Jaemin the Icy Prince on Campus - Na Jaemin NCT

52. Time

I get a text from Jaemin one hour later.

So how did it go? I ignore him.

Another text ten minutes later.

Kim Mina. Answer me.

I text back, Shut up. I just destroyed a man's life.

He texts back, Are you in? I'm coming.

No, I reply. Don't. I'm talking to my mum.

Okay, he texts back. Tonight then. I'll come over to your house.

No, I text back. Not my house. My mum's in shock. The convenience store at the corner.

Okay, he texts. What time?

8.00 pm, I reply.

Okay, he texts. Be there. 8.00 pm. Not a minute later. I love you.

I replay the conversation with my mum in my head.

- I broke up with Leean. -

- Why? Is it because of Jaemin? -

- Why didn't you tell me he came to see you? -

- Why? Because he married someone else. He broke your heart. He
divorced that woman after two years. Two years! There was no
way I was letting him near you.

- No, mum, you've got it wrong. She wanted the divorce, not him. -

- What difference does it make? -

- It makes all the difference in the world. -

- Why did she want the divorce? -

Silence.

- Mina.Was it - was it because of you? -

- Yes. -

I stared her in the face.

"Omg," she said. Her face looked stricken.

"He loves me, and I love him, Mum." My voice shook. "And we're together again, so you'll just have to accept it, whether you like it or not."

"Mina," she said, her voice breaking, "I'm so afraid he's going to break your heart again."

"It's my heart he'll be breaking, Mum, and it's my life we're talking about here. This is about me, not you, not anyone else." I walked out of the room.

At 7.30 pm, he texts me, I'm on the way. I ignore him.

At 7.50 pm, he texts, I'm at the store. Where are you? I send him a grinning emoticon, just for the hell of it.

At 8.00 pm, he texts, Where are you?

Where, indeed. Never you mind, Na Jaemin. I'm skulking behind in the alley, trying to catch a glimpse of you. I'm looking at the way the light shines off the pavement and looking at everything with brand-new eyes.

My phone chirps.

I'm getting annoyed, he texts. I don't reply.

I walk along the pavement.

I lengthen my stride to pass by the other houses, catching a glimpse of the interiors, when I see someone walking ahead of me. A man, tall, beautifully proportioned, hands in pockets, temper and agitation in his stride.

Of course, it's him.

He glances over his shoulder, no doubt hearing my insanely loud shoes stop in their tracks. Then he looks again.