PART - VI - RECONSTRUCTION C1/4

I just wanna be happier.

The start of Christmas break was just as glorious as I’d hoped it would be. I was positive I had gained ten pounds on cookie dough alone, but I was warm, I was hopped up on Netflix and hot chocolate, and could sleep in for three days.

It didn’t get much better than that.

Okay, honestly, my life wasn’t exactly the picture of happiness and contentment… but I was on my way.

The doorbell rang and I set my Kindle down, pushed off my couch, and tugged on the hem of my shirt. I begrudgingly put on real clothes for the first time since break started and I was having issues with not ripping them off.

I opened the door and was swarmed by munchkins. They ran circles around me, grabbing at clothes and body parts and whatever else they could reach. Pikachu jumped into the mix, torn between protecting me from the savages and trying to force their attention on himself.

I knew I should have stayed in yoga pants and Taehyung’s old tees. “Look at you guys! You got so big! How did that happen?”

The middle munchkin stopped skipping to look up at me and say, “Veg-a-tubs.”

I raised a curious eyebrow at Hyejin’s brother, Yugyeom, and repeated, “Veg-a-tubs?”

He grinned at me, with his classic Yugyeom grin and said, “Veg-a-tub-les.”

I stepped to the side so Yugyeom could usher his gaggle inside with his full hands. He put the baby’s car seat on the rug and closed the door behind him. After he’d systematically stripped each child out of their hat, gloves, coat, and boots, he turned his attention to the newest one. I was anxious to see the little guy, but right now, he was buried beneath a zipper thing and a mountain of blankets.

“Can he breathe in there?”

He shot me a glare over his shoulder. “Yes. But these freaking winters. I swear we can hardly leave the house because I’m afraid one of my children is going to turn into a popsicle.”

“I bet it’s Gigi. She looks the most popsicle-like.”

Gigi wrinkled her nose at me until Yugyeom turned his attention back to the baby, and then she stuck her tongue out.

“Clever little girl.” I leaned over and tweaked her nose.

Standing back up, I announced to Gigi, the three-year-old, and Jack, the six-year-old, “There are Legos on the table and coloring books for those who are interested.” When neither of them moved immediately, I had to stoop to more desperate measures, “And snacks.”

They raced for the kitchen.

Yugyeom stood up with a gurgling baby in his arms and I felt myself start to glow. “Gimme gimme gimme.”

He handed over baby Jonah and I cuddled him against my chest. Babies had the best smell. Pikachu licked my jean-clad leg, distraught that I had something else to snuggle with.

Yugyeom looked a little lost with nothing to hold or scold. His eyes moved around my entryway and living room, looking for something new or breakable he should put up, out of his children’s reach.

He had always been remarkably beautiful. His hair was a soft, supple brown that fell in the kind of glossy waves that belonged in a shampoo commercial. And his eyes were the same rich, coffee-with-cream hue. He’d put on some weight since having the kids, but it looked good on him.

It gave him that curvy, pin-up figure. He was one of the lucky human beings that could gain weight in all the right places.

Satisfied with my preventative measures, he turned back around and asked, “But what are we going to do in five minutes when they’ve eaten you out of house and home and they’re bored with the new toys?”

“Then I have Netflix.”

“God, you’re good.”

I grinned at him. “Anything to spend time with you! Do you want a drink? Or a snack?” I started walking toward the kitchen. “I made cookies!”

“What kind?” he followed after me. “And are they burnt?”

“Chocolate chip. And half of them.”

“Give the burned ones to the kids.”

I laughed at him. “Won’t they notice?”

“As long as they taste sugar, they will literally eat anything. They’re like locusts.”

I whirled around and pulled him into a hug, gently keeping the baby out of the way. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you!” We released each other and he took a seat at the table, immediately pulling a few Legos to him so he could fiddle. “But I was hoping you’d put on a bunch of weight. Like at least a hundred pounds. I hate how skinny you are.”

Knowing he was just being snarky, I ignored his sassy comment. “Yeah, well, divorce will do that to you.”

“I still can’t believe you and Taehyung are getting a divorce! It doesn’t seem possible. You guys have always been perfect for each other!”

His words stung. There was a silent accusation there that I only picked up because I knew him so well. I focused on doling out the cookies. “Obviously not. We fought all the time. I couldn’t make him happy and he couldn’t make me happy. You haven’t been around us much in the last couple of years, Yug. It’s been bad.”

He let out a patient sigh and reached for more Legos. “Come on, Jungkook. You know better than that. You guys weren’t perfect for each other because you never fought. You were perfect for each other because you can still love each other even if you’re fighting.”

“But I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired of disagreeing about everything, and of always being on the defensive. I’m tired of him ignoring me for weeks and then coming back home like nothing happened. I’m tired of him treating me like a doormat. I’m sick and tired of hating myself.”

His gaze snapped up to catch mine and his eyes glittered with the gravity of the moment. “Then stop.”

“That’s what I’m trying—”

“No, I don’t mean get a divorce so you don’t have to deal with him anymore. I mean stop fighting with him. Stop being defensive. Stop being a doormat. Stop disagreeing and disrespecting him.”

I tilted my chin stubbornly. “It’s not that easy and you know it.”

“It is, Jungkook. Be in control. Be in control of your words and actions. Take control if it doesn’t come naturally to you. Do something other than throw away a perfectly good relationship and a perfectly good marriage because you’re tired of going through what every other married couple on the planet goes through. Talk baby. It’s the key to a relationship.”

Her words landed with the subtlety of an atom bomb and I wanted to dive into my cabinets for cover. How dare he. “That’s easy for you to say. You have Mingyu.”

His gaze had been firm yet gently narrowed dangerously. “You think we don’t fight? Jungkook, everybody fights. Just wait until you throw a couple of kids in the mix.”

His words were like a kick in the gut and I physically recoiled. Pikachu danced around my legs, sensing trouble.

Yugyeom pushed to his feet, the chair scraping back against the floor. “Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, desperate to keep the tears at bay.

“I didn’t mean that,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean…Damn.”

Gigi and Jack giggled and scolded their father for using a bad word, but he ignored them. He took a few careful steps toward me. His empty hands looked emptier than usual and the anguish on his face was clear.

I held Jonah against my chest as if he could rub some baby germs off on me. Maybe if I snuggled with him long enough, held him in my arms long enough, maybe then my body would know what to do.

Maybe my omega would wake the hell up.

“Jungkook, please,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry.”

Yugyeom and I had known each other for a long time and we’d always been straight with each other. We weren’t as close as Hoseok and I were, but only because we didn’t see each other every day. And Hoseok and I were childless; we could get together almost whenever we wanted.

Yugyeom didn’t have that kind of freedom. So even if he didn’t know the minutia of my life, he knew all of the big stuff.

He always knew the big stuff.

Like how long Taehyung and I had been trying to have a baby. He was the first person and only person I told when we started trying. I hadn’t been able to hold in my excitement.

I’d thought it would be easy.

Yugyeom had been with me the whole time. Encouraging me. Crying out of frustration with me. Giving advice and suggesting tricks he’d looked up on the internet. And getting furious when I couldn’t stand the failure anymore.

Because that was what it came down to.

Failure. What was wrong with my body?

Why could everyone in the world get pregnant except me?

The one time it did...

Aarghh!!!

Was this the universe trying to tell me I shouldn’t be a father? That I was somehow unfit? That I was somehow unworthy? That was how I didn’t deserve Taehyung.

“God, Jungkook, don’t look like that.” Yugyeom stood at my side, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, his chin pressed to my temple.

He wasn’t much taller than me, but at some point, I’d bowed my head and tried to curl into myself. I held Jonah against my chest and let the sorrow fill me.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry over this anymore. I’d spilled too many tears and dealt with too much heartbreak. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to cry. It was just that it didn’t fix anything. If crying helped my inability, I would have had hundreds of kids by now.

“It’s not fair, Yug” I sniffled. “It’s not fair to any of us.”

With the tone that only a mother can carry, he whispered, “Life rarely is.” We stood there until Jack needed his mom’s help and Gigi got restless.

Eventually, we moved into the living room where the kids could curl up with us and watch a movie. Yugyeom took Jonah back so he could nurse him. I exchanged a real baby for my fur baby. Pikachu crawled up on my lap and nudged my hand with his cold, wet nose until I stroked him back and scratched him behind his ears.

Gigi eventually fell asleep against my side and Jack wandered back into the kitchen to play Legos again. My friend’s kids were amazing. Well behaved and adventurous. They could be handfuls of chaos, but they were sweet and respectful too.

In college, Yugyeom had been a little wild. Even at the beginning of their marriage, he and Mingyu had loved to go out and party. But as soon as he found out he was pregnant with Jack, he changed. It was like he found his purpose in life, his meaning.

I watched him grow from cheerleader to super dad overnight and I could not have been prouder.

I wondered if that was the difference. I wanted to be a father, but I also loved my career. Nothing hurt more than not being able to have a child, but at the same time, I couldn’t imagine giving up teaching.

I couldn’t imagine not going to work every day or making a paycheck.

Was that the difference? Was that why Yugyeom could get pregnant just by one sex and I couldn’t manage to conceive once, no matter how many books I read or weird oils I rubbed or how many times I tilted my hips in the right position and tracked my heats like an obsessive maniac?

Halloween had been the first time Taehyung and I had spontaneous sex in over two years. We were slaves to my heat. No wonder Halloween had been so hot.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” I said quietly.

Yugyeom’s sly smile told me he had already forgiven me. “I’m sorry I was so bossy. I should know when to keep my mouth shut by now.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Shut up, if you haven’t learned how to keep quiet by now, I doubt it’s ever going to happen.”

Hid laughter stirred Jonah, who was sleeping against his chest. He stared down at him, rocking him gently to coax him back to sleep. “This will happen for you, Jungkook. I know it will.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “I’m not sure it will.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand to stop him. “I’m thirty, Yug. And I’m in the middle of a divorce. Who knows when or if I’ll ever meet someone? And let me just be clear that I am not ready to jump into another relationship. My biological clock is ticking. No, not ticking. It’s on a countdown timer. One that’s attached to a bomb and hidden in the underground parking garage of a mall. The chances of diffusing that thing are slim to none.”

“So what you’re telling me is you need John McClane.”

“Or Jack Bauer.”

“Tom Cruise?” When I gave him a funny look, he clarified, “Mission Impossible Tom Cruise.”

I laughed, “Yes, that’s what I need. I need Mission Impossible Tom Cruise without the weird religion and couch jumping.”

“What does it say about you that you knew who John McClane was but didn’t get the Tom Cruise reference?”

“Taehyung loved the Die Hard movies.”

“So does Mingyu.”

“It used to be our Christmas movie. Not It’s a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story. No, we watched Die Hard.”

He grinned at me. “That’s adorable.”

“Then he’d quote the movie for weeks. ‘Now I have a machine gun, ho ho ho.’” I picked at the seam of my couch. “I’ve actually missed it this year. I can’t make myself watch any of the other stupid movies. I just want Bruce Willis with hair.”

In a soft, caring voice, he said, “Maybe you just want Taehyung.”

Now the tears came. I held them back, but I felt them hot and broken against my eyes. “It’s too late for us, Yug. I promise it is. I know you’re all about rainbows and unicorns, but there is no fixing us. We are beyond broken.”

“Maybe you need to let that go,” Yugyeom whispered, afraid that he might struck a wrong chord.

“I wish I could...”

“Jungkook...you try...until you couldn’t...so...”

I could tell he wanted to say more, but this time he didn’t. He reached out and squeezed my hand and discussion moved to gossiping about everyone we went to school with.

It amazed me how he was able to keep up with everyone. He was like an internet detective. It was actually kind of scary.

An hour later, Gigi woke up and our quiet afternoon turned to mayhem. Gigi had not woken up happy and Jack was bored with Legos now that his sister was around to bother him.

Yugyeom bundled them all up again and herded them toward the door. We said goodbye and promised to do this again soon. It wouldn’t happen for months, but the promise was enough to keep us optimistic.

“I’ll come to you next time,” I told him. “That way you don’t have to do this again.” I waved at the coats, hats, mittens, boots, and other little odds and ends that had taken us twenty minutes, even working together.

“Don’t you dare,” he huffed. “You would be horrified by the mess. Besides, it’s good for us to get out of the house. I swear to god, sometimes it feels like I’m a prisoner there.”

“Stop,” I laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“It must be why we’re such good friends. We understand each other.” I gasped, surprised by his dig.

“What does that mean?”

He just winked at me. He picked up the baby in his car seat and wobbled. “Geez, this thing is heavy.”

“The thing being your baby?”

His eyes went big and defensive, “Yes! He’s huge!”

“Love you, Yug.”

“Love you too, JK.” He kissed my cheek and gave me a quick squeeze. “I’m not giving up on Taehyung,” he whispered. “Or you.”

Then he turned around and yelled at his kids to get in the car before they froze to death. I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant by that or why he couldn’t just let us go. He disappeared out the door before I could even formulate a sentence.

I watched him go with a swirling sense of dizziness. My hands landed on my abdomen and I couldn’t help but feel the fresh, sharp disappointment that nothing had come of my one-night stand with Taehyung.

I hadn’t even thought a child was a possibility until he said something in our mediation. I had stopped letting myself entertain the idea a long time ago.

Three years ago, precisely. The time we lost our only chance at happiness.

I also wondered about my motive for having a baby. What Yugyeom and Mingyu had was incredible. They loved each other like nobody I had ever known. They loved having babies too. Their children were born out of love and mutual respect for each other. They were born into a home filled with laughter and affection. They were raised by parents who adored each other.

When Taehyung and I first started talking about having a baby, it seemed more like a way to fix our splintering marriage than anything else. I had thought a child would force him to grow up…to get a real job. And I was ninety percent sure he’d assumed that if I had a child, I would get off his case.

But the longer we tried without results, the more I realized I wanted one. I had this hole inside of me…this baby-sized emptiness. I wanted to be a parent. I wanted to see the result that would be an even mixture of Taehyung and me.

Would he have Taehyung’s eyes? Would she have my good skin?

I wanted to grow our small household and become something more than just a couple. I wanted to become a family.

I didn’t know if Taehyung had felt the same way at the end. Our efforts became tedious and about as unromantic as possible by the end of it. Sex had been nothing more than a chore…a tiresome activity that we were both disappointed with before we ever began.

And it was really a tragedy. Taehyung and I had always had amazing sex before we tried to have kids. It was what fueled the first couple of years of our marriage. I had been as wrapped up in lust with my husband as I was in love.

But that had dwindled, then died completely when it became about charting and doing everything just right.

I hadn’t realized it until now. Which seemed silly, but maybe I was too caught up in the moment to see the bigger picture.

God, I hated that we’d lost that heat…that spark that made us want to touch each other all the time.

But maybe that wasn’t just the failure?

We were a failure at love. At family.

Maybe all married couples eventually fell out of lust. My parents had. Not that I wanted to think about that, but I couldn’t remember the last time they’d touched each other.

Hoseok and his first husband had. And really fast.

Yugyeom and Mingyu hadn’t…but they had to be some kind of anomaly. They weren’t normal. Sex became boring for most couples. It became a chore whether they had kids, were trying for kids, or never had any. It was just impossible to stay sexually attracted to one person for the rest of your life.

I glanced back at the wall in the entryway.

No, that was wrong. That was a lie. I had never been more attracted to Taehyung than that night. My skin flushed and heated as I thought about how his body pressed against mine or how his lips felt as he tasted my skin and urged me to give him everything I had.

Everything I was.

But it didn’t matter anyway because it had been a mistake.

A crazy mistake.

Even though it was impossible to regret it completely. Mostly because I knew I would never have sex like that again.

I would never feel that hot again… like my skin was on fire… like his lips would turn me into unquenchable flames and his touch would incinerate every inch of me.

By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen, the table filled with Legos, and the living room, I had almost convinced myself that our sex life would have become dull and boring no matter what. It wasn’t the baby. It was life.

It wasn’t the frustration of not conceiving. It was marriage and the years passing us by and everything that came between us.

And I had almost convinced myself to stop thinking about Halloween.

Almost.

But not quite.

!!~~~~!!