153 — Kneading Trouble

A/N: There are illustrations at the end of this chapter. Enjoy.

...

Eun Ha's POV:

"Nothing's... wrong, honey. Really." Eun Ha's voice came out thinner than she'd planned.

Jae-il nodded as if to placate her, yet it didn't look like he really believed her. He dropped his gaze again, to the space between their hands on the counter, to the half-empty glass of milk between them. "Right."

It wasn't the simple dismissal it could have been. It was an acknowledgment. An acceptance of the lie she was clinging to. He'd give her space, like he's always done. But not forever. In the meantime, she'd buy enough time to get herself sorted out.

That was what she told herself, anyway.

The real problem was that she couldn't indefinitely avoid her son, especially not now that he was home. They were bound to spend time alone, they lived in the same fucking house after all. Eun Ha would have to hide for an eternity—like some sort of perverted villain with a guilty-child-touch fetish.

He'd eventually want an explanation for her sudden standoffishness, or her staring too much when they passed by each other.

'Jae-il's right.' She thought to herself, feeling dejected as ever. 'You are a terrible liar...'

She kept silent, head hanging low. She needed a few more hours to herself. Just to breathe and process all the stuff that Dr. Han put in her head, and the even more dangerous stuff that came straight out from the confines of her mind, which didn't care much about Eun Ha's feelings.

It would pass.

She would make sure it did.

For now, though, she looked up at her only son. "Jae-il..." She leaned in a fraction, her voice warming despite herself. "Tell me about the game. I watched it, you know? You were amazing."

He looked bewildered for a moment, then brightened as if she'd flicked a switch. His eyes flashed knowingly—purple gems gleaming. He knew the kind of pitiful attempt at a subject change it was, but didn't comment on it.

Eun Ha bit her bottom lip.

Jae-il propped his chin in the palm of his hand and chuckled. "Hard not to be this good when I have the most supportive mom in the world, of course."

She smiled, eyes crinkling.

He launched into the recount of his match, speaking in excruciating detail of everything that happened. She got so immersed by the retelling that for a short, shining moment, her brain forgot her angst-ridden thoughts, and the ticking-time-bomb of Jae-il's general presence.

'Listen to your son...' She could hear Dr. Han's voice at the back of her head as she gave Jae-il her undivided attention. 'You need to practice being in his presence without running away. The only way out is through...'

Eun Ha exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing her shoulders to drop. She could do this. She had to. Running every time he came near would only make the problem metastasize.

So she did. She listened as Jae-il explained his game play. She nodded as he rehashed everything that happened, in and outside of the pitch. Even a fun little moment where Jun-hwan supposedly slipped in the showers, which brought the locker room to uproarious laughter as Jun-hwan laid on the slippery tiled floor of the locker room with the biggest blush on his face.

Jae-il rolled his eyes, laughing fondly.

She made supportive sounds and occasional noncommittal questions, just to keep him going. All the while, he kept smiling, eyes brimming with excitement.

Eun Ha noted the gentle curve of his neck, the skin that was smooth and free of acne or blemishes. Ah, but she'd witnessed this phenomenon before; Jae-il had apparently managed to skip the rite of passage that teenage acne typically represented—it's as if fate had looked at puberty and simply flicked that page closed, deciding it wasn't for the Cha family.

He'd just… emerged from that cocoon. A lean silhouette replaced lanky limbs, and any adolescent softness vanished overnight, replaced by a defined frame. His constant training had helped, of course. If anything, it had accelerated his evolution.

His sisters had also sailed through adolescence with the same dumb luck regarding skin gods. Yeong Gu had once said that it was a family trait more reliable than the weather forecast.

Even Eun Ha herself seemed to defy every logic of wear and tear. She could probably roll through a wind tunnel of sand, go on living without ever knowing the meaning of make-up, abandon all manners of self-care, and still be as wrinkle-free as a piece of paper.

Jae-il continued talking while Eun Ha's eye slid down the bridge of his nose to the pert bow of his lips, thin and unsmiling in the moment, but she'd felt the exact opposite before, when he'd laughed or smiled.

Eun Ha raised her gaze to his eyes. His were lidded as he finished the last of his retelling, shrugging towards the end. "Well, the match itself wasn't hard, but Jassim, the Qatari keeper, was especially intense." He chuckled a bit. "Still, we won, so."

Eun Ha nodded, lost in his violet eyes. "... is that so?"

"It feels so good to be back home, though." He then admitted, and leaned back, stretching his long arms over his head, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his chest and stomach.

Her gaze dipped, tracing the lines of muscle she knew were there. She remembered those lines, but not like this. Not as something to be looked at. Not as something that made her stomach do a guilty, painful flip. She sighed, at least she had calmed down and wasn't in a total panic state right now.

She could hold a conversation with her son without freaking out. She tilted her head. "Is the training camp over?"

"Yep. All done." He answered with a proud little grin, a boy showing off a good grade. "No more drills until the World Cup. Just... regular training with the team. So I'll have more free time."

She exhaled. Free time. More of this. More of him being here, right in her space. Eun Ha's throat felt tight again. Well, it was inevitable. She had expected him to come back at some point.

"The house will be livelier." She managed. "I'm sure Mia and Su Ah will be thrilled."

Dr. Han's words once again replayed in her head. He wouldn't be around Eun Ha, but around Mia and Su Ah as well. That was a sobering, dreadful thought when taking into account the recent revelations.

Eun Ha had no proof, but her intuition, that same little feeling that told her there was something wrong with Mia, now told her there was something wrong with all of them.

She wanted to ask him about the hickey. About Mia's secretive phone call. To ask him if he'd noticed anything strange. To ask him, 'Hey, what's really going on here?'

But the words wouldn't come out. What if she was wrong? What if she accused her own son, her brilliant, celebrated son, of something so awful based on nothing but a hunch and her own messed-up mind?

She was scared she'd be right if she asked, and she was scared she'd be wrong if she didn't.

"Mom?"

Eun Ha blinked. Jae-il was looking at her with that slightly concerned expression again. She'd zoned out again. "Yes, sweetie?"

He sighed. "I was saying I can finally help you with the house more often now. You should lean on me a little, mom." He said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He watched her with that unnerving patience again.

Eun Ha gulped. "T-That's very nice of you..." Ah. She needed to keep her hands busy. Her mind followed. She rose from the stool on autopilot and was about to head to the sink, to scrub some plates clean, to not stare at that face while she spoke. "but you should rest these days—"

The moment she put weight on her right leg, a sharp, electric pain lanced up from her calf, hot and vicious, like someone had driven a thin needle straight through the muscle. Her breath caught, and she stumbled, one hand slapping the counter to keep from falling.

"Mom?" Jae-il was on his feet in an instant, crossing the distance in two strides. His hands hovered near her elbows, not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. "What happened?"

"Nothing—" She started, but the word died when she tried to take another step. The pain flared again, deeper this time, spreading into the arch of her foot. She winced, unable to hide it.

Jae-il's brows knit together. "You're hurt."

"It's just… a cramp." She tried to wave him off, but her voice came out strained. "I walked too much today. It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." He glanced down at her leg, then back up at her face. "Sit. Now."

"Jae-il—"

"Mom." His tone was quiet, but firm. She could imagine that was the very same tone he used on the pitch when he either called out to his teammates or shouted out instrunctions. "Sit."

"......"

Eun Ha closed her eyes, chewing on her bottom lip. All she wanted was to internalize all of this on her own.

She let him guide her to the couch, where she'd be more comfortable. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped her lower herself, one on her arm, the other hovering near her lower back. Her calf throbbed in protest.

Jae-il crouched in front of her, hands resting lightly on his knees. "Which leg?"

She pointed vaguely at her right. "Calf. And… the foot a little. I think I overdid it walking home."

He nodded once, already reaching for her ankle with careful fingers. "May I?"

Eun Ha's heart slammed against her ribs. Dr. Han's voice whispered again. 'Exposure—gradual and controlled—is the only way to rewire the fear response.' But this didn't feel controlled, at all. This felt like willingly stepping into a fire.

She swallowed hard. "It's fine. I can—"

"You're in pain." He didn't move closer, just waited. "I know how to help. I've gotten them a couple of times after games Let me fix it."

The concern in his voice was so earnest, so purely filial, that it almost hurt more than the cramp. He wasn't trying to seduce her. He wasn't even thinking about it.

And that made it worse.

Because she was the one whose mind turned a simple act of care into something vile. But it was all inside her. He couldn't possibly know what she was thinking right now. He had no control. She had no control. The shame curled like a hand around her neck, leaving her throat in a dry swallow.

It should have been easy to say no, the normal thing to say was a flat refusal of help. To stand and flee to her room to compose herself as much as she could in isolation. That was the easiest way to do things.

'Let the discomfort exist without acting on it.' Dr. Han had said. 'That is how you begin to take the power back.'

Eun Ha closed her eyes for a second, then managed a tiny, jerky nod. "Okay."

Jae-il's eyes bored questioningly into hers until she was forced to look away. Then, his fingers closed gently around her ankle, lifting her foot to rest on his knee. He undid the straps of her heel. "Should have gone with flats instead, mom."

"......"

Her breath hitched as the heel came off and his warm hand palmed her instep, slowly kneading his way up.

Eun Ha blushed, looking away again.