5 Years Later

“Norah, it’s bed time now… You can finish the book tomorrow.” You tried to reason with your four year old daughter, but she was having none of it; insisting that she stayed up until your husband returned from work.

“But I haven’t seen daddy today…” She pouted as she climbed onto your lap, innocently snuggling up to your chest.

“Daddy isn’t working tomorrow, so you can spend all day with him I promise.” You scooped her up in your arms and hugged her body tightly, her tired chocolate eyes were fighting to stay open as she protested.

“But—“

As if it was staged perfectly, Jimin walked through the front door and kicked off his smart Oxford shoes; a huge grin broadening his handsome features as his gaze settled upon you and Norah, her contagious bright smile lighting up the room when she realised who was home.

“Daddy!” She squealed, holding her arms out as he approached the sofa you were sat on and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, “You’re home!”

“You’re supposed to be asleep by now Norah-Jayne…” He attempted to scold her as he reached out to lift her tiny body from your grasp, “Come on princess, off to bed we go!” He glanced at you over his shoulder and mouthed a quick ‘be right back’ before heading upstairs.

“Goodnight mommy!” Norah called out as she finally headed to bed, carrying her favourite orange giraffe soft toy and the book she’d insisted on reading every day for the past three months.

Once your husband’s footsteps gradually faded into your daughters bedroom a content sigh escaped your lips, you headed to the kitchen to pour you both a well deserved glass of wine, being a full time mom was the hardest thing in the world; but you wouldn’t change a second of it. Norah loved Jimin as much as you did, if not even more, and so it was decided that her biological father was never mentioned in the house, as far as she knew Jimin was her dad. And to be honest, he was.

The two of you fell in love whilst you were pregnant, excluding Lola and Jungkook he was the only person who made an effort to keep you healthy and happy. Your parents disowned you when you told them the news and admitted you’d have to drop out of school to raise the baby; and as for Hoseok, you hadn’t seen him since the day you found out you were pregnant. Not long after that he moved cities to pursue a career as a dance teacher according to Jungkook. Once Norah was born Jimin moved into yours and Lola’s shared apartment to help out with parental duties, he was a natural at taking care of her and you clicked as a family straight away. It wasn’t ideal, but it was perfect.

Jimin didn’t care that Norah wasn’t biologically his daughter, he didn’t care that it wasn’t his name on her birth certificate, she was still his little princess. As a drunken Lola once told you; ‘Any college fuckboy can make a baby - but it takes a man to raise a child.’

And Jimin was your man.

As you poured fragrant red liquid into the second glass your phone vibrated in the back pocket of your jeans; upon seeing Lola’s contact name and picture you answered the call at lightning speed.

“Any sign of him yet?” You beamed with excitement, referring to her baby boy who was now thirteen days overdue.

“Nope, I’m still fat and furious, the lesser known Vin Diesel movie.” She huffed over the phone before taking a long cautious pause, “Are you sat down?”

“I am now, why?” You giggled as you lifted yourself onto a kitchen stool, phone in one hand and wine glass in the other.

“Y/N there’s something I need to tell—”

“Is the baby okay?” Your eyes widened in horror as her voice was unusually soft, “Is it Jungkook? What happened—“

“The baby’s fine, Jungkook’s fine, I’m fine… But Y/N, he’s back in town.” She almost whispered, a cocktail of pure hatred and rage brewed inside your stomach as the realisation dawned on you, “Jungkook went to the hardware store for some more paint for the nursery and he was there… I don’t know much else, but Kook said he asked about you.”

“What did he tell him?” Your heart was racing impossibly fast, sweat beaded your forehead as Jimin walked into the kitchen, sitting opposite you at the breakfast bar wearing a concerned scowl.

“Well he asked how you were getting on and made small talk, Kook mentioned he was best man at your wedding and I guess he put the pieces together himself because the next minute he’s bolting out the door mumbling something about his ‘so called best friend’.” She explained, her voice trailing off into a pained whimper.

“Lola?!” Your heart skipped a beat, “Lola are you okay?!”

“Fuck-, oh my god—“ She screamed, earning you to tear the phone away from your ear as you prayed Jimin didn’t hear anything she’d explained, “I’m having a-, contraction-, shit. I’ve got to go—“

“Babe?! Is it happening?! Where’s the bag you packed?! We need to get you to the hosp—” Jungkook’s panicked shouting was the last thing you heard before the phone cut off, bringing you back to the unstable reality.

“See I told you he’d make an appearance today, you owe me five bucks.” Jimin smiled knowingly as he clinked his glass to yours, “Do you want to go to the hospital and see them? I can take Norah to my mom’s house?“

“He’s back.” You spluttered nervously, barely being able to steadily place your glass onto the counter without smashing it in an anger. After five years he finally decided to gave a damn about you and Norah, but it was too little too late.

Jimin’s physique seized up before he gulped the rest of his wine as though it was nothing but water, his jaw was tight as his hands balled into fists.“We could stay with my mom so he doesn’t find you.”

“If he’s going to find us, he’s going to find us… There’s no point running from him.” You guzzled the rest of your drink, signalling Jimin to pour you another one, “Five whole years it’s taken him to give a shit; five fucking years.”

“Y/N I know he’s Norah’s dad but—“

“No he’s not Jimin, you’re her dad.” You reached out for his hand, rubbing soft and slow circles onto his palm, “There’s no doubt in my mind about it, you are the best dad in the world to our daughter.”

“You know he’s not going to see it that way, right?” Jimin chewed nervously on his plump lip, shaking his head in disbelief.

Without a moment to spare the doorbell rang right on queue, earning you to look toward your husband with a mixture of shock and horror burning behind your eyes.

He was here.

Jimin nodded once and headed upstairs to ‘wash up’ as you made your way to the front door, your heart beating faster than the whirlwind fling you shared with Hoseok five years prior. Opening the door with shaky hands you immediately gestured for him to stay quiet, placing a single finger over your mouth.

“Hello Y/N, it’s been a while.” He said lowly, sounding more like an ominous Bond villain than the father of your child.

It was strange how little he had changed; his hair was a rich dark brunette, longer than you remembered as it kissed his structured high cheekbones. He was bulkier than before, his large muscles having to fight his gym gear for dominance as he swayed his weight from side to side. Other than that he still looked the exact same, it was only in that moment you realised just how much she looked like him.

“Hello.” You folded your arms over your chest and leaned against the doorway to keep you up right, hatred and betrayal winning your body to feel strangely empty and unsteady.

“So Jungkook and Lola, how about that? Married and expecting, who’d have thought?” He flashed a perfect white smile, contrasting beautifully against his tanned skin, “And I think a congratulations is in order for you too, I mean you’re married-“

“What do you want Hoseok?” You interrupted his half-assed attempt to make small talk and stepped outside the house, closing the door behind you, praying that neither Jimin or Norah could hear the hell that you were almost certain was about to break loose.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

“What are you talking about?” You leaned back against the door, adrenaline pumping through your body quicker and more painful than the fiercest sandstorm ever documented.

“Tell me that Jimin, my college best friend, isn’t inside that house raising my daughter.” Hoseok’s eyes were dark with presumably anger, only this time there was a lingering sadness behind his stare.

“Daughter?” You paraphrased, eyes narrow with suspicion; there was no way he could’ve known Norah was a girl, giving that he’d never been around.

“This isn’t exactly the first time I’ve thought about coming to see—“

“It’s the first time you’ve had the balls to show up though, thinking about being a father is significantly less impressive than actually being one.” You snapped with wide eyes, glaring through him as he noticeably winced at your words.

“I came back when she was born but I couldn’t bring myself to go into the room… I’m so sorry I let you down Y/N. That I let both of you down…” Admittedly his tone and expression screamed guilt but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him, not that easily.

“You didn’t let us down, in fact you told me the day I found out I was pregnant that you wanted nothing to do with her, or me. You stuck to your word, I’ll give you that.” You scoffed, “How dare you show up here after five years and be salty about who I married it’s not like you wanted—“

“I was scared and young, please Y/N. I just want to make things right.” He edged closer to you, his gaze flitting between your face and you’re sparkling wedding ring, “I want to be there for my daughter, and for you.”

The front door opened and Jimin stepped outside, his work clothes presumably in the washing machine as he’d changed into a plain white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. Hoseok’s face hardened upon seeing your husband’s hand snake your waist as he closed the door with his free hand.

“Can you guys be quiet? Norah’s asleep.” Jimin said calmly as Hoseok shook his head in disbelief, a humourless chuckle falling from his mouth.

“Norah… Don’t you say her name like she’s yours because she isn’t; she never will be… You were supposed to have my back man, and now you’re raising my daughter as your own! What the fuck?!” His voice was so loud he was practically shouting, animatedly throwing his hands around.

“She is mine.” Jimin stated matter-of-factly, his low voice dripping with venom, “Don’t act like you ever get a shit about my girls because you fucking didn’t, in fact you upped and left the first chance you got. Don’t show up at my house and try guilting my wife for your mistakes, you’re the one who said you wanted nothing to do with them, you’ve only got yourself to blame!”

“One hour, I just want to see her for one hour, that’s all I’m asking.” Hoseok disregarded Jimin’s words and pleaded with you instead, his eyes glassy with tears and his chin trembling.

“I-, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You admitted, “Norah’s happy with the way things are and—“

“Because she doesn’t know the fucking truth!” Hoseok screamed, his fists balled up tightly, “If she knew that this fucker wasn’t even her dad—“

“She’d still love him because he’s been there for her since day one, which is more than I can say about you.” You reminded him sternly, “Just go home, she doesn’t need you.”

“Please. I’m so sorry for everything, just please let me see her even if it’s just for a minute.” He begged, a single tear cascading down his cheek.

“I’m sorry Hoseok, but it’s not enough.”

With tear stained cheeks and a shaking physique Hoseok turned on his heel and left, not sparing you a second glance before punching your neighbours brick fence, a low hiss tore from his throat as his knuckles bruised on contact. The only thing you could bring yourself to do was look the other way and head back inside, Jimin closed the door behind you both and locked it, neither of you having the chance to speak up before a small figure looming on the stairs caught your attention.

Norah’s nose was long and thin like his and their smiles were almost identical, even though you could see Jimin’s kindness shining through her chocolate eyes there was no denying she was Hoseok’s daughter. Her tiny red pyjamas were creased with failed attempts of sleep, her hair curled waywardly as she rubbed her eyes, tired.

“Why did daddy shout at that man?” Was all she asked, and suddenly your chest tightened with something you’d never experienced in all the time you’d been a mother.

Guilt.