed himself up from the couch, like he wasn’t entirely convinced leaving was the right choice either.
You led him down the hallway, and by the time you reached your bedroom door, he had already slowed.
Once you opened the door, Jia was asleep exactly where you’d left her. One arm wrapped around Leebit, half the blanket kicked off. Completely sprawled across the middle of your bed.
Chan stared for a second. Something in his expression shifted. Not the way it usually did though.
You stayed beside him quietly. Neither of you wanting to disturb her. Finally, he exhaled softly through his nose.
“She really made herself at home.”
“A little.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Sorry about that.”
“You apologize too much.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.
He froze, then he turned his head toward you. The hallway light caught in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your voice came out softer than intended.
“You don’t have to say sorry every time someone does something nice for you.” Suddenly you became very aware of how close he was standing.
And for once, he didn’t immediately have a response, he just looked at you, like he was trying to decide what to do with this new feeling.
His gaze dropped briefly, towards your mouth, then right back up. A tiny movement of course, something that was easy to miss.
But for you, impossible to ignore.
Your breath caught and so did his.
And suddenly the space in between you felt very little, very quiet.
Very very concerning.
Then from the bed, “Daddy?”
Both of you jumped, and he immediately looked away. The spell breaking all at once. “I’m here, bug,” he answered softly as he walked further into your room.
Jia made a sleepy sound from beneath the blankets. “Okay.”
Then, “Leebit too?”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
Chan pressed a hand over his eyes briefly “Yeah.”
Jia settled immediately. “Okay.” Within seconds, her breathing evened out again. Like she’d only woken up long enough to do a quick room check.
The room fell quiet once more, but not the same kind of quiet. The moment from before had slipped away, leaving something else behind.
He looked down at his daughter for a second before carefully pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder.
And when he turned back toward you, something in his expression had changed. Like he was suddenly very aware of how close you’d been standing too. Neither of you said anything. There wasn’t really anything to say. Not without making things better or worse.
Chan cleared his throat first. “I should get her home.” The words sounded slightly rough around the edges.
You nodded. “I agree.”
Neither of you sounded particularly enthusiastic about it, he smiled faintly after you spoke. Then leaned closer towards your bed to carefully to gather Jia from the bed. This definitely seemed more intimate having him in your room now.
She stirred the moment he lifted her. Small hands immediately finding the front of his shirt. Head tucking beneath his chin. Still mostly asleep.
The way she fit in his arms made your chest ache.
Chan adjusted her weight effortlessly. One arm beneath her legs. The other supporting her back. “Thank you,” he said quietly. This time, there wasn’t an apology attached to it. Just gratitude.
Your smile softened. “You’re welcome.”
For a second, neither of you looked away. Then Jia let out a sleepy sigh and buried her face deeper into his shoulder.
The spell broke again.
He adjusted her again against his chest before glancing toward the doorway. “I should let you get some sleep.”
You laughed softly. “Says the man who got here three hours ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Fair.”
He lingered for another second anyway. Eventually, he shook his head softly. “Goodnight.” The word felt strangely intimate. Like it belonged to something much more familiar than this.
Your chest tightened. “Goodnight, Chan.”
His eyes held yours for a moment, then he smiled before turning toward the front door.
You waited until the door closed behind him.
Waited until you saw the porch light next door flicker on through the window. Only then did you let yourself exhale.
Because somewhere between coffee, cartoons, talking about your hobbies, and three accidental hours on your couch…something had changed, and neither of you had missed it.
As you crawled into bed, your phone lit up.
Channie: She woke up long enough to ask if Leebit made it home safely.
You stared at the message, then laughed out loud.
You: And? Did she?
Three dots appeared immediately.
Channie: She’s safe. Mildly traumatized from being dropped in the street, but safe.
Another laugh escaped you.
You: Thank God.
Channie: Jia also wanted me to tell you goodnight.
Your smile softened immediately.
You: Tell her I said goodnight too.
The reply came a minute later.
Channie: Will do.
Three dots appeared again.
Disappeared.
Then returned.
Channie: Thanks again. For today.
You stared at the message longer than necessary. Somehow it felt different from the thank you he’d given you at the door, like it wasn’t just about babysitting anymore.
You: Anytime.
The message sent.
The three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then vanished.
Nothing else came.
Yet somehow, as you set your phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, you found yourself smiling into the darkness.
Sleep definitely didn’t find you for a while.
𝜗𝜚
Three days later, you were halfway through watering your garden when a shadow fell across the flower bed.
“Question.”
You looked up immediately to see Chan standing on the other side of your fence.
Hair damp.
Black tank stained with what looked like chalk.
Still looking unfairly hot right where he was standing.
“I should have an answer.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Jia wants to know if tomatoes are fruits or vegetables. She says fruits.”
You blinked. “That’s the question?”
“I’ve been informed it’s important.”
“And you couldn’t Google it?”
“I did.”
“And you still came here?” You laughed.
He leaned his forearms against the fence. Looking entirely too comfortable. “She said you’d know more.”
You stared at him for a second smiling. “Tomatoes are fruits.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Cucumbers too.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”
“Seeds.”
“That’s a ridiculous system.”
A laugh escaped you. “Take it up with science.”
He looked as if he was considering this. “I’m not arguing with science.”
“Coward.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Let Jia know she’s right.” You pointed at him immediately.
“I can’t phrase it like that.”
“Why not?”
“She’ll never let me live it down.”
“Good.”
For a moment neither of you looked away. The late afternoon sun warmed the air between you while a breeze stirred the leaves overhead.
“Another question?” He asked, this time softer.
“Hmm?” You look back down watering the seedlings.
“Or well,” he pauses looking slightly flustered which gained your full attention again. “M-my mom is taking Jia for the weekend,” he starts while rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay?”
“It’s my birthday.”
“Oh!” You smile. Really?”
Chan nodded. “Saturday.”
“Twenty-nine right?”
He nodded.
You immediately winced. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“That’s serious.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He rolled his eyes, though a smirk started to appear.
You went back to watering the seedlings, but only for a second before looking up again. “Sooo you came over to tell me that?”
He immediately looked flustered again, “No.”
“Okaaay.”
“I mean, yes, but not just that.”
His gaze stayed on yours a second longer than necessary, like he was still deciding whether to actually say it out loud or swallow it back down and pretend this moment never tried to happen, but then he exhaled, “I was wondering,” he said, slower now, more careful, “if you’d want to come with me to a jazz festival this weekend.”
That landed differently and your heart was definitely fluttering.
Not just a casual night out. A whole event. A crowd. Music bleeding through open air. Something alive and loud and full of people he didn’t quite seem built for, and yet, he was inviting you into it.
You blinked. “A festival?”
He nodded once. “Yeah. Downtown. It’s…a few days. Different sets, food trucks, all that.”
A pause flickered between you.
“It’s just music,” he added on, then immediately softened it. “I just thought you might like it. And I was given more than one ticket and I—” He stopped himself, rubbed the back of his neck like he could physically erase the awkwardness. “I’d like you there.”
There it was. Not polished. Not rehearsed. Just honest enough to sit in the air between you and raise the temperature even more.
You didn’t answer right away, and you could see him start to brace for impact. That subtle tightening in his shoulders. The way people did when they were preparing to recover from a “no.”
So you didn’t make him wait too long. “I like jazz,” you said.
His eyes flickered a glimmer of hope. “Yeah?”
“And I like food trucks,” you added.
That earned a quiet breath of relief from him, almost a laugh that didn’t fully form.
“Okay,” you said finally.
He blinked. “Okay?”
“I’ll go.”
The word hit him like it needed a second to fully translate in his brain. “You will?”
You nodded. “Festival. Jazz. Food I probably don’t need to spend money on but will anyway.”
He looked away briefly, like he was still processing the fact that you’d said yes. Then he spoke quieter, almost in disbelief, “Cool. Friday?”
“Friday works.”
“I’ll pick you up,” he said. This time, it didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like something he needed to do.
And when you nodded, he gave a small exhale, like he’d just stepped off a ledge and discovered the ground was still there.
Chan lingered for another second, the smile still pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Dad!” Jia’s voice carried across the driveway.
He laughed. “Duty calls.”
𝜗𝜚
Friday was four days away, which shouldn’t have mattered.
Yet somehow, Chan became painfully aware of it every time he looked at a calendar.
Every time someone mentioned the weekend.
Every time his phone lit up.
It was ridiculous. He was turning twenty nine . Not sixteen.
And yet, by Tuesday, Hyunjin had accused him of smiling at an alternator. In which Chan denied smiling at it.
Hyunjin had to remind him that he's a terrible liar.
By Wednesday, Jia wanted to know why he kept checking his phone.
“I’m not checking my phone.”
“You just checked it.”
“That’s different. It lit up and I looked at it”
“How?”
Chan had no answer for that.
Thursday evening found Chan standing in his kitchen watching water on the stove as he was trying to decide whether he hated the blue button-down or merely disliked it. His grey v-neck was always an option, he thought to himself.
Then his phone rang.
Mom. The sight of her contact poster stirred suspicion in his gut.
“Hello?”
“Did you ask her?”
Chan closed his eyes. “There wasn’t even a hello.”
“I know who I raised.”
A sigh escaped him. “Hi, Mom.”
“Did you ask her?”
“You called specifically for this?”
“I bought those tickets specifically for this.”
Chan stared at the ceiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Did she say yes?”
The fact that she asked so quickly told him everything. His mother already knew the answer. She was simply enjoying herself.
As she waited for a response, a smile threatened to spread across his face despite his best efforts.
“Oh my God.”
“Mom.”
“She said yes?”
Chan rubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe.”
A gasp echoed through the phone. “Jack!” she yelled.
“Jessica!” Chan called into the phone.
A muffled voice responded somewhere in the background before he heard his mother clearly again.
“I told your father she said yes.”
“I have to go…..Jia needs me.”
“Aht aht! No you don’t.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Tell my grandbaby I said hello.” She laughed out. “Your neighbor too.”
Chan laughed despite himself. “Goodnight, Mom.”
“Don’t wear that gray shirt.”
The line went dead as he stared at his phone.
“…How?”
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