Chapter Text
You disappear to the nearest In-N-Out down the street as soon as you can, not wanting to wallow in that awkwardness any further.
John doesn’t even get one bite into his burger before he’s profusely apologizing, “I am so sorry about that. What my brother said is not okay, not at all.” He meets your eyes across the table, ducks his head again, and mutters the addendum, “Even if it is true…..”
“You don’t have a crush on me, you just have a crush on my voice," you correct him. Your fingers quite aimlessly pick through fries as you chat, you don’t know what else to do with your hands.
“No, I definitely think I do,” he repeats, stronger this time, this time unabashedly staring at your silver long sleeve dress and the matching necklace, your hair all up in a ponytail. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I assumed you were going to be like, a widow widow… I mean you are… but not that.”
You know what he means, he probably thought you were old and withered, not that there was anything wrong with those things. But you’re you.
Laughing at his blundering energy, you feel comfortable in his presence enough to admit, “To be honest? I had it in my head you were some like nineteen year old frat dude. That’s what you sound like.”
“Did you think I was going to be hot?” John asks, with a pointed, raised eyebrow that reminds you so much of someone else.
You don’t know why you blush. “Next question.”
“Man, I called your husband all sorts of awful, joking things… I never would’ve if I knew he was scary Doc K’s son!” He groans, thinking of all the times he’d labeled your husband a banshee, as something circling the drain, the only person who could use that dark humor and get you to laugh. “I used to see him and Doc J stand over by that baby window all the time together.”
You’re blown right back into the booth seat with the earnestness of the delivery, the surprise dump of information that has your chest aflame. The two of them shared a bond like no other, and you think you might cry if you picture the scene.
“Yeah, that wing is named after him. The Doyoung Kim Postnatal Ward. He was an OB, the best. All the moms wanted him to deliver their babies,” you reminisce quietly. The waiting list for his service was always a mile long due to word of mouth of how easy his deliveries were. But you shake your head, not wanting to get into that headspace, and bump John’s tray with yours. “But I do not want this dinner to be about me and my old life. What are you doing back in SF?”
It’s so nice, getting to have this conversation face to face. That way you can see Johnny's handsome features light up with joy when he tells you, “Mark is having his three month post-op appointment, then we’re officially off the hook! We’re getting transferred to a doctor closer to Ohio so we don’t have to keep flying out here.”
Just the mention of the word doctor has that flame sizzling again.
“Okay sorry, one more thing,” you cut him off. “Jaehyun was really your doctor?”
“Who?”
“Sorry, Jeff - Dr. Jung was really your brother’s doctor?” you correct, using the name that everyone else but you and his grandmother uses. “He and my husband went to med school together.”
You expect John to give a few additional, polite words about the man after he’d already waxed some poetic back at the hospital, but no, he launches into a monologue that paints this pristine portrait, “Yeah, he was. I’m not kidding when I say he’s literally an angel that was sent to us from heaven. I spent every day thinking my baby bro was going to die, and even though he wasn’t in the clear until recently I felt so relaxed once Doc J showed up.” He shudders, shaking off the possibility of Mark passing away and trying to get a grip, “He’s amazing. Every nurse wanted to work with him, every kid on the floor couldn’t wait to see him. He would bring a little toy to each of his patients, not just random crap, but something specific they would like. He brought Smalls a game used NFL football.”
That is… that is so cute. Jaehyun is so cute, he’s always been that cute. He’d been cute with that patient you saw, and he was cute with Baekhyun’s sons, and he’s cute, cute, cute.
“He offered to help me get a job doing medical sales at the Cleveland Clinic so I could get better insurance, would sing Smalls this lullaby right before he’d go to each surgery - something his grandma taught him. He watered the plants at the nurses station so they wouldn’t have to, and would come and eat with me if he was between surgeries and couldn’t meet his girlfriend at home—,”
“His girlfriend?” you gasp, feeling the incendiary burn on your cheeks. “What?”
Had Jaehyun been going around calling you his girlfriend that whole time? He would talk about you and be like, yeah, that’s my girlfriend? Or my girlfriend and I live together? You agonized and wondered and tossed and turned about what he was to you, but on his side, he woke up one day and that was that. You were his girlfriend.
John thinks for a moment, then he nods, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he said he had a girlfriend he lived with. He would get this dumbass smile on his face whenever he talked about her.”
“Interesting,” you gulp, trying to get off this subject so you’re not swallowed up in it. “Anyways, this is a huge step for you. I’d imagine so much of your life was tied up in this.”
“Yeah, it’s just me and Mark, and I literally dropped everything to take care of him when he got sick. They don’t even know why, just a totally random mutation or something,” John details, but he shakes his head and tries to get off the depressing subject of why they were there in the first place. “Okay, we’re on a date, I’m not going to talk about this anymore. I’m super pumped to get back to work, buy my own place when he goes to college next fall, all of that.”
You’re floored by this. Absolutely floored - and not angry, you have to make that distinction. You are just completely bewildered that Jaehyun had called you his girl, and then charmingly edited that when he was in public to the phrase girlfriend. He was fine with it, he legitimately thought he was done with his fiancée. And you… kind of like it. You like hearing about it now, it makes you happy that he was so happy he wanted to show you off yet had still been thoughtful enough to not mention you explicitly. That he'd bragged about you to his coworkers and his patients just because he wanted to.
“What about you? What are you up to?”
You would’ve been Jaehyun’s girlfriend if he asked. You would've happily sat with him at lunch, blushed all over when he told his coworkers it was you, worn a couples' costume with him every Halloween. And you know it’s hypocritical of you to think of this - but Sungchan had called you Jaehyun's wife by accident, and you weren’t upset about that either, because there’s a small part of you that could’ve seen that happening. You’ve spent all this time trying to deny it. You’d blatantly rejected him and his confession of love, thinking that somehow you were betraying your husband by doing so, but you can’t anymore. You wanted to be Jaehyun’s girlfriend. Want to, still, even though he’s leaving with his wife.
“Y/n?” John calls, “Hey, are you good?”
“I can’t do this,” you gasp, throwing down the fry you were holding like it’s burning hot. “I can’t.”
“Is it because I called it a date, I didn’t mean to,” John apologizes, sheepish and embarrassed for being so forward.
You shake your head, but you can’t get anything coherent out, “I—, m-my…. he, my…”
John nods once, not even mad, because he thinks he’s pinpointed it, “The husband thing, I get it.”
“No, not him. My… my boyf... the person I dated. I’m not over him,” you confess.
You have no idea what you’re doing anymore. You know you still feel horribly about Doyoung, what this implies, how invalidating it all feels, but you literally cannot do this. You can’t pretend anymore. You had feelings for Jaehyun this whole time, real ones, undeniable ones. You’d thought you were doing the right thing in letting him go back to his wife, but you never should’ve done that, you never should have.
You pat John’s hand on the table just once - all you’ll allow yourself to do in case it makes things even more muddled - and honestly apologize, “I’m sorry. You are very handsome and I think that I would’ve liked to date you in any other universe.”
“That’s cool. It’s not like we really know each other,” Johnny concedes with a nonchalant grin, an arrogant sweep of his hand through his long hair to entice you in a last ditch shot. When you only giggle in amusement, he just lowers his voice and admits, heartfelt, “I think I just liked you because… well. I had no one else.”
It was the same for you - you had Doyoung’s family, your mom, your casual acquaintances but you really didn’t have a person. You didn’t, until you did. You know you turned Jaehyun down - you’ll never let go of your idiocy in that moment - and he’s going to Cambodia with his wife, but he is that person for you.
That doesn’t negate what the man here at the table has done in this regard.
You lean your chin in your hand to gaze at John with much appreciation, and confess softly, “I’ve never said this to you, but when you first called, I was in a really dark point in my life. I was stuck in this rut, doing the same thing every day, thinking I was going to live forever in a haze, and talking to you truly helped.”
You went to work, came home, made dinner, slept. Every day, without fail, not finding a single bit of joy in any of the tender pleasures life had to offer. It wasn't until you started talking on the phone with John that you realized your life was still going on, and it wanted nothing more than to have you catch up with it. He was the first step out of that pit, and Jaehyun was the rest of the stairs - the sturdy beacon bringing you out of the darkness, the person who fixed your oven.
You throw caution to the wind and grab Johnny’s hand. He's your funny friend, Biggie, the person who you were able to cry with on the phone and never feel bad, and you have to thank him with all the sincere love you hold, “So. Even though I can’t… you will always be a very special person to me.”
He holds your hand so tightly, and he whispers back, a glistening tear in his eye, “Me, too.”
You’d lost your husband, and he nearly lost his brother, and once you’ve found each other like that, there’s no breaking it up.
—
This January must be breaking records for sunshine.
Seriously, you’re on like a seven day streak of no clouds, no rain, just that big ball of happiness shining. Because of that, and your meal with John yesterday, you figure today is going to be that day. You’re going to force yourself to feel all of these awful feelings, and have that talk. You’ll go up to the peds floor, with the cupcake versions of that peach-blackberry cake you brought in as a bribe, and you’ll ask Jaehyun to talk with you.
That plan is thrown to the wind in less than two seconds after you get to the office, when you hear Solar and Hwasa already deep into conversation.
“It’s literally a national tragedy that Dr. Jung is leaving.”
“I know, I’m going to miss seeing him around the hospital.”
“I saw him this morning and he was shirtless. Came in with his wife on their city bikes, he was glistening in sweat, looked like a model.”
You have never gone this deadly cold in three fucking years. From top to bottom, you’re chiseled out of pure icicle, frozen into the ground in horrific disbelief at what you just heard. You did not fucking hear that. You did not.
You never get into their conversations, but you have to now. You put on your sweetest, most engaged smile, and interrupt, “You said they came in on what?”
Solar pulls an annoyed glance to her coworker in confusion, then answers, “City bikes?”
That icicle shatters with this white hot rage that consumes every molecule of your being.
You go on the warpath at that, inspiring the menacing clack of your highest heels across the linoleum floor of the hospital. Angrily barreling past patients and families that are loitering around, you bypass the elevators to take the stairs up until the third floor. If you’re in an enclosed space, you’re going to explode and destroy this place. Quite frankly, you’re surprised they don’t call security the moment you step off into the pediatrics floor, you’re sure furious people aren’t allowed up here.
You flash your badge when the nurses asks, then go stalking through the wing, checking in the window of each goddamn room, the lounges, the kitchen, every fucking room. Until you get to the back corner of the floor, and there is someone in a room wearing a ladybug scrub cap. The ladybug scrub cap you’d hidden in the back of his gift, because you weren’t sure if he’d want it.
You’re roaring before you’re even in the door, “Jaehyun Jung!”
Jaehyun flinches in place the moment he sees you, nearly dropping his tablet at your surprise appearance. While you notice he’s not alone, that is inconsequential to how much devastation you feel when you look at him, and how horrifically that is braided with relief because you’re looking at him.
“Oh, hey, y/n!” Mark chirps happily from the bed, where John is doing up the tie on the back of his gown and waves. “What are you doing here?”
You ignore the boy to go right for Jaehyun, no holds barred, to shove his shoulder and berate him, “You are such a fucking asshole!”
Jaehyun grabs your hand and removes it from his chest when you try to shove it again, and he grits out, polite and professional, tilting his head over to the bystanders, “I’m with a patient.”
“I don’t care! I had to hear from fucking Solar that you rode a bike here?!” you snap, wrenching your fingers out of his grasp. “You rode a fucking bike?!”
His face crumples in a second, followed by his horrified whisper, “Oh, bug—,”
“You promised me you would never do that!” you shout in his face. He’s hurt you in an irreparable way by doing this. You can never forgive him for this, never.
You bulldoze him once more as the first tear careens down your face, and Mark’s shocked should she be doing that is drowned out by Jaehyun’s cry as his back hits the wall, “Ow, that hurt!”
“That hurt?!” You snarl back, feeling the burn of more tears as you get up in his face again, jabbing an angry finger into his chest to punctuate your aggression, “Oh, I’m glad it did! I’m glad it did, you deserve this for that! And I’m sure it would hurt less than anything that could’ve! happened! to! you!”
How could he do this, he knew this whole time why you asked him not to and had not given a shit about it, apparently.
You feel a hand close around your upper arm, and then you’re being fiercely dragged off Jaehyun with a stern warning, “We need to seriously de-escalate here. This is inappropriate for a hospital.”
Your rage intensifies when you see that it’s Yooa that’s grabbed you, in her athletic clothes… which means… no. You wrench her hand off of your arm, and turn all your ire to her, “You rode bikes here together?”
Her forehead goes wrinkled in confusion, like she can’t make logical sense of your reaction, which means she doesn’t know, and he never said. Her shoddy attempt at an excuse doesn’t do anything for you, “I mean, they were convenient? He was helping me move furniture and I don’t have a car, plus he then had rounds so we didn’t have time for the BART—,”
You whirl away from her - all these stunning tears dropped onto your face, the literal downpour of remembrance you thought he'd intercepted - and sob-shout right at him, “You knew! You knew he was on his bike when it happened and you still did it anyways!”
Yooa gasps. In your periphery, you catch her hands flying to cover her mouth in surprise and from behind you, you hear the twin yelps, one from Mark and one from John. The whole hospital might’ve heard you, but there’s only one person that matters.
Jaehyun knew that Doyoung died in a biking accident. He’d made the fourth rule.
A solitary tear slips down his face, and you’re sobbing so hard you can’t even hear his apology, “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry, I can’t even justify that, I’m unbelievably sorry, I know how much that hurt you.”
He saw you in the bathroom that time, he’d crawled under the stall when he found you! He has to have anticipated your reaction, that you’d just ran up here, literally sprinted, not because you were mad, but because you couldn’t be sure Solar had actually seen him here, that he’d actually made it to the hospital. The alternative, if he hadn’t…
Your hand hits his shoulder in a weak blow, the reserves of energy in your body cripplingly depleted, and you weep, “What would I have done if you died, Jae, I—, I can’t, I—.”
A blaring alarm goes off in an inferno of loud noise, and you scream in fear at the surprise. All you can conjure up is the ambulance wails that you hadn’t even heard but you’re sure were there. You’re cuddled in his arms in a second, face buried in his chest as the incessant siren continues to blare through the floor, with the automatic announcement, Code pink, floor three, we are calling a code pink. Everyone stay where you are until you are notified otherwise.
“What’s code pink?! Are we okay?!” John exclaims, fussing over his brother. You can’t answer, you can’t stop crying, you can’t see anything but the grey fabric of Jaehyun’s scrub top.
Yooa’s serene voice peals out from behind you somewhere, “Happens all the time, you can calm down. Missing child from the floor, almost always a parent that forgets to give a baby back to the nurse. We just need to hang in here until they check.”
Jaehyun’s stroking your hair, but nothing is working, you can’t feel a single thing in any of your limbs. You’re as shaky as a baby bird, if he wasn’t holding onto you, you might fall to the ground and never get up. You know you’re never going to stop crying, not after this, not after it feels like these tears were sprouted in the very cracks of your wounded heart.
He sinks to the floor to sit with you in his arms, and he holds you close, whispering right to you, “Shhhh, buggie, don’t cry like this, please. I’m so sorry.”
“You promised,” you cry, betrayed he’d even think of doing something so stupid, riding a bike for convenience’s sake. “We had four rules in our house, and you broke the most important one.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeats, fingers threading gently through your mussed hair.
“Wait, Doc, so the girlfriend, that was her?”
“That was you?!”
“Girlfriend?”
You can see the refrigerator clearly, the fading marks after the suns of time had worked their magic, his ugly signature next to your neat one. You had agreed on three rules, and he had insisted you make the fourth one the moment he saw how affected you were by the mention.
You’re mad at him, you’re furious and you’re heartbroken, you’d worked so hard with his help to never feel like this again. It is a carbon copy of that day, only somehow worse. This wasn’t an accident, this was on purpose, he made the choice on purpose despite knowing what he did. You clutch at him so tightly, disbelieving that he’s here, and you whimper, “You promised. What if you died and I had to lose both people that I love like that? I already lost one person I loved, what would happen to me if I lost another?!”
His fingers meander to the back of your head to help lift your gaze, and you obediently glance up at him through your tear-stained eyelashes as he entreats, “Hey, come on. Look at me. Nothing happened, I’m still here.” His other hand grasps yours and places your fingertips right over his chest, “Feel this, I’m here, I’m here with you, it’s okay.”
You couldn’t do that again, you couldn’t get the call, have to tell his grandmother, have to plan a second funeral, have to avoid anything peach because it reminded you of him. You couldn't start cooking for one again. You couldn’t, you couldn’t, you think you wouldn’t be able to survive that.
“I, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you died—,”
He nestles his nose right on your nose, his beautiful, alive face presses into yours, and he murmurs, “I’m fine.”
You feel the strong heartbeat echoing in the center of his chest, a solid, steady 2/4 time signature, unwavering, unfaltering, and there. His heartbeat is there. And then he kisses you, just one simple press of his mouth against yours, your noses brushing as he twists his head. That’s enough. He’s okay, Jaehyun’s okay.
“So.” Yooa’s soft, wise voice careens into your ear, “That’s why you ended things. You two were in love.”
You come out of this devastating emotional blackout and remember that you’re not alone. You had this breakdown in a very public location… you’d just… you’d kissed him in front of his… oh god, his fiancée. You shift in his lap, wiping your tears away as you prepare to see her enraged face. Yooa is only placidly staring at you two, intertwined together, and you deny her observation with a fast shake of your head, mouth too numb, too guilty to respond.
But, when you check... there’s no engagement ring on her finger.
You’re the only one out of the two of you who mute, apparently - Jaehyun responds, simple and in the opposite affirmative, “Yes. Or I was, at least.”
“No, no, I, I...” You fumble over the words - as Yooa nods in… understanding? - trying to find your bearings and get this all set right, “I think there’s been a huge mistake, we’re not in love.”
That’s not what this is, this isn’t. You have feelings for him, but you’re not in love with him, no? No way?
“You did… you did kind of say it.” John hesitantly breaks the plane of silence, awkward and fumbly as he parrots back your words, “Both people that I love.”
You don’t even remember doing that. You twist back to stare in Jaehyun’s eyes, you know he won’t lie to you, “Did I?”
He squeezes your fingers, and his grin is so cute in the moment. “Yeah.”
You might be the most foolish person ever.
You turn back to Yooa, knowing you shouldn’t be sitting in her fiancé’s lap, but not being able to leave, also knowing that you heard something you weren’t sure about, “What were you talking about he ended things? You’re going to DWB together.”
You’re about to say that you’re fairly confident Jaehyun did not break up with her, when she destroys that assumption in one go, “Jeff and I decided to amicably part ways as soon as we got to the new place. It was clear it wasn’t going to work on either end. Partially because I wanted to get back out of the country as soon as possible, back to my calling, my patients. And partially because… ” You know your jaw goes slack at the timeline, how long it’s been. She smiles tightly at the reaction, then looks over to the man holding you to finish the sentence.
When you glance to Jaehyun he’s smiling softly, he must’ve been this whole time, and he whispers right at you, “Because I realized I never wanted to leave SF again.”
Oh. You know it’s not just because he loves the city.
"I would like to apologize to both of you," he proclaims with no hesitation right after that, serious and straightforward and heartfelt swirled together. "I knew I owed my relationship a second chance, felt like my life would work out right. Then it only took one night for me to there was this whole other life I'd rather have instead. I thought I was crazy, because it was with a person I just met. How could I ever explain that?"
Jaehyun's right, it was a crazy thought. He'd been with one woman for twenty years, yet it took him a handful of months to - according to him - fall deeply in love with you. Then the original half of his heart returned and he felt obliged to venture for closure there, then he had no idea where he actually stood with you, then you'd been brutal in shooting him down - even for the most emotionally intelligent of persons, you can't imagine how frustrating and calamitous that had been for him to figure out.
“Once you get back to the possibility of a life here, admittedly, it’s hard to let go of. I thought we might run into some issues after a while,” Yooa acknowledges, straightforward enough not to deny her former partner his desires. “But I heard him crying in the bathroom the first night away from your house, and he put an end to things in the morning.”
Even though it’s such a serious discussion, you can’t help but silently giggle in disbelief at how dramatic that is. You think you might find him cute forever.
You feel him bristle with mock affront, then whine, “I… I’m an easy crier, what can I say?”
“You definitely are Doc, you cried after Smalls’s surgery!” John laughs, wanting to get in on the teasing, always the troublemaker trying to lighten the mood.
“You cried?!” Mark laughs, “Oh my god, I’m texting my friends about this. You’re a softie, Dr. Jung.”
Yes, that he is. He’s your soft, cute roommate.
Yooa doesn’t seem fazed by the emotion, and there’s this deep reservoir of gratitude for her, somehow, that she’s taken this so well when it should've been this deep, personal betrayal. But perhaps it is her straightforward personality that made it possible, because she admits, “Ultimately, I believe that being apart is what's best for us. My career reached new heights in my solitude, I realized this is my true passion, I want to help as many people as I can, I want to travel the world, and that’s just not what we wanted.” He nods at her and she nods back, then finishes, “I was waiting to hear back about my re-application this whole time and only added Jeff on as my attaché when he expressed interest after… I’m not sure. Sometime in late December?”
There’s only one day that could possibly be. You were separated by all this horrible circumstance for the past two months, and came together for one unforgettable day. It was so special to you. It must’ve been for him, too.
You press your hand into his chest and murmur, “Christmas.”
“Yeah, I finally… I don’t know. I felt, like, strange about it for the first time. Like I was in way, way too deep,” Jaehyun admits. You know exactly the feeling, sitting there, having Sungchan call you his wife, sharing that slice of cake together. Realizing that he was doing exactly what Doyoung would’ve done if he was alive when Winter brought her first boy home. You were in fully deep then.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” you ponder.
He shrugs. “How could I, after what you said to me about him? I only ever wanted to respect that, so I kept my distance.”
He's right, again. If he had confessed his love when she returned from her travels, you wouldn't have been able to take it seriously. You would've freaked out, finding it far too soon for him to have serious feelings, when you hadn't done any processing of your own. Or worse, you would've read it as a way to keep you hanging around while he figured things out with his wife. Plus, you were still far too fragile about the memory of your husband back then. You still don’t know if what you’re doing is right or wrong, you only know you can’t deny this any longer.
First, you have to make sure you wren’t the crazy person for being freaked out by it all, you offer up the moral dilemma that had probed your every waking thought since October, “You’re Doo’s best friend. You’re his best friend.”
It feels wrong, to be presented with the option of both of them and having to make a choice.
“I know, and I’m so happy about that. He was the best person,” Jaehyun says, so breathless and melancholy, another mist of pretty tears already inspired. You’ve been tethered to each other through Doyoung this whole time, perhaps it would be even more crippling if you were to deny that connection. You don’t know.
“Does that matter, though?” John once again interrupts, and holds up an awkward hand to get you to hear him out, “Listen, from all accounts your husband sounded like he was an amazing guy. So is Doc. What would it matter?”
Mark takes the opportunity to chime in with much humor, “Yeah, if you’re not going to go for my brother, at least go for second best.”
“Shut up!” John hisses, as his brother sticks his tongue out.
That just reminds you of what Wendy said at lunch that one time, that Doyoung would want you to date someone handsome and smart and funny, nice, good with kids, a doctor, all of that. But what she really meant is that he’d want you to be happy. And with Jaehyun, that’s what you are.
You’d been too overprotective of yourself. You’d put up walls that you didn’t have to, strengthened fortifications that only starved your feelings instead of protecting you. It was never your intention to fill that hole in your heart, not once had you set about finding a person specifically to be a replacement. It’d just happened, and it was just your luck that they're so similar. It’s a good thing.
Doyoung would want you to be happy. And it’s been so beautifully sunny out all week.
Code pink over. All clear and safe.
Trapped in this space by fateful circumstance, you all let out a tense laugh and relax, though Jaehyun does not let you go for a second. He continues to hold onto you for as long as he can, pressing a soft kiss right to your cheek. Yooa clears her throat at that, with how magnanimous she’s been in taking this you do not want to subject her to excessive PDA. You get off his lap as fast as you can, and nod in appreciation over to the woman.
She nods in return, then pulls out a mass of fabric from her pocket and prepares to depart, “Anyways, I was just here to say goodbye and clean out my locker. Thanks for letting me borrow your scrub cap since mine were packed.” He hadn’t given your gift to her. He was… he was being him. He was being nice. “I know you’ve been sleeping in the hospital to keep me comfortable, so thank you.”
Jaehyun's been sleeping in the hospital, you can't believe that. He has such a kind heart, even to the end. That’s what he and your husband shared the most.
“Thank you,” Jaehyun returns, but everyone knows it’s more than just for the caps.
Nobody is in the wrong here, you’re convinced of it. They’d been apart for three years, they hadn’t spoken, it made sense they were going to break up. With what you knew about her and her work ethic, you couldn’t imagine he would ever anticipate she would actually come back for him. They’d loved each other for the time they were together, and became their own people while they were apart. You suppose that it wasn’t a good fit after all. Wendy and Seulgi’s comments make sense now - he’s gentle and she’s intense, he wants a family and she wants her career, and all of that is amazing, but maybe not amazing together. You find it hard to assign the blame for that.
Even though you’ve just done that logic loop, you still apologize when she gets up to leave, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, it makes sense,” she says kindly, with much more grace and appreciation than you can ever imagine yourself having if it was in the reverse. You don't think any of you will be friends after this, though you're sure he'll send her his well wishes on holidays and appropriate occasions, maybe a Christmas card since he seems like the type to want to do that. But you know the three of you will look back on this time and be grateful for the lessons you learned at each others' hand.
Yooa gives one last nod your way, a smile to the man she’d almost shared her life with, and then she leaves, to begin the blossoming of her own chapter in life.
You and Jaehyun, Jaehyun and you. It makes sense.
“Bug,” he whispers, kissing your cheek as soon as she’s gone, unable to wait. “I have patients. I offered to take the last on call before my flight. Unless… you don’t want me to.”
You glance back at him in confusion, never being involved in his work scheduling before, “Take the on call?”
Jaehyun chuckles fondly, pushing away your hair so he can kiss you once more on the cheek, then hum the clarification, “Go to Cambodia.”
How is that even a question for him at this point? He’s so silly.
“No, I don’t want you to,” you affirm as you lean over to dot your own kiss upon his soft cheek, right above his freckle, relieved you get to do so again.
“Okay. Then I’ll see you on Sunday.”
He reaches for you again and pulls you into a sealing hug. Your face buries in his shoulder and you’re enveloped in the smell of his vanilla shampoo, the antiseptic scrub soap, and just him. You want to do this every day for forever. Just hugging him is enough, all you want to do is hug him.
Hug him is all you can do because you’re in public, and you’re with his patient, and you turn around to see Mark filming this. You both scramble up off the ground with horrified gasps, just as the siblings tease you about how they’re going to keep this video specifically for blackmail purposes. They are your funny friends for life - John doesn’t appear a single bit crushed, Mark looks healthy and at peace, and you are so glad that you know them.
Then, it’s your time to go. You take one last look at your…. he has to be your boyfriend, right? Your boyfriend is so cute, his dimples are shining, eyelashes glistening from the fallen tears, and he’s wearing a ladybug scrub cap. You’re in love with him.
Your heart feels light as you leave, sealed with the hilarious exchange your… boyfriend, your person, has with his patient.
“Dr. Jung, if you don’t seal the deal, my bro has no choice but to be Mr. steal yo girl!”
“If you bring that up again, I’m not helping you with your college essays. And you can kiss med school goodbye!”
—
You’re plunged into exceedingly alarming territory when Dr. Kim’s Porsche rolls into the driveway by his house and he turns off the Tchaikovsky symphony, which is his favorite. You should’ve known he’d hear, should’ve known when you left at the end of the day and he was waiting for you in the lobby, that he would want to talk about this.
Before he even says anything, you’re already apologizing, “Dr. Kim, I am so sorry about the scene I made in your hospital this morning, it’ll never happen again.” You can’t imagine the news reports would take it well, the second best hospital in the country’s CEO’s daughter-in-law making a scene over one of his doctors.
“Did you think I drove you home to scold you? Come on, y/n, I thought you would know me better than that,” Dr. Kim scoffs, teasing twinkle in his eye telling you that he’s serious about not being mad. He is downright jovial when he recounts your story like it’s an episode of reality TV he watched with his daughters, “What came through the grapevine was that you were screaming about a bike to Jeff, and then Shiah left for DWB alone? That sounds interesting.”
Interesting doesn’t even begin to cover half of it.
“He rode to the hospital on a bike,” you whisper, wishing you hadn’t worn dress pants. That way you could twist the fabric up into your hands to quell the nerves, as you look away from your husband’s father.
He’ll know exactly what it means. You don’t want him to be mad at you or at Jaehyun, to be as consumed with grieving rage as he was in the days after. When all he could do when he wasn't crying was bellow that he couldn’t believe his son took a bike after he always offered to drive you two in the Porsche.
But your husband’s kind father’s face cracks with realization when you finally gather up the courage to meet his eyes, that have gone all tearful, “Oh. You love him?”
You cough immediately, unable to stymie the surprise reaction to his straight and true assumption of the situation. You cough and cough and cough, not prepared to have this discussion this fast.
“I am so sorry,” you splutter in between hacking up your lung. “Dr. Kim, I’m so sorry.”
He rubs your back, trying to calm you down, and the moment goes placid, still silence descends over the car again. He takes this on a route that you never saw coming, “I didn’t want to bring this up ever, but you stopped calling me Pop. You never had to.”
The first time Doyoung had brought you home, you were intimidated - by their house, his family legacy, all of it. Then, they’d hugged you straight up and told you to call them anything other than Mrs. Kim and Dr. Kim. Seulgi and Winter used Mommy and Daddy, Wendy preferred Mama K and Papa K, and Doyoung called them Momma and Pop. So that’s what you chose.
“I didn’t think it was appropriate,” you explain. You’d only done it because of him, and after he was gone, it just… wasn’t right.
“Y/n, you are part of our family for forever. You loved my son and he loved you and we love you more than you know because of that. That will never change,” Dr. Kim… Pop, says, with as much care as his typically gruff voice can allow.
You know this is his way of trying to segue into his observations of what happened today. It is only here with him do you feel like you can ask the question that you’d been burdened with, “But don’t you think it feels wrong? Like I’m trying to replace him?”
“I’ve had that thought myself several times. Not in regards to you, but me,” he admits, fond smile crossing his face as he replays the past year. “Working on cases together like we did before Youngie switched to obstetrics, not being outnumbered in my own home by a legion of powerful women, seeing my girls laugh like that again. It felt… wrong at times. To be so happy he was around.”
“I know. That was all I could think about, that I was trying to paste him into a wound that could never heal.”
“But my boy and Jeff are just…. They’re fantastically different. And I think you know that, too.”
When you meet eyes with your husband’s father across the dash, you know what he’s said is undeniable truth. They are both great men, they share a plethora of admirable, enchanting qualities - sometimes to the point you thought they were brothers born apart. But they’re not twins, they’re not the same.
They don’t look the same, the obvious start - one lean and sharp with his look, the other, soft and peachy. One was loud and brash and popular, and the other, quiet and tender and emotional. One listened to classical music just like his father, and the other knew every lyric to every R&B song in his playlist. One hated flowers, and the other brought them home whenever he could. One of them built a shelf for your shoes but never purchased any because that’s your thing, love. The other… bought you ladybug Louboutins.
They worked together through the planes of time to fix your oven. They both loved you.
The beautiful closing rainbow on this poignant discussion is Pop’s rhetorical question, “Is it really so bad, to have a person around that only reminds us of the beautiful times?”
You sniffle, one lone tear dripping down your face as you look out the car window and the stunning sunset comes into view. It’s nothing but soft lilac and hazy pink and midnight blue, plus one lone stroke of fiery red - Jaehyun’s favorite color, and the shade of his old hair, plus the hue Doyoung had dyed his locks, and his favorite color.
“I don’t think my wife and the girls know, but I could tell.”
“How?”
“Your macaroni and cheese tasted different at Christmas. Like it was happy,” he says. You suppose even if you were separated then, all you could think of was Jaehyun and your first date when you made it. How could that not make you happy? “Want me to be there when you tell them?”
You nod. You’ve been waiting so long to do this and you can’t wait anymore. You want them to know. Now that Pop knows, and it is nowhere close to the carnage you’d been anticipating, you want the whole world to know that you’re Jaehyun’s girl.
So side by side, in soft camaraderie, you and your husband’s father enter the house together, slip off your shoes, and go tiptoeing by the den where the Kim ladies are watching TV. They’re totally engrossed in the Bachelor rerun, and do not notice you. Even Sungchan is there, bowl of popcorn discarded, hand gripped over Winter’s as they wait for the final pick.
“I’m dating Jaehyun,” you announce, no anticipation, no build up.
Not a single person inside registers the announcement. No one turns except for Wendy, who does it to silence you, “Sorry, shh, this is the final rose.” She turns back to the screen as the Bachelor debates between the girl in the green and the girl in the brown, she could not care less about what you have to say.
Pop laughs, and you giggle, then shout it again, as loud as you possibly can, “I’m dating Jaehyun!”
That gets their attention in one slam dunk of a move. Those who previously ignored you are now positively gaping, eyes bugged out of their heads, mouths dropped, frozen like statues because you know they’re thinking there’s no way they heard you right.
What makes you cackle, is that Seulgi is the one to react first, and in this very crude, shocked manner, “Shut the fuck up. No, you are not.” You nod, feeling the burning blush, and she turns right to a gobsmacked Wendy, “Did you know?”
Wendy’s mouth opens and closes at least three times, trying to formulate an answer, then she slaps her wife’s hand and curses back, “No, I didn’t fucking know! Did you?!”
“No!” Seulgi cries, turning to the youngest sibling, “Win?!”
Winter has crossed her arms to go with her mock pout, you can tell she’s trying hard to hold in her laughter. She points at you with a snarl, then loses it laughing, “I had biggest crush on him of all time. You lucky bitch.” Middle school Winter who made Jaehyun banana bread every day is probably stabbing your voodoo doll right now.
“Hey, I’m right here!” Sungchan whines, pushing his girlfriend away from him in false offense before he looks at you in total confusion, “And I thought you said you weren’t his wife.”
“I’m not,” you affirm, before you feel the girly need to tack on, “not yet.”
Because truthfully, you know it’s only a matter of time and you’re okay with it. You’re more than okay with it. He is the kind of person who wants to be married and have a family, and you are the kind of person who wants to be married and have a family. It’s not an if, it’s a when.
“Oh my god, she said not yet about being his wife, this is for real, hallelujah!” Wendy sings praises like you’ve just brought her the lord’s true testimony with that confession. She fixes you with a spicy grin right after and begins to poke her snivelly little hands around, “Did it happen after that girls’ night? Did it? We kept talking about kissing and you said you were dating someone right after.”
You hear Dr. Kim’s cough of surprise behind you, and you go flaming red, “Yes.”
“I can get drunk at the wedding this time!”
Winter’s hilarious comment is muffled by Mrs. Kim’s loud sob. She’d been lost in all this, all her girls’ excitement had distracted you from her reaction - which was to bury her face in her hands and start absolutely sobbing. She’s not a sobber, she’s the quintessential elegant crier. But not now, now you’re talking the full blown honking into her handkerchief, wailing, and pushing Seulgi away when she tries to comfort her with a soppy, Mommy. Oh no, Mommy, don’t cry.
“Momma, I don’t want to upset you, I apologize for springing this on you like this. That was very inconsiderate of me,” you make amends right away, no laughing or anything further to upset her.
Using that old nickname only makes her cry harder.
“I just. I just need a moment. I need a moment,” she excuses herself before it escalates into full blown hysterics, and all of you give her her space to do so. She disappears into another room, and you feel bad that she’d been so upset. You’ll have a nice chat with her in private if she wants.
You get whiplash when Seulgi peeks to make sure her mother can’t hear, then is the first one to demand, “I want to know everything. Everything, everything.”
“Pop is right there,” you grit out between your teeth, shifting your eyeballs in the direction their father is standing. You know everything means everything. And you can’t say that here.
“I want to hear!” he whines, poking you in the side as he goes to sit with his girls, kissing Seulgi on the forehead, fist bumping Wendy, and cuddling Winter into his side as he waits for you, like, hello, get to it.
You flush with the returning memories, what you haven’t allowed yourself to think about since you’d ended things, all the wonderfully lovely circumstances that led you to falling in love with Jaehyun.
“We ran into each other at Loveholic on Valentine’s Day,” you murmur, tucking your chin into your shoulder at the rush of goosebumps inspired by the serendipity. Thank god you’d never left the restaurant. You may have met him after, in fact, you’re sure you would have, but the restaurant was where it all began. “They were trying to kick him out because he was going against his reservation, and I… I just sat down with him. I had no idea who he was because he didn’t look like any of their pictures. And you're right. I got drunk that girls’ night and I just… I kissed him. And he told me he wanted to kiss me the very first minute we met."
You had no idea who he was that first day and you still found him cute enough to kiss.
“Oh my god, of course you get two epic love stories,” Winter sighs, like she’s reading a page from a romance novel. You’ve simply gotten lucky, you’re so lucky to have found two wonderful men in the same lifetime.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
Seulgi’s soft query snaps your attention back to the living room, where Momma is emerging into the hallway from another room. Her handkerchief is still dabbing at her cheek, and there's something tucked into her other hand. She gestures for you all to sit down, and goes right to the spot by her husband and her youngest daughter, snuggling them up into a hug to make herself feel better.
“I’m so sorry, everyone, I needed to get that out,” she apologizes tearfully, still crying but not overwhelmed anymore. “I just. Sometimes you get the reminder the world keeps turning with you in it. Anyways, I think you know, after it happened, that… We got the stuff in his office.”
The police hadn’t needed to do it, and you were in no state of mind to complete the task. So Pop had gone to the obstetrics floor and cleaned out his son’s office so the next attending could have it. When they tried to pass it off to you, you’d steadfastly denied, because you just couldn’t. The stuff you kept in the box at the empty apartment was already too much, you couldn’t handle more.
“Yes, I never wanted to see it,” you whisper.
“Look what he kept on his desk. I think he would be happy to know you found each other.”
That phrasing already has you half stiff, half softened with confirmation. You’re curious to know what exactly had convinced her that this was meant to be the second time around. Over the back of the couch, she holds out what she’d been holding as she emerged from her bout of grieving. You can tell from here that it’s a two sided picture frame.
And when you see it, oh, your heart is splintered so beautifully in two different ways, an artful spectacle of sentimentality and perfect coincidence.
On one side is your wedding photo, the exact one you have in your house, with the watermark and your hands in the air and the undeniable bliss. And in the other side, what makes you laugh in a watery gasp of delight, is a picture of the Stanford white coat ceremony. A pink head of hair, a black head of hair, two crescent smiles - one with dimples, one without. The fresh faces of youth determined that they were going to change the world together.
And at the very bottom, in Doyoung’s block handwriting just as you’d remembered, is the caption. White coats w Jeffrey boy!
Your sweet husband knew what he was doing, putting this up.
—
The man that opens the door looks so much like Jaehyun you falter for a second. The face shape is literally copied and pasted, down to the dimples that appear when he frowns, which you suppose might be a sign.
Because he doesn’t open with politeness, he just barks out, “Who’re you?”
“My name is y/n, thank you for asking. Is your mother home?” you politely inquire from Jaehyun’s father as you peek into the family’s home, a standard suburban house that you’d gotten the address to from Doyoung’s phone.
I’m ready honey, let me just get my purse! A call comes from inside the house, and the man huffs so loudly you jump back, startled, and do so again when he bellows, “Mother, do not leave the house with this stranger!”
In a flourish, like she’s a stylish angel descending from heaven, Jaehyun’s grandmother appears in her cowl neck sweater and sunglasses, bag draped over her arm. She simply waves her son away and steps past him to join you on the front step, “You’re not the boss of me, I’m not one of your employees. And be polite, son, this is your daughter-in-law.”
“That’s not Shiah,” he spits your way, before interrogating his mother, wildly gesturing as he discusses you as if you’re not there. “Who is this person, she’s clearly not a doctor.”
“Jaehyun would never care about that,” Grammie retorts, having no problem arguing in defense of her grandson. You can just imagine what it was like, growing up here. The man winces when she uses the wrong name, and she digs in the point even further, “And if you knew him, you would know that she wasn’t right for him no matter how much you liked her.”
“Jeffrey is the most goddamn useless boy,” he swears.
“No, he’s pretty wonderful,” you say out of nowhere, shocked that you’d even spoken up to defend him.
Your plan that you agreed on over the phone with Grammie when you called with the surprise plan was that you’d come here, make no attempt at conversation, pick her up and go. But you can’t just leave it like this. You can’t not defend your boyfriend even a little. You could detail all these lovely things about him, how handsome he is, that he’s giving and caring and emotionally intelligent, but you know that the man wouldn’t care. So you pull out from your bag what you’d printed out, intending to slip it under the door, and shove it into older Dr. Jung’s hands instead. It’s the New England Journal of Medicine article with his son’s portrait in the corner - huge block letters spelling out Artificial Sternum Extension Paired Ribcage Expansion Prior to Double Lung Transplant Technique at the top, with the prouder ones underneath, Jaehyun Jung, M.D., F.A.C.S.
You don’t give a shit how the man reacts, you’ve proved your point alone with that. That’s not useless. That saved a precious life.
You nod your head, let Grammie take your arm, and make your polite exit, “Good day, sir.”
You get in the car and you have to take a moment to calm yourself since you’re just so enraged, but it’s fine. It’s fine, it’ll be fine in less than thirty minutes. It’s nine-thirty, Jaehyun is free at ten, that’s all you have to wait.
“He really ended things with her, huh? Just like that?”
You almost get into a collision on the freeway when Grammie gets right into the conversation, not holding back. You know you’re going to be under the microscope here, better make yourself ready. You nod, not taking your eyes off the road, “Apparently so. I still haven’t gotten a chance to ask about it.”
“I figured. To me, it always seemed like they were together because it was convenient for them both. Don’t get me wrong, she was a nice and smart girl.” You look at her in surprise. You would’ve expected more attachment to his relationship of twenty plus years, but you suppose everyone saw the same thing. She gives you a pointed look and her words are designed for you to read in between, “But nice and smart are not the only things you want for your grandson.”
You blush, and deny the compliment. “You’re being too much.”
“She never called like you did. That’s not being too much,” she reveals. “How long have you loved him?”
You hadn’t said anything when you called, but apparently it’s been obvious this whole time. It’s not hard for you to pinpoint the moment, “Since the summer. I had a moment... where I went right back to the day of. He crawled under a bathroom stall and waited until I could get up.”
That's when you knew you could be okay about it all. He’d talked you up with his sweet heart, and you were his after that.
She sighs, lingering stress evident in her elegant face after the encounter with her son. Her features are even more like her grandson's as it’s clear she shares all his kindness, “He’s always been like that. Just the sweetest, most emotional boy.” She looks right at you after that, the most austere stare palpable even as you drive, and prompts, “He’ll be good to you. Will you be good to him?”
You don’t know if he told her about what happened in October, if she blames you, if she’ll see that as a pointed slight against him, but you know you’ll make up for that for eternity.
“Yes. I will,” you swear, on your heart, on his, on the love you share. “I’ll be so good to him, I, I’ll be better to him than he is to me, a thousand times more.”
“And you see this as a serious relationship?”
“I see this as a forever relationship, if I’m being honest. Which I think… you know how much that means.”
All the severity melts out of her face at that. She knew Doyoung, she must’ve loved him as much as her grandson. And by you admitting that - that you could see yourself getting married to someone after you had already been married to the love of your life - she can recognize the gravity of your commitment.
“One more thing, may I?” she asks, and because of that, you know it’s going to be a particular, hurtful question.
But you’re ready. “Of course.”
“You must’ve had dreams with Dodo bird, right, what your future would look like and all of that. Did that change? Or did you erase it all to start anew?”
Jaehyun had asked you a similar question once, and you didn’t know how to answer. But it’s so easy for you now, you don’t even know why you’d struggled in the first place.
Your fingers grip the steering wheel extra tight, you need just one second to close your eyes on this highway to heaven. You can see it, a little one that looks just like the two of you - with your hair and his bunny smile - the child messing up your shoes on the rack, childproofing the apartment since it was too adult for a little toddler, bringing the boy into work and having him sit on your desk, having as a trio lunch in the cafeteria.
You paint the picture for her that you’ve kept to yourself for so long, the life you thought you’d live, one that will remain in your heart as a pristine sunset of a dream, “The life was always set, I’d work at the hospital with my husband, publish a cookbook with my family recipes, live in the fancy penthouse we own, have a little boy when it was time.”
Your eyes shutter closed for one more second, and this picture is just as clear. The walls of the place are bright pink on the outside, and there are two screaming voices on the inside. The little boy looks just like you, all of your quiet seriousness in his face, and the girl is his twin. There’s a fresh bouquet of daisies in the vase at the entryway, and the kitchen smells like peaches.
“Now, I’d work at the hospital with my husband, publish a cookbook that has a peach-blackberry cake in it,” you murmur, meeting her eyes with such gratitude, that recipe of hers truly changed everything. “And we’d live in this little, colorful house in the suburbs. Have a boy… and a girl. Geniuses, just like their dad.”
That’s all you have to say to know that Jaehyun’s grandmother approves. She knows his dream, knows him. All your words have done is convince her that you’ve melded your dreams together into one beautiful sunrise.
Speaking of sunrise, the sun is already shining brightly in the sky by the time you park in the hospital lot - quite crookedly you might add, due to your excitement. You can’t help it, you’ve spotted someone in grey scrubs and a ladybug scrub cap already waiting on the bench in front of the hospital.
He said he would see you on Sunday, and it’s Sunday and you’re here for him.
You get out of the car, walk right over to Jaehyun, and realize he’s fallen asleep on the bench, looking so cute with his mouth open like that. You nudge his foot slightly with yours, and he jolts awake, half lidded eyes fluttering as he looks up to you, grin spreading across his face in less than a second.
“Hi. Do you need a ride somewhere? You look like you just got off a long shift,” you tease.
“Well, I don’t have a car or a BART pass. And biking is absolutely out of the question,” he pesters, light and wonderful and so relieved he can joke about it. You laugh, and all of a sudden his eyes go all obsidian, voice deepening with this sleepy sexiness, “But are you going to let me kiss you properly first or no. I’ve been thinking about that and that only for the past forty eight hours.”
Your nose wrinkles with so much heated affection for him, but you deny with a serious shake of your head, “No.”
“No?” He groans, getting up to crowd right into your space, try to tempt you out of it, “I know we need to talk and stuff, but please….”
“No,” you rebuff him once more, stepping out of range and holding up two fingers. “Two reasons, you ready?”
Jaehyun scoffs, but he can’t hide his smile as he crosses his arms and challenges, “Give me your best.”
“One, because I have to tell you first that you were never a replacement to me,” you confess, dropping the teasing and the flirting for blunt honesty. You’d spent this whole weekend ruminating on how you wanted to make your feelings known, and the most important thing was to demonstrate that your past hangup wasn’t something that itched at your heart anymore. “I want to be honest and say that if he was here, I’d still pick him even if that’s not the choice you would make. That’s something about me that’ll never change.”
In another world, when you’d met Jaehyun after marrying your husband, you don’t think it would’ve ever been a conflict for you. He’d be your husband’s friend and that was it, you don’t think it would’ve even been possible to be anything but platonic. And if Doyoung were to come back now, you know for certain he would be the one that you would want to be with. That’s just a part of you now, a fundamental stitch in the quilt of who you are.
Jaehyun knows that about you better than anyone, and he graciously concedes the point, “I would want you to.”
“But I have come to a place where I’ve accepted that he never is.” You don’t feel a single lick of pain as you say it, only acceptance of the fact. Then, you look into the face of the man you’ve fallen in love with, and you tell him, “But just the same, you are not a second choice, you are a conscious one. I want you, I do.”
Jaehyun is not a replacement, not a substitute or a stand-in. He’s his own man, he has his own life, and all he serves to do now is frame all the memories you have of your husband in beautiful context. You want him for him, and that’s it.
“Okay,” he accepts, no qualms or drawbacks. He must be tired and one track minded all at once, he doesn’t even try to argue or belabor the point, he just tries to bring his smiley mouth to yours.
You squeal and jump out of his hold, yelping, “I said two reasons!”
He doesn’t care you have your stipulations. He gets his hands on you again, fingers settling so nice and warm on your waist, holding you but not kissing you yet, as he patiently prepares for what's to come, “Tell me, bug.”
“You can’t kiss me because I know you’re going to do so in a very inappropriate manner. And your grandmother is right there.”
“Wha—,” He’s brought his face close enough to you that his nose crashes into yours when he looks up in surprise. You’re treated to the stunning image of his face breaking apart in the purest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen, like he’s a little boy again. He hops up and down and waves, “Grammie! Grammie, Grammie! Hi!”
She crosses her arms in front of her with a knowing grin as she leans on the hood of your car, and she very loudly and pointedly yells, “Your girlfriend is a very nice young lady! Let me talk her ear off on the ride up from home!”
He loses control and kisses you anyways - not inappropriate, not lewd, just a genuine note of true love as your mouths meet once again. He kisses your cheek, hugs you, such a flurry of exuberant emotion, and whispers against your hair, “I love you, like, an insane amount.”
“I know,” you murmur. “I love you more.”
He peels off you with such a shocked little face, unable to believe that he heard you confess to it that simply. Your face scrunches with all your love for him, and you nod and kiss his cheek before you grab his shoulders, push him towards your car. You watch Jaehyun run and leap to hug his grandmother, so happy he lifts her off the ground while she laughs, and you just know your life is going to end up okay.
tbc (for the final time!)