Coming Home | mark lee.

2

⏯️ Every Summertime by NIKI

Mark sighed.

"We can't really catch up," he admitted quietly. "I'm busy all the time, and she's probably busy too. She's always studying."

His mother laughed softly. "Mark, sweetheart, people take breaks."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know."

A pause.

Then she added, "You don't even have her number, do you?"

Mark groaned. "No."

"Thought so."

He dropped his head dramatically against the pillow. "When she changed her number, I lost contact with her."

His mom hummed knowingly.

"Do you have it?" he asked.

"Of course I do. I talk to her all the time."

Mark immediately sat up. "What?"

"Unlike some people."

"Mom."

She laughed. "I'm kidding."

"No, you're not."

"Nope." Mark rolled his eyes. "Can you send it to me?"

"Already doing it."

A notification appeared on his phone.

"Thanks."

"Don't stay up too late."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"Okay."

"Bye, Minhyung."

"Bye, Mom."

The call ended.

For a moment, Mark just stared at the contact on his screen. Tiffany.

Nine years. Nine whole years.

His thumb hovered over the number. The clock told him it was late in Houston.

Way too late. He should wait.

Probably. Maybe.

He pressed call. The phone rang.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Voicemail. Mark immediately regretted every life decision that had led him here.

A beep sounded. He froze.

Then cleared his throat.

"Uh...hey."

Silence.

"Guess who?" He cringed. "Okay, that was stupid."

Mark buried his face in one hand. "It's me. Mark."