Date 29: New York

Dara gave a curt nod to the pilot standing near the stairs leading up to the jet and hurried up the steps. Jiyong made a point to give a more gracious smile, but was met with a surprisingly cold stare – much different from the greeting he’d gotten from Jinu and Sean and the other pilots they’d had.


“What’s up with him?” He nodded his head toward the cockpit as he took up a comfy seat across from Dara.

“He must be new, I don’t recognize him…” Her eyes looked worried.

“Something wrong?”

She shook her head, but he knew better.

“Something’s wrong, D. Tell me.”

She furrowed her brows at him before she shook her head and shrugged. “I guess there’s no point keeping secrets from you.” She heaved a sigh and fidgeted in her chair. “I just hope my dad didn’t restaff all the jets because he’s angry.”

“He would do that?”

“He’s done it before. And by the way they’re treating us…” She shook her head and moved her gaze to the window. “I’ll deal with it when we get to Manhattan.”



Most of the flight was spent in silence before the two fell into a soft slumber in the familiar back bedroom from the hang overs lingering in their stomachs and heads, and the remnants of exhaustion and lack of sleep from the wild night they’d had in Sin City.

They arrived at JFK airport just as they were rubbing the sleep from their eyes and they were almost immediately rushed into a black luxury car the moment they stepped onto the tarmac.



“We’re going to Museum Mile,” Dara said so sharply Jiyong pulled her closer to calm her down. There was obviously a charge of urgency and reluctance in the air and he had no idea why.

“I have specific instructions to take you straight to the Four Seasons, Ms. Park.”

“From who? My father?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well he said he wanted to meet us for dinner. It’s only three in the afternoon. Take us to Museum Mile so we can enjoy our day before we meet with my parents.”

“Ma’am-”

“Now.”

At her tone, the driver nodded his head rather reluctantly and pulled out into the street.

“Everything okay, D?” Ji slid his arm around Dara tighter and softly kissed the crown of her head, eliciting a sigh.

“Just want to show you around some of New York, Ji. That’s all. This is too much of an amazing city to just be holed up in a hotel all day.” She leaned into Ji and nuzzled into his neck, her frustration ebbing away.




First up on Museum Mile was the Guggenheim, greeting the couple with its roundabout architecture. Jiyong gaped up at the huge edifice, steel lines encircling over and across each other to form an insanely strange, avant garde silhouette and structure.

“,” he muttered as Dara pulled him inside, chuckling at his bemused expression.

The inside of the museum echoed the same sentiments of the architecture outside, the winding and twisting walls creating a spinning interior design that was both breathtaking and confusing in its strange beauty.

The two walked hand in hand and admired the various art pieces adorning the walls, the quiet and crisp atmosphere feeing almost strange after the hoopla and flashing lights of Vegas.

“Look at that,” Dara pointed toward a painting splashed with an array of geometrical shapes and bright colors that looked both disorienting and beautifully fluid at the same time. “What do you think of that?”

“Hm..” Jiyong leaned forward, brows together and eyes straining to see what Dara might be seeing. “I’m no expert in art, D… I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s a Kandinsky,” She said, tilting her head in a way that made Jiyong think she’d been to hundreds of museums and was the kind of person that knew and saw things in art that only polished art-junkies could.

“Do you like Kandinsky?”

“I love Kandinsky.” She smiled and nodded her head toward a different exhibit. “I have some of his pieces in my room back home.”

“Really?... That must have been expensive.” He chuckled as he trailed behind her and to a painting that looked like a psychedelic egg throwing up blue and green paint.

“Relatively,” Dara shrugged with a smile as she took the painting in.

“Is this as bad as I think it is? Or do I just know nothing about art?”

“Art is all subjective and relative, Ji.” She turned to him as she swung an arm across his shoulders. “If it speaks to you, then it’s good.”



They explored the rest of the museum, the memories of the trick museum they’d visited in Hongdae making them giggle when they came upon particularly confusing pieces.



“Hm…” Dara looked around her as they stepped out into the cold air. “Shall we head to the MOMA?”

“Museum of Modern Art? Do you think we’ll be able to get in?”

“I know a couple people,” she said quietly.

“Of course you do,” He chuckled as he pulled her closer and headed out.




After meeting with a head curator that happened to be very good friends with Dara’s mother, the two were escorted inside and straight into the new Print Collection exhibit.

They were greeted with bright American flags, bold colors, and broken forms.

“Matisse,” Dara muttered as they came upon a portrait of a woman with a large hat on a background of faded, blending colors.

“Do you like Matisse?” Jiyong smiled as he asked.

“Maybe his earlier pieces before his crazy color theory came into play. I’m not so into Fauvism. He overlapped with Impressionim and if we’re talking about Impressionism, I’d go with Morisot or Pissarro any day. May be a bit more frothy and light, but overall more fluid and appealing-“ She stopped mid-sentence when she caught sight of Jiyong’s amused smile. “Just my opinion though...”

“Don’t stop. I like hearing you talk about art. You could teach me a lot of things.”

She seemed to blush as she nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s head up.”





“He’s your favorite,” Jiyong whispered as they stared up at Van Gogh’s infamous Starry Night.

“How’d you know?”

“Your laptop wallpaper. That painting with all the branches and cherry blossoms… I looked it up,” He smiled sheepishly at her. “Van Gogh.”

“They’re almond branches,” she pulled him closer with a laugh. “That’s so sweet that you noticed that.”

“Even though I know almost nothing about him?”

“You know almost everything about me – that’s what I’m touched by,” she looked up at him and was surprised at the small gasp that escaped his lips. Did he see it too when he looked at her? Did he get the same feeling when he looked into her eyes, that she got when she looked into his? Did he see the same emotions pouring out?

“Tell me about Van Gogh,” He murmured, eyes twinkling.

“I like him because he’s sad,” she said quietly. “He lived a sad life. His art has this loneliness to it, this despondence… but the colors he uses are so vibrant, his technique so bold and brazen, and his so harsh…” She looked up at him, lips pursing and eyes squinting. “I like the contrast. He shows that there is beauty in pain. I love that.”

He looked down at her, chest swelling at the words. Beauty in pain – such a perfect way to describe the beginning of their relationship.

“I used to spend hours here when I was younger, in this room. Staring up at all the Van Gogh pieces and wishing I lived in one of them – any of them.”

She turned to look around her, memories pulling her away from Ji for a few moments, something melancholic lingering behind her eyes before she turned back to him and smiled.

“Enough with my art nonsense, let’s head out.”

“Is there a classical or renaissance art museum somewhere? I feel like I’d be able to appreciate and… understand those better.” His cheeks ran a light pink as he said it, his boyish charm making Dara chuckle and pinch his cheeks.

“There are plenty of wonderful Classical and Renaissance museums and I’ll take you to all of them, Jagi.”

“Today?!”

“No… they’re not in New York.” She moved away from him and down the stairs toward the exit.

“Where then…?”

“Italy and Greece, where else?” She smirked and winked at him as they made their way into the cold bite of the Lower Manhattan air again.

“I’m gaping a little bit at the thought of going to Italy and Greece with you, Jagi. To be honest,” He pulled her close in an attempt to block off the winds spinning and pushing against them. “But I won’t get ahead of myself. Where to next?”

“I know this great café.”




They sat near the window, grey clouds moving in to block off the last remnants of the sun’s rays as a barista dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks placed their Hazelnut Americanos down.

“Guess we won’t see the sunset today,” Dara muttered as she stared out into the bustling streets.

Jiyong took a sip from his mug, the heavy warmness spreading through him and reminding him of the feeling he’d gotten at Jeju Island after he’d woken up to find Dara in the living room drinking hot chocolate.

“Did you spend a lot of time here?”

“I was here all the time,” she said, her eyes still gazing out the window. “This feels like home.” She turned back to him and smiled, her eyes crinkling up into crescents. “And it’s even better that you’re here with me. It’s… perfect.”

“Would… would you want to spend the rest of your life here?” He said quietly.

“Here?... why?” Her heart began to race again. “Would you?”

“With you.” He said simply, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Doesn’t matter where, as long as I’m with you.”

She stared at him, tears pulling at and tipping the edges of her eyes once again. Giddy. How could he always make her feel so giddy? Twenty-nine days straight together and each one filled with a new kind of happiness, a new sort of elation, and a greater appreciation of the promise of tomorrow… the promise of forever.

Just like this.

“You’re not going to propose right now, are you?” she breathed, eyes locked on his before he burst into laughter.

“No, D. Why do you look so nervous?!”

“Because I am! You have no idea how many times I’ve thought that you would get on your knee and ask me!!” She laughed along with him, her anxiety ebbing away.

“That makes you nervous?”

“Excited,” she smiled at him as she made her way over to his couch and nuzzled into his arms. They stared out at the street lights together, sipping at their mugs in warm comfort, the jazzy tunes of the café whisping in and out of their ears.

“Not today, D.” He leaned in for a soft, slow kiss. Burned through both of them. Reached down into their cores, another kiss like they’d never had before. Carnal, sweet, light, burning, pining – they’d had it all together. “I love you. You know that, right?” He whispered against her lips, the sweet savory smell of caffeine and Jiyong making her grin.

“Do you?”

“I do. With all my heart. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”

“I love you too.” She touched her lips to his, clutching his collar and pulling him closer. “Every day for the rest of my life. Just you.” She breathed against him. “Just you and me.”







As the clock hit 8:30, the two made their way back to the spot the driver was parked and climbed into the black Maybach.

“It’s going to rain,” she said softly, that melancholic pull to her voice just like when they were in Hawaii. She stared out the window, hand in his in a hollow embrace.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head slightly, left arm wrapping around her torso and squeezing as if she were in pain. “I can feel it coming. The rain.”



The rest of the ride to the hotel was spent in silence, the little fidgets of pain making Jiyong more anxious with every passing second.

They stepped out of the luxury car quietly and headed into the grand Four Seasons and headed straight for the elevator.

“Where are we heading, D?” Jiyong said softly, finally breaking the oppressive silence between them. He hated it. He knew something was wrong, but she wouldn’t let a thing out. Just lean on him, that’s all he wanted. That’s what he was there for. To be her rock, to be her comfort… to be the one that would pick her up and make her feel better.

“Penthouse,” she replied quietly, pressing the unmarked button above all others in the elevator and taking a deep breath as the doors closed and they shot their way up.





“Mom, Dad.” Dara greeted as they made their way through the glass-walled corridors and toward the dining room that overlooked a breathtaking view of Lower Manhattan. “Why are you guys staying here and not the estate?”

“We’re getting some construction done, adding a new wing for an extra library, office, and guestroom for you, dear.” Ms. Park’s whispy voice seemed to blow through the air as she took Dara into a double-cheeked kiss.

“How long are you guys staying here?”

“Just two more days. Seungri’s parents offered to free up one of their condos for us, so nice of them.” Mr. Park’s voice boomed through the air as he took Jiyong into a stiff handshake. “Have you met Seungri, Jiyong?”

“Yes… a couple weeks ago at your Seoul estate.” He smiled at Ms. Park as they took their seats at the pitch black dining room table, the modern crisp elegance of the Parks that Jiyong had become so accustomed to echoed even in the rented penthouse.

“He’s a great young man, isn’t he?” Mr. Park said as he waved for the kitchen crew to bring the food out. “I’m sorry, we’ll have to skip the salads. You two are a bit late, we’ll go straight to the main course.”

Kitchen attendants dressed in simple black uniforms laid out plates with deep brown steaks, sautéed green beans, and small peppered potatoes. But for the first time since he’d met her, Jiyong was surprised to see that Dara didn’t dig right in. She slowly took up her utensils instead, eyes fixed and burning through her father.

“Seungri has a stand-alone law firm not too far from here. He’s actually responsible for the merger with Maybelline that skyrocketed our stock prices.” He chuckled as he cut into his steak.

“Oh really? That’s great. He sounds like quite the lawyer.”

“Vicious, charming – an expert in business sense. And class,” he slowly slid the steak into his mouth, eyes planted on Jiyong. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Jiyong?”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Dara muttered, cutting into her own steak rather sharply. “He just loves Seungri to bits and pieces. That’s all.”

“He’s a good man. Isn’t he, Sandara?”

“Yes. He’s nice,” she seemed to say through gritted teeth.

“The marrying type,” her mother cooed and Jiyong noticed Dara freeze up for a few moments out of the corner of his eye.


He and Dara slowly sunk their teeth into their first bites, appetites suddenly completely gone.

They cut into their steaks in silence, the atmosphere becoming oppressive. Light crunches seemed to echo through the room as they all chewed slowly, deliberately gauging one another’s expressions.

“I think you know why we called you here,” Mr. Park muttered before taking another bite, a bite of its own to his tone.

“No… I don’t.” Dara said quietly, placing her fork and knife down. “What is it you want to talk about?”

Her father cocked an eyebrow at her before pulling out his cellphone.

“Private jet usage to Paris, France for a weekend. Then to Hawaii, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and now New York-“

“You called us here.”

“Do not interrupt me, Sandara.” He gave her a glare that shot a chill through the room. “Jiyeon tells me you’ve been almost completely absent from the Seoul headquarters for almost a month, telling her things like you’re ‘off limits’. Splurging money on weekend getaways, ignoring the company… what the hell has gotten into you, Sandara?”

“I won’t be official head of the company for a few more weeks. I thought I’d get some time off to enjoy some freedom before I become CEO.” She shrugged and sent Jiyong a glance, embarrassment tinting her cheeks.

“Freedom? Like heading the company is some kind of jail sentence?” He fisted the smooth dining cloth as if to repress an outburst they all knew was coming.

“No… Dad. But when I do become head, it’s not like I’ll have all the time in the world to do things I want to do.”

“You have responsibilities, Sandara. You can’t just ignore them because you want to go gallivanting around with your boyfriend.”

“Don’t bring Ji into this, Dad.”

“Oh? But he’s the one you’ve been taking to all these places. He’s the one that’s been distracting you, fogging up your mind, making you into this irresponsible-“

“Dad! Stop!” She squeezed Jiyong’s hand underneath the table, her cheeks reddening and vision going the same color.

“You’re like an errant child running off with some boy! You’re not sixteen anymore, Sandara! Do you not think of your family?! Of the company your mother and I have worked for 30 years to build?! Do you only think of yourself?! Are you truly that ungrateful, Sandara?!”

Her eyes flicked to her mother, almost begging her to pull her dad away and stop this barrage against her but she was met with cold eyes. So… her mother felt the same.

“I was in a coma for three months, Father.” She said fiercely, eyes shooting back to him. “I missed three whole months of my life and spent weeks not knowing who I was. So forgive me for thinking of myself for once. Forgive me for not stepping into the corporate world the moment things settled down, the moment my world realigned. FORGIVE ME for trying to live my life and enjoy it with someone I love. Forgive me, father. I must have sinned so greatly.” She threw her napkin onto the table and shot up, grabbing Jiyong to follow her.

“Where are you going?” Her mother shot up as well, tears b in her eyes.

“Away. We need to get away.”

“Again?” Her father shook his head, and moved to block the exitway. “Running away again? Where did you learn this kind of behavior? From him?” He cocked his head toward Jiyong, expression filled with disgust.

“I wouldn’t keep running away if there wasn’t a reason to,” Dara spat as she bolted, ready to push her dad to the side if needed.

“Stop, Sandara. You have to stop this.” Mr. Park stood firm, glaring down at his daughter.

“Stop what? This fight?! Just let us leave and it’ll stop! You brought this on yourself! You brought me here just to rip into me again, Dad. YOU NEED TO STOP!” She almost shouted, closing up from the onslaught of hot tears.

“No. You must stop seeing him, Sandara.”

“What?” She stumbled backwards, the words hitting her square in the chest.

“You must stop seeing him. He is no good for you, no good for this family, and even worse for this company. I will not have this anymore.”

“Don’t-“

“You will stop seeing him. From the moment he entered your life, he’s brought nothing but strife and danger. He got you kidnapped for God’s sake, Sandara! Open your eyes! This little tryst has gone on long enough! It WILL stop now.”

“You can’t tell me to do that.” She shook her head, eyes burning into her father. “You don’t have the right-“

“I have every right in the world to protect my daughter from scum. You will stop seeing him.”

“No. I won’t.” She shook her head again, fingers entwining into Jiyong’s and squeezing tight. “I won’t leave him. No matter what you say. No matter what you do.”

“You leave him or I’m cutting you off.”

Silence filled the room as the tension threatened to suffocate them. Dara glared up at her father, a mix of shock and despondent pain in her eyes.

“Fine,” she whispered, eyes locked onto Mr. Park’s. “I lived without all this and with Jiyong before. And I was happy.”

“You are being a fool, Sandara.” Her father inched toward her, fury now blazing in his eyes. “Why pick him when there are so many other great men out there just dying for your hand in marriage?”

She shook her head and moved to leave again.

“Seungri is perfect for you, Sandara.” Her mother chimed in from behind, voice gentle. “He would be a good husband, a wonderful father. Such a successful young man.”

“Then you marry him, mother.” She spat as she barreled her way to the door.

“SANDARA!” Mr. Park’s voice thundered through the room. “You’re really choosing that man over your family and this company?”

She turned slowly, eyes watering, the pain in her chest threatening to suffocate her.

“Are you really making me choose?”

“I’m doing what’s best for us,” He nodded resolutely, opening his arms out as if for an embrace. “Give me back the Sandara I used to know. Or would you really give up all you have, give up your inheritance, give up your company, your family for that man?”

“I’d give everything up for him,” She said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “So cut me off. Take away my inheritance. Take away my rights to this company. Because I will not leave him. Ever.”

Jiyong watched as her father and mother ‘s expressions darkened before Dara pulled him out of the room and into the elevator. He watched as she hastily wiped away the tears staining her cheeks. They arrived in the lobby and he still couldn’t do anything but… watch.

“I’m so sorry, Ji. I had no idea he… they… would do this.” She grabbed his hand and led him out of the elevator and into the lobby. “I’m so sorry.” She turned to him and grabbed his face, sobs heaving at her chest. He could tell she was trying to keep them in. Keep herself steady.

“Don’t.” He wiped the tears away gently, his own emotions pulling at his throat.

“We’ll be okay. We’ll be fine. They’re crazy for thinking I’d give you up for what they have. I can’t believe they’d do this,” She said in one long breath, eyes shifting back and forth from the rush of emotion.

“You shouldn’t…”

“I know… I know I shouldn’t have let you seen all that. I’m sorry, Jagi…” Her voice quieted as she took in the look in his eyes.

“No… you shouldn’t do this.” He whispered.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t do this…” He flinched away from her touch, voice barely audible.

“Do what?”

“This! Give up all you are, everything you have… you shouldn’t do this.”

“What are you talking about? If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be here! I… I wouldn’t be the person I am! I…” She ran her fingers through her hair, hot tears burning at again. “What are you trying to say, Ji?”

“I’m trying to say… Maybe we need some time apart. To think.” He shrugged in desperation, eyes searching hers. “We’ve spent every second of the last month together. We need time apart to clear our heads. To think this through.”

She stumbled back a few steps, a new rush of pain in her chest making it difficult to breathe. Her head slumped, eyes b with tears beyond her control.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?! No!” He grabbed her and forced her face up to his. “No! I just… we need some time alone to think. Clear our heads, okay? Just for tonight.”

He wiped away the tears staining her cheeks, a heavy feeling pulling at his stomach.

“Just for tonight, D. I’ll be back in the morning…”

“What about the promise?” Her eyes begged his.

“What promise?”

“The one we made. We promised to hold on to that feeling… no matter what happens, we’ll stay. We’ll stay with each other! Just like this, happy just like we were, we’ll stay like that! We’ll stay together!” She yelled, clutching the fabric along his shoulders.

He shook his head, shoulders slumped and eyes watering.

“Just for tonight, D. I just… We just need one night to think things over. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Her hands fell onto his chest and she shook her head, pushing him away without a word.

“I’ll be back.” He reached out to her but she moved away, eyes lingering on him before she turned toward the elevator and walked away.

“I’ll be back…” He whispered again, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.






He slowly made his way out of the Four Seasons and took a right, not really caring where he went.

”From the moment he entered your life, he’s brought nothing but strife and danger…”

He flinched again at the words.

”He got you kidnapped for God’s sake, Sandara! Open your eyes…”

He made his way up another street, small raindrops beginning to dot the pavement around him. It was true… if he hadn’t gone to Jason’s compound in an ineffectual attempt to gain some sort of understanding of the monster, Jason would never have known where Dara was. He led Jason right to her.

”Vicious and charming – an expert at business sense and class. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Jiyong?”

The skies began raining down harder, the water slopping around on the gray streets of Lower Manhattan.

Her father was right. He had no place in Dara’s world. He navigated through it with embarrassing naiveté, practically clutching her hand in child-like idiocy just so he could experience it with her – experience anything with her. But he didn’t belong. He was educated, but not nearly as worldly as those who’d actually had the chance to travel the world. He had enough trouble just adjusting to jet setting.

He wasn’t incredibly talented, just hardworking. He had nothing outstanding behind his name, except a monster of a brother and a medical degree.

He didn’t belong in her world.



He made his way up another street, the light rainstorm now a torrential downpour.

She was right. The rain was coming.


He slumped down on steps outside of a brownstone, wiping away salty tears mixed into the rain barraging down on him.


He put his head into his hands and heaved in a desperate sigh. She couldn’t give all she had up for him. It wasn’t right. She deserved all she had, was perfect in the lifestyle she lived… there was no way he was going to make her give all that up just for him.

But he loved her. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he’d loved her more than he ever thought he could love anything in the world. Could he give her up? If it really was what was best for her?

He flinched when the door unlocked behind him and he whirled around to find an aged man standing in the door frame, red shirt on with the word PHILIPPINES emblazoned on it, black cap with the word SAN DIEGO, and blue Nike’s on. He almost smiled at the sight.

“I’m sorry… I’ll get off your steps,” he muttered as he clutched the railing to get up.

“No, don’t.” The man’s voice sounded like gravel. He smiled at him and took a seat in the lawn chair under the awning. “You seem like you’re having a hard time.”

“Do I?”

“Only people having a hard time walk around in the rain,” He chuckled as he pointed to the lawn chair across from him.

“Come. Sit. Talk with me.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to bother-“

“Why? Because I have so many other things to do?” He laughed again and pointed at the chair. “Sit. An old man like me welcomes times like these.”

Jiyong took up the seat and the jacket he hadn’t noticed the man had brought out.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Jiyong. Kwon Jiyong. What’s yours, sir?”

“Pastor.” He smiled, his kind eyes crinkling into crescents. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

He heaved in a sigh. There was so much to say… but was it really the place to let it all out? To this stranger?

Pastor looked him over again and nodded. “You can’t keep it all in, son. That’ll kill you.”

He furrowed his brows and shivered slightly. “My girlfriend… My girlfriend’s parents threatened to walk out of her life if she stayed with me and she said she would. She said she would give up everything she has for me… I don’t think she should do that for me.”

“Why?”

“Because she shouldn’t have to give up all she has just to be with me. It isn’t right.”

“Does she really, truly want to?”

“I think so..”

“Do you really, truly love each other?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He shrugged and laughed. “Nobody has a perfect love story, son. But when you come upon someone who will give up almost everything they have just to stay in your arms – that’s not someone you should let go. You love each other and when you have love as strong as that, things will fall into place.”

“But what if they don’t-“

“Stop thinking so much of all the reasons you shouldn’t be with her and think about all the reasons you have to be with her.” He said quietly, smiling at the woman peering outside from the hallway. “My wife and I have been married for 62 years. We’ve had rough times, but the good has always outweighed the bad. I’ve never thought that it wasn’t worth it to go through all the strife just to be with her. Because I love her and she loves me. And that’s all that matters.” He nodded toward the woman with a look in his eyes so familiar to Jiyong.





After refusing a warm meal once and a warm drink many more times, Jiyong headed out toward the streets again.

“Museum Mile,” he muttered to the cab driver. “The MOMA please.”


He made his way up toward the Van Gogh exhibit, ignoring the stares and mutters from the other patrons because of how soaked he was and took a seat right in front of Starry Night.

“Stop thinking so much of all the reasons you shouldn’t be with her and think about all the reasons you have to be with her…."

He stared into the blurring of blacks and blues, the swirls of yellow mixed so harshly into darkness.

”Nobody has a perfect love story, son. But when you come upon someone who will give up almost everything they have just to stay in your arms – that’s not someone you should let go…”

Beauty in pain…

”I’ve never thought that it wasn’t worth it to go through all the strife just to be with her…”


They’d gone through so much together, but had he really brought nothing but strife to her life? Had he really ushered in a new kind of Sandara? One that disappointed her family and neglected her company because of him?

Was he really so bad for her?


Had he been too selfish to want to keep her around?

Could he really give her up if it was best for her?

If being without him was better for her than being with him?


… Could he?



He put his head into his hands again, frustration and confusion making his head pound. If she stayed with him she would lose everything she had, everything she was – her family, her company, and everything that made her what and who she was…

But was the alternative so much better? To lose each other? Walk out of each other’s lives despite everything they’d gone through?


He looked up at the art pieces Dara loved so much, connected to so well, as if they would give him some kind of insight on what he should do.



“What should I do?” He whispered to himself.




“What should I do?”

---written by dolcevittaaa---