31.

“I want to meet your mom.”

The brunette blinked.

She looked up, her hazel orbs locking with her lover’s brown ones.

“What?”

Sehun ran his fingers through her soft hair, a smile playing on his lips.

“You heard me.”

Rei sat up, “Why?”

Sehun raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t it normal for a boyfriend to want to meet his girlfriend’s parents?”

She didn’t know. She never had a boyfriend before. Dating and falling in love weren’t part of her past. Men only used her (as she used them). Relationships weren’t meant for her. Not her. After all, who’d want to have a as their significant other? No one. No one would. That’s what she used to think. That’s how she used to see herself. That was until Sehun came along and changed her life completely. (For the better.)

He made her see her worth. He taught her how to love and be loved. He made her happy. Truly happy. He accepted her. He cared for her. He loved her. And despite all of her flaws and shortcomings, he was willing to be a part of her life. He was willing to stay.

He was willing to stay.

Sehun gently cupped her face with his hands, “I want you to know that I’m serious about us Rei.”

He brushed his thumb along her cheek, “I’m with you for the long run.”

She couldn’t help but smile, his words filled her with an indescribable warmth.

Was it be happiness? Yes. Yes it was.

Sehun mirrored her smile and kissed her forehead.

Indeed it was.

The young man awoke with his lover curled next to him. He propped on an elbow and admired her honey-colored hair streaming around her face. With the tip of his finger he traced over her pouty pink lips, ones he’d never get tired of kissing.

Her lashes lay against her rosy cheeks. Her mesmerizing blue orbs remained hidden behind her eyelids. She truly was a sight to behold. And she was all his.

His to love,

To cherish,

And to care for.

His and his alone.

In this moment, he knew that he was the luckiest man on earth.

Lucky to have such a sublime being as his significant other,

Lucky to have her in his life,

Lucky to have her by his side,

Lucky to be the object of her affection and love,

Lucky,

That’s what he was,

A terribly lucky man.

The young man leaned down, kissed her nose, and brushed his lips across hers in a light butterfly kiss.

Emma sighed, and her eyes fluttered open.

Kai smiled, “Morning beautiful.”

Emma moved against him and rested her head on his arm, gazing up at him with a smile of her own, “Morning.”

She was finally his.

They were finally together.

“I love you.”

His heartbeat increased. How he loved hearing her say that. Hearing those three words come out of made him extremely happy. The happiest he’s ever been.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, “I love you too.”

More than you can imagine,

More than words can say.

Kai lifted her chin and kissed her, lovingly, tenderly. Like a girl like her should be kissed. Like she deserved to be kissed.

“You’re mine, now and forever.”

He kissed her left cheek,

“I’ll take care of you.”

Her right cheek was next,

“I’ll give you the happiness you deserve.”

Then her forehead,

“From now on it’s us against the world.”

And finally her lips.

Emma couldn’t help but like the sound of that.

“Son.”

A smile played on the old man’s face as soon as he saw his dear boy.

Sehun had been stopping by to visit on the weekends. The two men would then have dinner together while sharing some light conversation. His father would give him some much needed advice (work related or not). And the young man would attentively listen, absorbing every word and meaning.

“Dad.”

The latter mirrored his smile.

“How’ve you been?”

Sehun sat across from him on the couch, “Not bad you?”

His father’s smile slightly wavered, “Slowly getting there.”

A minute of silence passed by.

“I really loved your mother you know.”

Sehun looked up at the old man who had a distant look on his face, his mind racing through the memories he had shared with his late wife.

“She was everything to me.”

My best-friend,

My love,

My all.

“But now that she’s gone, I-”

He was choking on his own voice. He could not speak. The pain was too much to handle. The thought of her hurt too much. The thought of her not being here, by his side suffocated him to no end. Mr. Oh tightly closed his eyes and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He missed her. Oh how much he missed her and needed her. He opened his eyes and stared at his son, tears glistening within them, “I just feel so lost without her.”

So lost,

So empty.

Sehun gulped, his mother’s death had always been a sensitive topic.

“I know I haven’t been a good father,” I let you down one too many times, he gave him a tearful smile, “or husband for that matter.”

Sehun didn’t know what to say. Disagreeing would be a lie. A big fat lie. His father had never been there for him. He’d always put his work first. His family second. He wasn’t a father. He never acted like one. He never did.

“I missed out on a lot didn’t I?”

Yes,

Yes, you did.

“I’m sorry.”

His son’s eyes widened. His father has never apologized before. Not once did he regret his actions. Maybe he did. Maybe he always did. But Sehun was too blind to see. Or to care.

“I know apologizing doesn’t change anything,”

It doesn’t,

It really doesn’t.

“But I truly am sorry son.”

Wasn’t this what he always wanted?

What he always needed?

Hearing his father’s apology.

Yet, it didn’t make him feel any better. Not like he hoped it would. It didn’t make him happy. Seeing his father in this weak and fragile state made him sad. It made his heart ache. He looked so small. Not like the self-assured and authoritative man he used to fear and defy.

He looked regretful. Apologetic. Ashamed. Hurt. Almost human. No. He was human. A perfectly flawed man. Just like the rest of us.

“All this while I thought I was looking out for you,” he took his son’s hand, “but I wasn’t,” I wasn’t. I never was, “I was only pushing you away,” pushing you even further away from me, “I had seen your mother struggle to make a name for herself. I had seen her tears, her pain, her many disappointments,” he squeezed Sehun’s hand, “I just didn’t want the same for you.”

I didn’t want you to suffer.

“I just wanted to protect you,” from the world, from everything, “to keep you safe,” but I was doing such a lousy job at that, wasn’t I? “Instead I ended up preventing you from living, from experiencing the world by yourself, from being happy, from making your own choices.”

“Life is about making your own mistakes and learning from them,” another squeeze, “And I took that away from you.”

Sehun blinked back tears.

“I’m so sorry son.”

So, so sorry.

His father sighed, “I should’ve asked you what you wanted to do,” I should have.

(I should have.)

“Instead of assuming I knew better when I clearly didn’t,”

When I clearly don’t.

“Instead of deciding on your behalf.”

Sehun looked down at their hands, sadness overwhelming his senses, “Dad.”

The latter shook his head.

Don’t,

I need to say this,

I need to.

“What do you want to do son?”

Never once had his father asked him what he wanted. He’d always assume. Sehun’s opinions never mattered. His likes and dislikes were never taken into consideration. His father decided for him. His father called the shots. Never him. Not even once. But now. Now, he’s asking him. He’s letting him decide. He’s letting take control over his life.

“Don’t worry about the company. If you don’t want to manage it then don’t.”