Moving Forward

An extended yawn passed Shin-hee's lips, one she didn’t bother covering since her available hand was steadily but gently patting her baby’s back as little Baram drifted further off into dreamland. Another yawn slipped out and the twenty-nine-year-old lifted her head just enough to see over the toddler, catching sight of the bedside clock that read ‘11:02’ in bright red numbers. Earlier than the night before which meant that maybe—hopefully—he was getting used to the emptier bed. A bittersweet smile passed over her features and she gently pushed herself up to get out of the bed, pressing a sweet kiss to the sleeping boy's crown on the way. Wishing him the sweetest of dreams, she quietly shuffled out to the main area.

After procuring herself a glass of the Bohae she had on hand, Shin-hee sat at the island table where her laptop sat idle and waiting for her return. She just sat there though, unable to refocus as her mind drifted—touching on both the past and future in simultaneously rapid and languid succession. In the past few weeks, she'd gone through probably every stage of grief a few times over but she'd also had the time to seriously think.

To think about what went wrong.

Convenience...survival—she supposed—was what had kept them together all that time. The first love, puppy love phase was real, she was sure of it; however, once they'd moved out together and really came to know one another, she was sure they were only sticking together because they had to. Because, if they split during such tumultuous times, neither of them would have made it and one, or both, would have gone back to their island town with a tail between their legs and a dream totally unrealized. Now that they were in such good, successful spots, they didn't need each other—not in that way. And, in time, she would grow used to that fact. She would grow used to the much too large bed. She would grow used to the overwhelming quiet that came when Baram and the dogs and cats were asleep or hiding.

They would remain friends: no hard feelings held between two adults who knew for a long time that something wasn't right. And, in retrospect, she was glad that they were never super public with things. It saved her and Baram a great deal of stress now. She only hoped that her ex could bear the media hounding.

It'd break her heart to see him suffer.

The light thud of Dal hopping from the cat tree, followed by the telltale noise of Haeri immediately attacking, snapped Shin-hee from her reverie. She let out a quiet sigh, taking a sip of the wine. As she returned focus to the laptop she'd been staring unseeingly at for the past 10 minutes, she opened her Kakao app instead of her emails and penned a quick message to the man in question.

Oppa, good night!
Good luck with tomorrow's shoot~ 💪🏻💪🏻