Page 20 of Fallen Starboy

"I like pancakes!" Yejin shouted enthusiastically, putting her hand in Arista's outstretched one like she'd known the womanher whole life. "Can we get ones with strawberries and syrup on them?"

"Sure," Arista said smoothly, handing me a business card. "Your daddy can call us when he's done here, and we'll come back and pick him up. What do you say to that?"

I'd never been far from her, even when I was on tour. And now I was handing her off to a woman I swore she'd never meet—a woman who I never wanted in our lives again. Was this the kind of sacrifice I had to make to give her a better future?

It was only temporary; we'd have an interview with a sitter or three soon, and I'd find someone trustworthy to watch Yejin while I got the preliminaries out of the way.

Once things settled, it'd be back to normal, just me and her, except for the odd occasion.

I just had to get through this transition phase first.

Everything would settle down soon.

Chapter

Seven

ARISTA

I satacross from my daughter—Jun's daughter. She wasn't mine. I had no claim to her, no matter how much I looked like her. No matter how similar we might be. No matter how much I regretted my choices, she was never going to be mine, and I had no claim to her.

She happily chowed down on a blueberry pancake from the street vendor around the corner, rolled up so she could dip it in her syrup without getting her hands sticky.

She was seven, but honestly, how much did I know about handling kids? I didn’t know if she was past the wholemessy fingersphase. I’d never spent a day in my life raising a kid?—

And there it was again, that regret I carried with me even before she and her father stepped foot into this country. The regret I thought I could live with every day, the regret that seeped into every porous bone in my body and took root like an invasive vine.

She was beautiful. All smiles, chatty, and trusting. And so fucking smart.

“Who taught you to roll your pancakes like that, Yejin?” I wondered aloud, not expecting her to actually answer.

Instead, she grinned around a mouthful of food, swallowed, and batted those eyelashes at me, every inch the little princess. “My uncle Minho. He said he learned it from—” she looked around and leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper behind the back of her hand. “From agirlhe used to know.”

I knew damn well which woman she referred to. Minho used to be so messy as a teen. And he liked to sleep late, which meant breakfast for him was usually on the go.

The memory brought a smile to my lips. Even though I hadn’t been there, the echo of my presence lived on. And Yejin had grown up with that echo.

A pitiful substitute.

“Why are your eyes watering?” she asked me suddenly, peering up at my lashes where tears had begun to collect. “Do you haveallergies?”

“Uh, yeah, allergies,” I agreed readily, glad that she’d given me an easy out. “I forgot my medicine today.”

She handed me a napkin, all smiles again. “Daddy makes his phone tell him when he has to do something. Maybe you should have a reminder like that, too.”

I smiled at the idea of Jun needing six alarms to remember a damn thing. “Maybe.”

Just as we were finishing our dinner, my phone began to vibrate. I flipped it open to see a text from Jun, and another from an unknown number. Shoving the likely spam message to the side, I opened Jun’s instead.

>>Hair is a multi step process. Will be a few hours. Security says they’re taking me from here to the interview, and can bring me home. Make sure my daughter makes it home safe.

I frowned at his message, the passive-aggressiveness bleeding from every letter on my screen.

You knew he would hate you, likely for the rest of your lives.And once upon a time, I’d been okay with it. If he hatedme from a distance, I’d never have to be subjected to his hatred and resentment in real time.Having someone loathe you this deeply, in the house you share, every single second of every day, was harder than I’d thought.

I had to get him an assistant, so I could get away from this, and fast. Staying would only hurt us all in the end.

Running was what I did best.

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