~Five years later~

 “Omma looks so beautiful,” you said as you looked at her reflection in the mirror.

The wedding dress hugged her womanly figure and trailed along the floor like cascading waterfalls.  She motioned for you to come over so you obeyed.  To your surprise, she took off her diamond tiara and placed it on your head. 

“I think my daughter looks even better,” she remarked with her hands on your shoulders.

Smiling sadly, you took the tiara off and said, “But you are the female lead today, not me.”

“You’ll be the lead one day,” she spoke with utmost certainty.

“We’ll see…” you replied and then cheerfully said, “Omma, let me fix up your makeup.”

Motioning for her to sit down, you grabbed a few make up palettes from the shelf.  With quick brushing motions, you applied a generous layer of eye shadow and blush to brighten up her complexion.

“Much better,” you complimented your own abilities. 

Your mother patted you on the back of your hand and you grinned cheekily. 

Placing your chin on her shoulder, you closed your eyes and sincerely said, “I’m glad Omma has found her happiness.”

“You will find yours too,” she winked for you to look out the window. 

Raising your brows, you pulled the curtains open.  A handsome young man, dressed like an entrepreneur, stood outside chitchatting nonchalantly to other guest.  You shook your head, half smiling at your mother’s constant attempts to introduce you to blind dates. 

At the wedding reception, you greeted guest and laughed happily as people piled into the beautiful outdoor venue. 

“You’re Soyeon’s daughter?  Are you serious?  Your mother looks so young, I thought you were her younger sister,” a lady commented.

“Yep, I get that a lot,” you agreed, chuckling.

“Wow ________ah, you’ve grown up into such a beautiful woman,” another one complimented and you shook your head shyly. 

After a few rounds of guests, you were getting a little tipsy so you retreated to a nearby tree to rest. 

“Ah, beautiful shade,” you sighed to no one in particular. 

You threw off your ankle-cutting heels and snuggled your feet into the grass.  Giggling like a little girl, you let the soil and grass pile onto the valleys of your toes. 

Suddenly, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, interrupting you from your childish play.  You turned around.  The same young man, from before, bowed a few times to greet you.  Flustered, you quickly put your shoes back on, but the straps were a struggle, so you ungracefully stuck half your foot into the front of the shoe. 

“Hi.  I’m Zhang YiXing.  Nice to meet you,” he bowed again.

“Hey…” you awkwardly greeted as you attempted to fix the straps on your shoe. 

To you dismay, he held out his hand for a handshake.  You took it but because you were bent over from your disastrous shoe dilemma, you ended up using his hand to stop your mini-balancing act.

“Omgosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologized the moment you were able to stand up straight. 

He laughed, “Well, that’s a unique first meeting…”

“Uh oh, bad first impression, huh?  Am I down to negative 10 points?” you joked.

“Not quite.  Just different…Ms…” his sentence trailed and you finally realized you didn’t introduce yourself.

“_________ _________,” you say.

“_________ssi, nice to meet you,” he politely bowed again.

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied. 

From there, you guys hit it off.  You chatted about things from food to sports to jobs.  You discovered that he owned a music studio (LOL #SLAY Panda Unnie wrote this almost 2.5yrs ago when YiXing didn't own a music studio yet.  I secretly must be a fortune teller :p) and was interested in getting the interior re-designed so you happily swapped business cards with one another.  He complimented on how gorgeous you looked and you flirted back by calling him, “Mr. Good Lookin’”.  But somewhere deep down, you wished he had been someone else…someone you longed for everyday, every minute, every second for the past five years of your life. 

The bell rang to announce that the ceremony was beginning.  YiXing and you walked to take your seats at the venue. 

As you watched your mother walk down the aisle, you sniffled back tears of joy.  Beside you, YiXing handed you a tissue and you graciously accepted it.

After all the celebrations concluded, your mother persuaded the young entrepreneur to drive you home.  You politely declined but he insisted so you surrendered. 

“No wonder you’re the boss of a music studio,” you stated when a beautiful classical piece played in the car.

“Thanks, I wrote that,” he informed.

He was respectful and courteous, not to mention really good looking – basically the perfect guy.  However, you couldn’t get yourself to fall for him.  Unconsciously, you fingers looped around the heart-shaped necklace around your neck. 

When you were home, you bowed a few times to thank for the ride and waved at him to leave.  But you weren’t at all surprised when he waited until you were completely safe in the house before leaving. 

Very Responsible.  You mentally wondered if you should give him a chance but the ringing of your phone interrupted your wandering mind.  It was your boss.

“Hello?” you picked up and said.

“Hey.  _______ah, sorry to call you on your day off…” he started.

“That’s fine,” you replied, curious as to what the phone call would be about.

“I guess your name is getting famous in the industry.  A client specifically requested that you design his new home,” your boss spoke and your eyes lit up.

“Really?” you asked, unable to believe the news.

“Yeah, I forwarded you a few blueprints and background information.  Send me some drafts if you’re interested in the job,” he said.

“Sure thing.  Thanks!” you said and hung up.

Scrambling to your room, you grabbed your laptop to check your email.  You’ve been in the industry for five years so designing and drafting out a home’s layout wasn’t difficult at all – in fact, it started to get a little repetitive.  But the fact that this client had specifically asked for you gave you a huge confidence boost.

From the email, you discovered that the client was a young businessman with a toddler son.  All the floor plans were already completed by your boss so the remaining task was to design a playroom for the boy. Excited, you opened your drawing pad and began to brainstorm some ideas. 

“Little children like to climb,” you mumbled to yourself as you bit your pen in your mouth. 

Mountain?  Ropes?  Stairs?

“Treehouse…” you whispered, your pen frozen in place.    

“The room will be a tree house theme.  So there’s a tree trunk-shaped ladder that our child can climb to get to the bed.  Above the bed, there’s a hammock so he can take relaxing naps on it.  And on the empty area beneath the bed, there would be a tunnel or maybe storage for the toys...”

Dropping your pen, you the picture frame on your desk. 

“Youngwoo-yah…” you called to the baby in the picture.

Taking the picture up to your face, you kissed the glass, forever wondering how your little boy was doing.  He would be five this year, which meant, he probably started kindergarten. 

“Did you cry the first day of class?” you asked, not expecting an answer.

You wondered how he looked like - definitely not like the tiny bundle of joy in the picture.  Youngwoo was probably taller, weighed a lot more, and laughed all day long while pulling tricks on his father and…Minyoung.

With a sigh, you placed the frame back onto your desk.

“You wouldn’t be angry at Omma if she used your playroom design as the base for this little boy’s room, right?” you stared into the picture but there was no answer.

Smiling sadly, you picked up your drawing pad and continued sketching out the room. 

—–

A few days later, you received a pleasant surprise.  With curly hair and a floral summer dress, your mother knocked on your office door.  You looked up from your laptop, grinning brightly at the beauty before you.  Throwing your glasses sloppily on the desk, you ran up to her with opened arms.

“Ommaaaa!” you shouted.

She patted your back and said, “Silly girl.  You act as though I’ve been gone for years.  It’s only been three days.”

“That’s right.  Why are you back?” you narrowed your eyes and gasped, “Is Uncle Tom not treating you well?”

“No.  Of course not, Silly.  He’s off on a quick business trip so Omma thought she’d drop by and check on her precious daughter,” she said, pinching your cheeks.

Exaggerating a sob, you complained, “It’s been so lonely by myself, staring at the four walls of my room.”

She whacked your head, “Yeah, right…I bet you were staring into the computer screen with your drawing pad on your lap.”

You raised both hands in defeat. 

“Though…” she sheepishly grinned, “I heard that someone finally opened your heart and got your number…”

Laughing nervously, you tried to escape the room but your mother grabbed your arm.

“So…any possible sparks?” she interrogated.

You threw your head back in defeat and replied, “Mmm…maybe…”.

“Maybe?  Tell me more,” she grilled.

“Uh…he’s handsome…” you shyly admitted.

“And…?”

“And polite…and talented…and hard working…” you continued.

“But not Oh Sehun,” your mother knowingly finished with a sad smile. 

What?  How did…she know?  You blinked a few times and then hung your head.  For that moment, you felt like a young teenage girl who had been caught red-handed smuggling hoards of chocolate into her room.

Your mother reached for the necklace around your neck and sighed. 

“It’s okay though…take your time,” she comforted, patting your arm, “But don’t cry alone in your room anymore.  Let Omma cry with you.”

With watery eyes, you wrapped your arms around her and cried into her chest.  She was warm and comfy, calmly your back as you poured your heart out.  Deep down, you knew that it didn’t matter if five years or ten years or an eternity passed, you wouldn’t be able to forget the two loves of your life – Sehun and Youngwoo. 

Your phone vibrated.  Wiping your tears, you reached into your pocket and took out your smartphone. 

“Zhang YiXing,” the screen read.     

“Let me answer it for you,” your mother offered but you shook your head.

“Hello?” you spoke into the phone.

“Hey, _________ssi, I’m right by you neighborhood.  Do you want to go grab lunch with me?” he asked.

Guiltily, you declined, “Maybe next time.  I have a bit of drafts I’m trying to complete.”

“Oh…next time then,” he said, his voice filled with disappointment. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you bid farewell and hung up.  Almost as soon as you do, your phone rang again in your hands.  Thinking it was YiXing again; you looked to your mom to come to your rescue.  She walked over and took your phone. 

“________ah, it’s your boss,” she said and handed you back the phone.

“Hello?” you greeted.

“_________ah, I just called to notify you that the client really loved the drafts you sent.  Upon your approval, I’ll have Annie and Mark start building the pieces,” he notified.

“Wait…” you spoke, “the project means a lot to me.  Do you think I can build it myself?  I know I haven’t done interior construction for a while, but I really want to tackle this one.”

The silence on the other end caused the beating of your heart to echo in your ears.  You bit your lips. 

Finally, your boss responded, “Though I’m not too keen on that idea…I don’t think it should be a problem.  I’ll have Annie and Mark on standby in case you need them.”

With a sigh in relief, you exclaimed, “Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!”

Chuckling at your excitement, he said, “Drop by my office to pick up the key.”

After hanging up, you jumped around in joy.  The corners of my lips touched your cheeks from grinning so wide.  Your mother looked at you as if you were bipolar. 

“Are you heading out?” your mother asked with crossed arms.

“Yeah.  My boss just passed down a project to me,” you informed but paused when you noticed that your mother looked disappointed.

“I stopped by to accompany you and you ditch me?” she pretended to complain.

Giggling, you wrapped your arms around her and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be home for dinner.”

Her eyes lit up and she offered, “Since I’ll be gone for a few months for my honey moon, let Omma cook you dinner.  What would you like to eat?”

Beaming, you slyly asked, “Anything?”

“Anything” your mother firmly replied.

With your arms on your hips, you triumphantly requested, “Fried chicken wings.”

“Aigoo, so fatty…” she shook her head.

Frowning, you stared at her with puppy eyes.  With a crushed expression, you turned to head out the door.

“…though once in a while it’s okay…” she spoke.

Hahaha.  Passive aggressiveness: 1.  Omma:0.  You chuckled wickedly.

“Okay, Omma will make it.  It’ll test my culinary skills,” she surrendered, defeated.

Still giggling, you turned around and kissed her on the cheek.  With a swift , you threw on your tan jacket and headed out the door.  You were unsure if you were more excited about constructing the playroom or eating the fried chicken.  Eh…I can be greedy and love both, huh?

“Make sure you come home early!” your mother’s holler echoed down the hallway.

“I will!” you shouted back, waving goodbye to her. 

After picking up the keys from your boss, you drove to the nearby Ikeas and Home Depot to pick up some supplies and furniture.  At first, you slightly felt like a deer in headlights, having not done hands-on work for so long, but you were willing to learn along the way. 

You knew that the tree house required lots of wood so you purchased a full cart of lumber.  At the paint section, you grabbed lots of foresty colors, such as green, amber, yellow, and chestnut brown.  Satisfied with your selections, you went to admire the furniture section.

The store was humongous.  Sofas and couches lined from one end of the hallway to the other.  You could barely see the end of the row; the last one appeared as small as the size of a pencil.  Rolling around on a mattress, you giggled like a child at a candy store. 

“You know what…” you said out loud and then hysterically laughed. 

The client seemed…uh rich.  So it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to buy all the most exp