Just A Few Numbers Away

Chapter 119

The Empty Chair

​The atmosphere had been perfect.

The dining room was filled with the clink of silverware and the high-pitched excitement of Carly explaining her new school projects to her Momhie and Dadhie.

Yoongi sat beside Aen, his hand occasionally resting on the back of her chair, finally at ease now that he was officially a civilian and his home was full.

​Aen had just taken a few bites of the Tangsuyuk when she suddenly went still.

​Her mother, ever-observant, paused with her chopsticks mid-air.

"Aen? Are you okay?"

​Aen didn't answer.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, her face turning a pale, waxy shade of gray.

Without a word of warning, she pushed her chair back-the legs screeching against the floor-and bolted toward the hallway bathroom.

​The table went silent.

​"Aen!" her mother cried out, half-rising from her seat.

"I knew it, she went back to work too soon!"

​Yoongi was already on his feet before the bathroom door even slammed shut.

He didn't say a word to the rest of the table, though the worry in his eyes was sharp enough to cut through his calm exterior.

​"Please, stay here," Yoongi said firmly but gently to Carly, who was looking wide-eyed and scared.

"Eat your dinner, princess. I've got Momhie."

***

​Yoongi reached the bathroom just as the sound of Aen retching echoed through the door.

He didn't hesitate; he opened it and slipped inside, immediately dropping to the floor beside her.

He pulled her hair back with one hand, while his other hand rubbed steady, firm circles into her back.

​"Take a breath, Aen-ah," he murmured in Korean, his voice a low, grounding vibration.

"Just breathe. I'm here."

​Aen slumped against the wall, her forehead damp with cold sweat.

She looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red.

"I'm sorry," she rasped.

"My parents just got here... the dinner..."

​"Forget the dinner, Jagi," Yoongi countered, his thumb wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

He gripped her hand, realizing it was shaking.

"You're cold. This isn't just the flu from last week, is it?"

​Aen looked at him, her lips trembling.

"I don't know. I felt fine ten minutes ago. It just... hit me."

​***

​Back at the table, the mood had shifted from celebration to heavy anxiety.

Aen's father paced the small space near the kitchen, while her mother sat with her head in her hands.

​"The wedding is in three days," Lana whispered, looking at the sister.

"If she's this sick, she won't even be able to stand."

​"She's been working too hard," Aen's mother fretted.