Grace is She.
 

It is around Sarang's second birthday when Mrs. Kim learns of her condition. She exits her doctor's office and walks slowly back to her manager’s car, caressing her belly as if she is afraid that it will disappear at any moment. A shy but radiant smile spreads upon her face, and she just can't wait to tell her partner of the good news. She shakes her head when the older man asks about what the doctor said.


Her husband will be first to know.



Mrs. Kim comes home to her first born baby sleeping soundly against its father's chest. Her husband too is slumbering away, emitting soft snores every now and then. They both look so comfortable and calm that Liyin can only imagine the places they are visiting in their dreams.



Are they having the same dream? She silently asks.



Quietly she approaches them, her footsteps muffled by the thick socks she is wearing. She plants a kiss atop the head of each. These two are the most important beings in her life; she's about to have three now. The thought makes her shiver in anticipation.



She notices her husband shift a little. He is careful even in his sleep, subconsciously aware of the little bundle of joy on top of him. Liyin lifts Sarang from Junsu. She coos at her child as she takes her to the crib in the middle of the room. She sings to her, soft and quiet, just to let her know that she is not alone.



Liyin continues to hum to her daughter, Sarang's tiny hand grasping tight onto her mother's finger. She doesn't notice the presence of the man—whose eyes twinkle in love and bliss—observing her every movement. She almost jumps out of her skin when she feels strong arms circling her waist, resting on her tummy.



"There’s something you haven’t told me, love," he whispers into her ear.



The Chinese-born songstress doesn’t help the gasp that escapes . She turns in his arms and gazes at his loving eyes.



“How did you know?” she inquires, her own hazel orbs searching.



“I’ve been loving you for years,” he aswers. “I know every little change that takes place,” he adds.



The words earn Asia’s most beloved musician a pretty pout—one that takes all his determination not to kiss away. “Still,” his wife begins, “how can you know without me telling you?”



Kim Junsu groans, his hands leaving the small of her back. He cups her face and smiles.



“You get more tired than usual, love. You’re usually cheerful self has been quite lazy and whiny this past couple of weeks,” he says, kissing Liyin before she can protest. Then he takes her form closer to his, encircling his arms around her once more. “You’re swollen,” he adds, right hand sneakily squeezing her left .



“Yah!” Liyin exclaims, readying herself for a bout of scolding. But he stops her, yet again, with his tender lips and even more passionate caresses.



She doesn’t even realize her body has been sore until she feels him rubbing and massaging the pain away. Her husband starts upon her head, traveling down onto her nape, and then her shoulders. Liyin moans her approval.



“But,” Junsu starts again. “Most importantly, love, there’s this glow in you. I can’t even believe you can become more beautiful,” he says, fingers never stopping their ministrations. The younger singer goes silent for a while. “Love?” he calls.



He is answered by a soft hum.



“Why don’t we take this to bed?” he asks. But he doesn’t wait for an answer before taking her into his arms, lifting her as if she is weightless.











∞











“Oppa…” the grown woman, belly just about telling of her condition, whines. Her voice is high pitched, a tactic she’s rarely used in the many years they’ve been together.



Her husband doesn’t bat an eyelash towards her. He only presses his mobile phone to his ear and waits for his hyung to take his call. He pretends to ignore Liyin’s advances—her subtle slinking onto his lap—and her continuous whining.



“Yes, hyung,” Junsu suddenly starts. His wife’s groaning grows louder, protesting what her hubby is about to say. “Riinie won’t be dancing,” he states.



“Joongie-oppa, don’t listen to him!” Liyin grabs at Junsu’s phone and talks. “He’s exaggerating things!”



Mr. Kim takes the almost delirious woman in his arms and steals his mobile back. “I don’t want her dancing, hyung,” he continues. “Yes well, Sarang’s about to have a dongsaeng and I don’t want anything to happen to Riinie and my child, you understand, don’t you?”



With several nods after that, Junsu finally hangs up. Liyin shrugs off his arms off her but he grabs at her elbow instead. Then, he cups her face in both his hands and looks her in the eye.



“Okay, I’m giving you the choice,” he says, speaking in a low voice. His wife waits. “Either you don’t dance in this concert or we forget the whole thing.”



With a gasp, Mrs. Kim slaps her husband’s hands away and gets off him. She huffs and stalks out of the room. Liyin locks their bedroom door and sleeps on their bed alone for a couple of nights.











∞











Mrs. Kim knows for a fact that both she and her hubby struggled immensely in the kitchen. Such is the reason why, on the second day of the cold war she’s initiated between them, she is taken by surprise to find a plate of her favorite blueberry waffles waiting for her on their breakfast table. She looks at Junsu, pretending to be reading the news paper in his seat, and gapes at him for a long while.



She also knows for a fact that what he had done—the choices he’d let her have—were all for her own safety. She knows from experience that his dance songs aren’t short of vigorous workout. And, at her current condition, something she has to avoid.



Still, her stubbornness wants to dance, and it’s just isn’t fair how her oppa can just tell her what to do—



“Breakfast then we’re heading rehearsals,” Junsu states, still behind his papers.



“Rehearsals?” Liyin inquires.



“Yes, well, you’ve already missed one yesterday…”



The songstress takes her place on Mr. Kim’s lap, brushing the offending newspapers out of her way. “Can I have one dance, at least?” she asks, eyes wide in seeming innocence.



Xia Junsu shakes his head, no. “We can’t risk it, love.” He answers her apologetically. “Can you just give this to me for now? On you next one, you can have a dance concert,” he smiles. “Please?”



With a pout and a whiny okay, she plants a kiss on his temple. “Fine, but I get to dance on your concert, too.”



Junsu gives out that famous high-pitched laughter of his. “Deal.”











∞











Months later, Zhang Liyin signs contract renewals with the company that manages her promotions as well as a famous cosmetics brand, right beside her musician husband. They’ve just been to a meeting with another company, which sought to have her endorse them after she gives birth to her second child.



To the world, the couple is this perfectly composed pair of talented artists. But inside, it’s taking everything in them not to shiver with nerves and excited anticipation. Because, really, anytime now, Mrs. Kim’s water is going to break and, well, they won’t be able to stop what comes next, can they?



Right after placing the final period on her signature, Mrs. Kim freezes. Fate chooses this exact moment to start the chaos of her labor.



Her body stiffens, something her husband, with his left arm around her, does not leave unnoticed. He quickly dials their driver’s mobile and gives his clear instructions to meet them right outside the building. He then nods towards his wife’s manager, the signal they’ve all been waiting for.



“Hang on there, love. I’m right here, everything’s going to be all right,” he murmurs into her hair as he takes her form into his arms. And he repeats the words as he walks them out of the building, amidst the throng of reporters and fans, and into their awaiting car.



Their second daughter is born a couple of hours later, not putting Liyin in too much pain or excrutiatingly long labor.



Their Kim Eunjeong is born during a time when blessing are abundant, and prosperity is in the couples’ midst.



Grace is she.





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I had a Korean classmate a while back who dubbed me with a name. Eunjeong represents my second given name which translates to Grace. I may have used it in a different context here, so bare with me? 

I just realized that the timeline for this and Sarang's story works (to an extent at least). Since Sarang was posted in 2010. Hahaha. I guess you can just say the Eunjeong is born a few months after Sarang's second birthday instead. :)

Thanks for reading! ♥