At 11 PM, the hallway was quiet. Patients were sound asleep inside their rooms, their family members also in deep slumber. Visitors no longer littered the halls as the visitation time had already ended.

Only two people were present – a mother and her son.

Jae-Yeong sat one chair away from the woman who gave birth to him. From his peripheral vision, he could see her glancing at his direction every now and then. She was probably gauging if she should speak again to him, looking at her son for the first time in nearly thirty years.

He didn’t know how to feel either. Should he be happy? Angry? Relieved?

And he still had other things to think about.

They didn’t have a dramatic reunion dramas would often portray between mothers and their lost sons. In fact, once Jae-Yeong stepped in the room, they just shared a look, which suggested both parties finally figured out. He invited her out.

And the explanations began.

Her story matched with his father’s; they were teenagers in love before college ended – teenagers in love who fell victim to his father’s power in the arena of business. They had to end their relationship when Jae-Yeong’s grandfather demanded that he marry someone else. But little did they know, she was pregnant when they ended.

That’s when she stopped talking.

He could feel her looking at him with such intensity; she probably wanted him to speak. There were plenty of questions swimming in his mind right now but he was scared to ask the most pressing one.

What do you say to the mother who abandoned you?

“Jae-Yeong?”

She said his name tentatively.

“Is that even my real name?” he asked her.

She looked at him with uncertainty, probably surprised with his sudden question. Jae-Yeong realized that he could’ve asked something else.

“Yes,” she said, “I wrote your name on a note, which I left on the basket.”

So, he was left in a basket on his father’s doorstep.

He stared at the face of his mother. He couldn’t point at it, but there was something familiar about her. His curiosity, however, was brushed off by the thought of her easily leaving him. Granted, she left him with his biological father. But there was a gaping hole of emptiness due to that realization.

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

Nurse Lee Yoon-Ah took a moment to breathe. She was collecting her thoughts, probably wondering how to tell her son his story. Jae-Yeong, on the other hand, was thinking about the excuses she’d probably come up with.

“Why did you leave?” he asked again, “Didn’t you...love me?”

It sounded so pathetic coming from him. As Wang So or Hwang  Jae-Yeong, he was known for being iron-clad and strong; nothing could make him quiver. Hearing his voice break, however, made him realize his deeper weaknesses.

She looked at him.

“I’ve always been watching you from afar. I read newspapers, watched TV, and searched the Internet to see how you were doing,” she told him, “When I see how you’ve grown and how your father has taken care of you, it assures me that I did the right thing of giving you back to him.”

“Why?”

It was all he could say.

Nurse Lee’s hand wanted to reach out for him, but sensed it might be too early for some motherly affection. Jae-Yeong wasn’t even sure if he was up for that affection – despite the fact that he longed for it.

“I...I was young. I didn’t know what to do. So much happened during that time – the love of my life just left me to fulfil his duties and I wasn’t doing well with my career,” she explained, “The thought of raising a child on my own scared me. I wasn’t sure I could give you what you needed, that I could be the mother who could raise you.”

“But I didn’t want you to go to a stranger, either,” she continued, “I thought that the best place for you was to be with your father.”

“Why doesn’t he know?”

“Because I didn’t tell him; I didn’t want to bother him anymore. His father warned me of trying to reach his son. I couldn’t do anything and I knew that if he knew about our child, he would leave everything,” she said, “But he couldn’t afford to leave and I knew millions would reap the consequences. So, I kept it to myself.”

“In the end, I decided to give you back to him.”

Her lips quivered. Jae-Yeong saw his mother’s eyes glass up, almost as if she was going to cry. Despite the sad image of his mother, he still didn’t know how to react. There was a jumble of emotions inside him; he didn’t know how to sort it out.

“You grew up so well.”

There was fond tone in her voice; then he felt a soft touch. He looked and saw that his mother reached out and touched his hand. She didn’t hug him immediately or kiss him on the cheek; he guessed she considered it the safest move.

But for Jae-Yeong, it was the most surreal feeling in the world. He didn’t want to move his hand at all.

“Paging for Nurse Lee Yoon-Ah,” came a voice from the speakers, “Nurse Lee Yoon-Ah, please proceed to the nurses’ station immediately.”

Immediately, that warm feeling on his hand was gone. She looked at him apologetically, unsure if she should leave him there. Jae-Yeong was torn – he wanted to be alone, but he didn’t want his mother to leave either. A part of him wanted to cling unto her, but the other part said she was still a stranger who left him on his father’s doorstep.

She stood up.

“Oh and by the way, thank you for the flowers,” she told him, and left.

At first, he didn’t understand what she just said.

Flowers? What flowers? When did I give her flowers?

It was then he realized.

On the outside, Ha-Jin looked composed, albeit she was shaking. But on the inside, she was screaming.

She couldn’t, however, let Ji-Woo see.

“I heard that Jae-Yeong hyung’s dad is in the hospital,” he told her while pouring a cup of mocha for a customer, “My mom mentioned it once she got home last night. The hospital was too crowded and there were plenty of cars, she had a hard time getting out.”

She winced when she heard him say Jae-Yeong hyung.

“Hey noona, are you okay?” he asked, “You’ve been all fidgety since you came here. Are you sick?”

“No, no, I’m just...a little distracted,” she told him.

“Ah, you’re just like Ki-Joo,” he commented, “You know ever since he started dating Park Hanna, he hasn’t been himself lately? He actually forgot his shift yesterday because of it. So annoying.”

Ha-Jin watched as Ji-Woo attended to a new customer. There was so much about him that she wanted to say, but she knew it wouldn’t be the right timing.

It was surreal: he was actually Jae-Yeong’s brother – well, half brother. She hadn’t told Jae-Yeong about it, but she realized the truth when she they got the name from Ji Eun’s sister (who was the best friend of Hwang Kwang-Soo’s former flame), she thought it sounded so familiar.

Then she remembered that one time she talked to Ji-Woo after getting hospitalized.

“My mother’s a nurse there! I think she tended to you. Her name’s Lee Yoon-Ah?”

She was sorely tempted to tell Jae-Yeong about her realization. Upon seeing his distressed face, however, she figured that telling him about Ji-Woo might shake things. It was best if his mother told him about it.

His mother who, she just realized, was Lady Oh.

“Hey noona, are you free this afternoon?” asked the dongsaeng.

“Uh...I think so,” she said, thinking that Jae-Yeong was pretty much loaded for the day, “Why?”

“You want to go out with me?” he said, “I need to spend time with someone.”

She looked at Jae-Yeong’s clueless half-brother. True enough, the past weeks have been nothing but stressful for her. Part of her worries were about work, but a bigger part focused on Jae-Yeong – his impending marriage to Nari, the truth about his adoption, and all things about him.

She needed a break.

“Sure, why not?”

It had only been two weeks since his father’s complete recovery but for Jae-Yeong, it felt like years. The change of scenery was enough to make him believe it’s been years.

For one, his step-mother completely stopped talking to him. She no longer hid her displeasure with him, but she didn’t hate him all the way. He always caught her in a heated discussion with her biological sons, arguing about Jae-Yeong.

Fortunately, his two brothers always had his back. It was good to have them there, particularly Il-Sung.

As for his biological mother, Jae-Yeong hadn’t spoken to her since the last time. She never dropped by his father’s room again after that; it was then Jae-Yeong found out that she wasn’t really assigned to his room or ward. She was just dropping by to see him. Judging from his father’s lack of clue about her presence, Jae-Yeong figured that his mother might have visited while he was asleep.

“I finished drafting the proposals for that company in Busan,” Tae-Won was saying as Jae-Yeong finished his nth cup of coffee, “I hope they say yes. They seemed a bit enthusiastic.”

“Have we closed another branch again?”

“We had to, but I hope that’s the last one,” sighed Tae-Won, “Il-Sung hyung’s out there, trying to come up with a brilliant business plan or something. At least, he’s trying his best.”

“Yes, that’s good.”

They were working at the hospital cafeteria. Tae-Won was glad with the strong Wi-Fi connection; he said he didn’t have to go to work when he could finish it at the hospital. At least, he said, they could still look after their father.

Every now and then, the brothers would take turns visiting the head office, but whenever they could, they would take care of their father. Whenever he was conscious, Hwang Kwang-Soo would take care of business in his own little way, too. But his boys insisted that he rest as much as possible.

“I think we should go up,” said Jae-Yeong, “Father might be awake.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

No one has mentioned about his biological status anymore. Ji-Hyun advised against making it public right now; he said the media would go wild. The company was already experiencing such frenzy with the monetary issues already. They didn’t want more news; otherwise, his father might break down.

Once they reached his father’s room, Jae-Yeong heard a distinct sound of discussion.

“Does Father have visitors?” he asked his dongsaeng.

Together, they went inside.

Kang Shin-Jae was comfortably seated opposite his father when both brothers went inside. His daughter, Nari, stood beside him, her eyes flashing at them. There were other people inside as well; Jae-Yeong recognized them as the top executives from the Kang Group.

Apparently, they were discussing business.

“Ah, there’s my future son-in-law!” burst Kang Shin-Jae.

Future son-in-law?

Both Jae-Yeong and Tae-Won froze; the former looked at his father in shock and surprise. Hwang Kwang-Soo did not seem apologetic. In fact, his face said that his eldest son should’ve expected it.

“Future son-in-law?” asked Tae-Won, “I thought that was up for discussion first?”

“Ah, well your father over here is eager with it,” said Kang Shin-Jae, “And I know that you need the help. Why delay right?”

“I understand that,” answered Hwang Kwang-Soo, “It’s a privilege you are still giving us the second chance despite Il-Sung’s mistake.”

“No problem. But isn’t that why camaraderie exists?”

“That is true.”

The two executives smiled at each other, ignoring the look of shock on the younger Hwangs’ faces. Even Nari added her beautiful smile to the mix. She bowed her head as Hwang Kwang-Soo praised her for giving the family a second chance, despite the falling out with Il-Sung. She brushed away their praises, saying, “Anything to help.”

Then she looked at Jae-Yeong.

--

“How could you agree to them without my consent?”

Jae-Yeong tried to keep his fury subdued, remembering that his father was still in a delicate condition. But the thought that Hwang Kwang-Soo willingly sold him out to Kang Shin-Jae made his blood boil. His father must’ve been really desperate.

“We don’t have any choice.”

“We do! We just haven’t found it yet!”

“What are we waiting for then?”

Jae-Yeong stood opposite his father. It’s been an hour since Kang Shin-Jae and his group left, leaving a tensed atmosphere between father and sons. Tae-Won excused himself to allow his hyung to discuss matters with their father.

“Father, this is absurd,” said Jae-Yeong, “That woman was supposed to marry Il-Sung and you want me to marry her?”

Hwang Kwang-Soo faltered but remained determined. “We do not have much of a choice, son,” he said, “It’s our responsibility to care for the people. Do you not think we have lost a lot already?”

Jae-Yeong read the news. He was no stranger to the damaging effects their downfall had to the economy.

“I cannot bear to see more people suffer from our mistakes,” his father said, “I don’t want that to happen again.”

“But Father,” said Jae-Yeong, “Marriage isn’t always the way. I...I can’t marry Nari.”

“Why not? You used to be head over heels with that girl.”

“I’m not anymore. I can’t marry her.”

There was silence between father and son.

“Is it because of that girl from the cosmetics shop?” asked Hwang Kwang-Soo.

For a second, Ha-Jin’s face popped in his head.

“Yes.”

Hwang Kwang-Soo was torn between shock and expecting it. Jae-Yeong took advantage of the moment.

“That girl from the cosmetics shop,” he said, “I love her.”

He approached his father’s bedside.

“I love her, Father. I love that woman,” he declared, “I can’t marry Nari. My heart will never belong to her. I love...that girl from the cosmetics shop.”

He saw that look of familiarity on his father’s face. Jae-Yeong knew his father could perfectly understand what he was talking about.

“Son,” began Hwang Kwang-Soo, “I...I don’t think...as the heir of the company, responsibility should always be at the forefront of your priorities. You should be prepared to throw some things away for the greater good.”

“Oh, just like how you threw my mother away?”

“What?”

Kwang-Soo’s face transformed; Jae-Yeong knew he hit a nerve. But there was no stopping the younger Hwang from speaking his mind.

“I know what you did to save your company before I was born. I know that you threw away the love of your life just to fulfil your responsibilities,” he told his father, “But when you did, you didn’t know that she had to carry your child for nine months – all by herself. She was too alone she had no choice but to give me back to you so that I would have a bright future.”

“See here, Jae-Yeong—“

“She gave me away because she couldn’t raise me by herself; because the one she loved chose the company over her,” continued Jae-Yeong, “Can you imagine the fear? She must’ve thought her future was secure...but you left.”

“It was not my choice.”

“We have choices, Father. It’s what sets us apart from the rest.”

Jae-Yeong was breathing heavily as he remembered his mother’s face. His father, on the other hand, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I don’t know how you knew about that,” began his father, “But you are right. I did have a choice and I chose to focus on those who needed help than myself. Was it easy? No, it was not. She was the love of my life. I wanted to be with her. I did not know there was a child. Had I known, would thing have been different? I do not know.”

“Believe me, Jae-Yeong. I did not wish to leave her alone, but what could I do?” he continued, “A number of people depended on my decision. Lives and families relied on our company’s stability. If I chose to be happy, a child would probably be starving because his father lost his job. I told Yoon-Ah about it. She understood.”

Kwang-Soo looked at his son.

“You are right when you say we have a choice. We all have. But the question is, will your choice benefit only yourself and harm others?”

Ha-Jin had not seen Jae-Yeong for days already. He had sent occasional texts every now and then, calling her when he could. So far, all she knew about him was that he had talked to his mother – that was it.

She wanted to visit him at the hospital, but she knew now was not the right time. When he told her about his step-mother’s rage, she knew her presence wouldn’t do the brothers any good. But she wanted to see him.

It was her break time and she sat on a bench situated within the nearby park.

Ha-Jin was eating her sandwich in silence, mulling over the past events. Everything has been crazy for Jae-Yeong. She wished she could support him personally, but the best she could do was send prayers for him, hoping the deities wouldn’t be so mean to him in this life.

She smiled as she watched the children run around, climbing up the ladders, and gaily sliding down, their laughter echoing joyfully.

“Ah, that’s adorable,” she muttered.

“Tell me about it.”

A man, probably in his mid-thirties, smiled at her. There was nothing suspicious about him; in fact, he smiled warmly despite looking so tired. He was holding a small doll in his hands.

“Oh...are you here for your child?” she asked.

“Yes, the one in pink,” he said, pointing at the adorable little girl who was enjoying the swings with a friend.

“Your daughter is lovely,” said Ha-Jin, “Is she in primary school?”

The man sighed. “Supposedly,” he answered, “She had to stop schooling.”

There was a sad tone in the stranger’s voice. Ha-Jin watched as he gazed at his daughter longingly.

“I’m sorry,” said Ha-Jin.

“No, you shouldn’t be,” replied the man, “It’s not your fault my company closed.”

“Your company?”

“The shop I worked in downsized. They stopped receiving funds from the Hwang Corporation, you see,” he said, “Since they didn’t have enough money for staff, they had to let some of us go. I don’t know if you heard about it, but the entire thing is pretty big in the business world.”

Ha-Jin felt a lump in . Unbeknownst to the man, that inner struggle started inside of her and it was a pretty unpleasant one.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she told him, “I really am.”

“Ah, what is there to be sorry about anyway?” asked the man wistfully, watching his daughter, “I’m sorry I can’t even find a new job to sustain my daughter’s education. It’s no wonder her mother doesn’t want me to show myself. I can’t even go near my own child unless I pay for support again.”

The little girl played blissfully. It was then Ha-Jin realized that the little girl probably had no idea her father watched her from a distance.

“My ex-wife tried looking for a job so she wouldn’t depend on me, but the economy’s so bleak, even she’s having a hard time. Everyone is,” he continued, “And she has the guts to keep my little Soo-Yeon away from me just because I got no job.”

“Can’t you just approach your daughter?”

“I can, but my ex-wife might sue or something. I don’t want trouble.” He held the doll tighter in his hands.

He sighed as he smiled at the sound of his little girl’s boisterous giggle. Ha-Jin, on the other hand, couldn’t think. She had stopped eating her sandwich; the man’s story made her lose her appetite.

“Isn’t it funny how one day your life is all organized and the next thing you know, it’s all messed up?” wondered the stranger, “Ah this domino effect. I wonder if I was such a sinner in my previous life that I ended up in such a predicament.”

The domino effect.

She knew the extent of power Jae-Yeong’s company had over South Korea. Owning pretty much everything, they covered pretty much everything as well. The recent blow to their group caused a massive shake in the business scene, which also impacted the country’s economy. It did not do them any good and as a result, there were lay-offs and other consequences.

It was only now that Ha-Jin saw it with her own eyes.

Ha-Jin glanced at the man whose eyes were still on his daughter. There was such longing in his eyes, she could practically feel his pain. Her chest ached.

“Would you like me to give her your doll?” she asked him. The man looked at her hopefully, a small smile on his face.

“Yes please, I want her to know that Daddy hasn’t forgotten her,” he said, handing her the small doll, “I should get going now, actually. My friends might get me a job from a construction site.”

“I wish you good luck, sir.”

The stranger stood up and thanked her again. He cast his daughter one last look – one filled with longing and sadness. Ha-Jin stood up and bowed. The man thanked her and left, leaving Ha-Jin with the doll.

She watched the man as he walked away. Her heart ached at the sight of him; he definitely missed his daughter. The laughter of the children, however, brought her back to her senses. She walked towards the swings where the little girl giggled, clueless to the fact that her father was just watching her.

“Hi,” she told the little girl, “I believe this is your doll.”

“Oh my, it’s Sunny!” exclaimed the little girl, taking the doll from Ha-Jin’s hands, “Thank you, unnie!” then she looked around, “Is my Daddy here?”

“He was,” answered Ha-Jin, “But he had to go find work. He said he loves you.”

The little girl’s eyes lit up. “Really? Where is he?” she asked, looking around.

“He had to leave.”

The girl’s happy expression melted into a disappointed one. “Oh,” she said, “Why does he always leave? I   wish   he knows I love him."

Ha-Jin smiled at her. “I’m sure he already knows that.”

The little girl smiled at her and returned to the swings to be with her friends, leaving Ha-Jin with her thoughts. The sight of a daughter torn apart from her father because of a lost job pained her somewhere.

This was the effect of what seemed like a little mistake.

It wasn’t a little one, after all.

“Miss Go Ha-Jin?”

Three men in suits approached her.

“Yes?”

“Can you come with us? The President is looking for you.”

--

She didn’t know what to do or what to think anymore. But Ha-Jin knew better than to break down or throw a fit. She couldn’t do both in front of one of South Korea’s most powerful men; she couldn’t break down in front of her lover’s father.

She never thought she’d end up in front of the Emperor’s presence again.

Unlike his previous incarnation, however, Hwang Kwang-Soo did not glare at her or demand so harshly of her. He did not point a finger at her nor did his presence insist that she get down on her knees.

Instead, he was a father who pleaded for his son.

His request left her speechless. It wasn’t as if she had never heard of this request before; during her previous life, it wasn’t even a request. The Princess and her brother separately approached her and the King respectively, telling them of the consequences of their choices. This time, it was neither the princess nor her brother.

It was the father.

He was looking intently at her.

“I know you love my son,” he said, “I have no doubt that you do, but I hope you understand the gravity of the situation.”

Ha-Jin did not speak, but she knew she understood the situation perfectly. The evidence was everywhere – from the blaring headlines on today’s papers to the face of the father she met by the park this afternoon.

“A lot of lives rest on our shoulders; I am after the greater good and I know my son is too. He just cannot accept the way we have,” continued Hwang Kwang-Soo, “He cannot because of you.”

She met the corporation’s President’s gaze. Despite being confined to his bed, he sat upright and looking determined yet gentle. She sensed he was trying to break the news in the kindest manner he could.

“That is why I am pleading with you, Go Ha-Jin,” he said, “Please. Help my son realize the gravity of his responsibility. I know that you are the only one who could do it.”

opened, but no words came out. She wanted to argue with Hwang Kwang-Soo, tell him that she cannot let go of her love AGAIN. She wished to refuse his humble request, to turn her back on him and just live with the love of her life, turn a deaf ear to the cries of the people under them. She wanted to just say no.

She remembered the tired face of that father and the longing gaze he held for his daughter.

“I...love your son,” she told him.

The President looked at her with such understanding. Of course he knew what she meant; Ha-Jin was sure that the Emperor’s present incarnate understood perfectly. She knew if the situation was alright, he wouldn’t be this insistent.

“I know you do,” he told her, “But you must understand the role he plays in all of this. Should things go further downhill, Jae-Yeong will receive the worst end of the stick as he is burdened by the burden of others. I know that you do not want that for him. I know you wish that he can live a life without that guilt.”

“I know you want what’s best for the greater good, Miss Go Ha-Jin.”

She wanted to say that she didn’t know what he was talking about. Looking at him, however, Ha-Jin knew Jae-Yeong’s father could see right through her.

Her ears could hear that little girl’s laughter – that little girl who was totally clueless to her father’s presence. At the back of her mind, she wondered if there were other little girls like her and disappointed fathers like him.

But she could also see Jae-Yeong’s face smiling at her. She could hear his boisterous laughter, his deep tone. She could feel his arms around her. Her eyes fell to the ring she wore – the one made after the hairpin Wang So gave Hae Soo (which was still in Jae-Yeong’s possessions). She remembered his promise.

Hwang Kwang-Soo did not use intimidation or fear to threaten her. His sincerity, however, threatened to shake her core.

He looked at her again.

“I know you know the right thing to do.”

--

She held back the tears when they threatened to fall.

So many questions invaded her mind, most of them targeted at the gods above. She knew it wasn’t right to curse at deities or the ones who ordained her fate, but at this moment, she wanted to blame someone – anyone – for this cruel reality.

What was the point of everything?

Her feet were already sore from walking all the way from the hospital, but she didn’t care. The physical pain distracted her from the emotional pain she felt. She would rather her feet bleed than her heart for the nth time.

Why are we even here again?

The thunder rumbled. It was about to rain. She wondered why the rain always came whenever something bad happened in her life. Was it a premonition?

Why?

There were other ways, she was sure, but why was nothing showing itself? Why was there no way out? If there was, why did it always mean an exchange? She wanted to point a finger at the deities for this pointless decision.

She tried as hard as she could, but the tears won. They flowed freely on her smooth cheek.

When the rain poured, so did her tears.

But she kept walking.

She had to do the right thing.

A/N: I’m already having separation anxiety from this fan fic and I’m not even done yet. Maybe the reality that it’s ending soon is the reason. I started writing SHR 2 last November and now it’s about to close. It’s a bittersweet feeling because I’ve become so fond of writing it, thinking about the next scene, and how I can give you the closure we all deserved from SHR.

Man, it’s an amazing feeling. Sad, but amazing.

It’s been an incredible journey with you guys. I started this looking for personal closure and towards the end, I gained new friends. I hope you can add me on your friend’s list. I can do it but there’s way too many of you. I wish to stay in touch with everyone after all of this.

The end is coming, don’t worry. Just give me three to five chapters and you’ll get that closure you deserve.

I promise.

P.S. if you’re a big fan of Goblin and Grim Reaper X Sunny, please check When The Sun Shines. Give my PiChi couple some love, will you? It’s where I’m focusing half of my energies. Thanks!