Description: Victoria’s shaky heart has finally healed, creating a life that she never thought she would ever have. Her son, Xianhua is now 16, and she is able to perform alongside her husband every now and then, whenever the situation permits. Time has not diminished her abilities, but when a tragedy strikes, she finds herself unsure of where she should be.

Characters: Hangeng, Victoria (Song Qian), Henry (Xianhua), Amber (Yiyun)

Tomorrow's Promise:

It’s been years, definitely. But where there is talent and passion, time can do little to destroy the things founded in blood, sweat and tears.

Victoria spun around in a lazy circle, warming up as her husband and her son arrived in the practice room. Her fifteen-year-old son took up the violin, but like his parents, had the passion for movement. He had been scolded many times for moving too much while performing pieces by his mentor, but no amount of reprimanding could uproot his love for dancing.

Hangeng smiled at her and the two men joined her for warm ups. This was their little family, and she was simply waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell him that they were finally having another. Her son already knew, but it was their little secret. At least, for the time being.

 ~°~

“You’ve been dancing differently,” Hangeng noted as they sat at the table, having dinner.

“How so?” she asked, scooping some rice onto her plate.

“It’s been...” he began, trying to think of the right word. “Gentle. It’s been a lot more serene lately; it’s not your style at all. You like fast movements and back breaking stunts.”

“Back breaking?” she asked with a scoff. “I do not dance back breaking dances!”

“Yes, you do, Mom,” Xianhua, who had gladly taken on the nickname Henry for his English name, said with a laugh. “At least to us.”

Victoria laughed. "Can you guess why?"

Hangeng shook his head, and Henry sighed. Victoria glanced at her son before whispering the right answer to him, just for fun. Hangeng's eyes widened in shock, and they began to celebrate with orange juice and fruits.

~°~

Hangeng deposited his bags into the counter and said a brief goodbye to his family. He was off to another site for another performance, but like always, he believed that his wife and child--soon to be plural--would be able to deal without him for a while. It was quite a normal scene, saying a quick goodbye before leaving, but giving a warm hello after coming back.

"Take care of yourself," Hangeng reminded once more to his wife. "Son, take good care of your mother."

His son nodded, but his wife replied, "Don't you think I can take care of myself? You also went with the troupe for work when I was pregnant with Henry, don't you think I can handle it again?"

"I know you can," he replied, hugging her warmly. "But I want Henry to grow up knowing how to take care of others well. I had a hard time the first time I tried to take care of someone 'cause I was always the one taken care of. Especially by you."

"Alright, enough with your cheesy words," she concluded, drawing the conversation to a close before it could become anything weird. "Go and have fun. Take care of yourself and mesmerize your audience like you always do, okay?"

"Alright. Both of you, take care, okay?" he asked. They nodded, and he waved at them before walking over to the gate that would lead him to their plane.

~°~

Fate, it seemed, was never on her side.

Blood dripped from the palm of her hand as she listened to the news with disbelief. Her hands were shaking. No. She refused to believe that what they said was true. It couldn't be. He promised.

"I'm home!" Henry announced as he strode into the kitchen with a beaming smile, only for it to fade when he saw his mother bleeding and trembling. "Mom!" he exclaimed, running towards her, immediately applying pressure on the wound.

The nick on her hand had stopped bleeding, but the shell-shocked expression had not left her face. It compelled him to ask, though he felt like he did not want to know.

"Your father is dead," she whispered croakily. "Your father is dead!" she cried and wrapped her arms around her son. His strength...it was something she was thankful for.

Henry tried to process this information while comforting his mother when the phone rang. There was something ominous about the way it did that he did not wish to pick it up, but he knew, for his mother's sake, he had to. She had passion, but she also had a weak heart. Things frighten her, and sometimes, they scar her deeply.

"Hello?" he asked shakily. A short conversation later, Henry dejectedly replaced the receiver. "Mom?" he called.

Victoria didn't want to, but she turned her attention to her son. The emotions written on his face, though he tried to conceal them, stabbed at her heart. She knew it, without the words needing to be said.

~°~

Son, take good care of your mother, those words rang in Henry's muddled brain, forcing him to remember when he desperately wanted to forget.

Not that his father was worth forgetting. It was the pain that he deemed unworthy of remembering. And the loss.

He got up reluctantly and got ready for the day. It was time to rethink everything, he mused, since things have gone on a different path than the three of them had expected.

Three. In a matter of months, it would be the three of them again. Him, his mother, and his unborn sibling. Those words... Just thinking of them brought the urge to cry again, and he'd already cried so much. He couldn't face his mother... But he needed to, didn't he? His Dad's specific request was for him to take good care of his mother. Come to think of it, it was his only real request.

He sighed. The things we do for love.

~°~

Henry stood in front of his father's coffin with his mother by his side. Such emotional turmoil wasn't good for her, not when she was bearing a child. He wrapped his arms around her, protectively hugging her, as he had seen his father do so many times before whenever she was sad.

So that's why you're so strong, he thought. The feeling of warmth, knowing that someone you loved was right beside you--it gave one strength in the face of adversity.

"Mom," he softly called.

The body that lay in that coffin was his father, the same man that had always been by his mother's side, taking care of her. He'd always been the best without anyone needing to tell him because he was amazing in his own way. As a father, as a husband, as a son.

"I should really stop crying like a blubbering idiot," his mother finally chocked out, wipping away the tears as well as she could.

Henry guided his mother to a seat and knelt before her, wiping away the tears with the handkerchief that he had conveniently remembered to stuff in one of his pockets. There was nothing he could do nor say that could bring him back to life.

"It’s going to be okay, Mom,” he assured her.. “It’s going to be okay.”

~°~

A month passes, and soon, two. Henry does his best to coax his mother back to physical and mental health. The pain of loss has numbed over time, but it still hurt nonetheless.

Henry had voluntarily taken up a part-time job to help support the both of them, and his soon-to-come sibling. His father was their breadwinner, and although they had savings, they could not rely on it forever. Besides, his mother has been having cravings lately, and Henry needed the money in his pocket so he could just run out and buy them instead of taking a detour to the bank. Or the ATM, which was sometimes unreliable because there were times they ran out of cash.

He sighed again as he stared at the passbook in his hands. This was his account, and this was the money that they were using right now. His part-time job seemed like it wasn’t enough…

The passbook was plucked out of his hands. “You should really stop sighing, you know? If you have a problem, share it or something so we can solve it.”

“Mom…”

Victoria wrapped her arms around her son. “Oh, I’m sorry, Xianhua, I’ve given you so much trouble.”

“It’s not, Mom, don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ve actually already applied for this job before everything, and, well, it’s as much as I thought it would be. It’s just that… Well, the pay isn’t as amazing as I first thought it would be.”

“Those aren’t supposed to be your concerns,” she said. “They’re mine.”

“You’ve always said share,” he replied with a laugh.

“Exactly. Share,” she affirmed.

~°~

As the sun and moon take their places in the sky, giving day and night, the seasons pass and the time we have quickly grows short. But life is more than the passing of seasons, as a person is more than the things that physically comprise them. Happiness will pass, and pain will come, but pain will pass and happiness will once more be welcome.

Victoria held in her arms a newborn child with a gentle smile on her face. The pain and the grief in their hearts had waned with the coming of their newest member.

“Hello, little Yiyun,” she whispered as tears pricked her eyes, threatening to fall.

The baby in her arms cooed happily, reaching out for her hands as Xianhua watched his mother with a big smile on his face.

“Hey, little sis,” he greeted. His mother reached out to him and wrapped one of her arms around his shoulder. There was only one person missing, but right now, this was as complete as it was going to get—and tomorrow holds a promise for them, as it did before.