CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

 

 

 

The meeting with Bom was quick, and the girl did not even give Jiyong a single clue of where could Dara be. All she did when he made it at their meeting place was hand him a phone and a set of keys. 

 

“Whenever you feel like going to her apartment, you have the keys. Right now, she’s not there but I am sure she left something that will serve as a clue of her whereabouts. Good luck, Ji,” she said before patting him on his shoulder and started walking away. 

 

Now making his way to the parking area of the restaurant, he stares down at the phone in his hand while wearing a frown on his forehead. She only told him that he can browse through it as it only has certain applications he’ll need, but did not further elaborate what for. 

 

He steps inside his car and pulls out his own phone from his pocket. He browses through his messages to Dara, yet she hasn’t opened and read any of them. A sigh escapes his lips. 

 

“Where are you?” He mumbled. 

 

Unlocking the phone from Bom, a twitter profile welcomes his sight.  

 

Park Sandara 🔒  

@littlebutterfly 

 

It is a newly created private account with only few tweets. The first tweet was created not long ago captioned as “An unexpected blessing” with a painting of a mother cradling a child in her arms. 

 

Jiyong finds himself tracing the painting on the screen with his finger, scrolling it down until the responses of Dara’s girl friends come to sight. 

 

 

Park Bom @designerpark 6d 

replying to @littlebutterfly 

Now drafting designs for aunt Bom’s little angel! 💕 

 

Gong Minji @minjimimi 6d 

replying to @littlebutterfly 

I am collecting accessories for our little angel to use, soon. I am so excited 🤧 

 

Lee Chaerin @CLcherry 6d 

replying to @littlebutterfly 

Pre-ordering collections for my godchild. Something uni maybe? 🤔 

 

 

 

“Godchild? Little angel?” He uttered. “Dara is pregnant?” 

 

At the thought, his heart starts to pound hard inside his chest. Flashback of events from the morning he woke at Dara’s apartment, lying next to her, crosses his mind. 

 

“Could it be… My baby?”  

 

Emotions flood inside his system as he starts the car and drives off to her apartment, hoping to see her there. Or maybe find something that can point him to where she is. One thing is for sure— He needs to find her. 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~oOo~~~~~ 

 

 

 

 

 

Jiyong is having an internal battle with himself as his gaze rests on Dara’s. The trip to her apartment thankfully lead him to her. Now standing in front of her,  heaven knows all he wants to do is pull her in his arms and embrace her as tight as he can. 

 

He probably looks awful right now— Unshaved stubbles, barely styled hair, un-ironed clothes, disheveled appearance— not the ideal first impression to give her family. But that was the least of his concern when he left her building that morning. 

 

He spent the night at her place. There he found the coat he left the morning after the night they shared, along with a scrapbook which has the words  “My little butterfly” on its title page. He browsed through the few pages with written entries on them, counting the timeline of her pregnancy in his mind while doing so. 

 

Tears already blurred his vision when pieces of papers fell on the floor. Few words were written there— Few words that were enough to snatch the breath away from him. 

 

 

“Will you choose me and stay with me?” 

 

“Hi, Jiyong. If you find out about the life we made, will you accept it? Will you see it as a blessing like I do?” 

 

“Hi, little butterfly. Am I selfish? I wanted your father to stay, but it will cost him his happiness. I don’t want that. I love him, but someone else is already in his heart and she’s still there. And that someone is not me.” 

 

 

He sat at her bed with clenched fist, head hung low, and held the scrapbook against his chest. Tears kept falling from his eyes until around dawn, he found himself waking up from hours of sleep. 

 

The message from Bom telling him about where Dara is, was the first thing he saw that morning. He drove there for almost five hours, and another two hours to search for her place and convince her brother that he’s her friend. 

 

“You are—?” 

 

Jiyong pulls away his gaze from Dara and turns to the older woman standing next to her. He blinks before offering her a polite smile and extending a hand toward her direction. 

 

“Hi, ma’am. My name is Kwon Jiyong, Dara’s friend,” he introduced as he threw a quick glance toward the girl’s direction. 

 

“Ohhh. My daughter’s friend, I see,” she said and nodded her head, letting his hand go. “The friend, friend?” She asked , turning to her daughter. 

 

He just smiles at this, not knowing whether he should answer the question or not.  

 

“Mom,” Dara uttered. 

 

“What? I just want to know since you never bring over guy friends before,” she reasoned before facing him again. “Or guys in general. By the way, I’m Kim Kyung-ran. Nice to finally see a new face here. I’ll leave you two, alone. Seems like you need some privacy,” she said and walked toward her son. “I’ll see you later, Jiyong. Have fun!” 

 

Even before Sanghyun, Dara’s brother, can say a word, Kyung-ran is already dragging him away from them. Now left with the girl he has been looking forward to see for days, silence fills the air. 

 

He has so much to say but has no idea where to begin. 

 

“Ji—“ 

 

“Da—“ 

 

They both begun at the same time. Chuckling, they shake their heads and points at one another, telling each other to continue talking.  

 

Thinking that this will take endless, he initiates the conversation. 

 

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again,” he started and looked down as he take a step forward. “I’ve been thinking about the thing you wanted to tell me,” he said and moved another step closer. “There are a lot of things I want to say,” he’s now standing in front of her. “But first,” he raised his head and met her gaze, “I want to feel your warmth,” he continued and gently pulled her in his arms. 

 

“Jiyong.” 

 

“I’ve been dying to do this eversince I left your place that night,” he whispered. 

 

He felt her lean against his chest as her hands fisted the front of his shirt. He tighten his embrace around her, wanting to assure himself that she’s really there and not just a pigment of his imagination. 

 

“You’re here,” she mumbled. 

 

Slightly pulling away, he looks down at her and she meets his eyes. He smiles and roams his gaze around her face. He then lifts a hand off her figure and gently tucks the strands of hair behind her ear. 

 

“Yes, I am. Bom helped me.” 

 

“Traitor,” Dara whispered and let out a soft laugh. “I told her not to tell you.” 

 

Jiyong laughs and cradles her cheek. “She did not just tell. She gave me a phone and the keys to your apartment.” 

 

At the mention of her place, her eyes slowly grows wide and she blinks in disbelief. She tries to pull away from his hold but he tightens his arm around her frame. 

 

“You did not use the keys, right?” 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

 

“No, you shouldn’t be there while I am not around. That’s trespassing.” 

 

“I know. Are you going to sue me for that?”  

 

His serious gaze meets her worried ones. She averts her eyes and looks at anywhere but him. 

 

“Dara, look at me.” 

 

She looks down and shakes her head. “No.” 

 

“Please?” 

 

“Ji, I don’t know what you probably saw there but—“ 

 

“I want to stay,” he cut her words off. Frowning, she finally looks up and meets his eyes. Her gaze is questioning, staring at him like his words are foolish and he shouldn’t be saying them. He chuckles at the sight. “I don’t know why I should choose when in the first place, there are no other options, anyway. There is only you, and that’s what matters most.” 

 

“But—“ 

 

“I love you,” he declared, staring directly on her eyes.  

 

Dara blinks a couple of times and her lips slowly parts as his words sink in her mind. “No.” 

 

He laughs at her initial reaction. “What?” 

 

“No, you don’t. You love Taeyeon, right?” 

 

“Silly. My feelings for her were all part of the past.” 

 

“But you were just crying over her not