𝕊𝕆ℕ ||𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔬𝔫

Not Forgiven

The apartment was unusually quiet now, aside from the distant hum of the city outside. Yejun had finally settled down after a story and a bit of fussing. Jimin had tucked him into his small bed, his little arms wrapped around his favorite stuffed toy, already drifting off into sleep. At four years old, Yejun still had that innocence about him, and Jimin lingered for a moment, watching the boy's peaceful face.

But that peace didn't extend beyond the nursery door.

As Jimin stepped out, gently closing it behind him, the tension in the air immediately became palpable again. Namjoon was standing near the window, his back turned, arms folded tightly across his chest. He hadn't said much since they arrived, and Jimin could sense the unease rolling off him in waves. This was a conversation Namjoon didn't want to have—one he'd been avoiding since they stepped into the apartment.

Jimin took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was about to unfold. He walked over to the living room, his footsteps soft, but the heaviness between them couldn't be ignored.

"Namjoon..." Jimin's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

Namjoon didn't turn around. He was staring out the window, as if hoping that the lights of the city below might offer him an escape. "I don't think I can do this," he muttered, his voice low, strained.

Jimin's heart clenched. He had been expecting this, but hearing it still hurt. "We need to talk about it. You can't keep avoiding me. Avoiding us."

"I'm not avoiding," Namjoon shot back, finally turning to face him. His expression was conflicted—pain, frustration, and something else Jimin couldn't quite place. "I'm just... I don't know if I'm ready to be here. With you. Like this."

Jimin swallowed hard. "Yejun needs stability. We need to figure this out, for him."

Namjoon's jaw tightened. "I know," he said softly. "But that doesn't make this any easier."

There was a long pause, both of them standing in the dimly lit living room, the weight of everything Jimin did. Jimin wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, but he wasn't sure if Namjoon would let him.

Jimin felt the air grow heavy as Namjoon's words hung between them. They had avoided this conversation for too long, but now, with Yejun tucked into bed, there was nowhere left to hide. Namjoon was staring at him, his eyes clouded with anger, hurt, and something far deeper.

"Jimin," Namjoon began, his voice tight and low, "you lied to me. You didn't trust me enough to tell me you were pregnant. You just... ran away." His words grew sharper, more bitter. "You took my child. You knew how much I wanted a baby, how much that meant to me, and you kept it from me."

Jimin felt his chest tighten, guilt gnawing at him, but he couldn't find the words to respond.

Namjoon shook his head, his frustration boiling over as he ran a hand through his hair. "So, tell me—if you hadn't come back for your brother's wedding, was I never going to know? Was I never going to know about my own son?"

The pain in Namjoon's voice cut through Jimin like a knife. He looked down, unable to meet Namjoon's piercing gaze. He had imagined this conversation countless times, but now that it was happening, it felt like a thousand times worse. Everything he had feared, everything he had tried to avoid, was now crashing down around them.

"I didn't know how to tell you," Jimin whispered, barely audible. "I was scared. Everything happened so fast, and then... I couldn't... I didn't think you'd understand."

Namjoon's eyes blazed with disbelief. "Didn't think I'd understand?" He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Jimin, I've always been there for you. Always. And you kept the biggest thing our son from me."