It was late, but I left a message on Dr. Pritchard's work voicemail asking if I could schedule an appointment that week. Dr. Kathryn Pritchard was my therapist, and she'd helped me come a long way in dealing with my post-traumatic stress disorder. She'd helped me grieve for my family and had helped me work through my fears. I hadn't scheduled a session with her in a while, but I needed someone impartial to talk to.

Jungkook stayed gone for hours. I got a text from Somi asking if I was okay. It was a dead giveaway that Jungkook had told her about my pregnancy, and Somi knew. She was trying to figure out how to deal with me. I knew this because normally she'd call or even come around to the flat. A text for news this huge... Yeah, she didn't know how to handle my reaction.

Staring down at the photo of me with my family that Jungkook had framed and given me for Christmas, I tried to force my insides back together again. I gazed at Beth, my baby sister, who I held tight in my arms, and I attempted to do this by understanding exactly what it was I was feeling. The fear was coloring everything. I wasn't even sure if I was unhappy with the idea of being a mom. It was soon—sooner than I'd wanted—but if I could just get past the fear, maybe I would see it wouldn't be such a bad thing. Not such a bad thing at all. This baby was a product of Jungkook and me. A part of him. A beautiful piece of him. A gift we'd given each other.

As much as I loved the makeshift family I'd created in Seoul, this was my chance at my very own family again.

That clawing pressure pushed and ripped at my chest, but I fought through it, taking deep, even breaths.

Now I just had to explain all this to Jungkook so he'd see I wasn't pulling another "Somi moment," pushing him out when things got tough like I did when Somi was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I just wanted him to understand what was going on inside of me.See, I had come a long way.

I jumped at the sound of the door opening and shutting. My pulse throbbed harder beneath my skin as Jungkook's footsteps grew louder the closer he got to our bedroom.

He stood against the dark backdrop of the hall, the soft light in our bedroom barely casting him out of the shadow, but I could see his expression was tired. Grim, even.

I sat up, waiting.

"Today was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives."

Guilt gnawed at my stomach, and I winced apologetically.

"I need an answer," he demanded softly. "I need to know if you're happy to be pregnant with my kid. After everything we've been through, I need that answer."

I shifted, reaching out to him. "Please, just let me explain. I'll—"

"Wrong answer," he uttered bitingly, his expression shutting down. "I can't believe you... after everything... that we're back here again." He turned, leaving me shocked, and open-mouthed as he stormed down our hall. A door slammed, and I hopped off the bed and into the hall to watch a light come on, shining under the guest bedroom door.

Tears choked me, and I swallowed the hitch in my breathing as I tiptoed back into our bedroom. My husband and I had fought quite a few times in the last few years, but not once had Jungkook let it come between us. He always slept in our bed with me, and he always pulled me close at night.

The hot tears slipped down my cheeks.

I'd hurt him.

And for the first time in a really long time, he'd hurt me too.

***

That whole night I tossed and turned, my eyes on the hallway. A big part of me wanted to go into our guest room and shake Jungkook awake and make him listen to me, but the more I lay there and the more I thought everything over, I thought it best to let him sleep so we could have a rational conversation in the morning.

Except, I was exhausted from lack of sleep. I got up just before six in the morning, sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and attempting to read a book. Just before Jungkook's alarm was set to go off, I got up and made some fresh coffee for him.

Not too long after, he wandered into the kitchen in his pajamas, his hair in disarray, and I ached with hurt and love as he avoided my eyes.

"I made you coffee," I told him quietly, trying to gauge whether or not this would soften him up."Thank you," he muttered, taking hold of the mug. He leaned against the counter, staring at the wall.

My stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly.

I had to explain so he'd stop thinking the worst of me.

"Jungkook—"

"I have to shower." He walked out of the kitchen abruptly.

"We need to talk!" I yelled at him angrily.

His answer was to slam the bathroom door.

This was a whole new side to my husband. And I did not like it one bit.

I got up, ready to do battle, when a knock at the door stopped me. That knock was followed by a key turning in the lock, and I knew then it was Somi.

Bracing myself, I wondered if I'd be able to handle two of my favorite people being so mad at me. Three years ago that would have been a pece of cake. But these idiots had softened me up, whether I liked to admit it or not.Somi appeared in the kitchen doorway, her eyes instantly finding me.

Whatever she saw in my face made her pale, and she came straight at me, arms wide ope

.

I relaxed into her hug, not even realizing until right then how much I needed it."I don't even know if I should say congratulations."

I tensed.

Somi pulled back, peering at me cautiously. "Jungkook's really upset."

I couldn't speak. I wanted to. But I was afraid if I did I would scream.

"Look, I'm here, Y/N." She rubbed my shoulder in comfort. "I'm here if you need me."

Swallowing past the gust of screams, I nodded and thanked her hoarsely.

We were quiet as I made her a cup of tea, and we sat down at the table together. It occurred to me as we sat in silence that maybe if I told Somi everything I was feeling, Jungkook would listen to her. I didn't know what was going on with my usually understanding and compassionate husband, but what I did know was that he was angrier than I'd ever seen him, and clearly unwilling to listen to anything I had to say. He might listen to Somi.

I opened my mouth to speak when the sound of the bathroom door opening halted me. Both Somi and I turned to watch for Jungkook, and as he passed the doorway, he gave his sister a taut nod of hello and continued on into the bedroom to get ready for work. On a Sunday.

Somi turned to me, her eyes questioning.

I took her hand and squeezed it. "He slept in your old room last night," I whispered. "He's never done that before."

My friend's expression grew pained. "Y/N... talk—"