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The paper is crumpled and scratched when Minho pulls it out from the envelope. It's almost filled, but only with crossed out words and furious pencil marks. At the end lies a single, simple, "I miss you".
Even without it being signed Minho knows who it's from.
She's not about to do anything about it, however. Her hands still clench with anger when she thinks about him, when their divorce becomes present in her mind once again.
But Seungmin can't be expecting anything, because he didn't leave an address for Minho to reply to, not even a return address for the letter itself.
(She throws the envelope away with an annoyed flick of her wrist, but carefully folds up the letter to tuck it safely into her wallet.)
—
When Minho had met and consequently married Seungmin, she hadn't really planned on having to ever work again. The idea of becoming a housewife had, though annoying in its very sexist implications, appealed to her a great amount. She could stay home all day, do whatever pleased her, as long as a warm meal awaited Seungmin when he got home from work.
It's come to bite her in the butt now, when she's had to move back with her parents because she has nowhere else to go, and not a stable job to pay for it. It feels a bit like fleeing with her tail between her legs, and frankly she's not a fan of it.
Her parents eventually help her find a part time job at a café, and it feels a tiny bit like getting back on her own feet. Small steps, or something like that.
Said café is where, one day, Changbin finds her. She's not expected to ever see or hear from Seungmin's family again, and certainly not his oldest nephew, who never seemed to have liked Minho particularly much.
"Auntie," Changbin says when he steps up to the counter, voice fridgide in a way that doesn't match how he's still calling her that despite her divorce with Seungmin.
Minho doesn't acknowledge it, simply takes his order. When she has handed over his order and he looks about ready to head to a table and sit down, he hesitates.
"Uncle has been trying to get in contact with you about some stuff he didn't know what to do with. Something from when you lived together." He almost leaves, but hesitates again. "He said he sent you a letter."
—
A tiny note with a phone number burns in Minho's pocket for the rest of her shift.
She doesn't particularly want to be the first one to reach out, but it's not like she is, isn't it? Nothing about Changbin's visit seems random or like a coincidence — he'd been there on a mission, as much as he hadn't said anything about that. And yet it's clear as day to Minho that Seungmin sent him.
Seungmin contacted her first.
But Minho doesn't use the number to call him. No, instead she uses it to figure out where he lives, and shows up one day, unannounced, outside his door.
He seems only mildly surprised to see her there, though way too pleased. Almost happy.
"What was it you wanted to sort out?" Minho asks and steps inside before he can invite her in.
They hadn't had too many things, and most of them had been stuff they'd already had, and the splitting of things had been very straightforward. Minho has no clue what this could be about.
"Did you get my letter?" Seungmin asks, ignoring her question.
"Yes," Minho replies, and clicks her tongue. "You hadn't written a return address."
Seungmin seems surprised by that, but she can't tell if it's because he had forgotten about that, or because he didn't expect her to so openly admit to considering writing him a reply.
"I've missed you," Seungmin says.
"I know," Minho says, knowing that he can read all the unsaid things in that.
—
When they've sat down in the kitchen with a cup of tea, Seungmin slides a brochure across the table.
Minho scans it over quickly and slides it back to him with two fingers. "We're not married anymore."
"I never sent in the papers," Seungmin admits.
Minho… isn't surprised, actually. And rather pleased, to her own annoyance.
She doesn't say anything, but slides the brochure back towards herself to look at once more.
She has missed him, too, after all.