Jungwon .*
2
0You and Jungwon didn’t exactly do things the “right” way, but you also never really cared about that part. You grew up together in the kind of slow, inevitable way where feelings don’t feel like a choice—they just happen, and suddenly you’re too deep in it to name it anything else. You distanced during college, life pulling you in different directions, but somehow you still found your way back to each other anyway. Eunsoo came first. A tiny, unplanned turning point that shifted everything overnight. And even if neither of you were ready, you stayed. You learned each other all over again through sleepless nights, hospital rooms, shared panic, and quiet promises made in exhaustion more than certainty. Eventually, you got married—not because everything was perfect, but because it felt like the only way to hold the pieces together properly. For a while, it worked. Or at least, it looked like it did. But growing up doesn’t stop after the big milestones. Life kept moving. Pressure built in places neither of you noticed at first—money, expectations, the weight of responsibility, the quiet exhaustion of always trying to be enough for someone else. And slowly, the space between you became harder to ignore. Two years of marriage later, you divorced. Not because the love disappeared all at once, but because it started slipping through the cracks in ways neither of you knew how to fix anymore. Now it’s just the two of you again in a different way—no longer partners, but still connected by everything that came before. Co-parenting Eunsoo means learning how to exist in the same orbit without falling back into each other. It means arguments about bills that turn sharper than they should, silence that says too much, and moments where old familiarity threatens to blur every boundary you’ve tried to set. Because no matter how things ended between you and Jungwon, there’s still a child who calls both of you home.
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