[ AUTHOR'S POV ]

He felt the soft fur of his teddy bear and he hugged it tightly to himself. Instinctively, his other hand searched his right side where he expected to feel his mother, probably awake since a few hours ago. However, what he felt were cold and crumpled sheets beside him. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He sat up and looked down at the space where his mother was supposed to be. He casted his eyes towards the open balcony, expecting her to be there like how he usually finds her every night. He stood up and walked to it, only to feel the cold early dawn breeze brush his skin. He tightly hugged his teddy bear closer to his chest and blinked innocently at the empty balcony.

He turned around, going to the next place where his mother might be. Maybe she just went to the bathroom, probably turning the shower on, letting the cold water brush on her skin for hours. But when he opened the bathroom, it was empty as well.

He turned around again, now clueless where her mother might be. He stared at the door of their bedroom and walked to it. He opened it and stepped out. The dark corridor met his eyes so he had to squint through the darkness.

He blindly walked towards the living room, maybe she was there. But as expected, there was someone else occupying the sofa and he seemed to be asleep. He walked towards him, fighting against himself whether he was going to bother his sleep or not. Before he could even decide against it, the guy’s eyes slowly opened, widening upon setting his sleepy eyes on the  seven-year old kid.

“Oh, Jisung-ah, you’re awake at this hour?” he said with his sleepy voice, eyes widening when he looked at his watch. It was four in the morning. “Do you need something?”

“Omma is not here, Uncle Jae,” Jisung said.

“Well, did you check the balcony? Or the bathroom?” Jaejoong asked as the kid nodded his head. “So, she’s not there eh? Probably, she’s getting something to munch?”

The two of them went to the kitchen only to find it empty as well.

“Let’s check outside,” Jaejoong suggested.

As the two of them walked outside only to find it empty, Jisung’s eyes became watery as he became more worried for his mother. “Do you think she ran away? Do you think she left me?”

Jaejoong stared down at him and bended his knee to level his gaze with the kid. He ruffled the kid’s hair and smiled softly. “She would never do that. She loves you too much. Now, let’s go back to sleep, eh?”

Jisung shook his head. “Let’s look for Omma.”

Jaejoong frowned but still nodded. “Okay, then,” he grabbed the kid’s hand and they walked along the neighborhood. They stayed silent, letting their eyes search for the missing woman. But Jaejoong knew she wasn’t missing. He knew she would come back in the morning. It was just because it was the seventh year this month and she wanted to be alone as always.

They reached a playground and they stopped for a while as Jisung seemed to have spotted her at the far distance, in front of an old church.

“Isn’t that Omma?” Jisung asked.

“Good work, Jisung. You found your mother,” Jaejoong encouraged, staring at the woman with a scarf around her, probably to keep her warm. She was just entering the church. As he knew that she wanted to be alone, he suggested something to the kid. “Now that you found her, we can go home, right? Let’s wait for her at home.”

“I don’t want to, Uncle. Let’s go to her. She might be lonely again.”

Jaejoong exhaled, knowing how stubborn the kid could get. “Okay. You know that Omma wants to be alone most of the times, right?” he asked as the kid nodded. “This is one of those times. Now, if you really want to wait for her before going home, let’s just stay by this swing and wait for her, okay?”

Jisung seemed to consider it, so he nodded.

After a while, Jaejoong fell asleep, with his arms crossed on his knees and his head on his arms while Jisung stayed awake, not leaving his gaze from the entrance of the old church.

A car parked in front of the church. The man inside stared at the old church as thoughts of washing away his sins flooded his mind. It was the time for that, cleaning his heart and soul and starting a new life after this. Everything had come to an end. He was successful.

He removed the black gloves from his hands, the cap from his head, the black leather jacket, and the guns kept on his holsters. He stared down at the neatly folded black clothes on the passenger seat along with the NIS badge and guns on top of it.

“Time to leave this kind of life,” he muttered and stared at the reflection of his face in the rearview mirror of his car. Staring back at him are two eyes with dark circles around them. He was exhausted, lacking sleep for a few days now, as things became complicated recently that he couldn’t catch a single blink of sleep. But, even if he had accomplished them already a few hours ago, he chose not to go home. He chose not to catch on his sleep and rest for days. He chose to clean his soul so he came to the church he had frequented since he was young.

Inhaling deeply, he opened the car door. He walked towards the church with slow and careful steps. He was afraid that upon stepping inside, there might be some kind of a barrier preventing him to enter because of all the sins he had committed in the past. As he was directly in front of the entrance, he wished there wouldn’t be.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and took a step inside, and then another.

He opened his eyes, glad that he was able to make this simple act. He inhaled deeply again as he started his way towards the altar, his eyes not leaving the front of the church. He was starting to tear up and when he reached the very front of the church, he kneeled and put his hands together and bowed his head as he muttered a silent prayer, with tears trickling down his cheeks.

Dara had been inside the church for an hour already. She hadn’t noticed the time but her knees were starting to get numb from kneeling on the church kneeler. She was praying for him, praying for their child, praying for the two of them. She hadn’t let go of the hope she had felt a year ago when she thought that he came back, that he wasn’t really dead.

At long last, she stood up from her position and sat back on the bench. She wiped away her tears and relaxed. She looked outside of the church where the first signs of the sunrise appeared. It was getting early and she needed to get home before Jisung awakened.

She prepared to stand up; grabbing her scarf she left on the bench. As she took one last glance at the altar, she spotted someone kneeling in front. In a second, her heart beat erratically against her chest as she somewhat recognized the person. She thought he was familiar, maybe it was the body form? Or the hair?

It just seemed that there was a force telling her to approach him, confirm her suspicions.

Her hands shook, her knees trembled, and her heart beat more erratically now. She was nervous, anticipating, and hopeful, as she neared him. She was walking slowly though. What if she was wrong? What if this was another false hope she felt? What would she do? Cry hopelessly again? She was tired of crying but it was the only thing she could do.

But she couldn’t be wrong. She knew this person, she was sure of it. And in only a mere three feet away from him, she stopped on her tracks. This time, she was sure of it as she saw the side of his face, tainted with tears, scratches, and a few bruises. Her scarf fell to the ground as she brought her hands to her chest, cupping her heart.

“Ji…” she whispered, unable to complete the word from as the man looked up and opened his eyes. He stared to the side where Dara was standing. And that was the time when Dara had a full view of his face. “Ji… Ji…yong…”

He blinked and then blinked. His heart thumped hard on his chest. A sense of longing passed through and he stood up. “Dara…”

Dara blinked as tears continuously fell on her cheeks. She choked a sob and covered as she made the shameful sound. But she couldn’t help it. She was too happy, too overwhelmed.

“Dara,” Jiyong muttered again, suddenly sensing the need to apologize for everything. “Dara, I’m sor—“

Before he could even say it, Dara leaped toward him and wrapped her arms around Jiyong, planting her face on his chest and crying loudly, not minding that they were inside the church where silence was to be observed.

“Jiyong, you’re back. I knew it,” Dara said, crying louder as she tightly hugged him as if afraid that she would lose him again.

Jiyong was speechless, too overwhelmed at the turn of events. He didn’t expect this. Yes, he was planning to show up to them, but not this soon. He wasn’t prepared then. He had to prepare himself, needed to practice his apology because he was sure that Dara was mad at him for leaving them like that, making them believe that he was dead.

“Jiyong…” Dara continued to cry. “I’m so glad. You… you’re alive.”

Finally, Jiyong’s arms found their strength to circle around Dara’s body and hug her back. He hugged her tightly, making her feel the longing and love he had felt for the past years.

“I’m really sorry. Really, really sorry.”

Dara leaned away, to the disappointment of Jiyong. She smiled up at him and cupped his face. “Don’t apologize, you babo,” she said, voice still shaking from crying too much. She continued on staring at his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips, missing every part of him. She touched his soft hair.

“I knew it, I just knew it,” Dara muttered repeatedly.

“Dara, I’m really so—“

“Not another word,” Dara said, pressing her finger on his lips. “I forgive you. I had forgiven you a long time ago. Remember that. No apologies.”

“But—“

Jiyong was cut off when Dara pressed her lips against his, feeling the tingling sensation she had missed for years. She missed these lips; she missed this feeling of love. Jiyong held on to her nape to deepen the kiss just when Dara leaned away with their foreheads still connected. He wiped away the tears from her face just as she did on his.

“I missed you,” Jiyong whispered.

Dara pressed her lips for a second on his again. “I missed you too,” she said, fresh tears flowing down again.

Just then, little hands gripped Dara’s clothes and she looked down at the seven-year old kid.

“Jisung!” Dara and Jiyong said together.

Dara stared at Jiyong. “You know Jisung?!”

Jiyong nodded and smiled sheepishly.

“The rose in the park! I knew it was you,” Dara pointed out, chuckling while tears continued to flow.

“Omma, let’s go home,” Jisung said.

Dara and Jiyong stared at the boy. Dara bended down, leveling her gaze to the boy. “Before that, baby boy, let me introduce you to someone,” she said, sniffing.

Jiyong bended down beside her and smiled at the boy. “Do you remember me?”

Jisung blinked, trying hard to remember, before nodding. “You’re that strange man who gave me the rose to be given to Omma, right?” Jisung kept him in his memories. Even though he was a strange man, the mere sight of the rose seemed to ease out the tension that his mother had felt during those times. And those crying times lessened while she held on to that rose. He had seen it every day. So he was grateful to that strange man.

“This strange man, Jisung…” Dara breathed and then smiled at the boy and then to Jiyong. “…is your Appa.”

Jisung stared at Jiyong before the latter hugged the boy tightly towards his chest. Jiyong invited Dara to their little reunion before he whispered. “Let’s start a new life together… together as a family.”

“My work here is done,” whispered a man who was standing at the entrance of the church. A sad, little smile drawn on his lips as he walked away from the church. “Live a good life with Jiyong, Dara.”

-END-

“Anger and vengeance could be reasons to have senseless thoughts that could lead to revenge. But revenge is never an answer to anything. It is forgiveness.”

“At times when you feel like you’re alone, you would always realize that someone is staying with you, making you feel their presence, their love towards you. you just have to open your heart and your eyes.”