“Byeol-ah…” Auntie looks as if she’s seen a ghost.

 

“I don’t know the specifics myself,” I tell her honestly. “But satisfying my empty stomach is more important.”

 

Auntie smiles awkwardly and nods. “Take a seat. I’ll bring food out quickly.”

 

Like usual, we pick a table in the back corner and sit around it.

 

“It’s been a long time,” dad reminisces as he looks around the old restaurant. This used to be dad’s favourite place before he became… ill. He would bring me over frequently for meals whenever he felt active enough to not just call for takeout. The table falls into an uneasy silence. Stealing glances between Namjoon and dad, questions run wild in my mind.

 

 

“I’ll explain later,” Namjoon suddenly whispers into my ear. I look up at him blankly, too lost in thought to realise that he’d once again read my mind accurately.

 

“How’s the room?” I ask dad out of nowhere. “I’ve kept it pretty clean, haven’t I?”

 

His silence shatters glass in my heart. I ask doubtfully, “You… haven’t gone home yet?” Again, I assume his silence means consent.

 

Auntie comes at the perfect timing to hide my embarrassment, presenting dad’s usual dishes at the table.

 

“Thank you.” Dad’s voice could barely be heard.

 

“Thank you, we’ll eat well,” I repeat on his behalf. Auntie acknowledges with a slight nod and disappears back into the kitchen. Putting on my best smile, I say, “Let’s eat!”

 

Hesitantly, dad picks up his chopsticks. Being the eldest at the table, we wait for him to start. He pauses in the middle of reaching towards a dish when he realises we’re not moving. Namjoon smiles at him and gestures for him to continue. Seated between Namjoon and dad, I don’t know if I should feel the comfort of family or the burden of not knowing how to react. I decide to just not feel anything and casually put a piece of meat into dad’s bowl of rice. He looks at me with so much gratefulness in his eyes I’m caught off guard. Awkwardly looking away, I put an egg roll into Namjoon’s bowl. I glance at Soo and she catches my signal, picking up her pair of chopsticks. Then, as if some seal has been broken, everyone starts eating as if the awkwardness just now hadn’t happened.

 

“You must be very curious about so many things,” dad says suddenly, setting down his spoon.

 

“Let’s eat first then talk about it at home, okay?” I don’t know if I can handle a possible breakdown in somewhere so public. Dad nods, but makes no movement to continue eating so I, too, drop my chopsticks.

 

“I need a coffee.”  I stand, but Soo waves me down.

 

“I’ll go,” she volunteers. Side glancing at Namjoon, he too stands. Together they leave for the nearby café.

 

“I’m sorry,” dad apologises again. How many times have it been now? How’s anyone supposed to respond in situations like this? I choose to remain silent. Dad looks at me with a gaze full of sorrow and slowly reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. My eyes widen at the familiar writing of my own hand. 

 

“This is…” How is this with him? I swear I had thrown it away. On the floor… in dad’s room… just before Namjoon had crashed in there. I mentally slap myself. Namjoon had found my letter and took it into his own hands to deliver it. Has he read it? I cuss myself – of course he had! With shaky hands, I unfold the dirtied letter sitting on the table.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’d even put it into an addressed envelope before I ended up crushing the whole thing and throwing it into a corner of the room. Should I be relieved that Namjoon had passed this to dad on my behalf, or be mad that he took the matter into his own hands?

 

Namjoon comes back with an iced caramel macchiato.

 

“He was already planned to be release on parole,” Namjoon says as he pokes the straw into the drink for me. He notices my conflicted expression and quietens down.

 

“Dad…” Talk about keeping a distance. How am I supposed to tell him about my relationship with Namjoon now?

 

“He loves you,” dad says, glancing at Namjoon. “You take responsibility of your own feelings. I’ve already interfered enough with your life.”

 

“You’re not… you’re okay with us being together?”

 

“I’m no longer the clouded old man I was a year ago, Byeol. I’m not blind enough to not see the sparks flying between you two.” He takes my hand in his wrinkled, roughened ones.

 

“I promise I’ll take good care of her,” Namjoon says, now seated up straight.

 

“Words are meaningless if you don’t prove them through actions, young man. I’ve been to jail once and I don’t mind going in again if you do anything to make my daughter cry.”

 

Namjoon stiffens and I elbow him. “Relax, he’s joking. Besides, dad, I trust him.”

 

“Good, that’s good.” Dad nods in satisfaction. “Now let’s finish this meal because I’m famished!”

 

I smile up at Namjoon, and he returns the gesture. Between laughter and chatter and noisy chewing, I allow myself to let loose and relax in the comfort of family – my family.

---