The aroma of freshly baked pancakes and bacon wafts throughout the house. While you and your husband, Taemin, busily prepare breakfast, your daughter, Minhee, is surrounded by boxes that contain forgotten photographs.

Minhee carefully goes through each box, taking each photograph into consideration before choosing the ones she wants to use to make a special collage for the family. Carefully, she places the box back in your closet. She almost closes the door when a white box with flower delicate flower decals catches her eye. Her head turns towards the door to make sure the coast is clear before reaching up and pulling the box down along with its thin blanket of dust.

With a sneeze, the box slips from her hands and lands on the floor with a thud. The contents spill across the floor, revealing forgotten photographs and handwritten letters. She curses to herself and drops to her knees and hurriedly places everything back in the box. Though her hands move faster than her mind, she stops herself from placing a picture back into the box.

Minhee brings the photo closer to her face, her eyes concentrating on the glossy paper. She gently holds the photograph in her hands and sits back on her knees. The photograph shows a young boy sitting in the sun with a juice box wedged tightly between his small hands. He smiles bright enough to challenge the sun as blotches of red juice stains paint his shirt. 

She smiles back at the young boy. The more she stares back at the young boy, the more her smile fades. Her brows reflect her deep thought as she searches her stack of kept photographs. Her fingers move quickly through the pile. The sting of paper cuts doesn’t hinder her pace as she finds the photograph.

Minhee’s heart pounds with confusion and anxiousness as she slowly brings the photograph from the pile and the one of the young boy side by side. The eyes, cheekbones, smile, and mannerisms are too similar to ignore. She dares herself to turn the photograph of the young boy around to see “Kim Jonghyun - 1994” written on the back, its lettering faded.

The name Jonghyun bounces throughout her mind like a pinball. She remembers stories you, her father, and your friends told of your dear friend. Her eyes scan the photographs once more. The more she stares, the more she begins to see the same face twice.

“Minhee!” Taemin calls from the bottom of the stairs. “Come eat! And hurry up cause we’re starving!”

“O-Okay!” She yells, her eyes never leaving the photographs.

She looks around the room and stares at a picture of her and Taemin when she was younger - both smiling brightly while she sits on his shoulders. The memory causes her to smile before turning back to Jonghyun’s photograph. Her heart pings at the realization that she looks more related to Jonghyun than her father.

The choice to confront her parents or not makes her heart beat faster as she remains still, paralyzed with the weight of each decision. If she confronts you, there’ll be a risk of you lying or scolding her for going through your belongings. If she doesn’t confront you, she risks her questions consuming her until she snaps.

The sound of her name being called again snaps her alert as she quickly places the rest of the photographs into the box and places it back into the closet. She grabs her photographs, placing them in the back of her pocket, and hurries downstairs where the fragrance of blueberry pancakes become more prominent.

--

Jonghyun’s photograph burns in Minhee’s pocket as she tries her best to ignore it and participate in her parents’ conversation. Her troubled mind takes away her appetite. Lazily, she pushes her food around the plate as her cheek rests against her propped hand.

“Minnie?” Taemin places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You aren’t eating. Are you sick?”

Taemin presses the back of his hand to her forehead. The familiarity of his touch makes her softly smile and shake her head. His eyebrows furrow with worry when he notices the distant look in her eyes.

“Is something bothering you?” He gently presses in a whisper.

Unable to contain her burning question, Minhee loudly groans while pressing her face in her palms. Her frustration pulls you and Taemin to exchange a look before rushing to her side. You begin to instinctively rub a nurturing circle on her back. The shudders of her breaths vibrate against your palm. A moment passes before she lifts her head. Pieces of her hair latch to the trail of tears on her face until Taemin brushes them back.

“What’s going on, Minhee?” You ask.

“I was going through the photo albums and found this.” Minhee reaches in her pocket. Her fingers slightly tremble as she places the photographs of her and Jonghyun on the table. “We look so much alike. He and I.”

Your eyes fall on the photographs. “Minhee,” you whisper, your voice slightly cracking. “Where did you find this?”

“The photo box in the back of your closet.” She looks between you and Taemin with curious eyes. “It’s probably just a coincidence, right?”

Taemin remains silent. He looks from Minhee to you, who’s gazing down at the photographs, your eyes darting back and forth. He calls your name softly and regains your attention.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Minhee raises her voice. Tears well in her eyes as she desperately looks between you for an answer. 

“Jong,” you clear your throat. Taemin stops you mid-sentence and asks if you’re sure. With a soft smile, you nod and return your attention to Minhee. “Jonghyun is your father.”

Your forwardness causes Minhee to tilt her head in confusion. She looks to Taemin to break the tension with a “haha, we got you!”, but none comes. Instead, he gazes past her and nods for you to continue as he places a comforting hand on her back.

“We wanted to wait until the right time to tell you.”

“When was I going to know?” Minhee loudly asks. “When I died?” She stands from the table, pushing her chair back with a “scrt”.

“Minhee, it’s more complicated than that.”

“How hard is it to say “Hey, the man you’ve known all your life as your father isn’t really your father?”

Taemin’s face contorts in pain at Minhee’s question. His saddened eyes gaze up at his little girl and feel helplessness wash over him at the fact that he didn’t know how to comfort her. How can you help mend a newly broken hurt?

You stand to your feet and clench your jaw. “Taemin is your father, Minhee. How can you say such a thing?”

The tears that have been welling in her eyes finally fall when she blinks. Your expression softens at the pain written on her face.

“How can you keep this from me? The stories I’ve heard of ‘Uncle Jonghyun’ were really stories of my father. Someone you robbed me from knowing.”

Tears sting your eyes as Minhee snatches the pictures from the table and storms upstairs. The sound of the door slamming makes you jump. Defeated, you sink back into your chair with your face in your palms. A pillar of warmth appears at your side as Taemin moves closer to you and takes you in his arms.

“I messed up,” you struggle to say through a sob. “I messed up.”

“You didn’t mess up,” he whispers in your ear. His arms press you closer to his body. “You were waiting for the right time to tell her and Mincheol.”

“I should’ve told her sooner.”

“You could’ve,” he sighs. “But would you have been ready?”

The peaceful beats of Taemin’s heart make you snuggle more into his chest until it gently beats against your face. Your fingers grip onto his as his scent calms you. Scenarios of ways you could have told Minhee the truth plays in your mind while Taemin slowly rocks you and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“Everything will be okay.”

The soft patter of rain splashes against the window. The overcast sky paints her bedroom with a gray filter. With a sigh, she stares at the ceiling while tears slowly travel to her ears where she wipes them away. Too many thoughts cloud her mind making it difficult to cling to one and ponder on it. 

Her eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to focus on the rain so she can drown out the world and herself. It’s been days since Minhee’s last spoken more than a few sentences to her parents and the guilt has been consuming her as she stays locked in her room. Suddenly, her door swings open to reveal a young man dressed in sweats and a backward baseball cap.

“Big sis!”

The familiar booming voice makes Minhee shoot her eyes open. Before she can brace herself, the young man jumps on top of her. Her face contorts in discomfort while he places a sloppy kiss on her cheek before rolling to lay beside her.

“Hi, Mincheol.” She gasps.

“You would not believe the weekend I had!” Mincheol exclaims and rolls on his side to face Minhee. He goes on to give a recount of the weekend he had with his friends, stopping halfway to tell another story before getting back to the first one. His hands move quickly along with his words, painting an imaginary scenery.

Mincheol is eerily similar to his father. He and Taemin both have a natural gift of dancing, the desire to be challenged and seek an adventure and their mannerisms are almost the same, especially when their lips poke out a little while they talk and use their hands to exaggerate a story. To see Mincheol is to see Taemin as they have the same lips, smile, nose, and facial structure. Minhee begins to wonder why she never noticed she and Taemin’s lack of similarities compared to him and Mincheol.

But in himself, Mincheol is his own person; extremely reserved until he feels comfortable around you, kind-hearted, wise, attentive, like his father, and hates being stuck in one thing and place for long. That’s the downside of his adventurous nature, he was always looking for the next adventure instead of fully enjoying the one he’s currently on.

“You’re not even listening to me,” he whines.

Playfully, he taps her with his foot. His pout disappears when he notices the distant look on his sister’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “C’mon, you’re scaring me.”

Minhee lets out an exasperated sigh. She reaches over to grab the two photographs from her nightstand, where they’ve been for the past few days and hands them to Mincheol. He takes them into his hands and stares back and forth between them, bringing them closer to his face as if he couldn’t see them clearly.

“I know,” Minhee says. “Turns out he’s my father.”

“Who is he? What do you mean he’s,” he shakes Jonghyun’s photo in his hand for extra measure “your father?”

Minhee reaches over and turns the photograph around to reveal the writing on the back. Mincheol’s jaw drops as he fails to stammer a complete sentence.

“I asked mom and dad about it. Turns out they were “waiting” for the right time.” She scoffs. “I’ve been lied to my whole life. I thought dad was my dad -”

“He is your dad, Minnie,” Mincheol interrupts and puts the photograph down. “He doesn’t have to be your biological dad to be one.”

“But -”

“Dad has done and still does his job as a father. Not once have you felt you weren’t his, have you?”

Minhee shakes her head.

“So, you could say he succeeded at being your dad.”

“But why didn’t anyone tell me?” Minhee groans and sits up. “This whole time “Uncle Jonghyun” has been my father. And mom never cared to tell me.”

“Have you ever thought that mom is still devastated over his death?” He softly begins and sits up beside her. “It’s clear they loved each other and I’m sure she would’ve wanted you to know, especially if Uncle Jonghyun was a great person.” He holds his hand up to stop Minhee’s upcoming rebuttal. “I implore you to talk to mom and dad and listen to them.”

Minhee sighs. “You’re right.”

The sound of soft taps on Minhee’s door frame grabs their attention. She and Mincheol look up to see you and Taemin in the doorway, the white photo box with floral decals rests in your hands, clean of dust.

“May we come in?” Taemin asks.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Mincheol says and begins to shift off the bed.

“Please stay, Cheol.” You say as you and Taemin sit on the space in front of them and set the box in the middle. “You deserve to hear this too.”

Mincheol settles back on the bed. Taemin reaches forward and rustles his son’s hair while giving him a low “Welcome home.”

You give Minhee a soft smile before opening the box and handing her a series of photographs of you and Jonghyun.

“Your father and I met at a dog park. His dog, Roo, had gotten loose and ran up to me. He was so apologetic and offered to buy me a coffee as an “I’m sorry.” We talked for hours and he felt like a friend I’ve known since childhood, you get that from him, that and his way of using your words for comfort.

Years go by and we’ve grown to fall for one another, or so we thought. We tried to be in a relationship, but it never worked out. Then, I found out I was pregnant. Actually,” you turn to Taemin and exchange a small smile. “Tae was the first person I told and he came with me to tell your father. We met through Jonghyun at a game night at his house.”

“Was he happy?” Minhee asks, leaning forward with wide eyes.

“We were both scared, but we became excited when we went to our first appointment. When he found out you were a girl,” you pause and chuckle at the memory. “He bought everything pink because he wanted to make sure his princess had everything she needed and more.”

You give Minhee a series of photographs showing Jonghyun cuddling with your growing stomach and building the nursery. Tears brim your eyes as Minhee stares at them in awe.

“He loved you deeply, and I know he would have shown you the world and spoiled you more than your dad.” You playfully nudge Taemin’s shoulder.

“Your mother would never have allowed it anyway.”

“Did you love him?” Mincheol quietly asks.

“I will always love him, but I’m not in love with him. He was my friend that gave me a precious gift of life.” Your eyes softly gaze at your daughter. “When he passed away, Tae was there to help me with you, and we gradually fell for each other. We wed after Mincheol’s birth and now, here we are.”

“Your father was more than a friend, he was my brother. When he died, I gave him a silent promise to always take care of you.”

Overcome with emotion, Minhee leans forward and holds onto you and Taemin, pulling you close. Her shoulders shudder while she uncontrollably sobs. Apologies fall from her lips as her grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry for saying you weren’t my father, dad. And I’m sorry for being so hard on you, mom.”

You, Taemin, and Mincheol wrap your arms around Minhee. Sniffles fill the room while you apologize for not telling her sooner, but also giving her words of comfort that you never kept him hidden from her by telling stories of Jonghyun.

“Can you tell me more about my father?” Minhee asks as she lets you go and wipes her tears away.

You give a joyous smile to Taemin and nod at him, urging him to go first.

“Let me tell you the story of how I met your father.

--

Minhee sits alone on a bench in the park near her house. Its location provides just enough sunshine to warm her skin as she takes a sip of Chai tea from the butterfly mug Mincheol bought for her from Tokyo.

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead, providing a relaxing ambiance while the birds cheerfully chirp from their perches. A soft sigh puffs past her lips at the beauty of the field of flowers in front of her.

“Excuse me,” a soothing voice stammers. “May I sit here?”

Minhee averts her eyes to the stranger standing in front of her. She holds her hand to her face to shield her eyes from the sun’s rays. She squints to make out the figure. Immediately, she recognizes the stranger’s face and stammers over her words.

The stranger chuckles at her reaction and slowly sits beside her. “Hello, Minhee.”

“Unc...father?”

Jonghyun smiles and nods. His eyes sparkle at his daughter as she drops her mug and lurches forward to wrap her arms around his body. Her eyes close in the presence of his warmth and relax in his arms as her fingers grip his shirt, taking note of its cashmere fabric.

Jonghyun tightly wraps his arms around her, bringing her closer to his body. He gently rests his hand on the back of her head and softly hums a lullaby.

Moments go by before Minhee slowly peels herself from Jonghyun’s tight embrace. Her fingers gently touch his cheekbones and notice their warmth.

“Daddy,” she whispers, allowing herself to be a child again and confirm that he’s in front of her.

Jonghyun nods. “It’s me, sweetheart.”

His confirmation makes tears spill from both of your eyes. Words get lost in Minhee’s sea of thoughts as she searches for something to say. Jonghyun feels her fluster and softly chuckles.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he smiles while wiping her tears away. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Of course!” Jonghyun exclaims. “You’re my princess!”

As the sun gradually sets, Minhee and Jonghyun stroll through the park, talking about everything from their childhoods to what’s been happening lately, their interests, worries, and dreams.

“I always knew your mother and Taemin belonged together,” Jonghyun says while his hands pull on the lush grass underneath of him.

“But isn’t that weird?” Minhee asks while her face scrunching in confusion. “He’s your friend. Weren’t you hurt?”

Jonghyun shakes his head. “We knew we weren’t compatible. I wanted and still want nothing but happiness for her, and I knew it was Taemin that could add more of that to her life.” He takes her hand in his and gently squeezes it. “Don’t be too hard on them. They were just trying their best to raise you and your brother while coping with my death.”

The word ‘death’ strikes Minhee’s heart as she draws herself closer to Jonghyun. He welcomes her with open arms and presses her closer to his chest, allowing her to hear the soft beating of his heart as the sun nears the horizon.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” Minhee asks with tears welling in her eyes.

“Yes,” Jonghyun soothingly answers. “But I’ll visit you whenever I can.”

His arms tightly hold onto his daughter while the sky grows dark enough to display the twinkling stars above.

“I love you, Minhee, and I’m so proud of the young lady you’re growing up to be,” Jonghyun whispers, trying his best to hold back his tears. “Whenever you feel alone, remember that I’m here with you. I will always be with you.”