TOMORROW | Changbin

Prologue

The air hung thick, not just with unspoken words, but with the cloying scent of yesterday's burnt toast and the metallic tang of my rising bile. Each tick of the clock echoed in the cavernous silence, a metronome counting down the precious seconds of a life I no longer recognized. Thirty minutes. Thirty excruciating minutes I'd spent staring at Changbin, a man who now resembled a stranger draped in the familiar shell of my once-lover.

Last night's fight was a vivid tableau etched into my memory with the searing heat of a branding iron. It all started with a simple question, a whisper choked with a lifetime of unspoken longing

"Changbin, wouldn't it be... cute, to have a family someday?" The words had tumbled out, laced with a nervous tremor and a flicker of hopeful yearning. It was a question I'd held close for months, afraid of the answer, yet desperate to know where we stood.

His response was a long silence, a chasm that stretched wider with each passing second for a few seconds but when he spoke.

"Family, huh?" He barked, a harsh sound that scraped against the raw nerve of my hope. "Don't be silly, Jiyeon. Kids are anchors, relentless time-sucks that drain the life out of you. I wouldn't be caught dead with one holding me back." His words were a punch to the gut, the air knocked from my lungs leaving me gasping for a response that wouldn't come.

Fury, a primal beast I never knew existed within me, had roared to life the moment those words left Changbin's lips. It wasn't a controlled anger, but a primal force that surged through me, hot and destructive. The fragile hope I'd held onto shattered, replaced by a crushing weight of disappointment.

Two hours bled into a blur of accusations and denials. We fought, not with the passionate intensity of lovers, but with the bitter venom of strangers. Each harsh word, flung with the fury of a hurricane, was a shard of broken glass, piercing the tender fabric of our love. The room itself seemed to shrink with each blow, the air thick with the acrid tang of unshed tears and unspoken hurt.

The fight felt like a lifetime ago. Two solid hours of screaming, each word a punch to the gut yesterday. Now today, silence still stretched between us, thick and heavy like swamp air. It used to be comfortable, this silence. Now, it felt like a tomb. Dust danced in the weak sunlight, mocking me with each passing second.

My throat was raw, my voice a rasp. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Changbin," I croaked, the word heavy with exhaustion and anger. "You gonna say something, or just gonna leave me to rot in this silence?"

The anger hadn't faded. It simmered beneath the surface, a hot coal in my gut.

"Jiyeon," he started, his voice smooth as silk but as cold as a glacier. It sent shivers down my spine "Let's end it,"

I was angry indeed but His words ripped me.

My breath hitched. Was it out? The secret I harbored, a tiny, precious ember of hope nestled deep within me. Has he somehow discovered it? Panic, a cold viper, coiled around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"Is it because of—" the question died on my lips, choked off by a strangled sob? The answer, written in the chilling emptiness of his eyes, was a terrifying mystery in itself.

Changbin cut me off. "We were never meant to be, Jiyeon," he interrupted, his voice devoid of a single shred of empathy. "This... this thing we have? It's a distraction, a detour on my path to success. And distractions," he added, his eyes hardening into chips of ice that sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me, "are a luxury I can't afford."

The secret stayed locked away, like a scream I couldn't let out. But what hurt the most was seeing in his eyes that our dreams for the future were shattered.

Everything crumbled around me like a sandcastle under a tidal wave. "Discarded," I whispered, the word echoing hollowly in the cavernous emptiness of the room. It felt like a physical blow, the weight of his indifference crushing me further.

"Four years, Changbin," I choked out, my voice raw with a mixture of anger and despair. My mouth was parched, the taste of dust and betrayal clinging to my tongue."Four years of sneaking around, sharing secrets, and dreaming together. Did it all mean nothing?"

Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the image of the man who used to hold my heart in his hands.

"The promises, the way you looked at me," I continued, my voice trembling, "the way you held me like I was the only thing that mattered... Were they all just a lie?"

His smile, a cruel ghost of what used to melt my insides, sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me. "Dreams are for fools, Jiyeon," he said, his voice colder than a winter wind. "This is reality. And in reality, we have no place in each other's lives."

A sob, raw and primal, ripped through me. Tears, hot and angry, streamed down my face, blurring the image of the stranger before me. "So that's it then?" I choked out, the weight of four years pressing down on me. "All those stolen moments, whispered promises under a summer sky... all for nothing?" My voice rose, laced with a desperation that mirrored the storm raging inside me.

He brushed past me, the familiar cologne a cruel reminder of what used to be. Each inhaled breath felt like a betrayal. "Those were Mistakes," he tossed over his shoulder, his voice flat, devoid of a single shred of warmth. "Just forget about it all, and move on Jiyeon. You're not my problem anymore."

The finality of his words slammed into me like a car door. Not a burden, not an inconvenience, but a problem. Four years of hopes and laughter felt like they were crushed into one heavy tear rolling down my cheek. He walked away, leaving me drowning in broken promises and shattered dreams. In the silence, a chilling question gripped me: Was I the only one who thought our love was real?

The slam of the door echoed through the apartment like a gunshot, the final punctuation mark on a love story gone sour, leaving me lost in the wreckage. Alone

A sob escaped my lips, a strangled cry that echoed my despair. Each tear was a bitter accusation against him, for abandoning not just me, but the future we never dared to speak aloud. His absence was a suffocating weight, a constant reminder of the heartbreak threatening to swallow me whole.

With trembling hands, I reached down and placed them on the slight swell of my abdomen, a tiny cradle where a miracle was blooming. A sob escaped my lips, a strangled cry. "I will take care of you, little one,"