When Jongin rounds the orthopaedic ward after lunch, he’s met with a crowd surrounding the patient in room 212. She had a hip replacement yesterday and what looks like her entire family has come to bring her home. Mrs. Kim is a sweet, grandmotherly woman whose enthusiasm and gratitude shines out of her like a light. When he enters her room, her face brightens more than ever.

“Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim,” she calls, beckoning him closer. Jongin smiles at her and obediently comes closer to her bed.

“This is my daughter.” She pulls at the sleeve of a woman standing by the bed. When her daughter has politely bowed to him and he’s greeted her back, she releases her sleeve and starts gesturing to the other people around her.

“This is my son-in-law, my grandson, and my granddaughter, Eunjung.” A glint comes into her eye when she introduces her granddaughter, and Jongin immediately senses where this is going. His immediate instinct is to find some excuse to make a hasty retreat, but he can’t really do that, so he just stands there smiling and trying not to look as awkward as he feels.

“She’s 27, she’s a florist, and she’s single!” Mrs. Kim winks broadly at him.

“Grandma!” her granddaughter cries, high-pitched with embarrassment. Mrs. Kim just laughs and winks at Jongin once again. He tries to think of something to say that isn’t going to offend anyone or betray his own embarrassment, but Eunjung gets in first. She apologizes profusely on her grandmother’s behalf and Jongin assures her it’s fine, relieved that he doesn’t have to explain that he’s already dating. He likes to be friendly with his patients and accepting of all their quirks, but this particular topic is difficult ofr him. His relationship with Sohee is his secret so far, and when he does eventually find the courage to open up about it, the first person to know definitely won't be a patient.

He changes the subject. “How are you today, Mrs. Kim?”

“Oh, just wonderful! The physiotherapist was here earlier and we walked around. I did well, didn’t I?” she asks her husband who’s sitting in the chair beside her bed.

“That’s great. How’s your pain?” Jongin asks as he moves her blanket enough to look at the wound site. The bandage isn’t bloody and nothing is seeping from the wound. The yellow disinfectant from the surgery is slowly wearing off. It all looks just how he'd expect.

“Nothing to worry about, dear. I’m fighting fit!” Jongin laughs a little. That’s probably not completely true, but he appreciates her positivity. She's bound to feel pain for at least the first week after surgery, though it will lessen the more she uses the hip. Jongin will prescribe some stronger painkillers for the first couple of days at home.

“I looked at your postoperative X-rays earlier and everything looks fine, so I’d like to discharge you and get you home today. Does that sound good?”

Mrs. Kim takes his hand and pats it lovingly.

“Oh, dearie, I would love to go home. But don’t take that to mean I haven’t enjoyed being here! Everybody has been so kind and you’re a wonderful doctor. I would trust you with my life.”

She's making Jongin nervous. It’s not that patients are never grateful, but Mrs. Kim is on another level, and he’s not used to being shown this kind of overflowing affection. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, smiling in an attempt to cover his shyness. Luckily, Mrs. Kim lets go of his hand on her own before he has to try and figure out how to pull away without being rude. She looks around at her daughter. “Where are the chocolates for Dr. Kim?”

Jongin starts to protest, but it falls on deaf ears. She holds out a large gift box of chocolates and a pretty little bouquet of pale orange and purple miniature roses.

“Eunjung arranged these,” she tells him shamelessly. “Isn’t she talented?”

“Grandma, stop it!” Eunjung hides her face in mortification.

“They’re lovely, but really, Mrs. Kim, I can’t take these,” Jongin tries. Mrs. Kim is having none of it, though, and she pushes the chocolate box and the bouquet against his hands until he’s forced to take them if he doesn’t want them to all end up on the floor. He holds them uncertainly, trying to calculate how much the chocolates and flowers might be worth. He doesn’t want to get in trouble with the management. It’s against the law for professionals to accept gifts worth more than 30,000 won, and the hospital enforces this strictly. It’s always difficult for Jongin to refuse gifts which come from a patient’s heart, and it’s so hard to explain to older patients who have grown up with the gifting culture and simply don’t understand the new law.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Kim tells him. “The nurses got their chocolates, and you will have yours too!”

She reaches for her purse, takes out her wallet, and looks up at him with a gleam in her eye. Jongin takes a horrified step back, chocolate and flowers still in hand.

“Mrs. Kim, I really can’t take money,” he says hurriedly. “I’ll accept the chocolates and flowers, but I cannot take money from you.”

She just laughs at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes. It dawns on Jongin that she has just tricked him into accepting the chocolates and flowers, and he has to laugh. Damn, she’s good. Mrs. Kim settles back against her pillows and gives a satisfied smile. Her husband takes her hand and pats it gently.

“Thank you for making me as good as new, dearie,” she says. “When can I leave?”

Jongin tries to collect his thoughts. He feels overwhelmed by the whole interaction. “I’ll have the nurse help you pack up and finish the discharging process, and you can leave straight afterwards.”

He leaves the room when he’s sure Mrs. Kim and her family have no more questions. A nurse giggles at his dazed expression from the nursing station. She’s eating a piece of chocolate from an even larger box hidden behind the desk.

“Someone’s got an admirer,” she sings.

“I thought I did, but it looks like she’s also quite fond of you lot. I don’t know if I can handle the competition,” Jongin teases back. He’s glad Mrs. Kim showed her appreciation to the nurses too. Without the nurses, he and the other physicians couldn’t do half the work they’re doing.

The nurse pops her last bit of chocolate into and leans back in her chair.

“I don’t know about that. You got flowers, we didn’t.”

Jongin puts a finger thoughtfully on his chin. “Hmm, I guess you’re right. I am her favourite.”

The nurse’s laugh follows him down the hallway to his office. When he gets there, he finds a mug and fills it with water from the hall cooler, then balances the small bouquet of flowers in it and admires the sunset colours in the tiny roses. It’s much too pretty for him to keep to himself. An idea drifts into his mind that puts a gentle smile on his face.

When his shift is over, Jongin changes out of the semi-professional attire he wears beneath his doctor’s coat and into dark jeans and a white collared shirt. It’s ten minutes past seven and already dark outside. The street lights cast an orange glow onto the roads as he walks the few minutes to the backstreet where he parked his car.

It’s become almost routine lately for Jongin to head to Sohee’s apartment after his long shifts, instead of his own. He loves to be with her, to cuddle into her warmth, to feel loved. He’s barely even in his own apartment anymore; hers seems warmer somehow, warmer in ways that have nothing to do with the temperature. Maybe it’s the multi-coloured crocheted blanket she worked on for months on her couch, or the framed pictures of her big, loving family on the walls. Maybe it is simply her presence that makes everything so much better. He’s there so often that she’s started teasing that he might as well just move in with her. He senses that behind the teasing she's up for a more serious discussion about it, but he still laughs it off every time. Moving in together means acknowledging their relationship is serious, and that's something his mind jerks back from like a hand touching a hot stove.

Tonight though, instead of heading to Sohee’s apartment, he drives downtown. He’s about ten minutes late by the time he gets to the restaurant where he’s to meet Dr. Lee Taeyeon. Taeyeon is a world-renowned orthopaedic surgeon in her sixties who was his chief of department during his first year of residency, which he did at another hospital. She’s both his personal hero and his inspiration.

The heat surrounds him as he enters the five-star restaurant and finds Taeyeon sitting near a large window, slender fingers holding the stem of a wine glass. Her white hair is pulled into an elegant bun and silver-framed glasses sit low on her nose. She’s completely immersed in the menu and doesn’t look up until Jongin folds his trenchcoat over the back of his chair and sits down.

“Jongin,” she exclaims, smiling up at him. “How delightful of you to show up.” She’s teasing him and he knows it.

He sits down and holds out the little bouquet Mrs. Kim gave him earlier. The flowers have weathered the day spent in his coffee mug well, and he's pleased to see her eyes light up. She brings the bouquet close to her face and breathes in the scent.

“This is sweet of you,” she tells him, laying them down on the table. “They’re lovely. It’s been a long time since I was given flowers.”

Jongin smiles shyly. The joy he gets from giving the flowers to her far outweighs what he got in receiving them.

“You started without me, I see.” He nods at her wine glass, and she chuckles.

“Of course I did, you’re ten minutes late!”

Jongin just smiles. As usual, her presence is calming. They order their food and he gets a glass of wine as well. Taeyeon is no longer working as a surgeon and has moved into part-time research, but she tells him she has no intentions of fully retiring or else she'd go mad with boredom. After their food arrives she leans forward, just a few inches closer, but Jongin immediately senses the change in intensity.

“How are you, Jongin?” The question sounds innocent enough, but it’s loaded with the weight of a heavy past. Jongin shrinks a little in his chair. He always does when she asks about his well-being so directly. He has never found it easy to put his thoughts and feelings into words, even though he knows she understands. Ever since she confronted him about the bruises and the burns, she has been perceptive of his mood. She accepted him without judgement when he was at his lowest, and she accepts him with open arms when he’s at his best.

“I’m fine,” he says. Taeyeon raises an eyebrow and Jongin continues before she can ask him to elaborate. “I have something I want to tell you." He squirms a little in his chair. "It’s good news.”

Taeyeon’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“Who is she?”

Jongin feels his eyes go wide. He has been practicing this conversation with Taeyeon in his head since he realized he really loved Sohee, debating with himself over and over again about how to tell her and whether it’s really okay to discuss his worries with her, and it turns out he doesn’t even need to say a word.

“Her name is Jeong Sohee,” he says and bites his lower lip, heart fluttering a little when he says her name out loud. “She’s 30 and works as a zookeeper. We’ve been together close to five months now.”

Shyness creeps up on him, colouring his cheekbones pink as he tells Taeyeon all about Sohee. By the time he's finished, he feels like he's reduced to a five-year-old telling his mom about his kindergarten crush. Taeyeon just smiles warmly and reaches out to pat his hand.

“She sounds wonderful. What about you, though? How do you feel about this?”

“I'm..." Jongin looks away. "I'm scared."

He's been hiding his fear pretty well, even from himself most of the time, taking each day as it comes and enjoying the present. But telling Taeyeon that he has a girlfriend forces him to acknowledge to himself that this is real. He's in love with Sohee, and it could all come crashing down around him and destroy him again. Old emotions shiver in his chest, and memories creep out of the boxes in the corners of his mind he locks them in, taunting.

Taeyeon softly his hand and watches his face, and the contact slowly brings him back, forces him to stay grounded.

When he’s looking at her with eyes that are actually seeing her and not echoes of the past, she asks him, “What’s scaring you?”

Jongin lowers his gaze, watching her fingers still his hand. “I’m scared she’ll turn, like - like that person did, I think. She was so sweet at first, and I was so sure she loved me, and - ” he breaks off, breathes, continues. “I know it’s not logical. I know most women aren’t like her. I mean, you aren’t.”

He looks up again to meet her eyes, and she smiles kindly at him.

“Do you love Sohee?”

Jongin nods. He does. The butterflies in his stomach, the smile on his face, the overwhelming feeling of love when she’s around - Jongin loves Sohee very much.

“Have you talked to her about what happened?” Taeyeon lets go of his hand and takes a sip of her wine. Now that they’re talking, she no longer needs to ground him by touch.

Jongin shakes his head. “I don’t want her to know. I'm scared she'll think I'm weak. Pathetic. I don't want her to see me that way.”

Taeyeon’s gaze hardens. It’s not directed at Jongin. Every time he tells about his fears, she turns tough and protective against the world that didn’t take him seriously when he needed it.

“Jongin, do you still have scars?”

He nods.

“What did you tell her they were from?”

“I don’t think she’s noticed them.”

Taeyeon looks skeptical.

“Surely you’ve had . She must have seen them,” she says without a hint of embarrassment. Jongin chokes and buries his flaming face in his napkin.

“Mo-om,” he whines, and then realizes what he’s just said. “Uh, I mean...” he stumbles, feeling his face flush even more. Taeyeon just chuckles.

“Trust me, she has seen the scars, whether she’s decided to mention them or not. Tell her. If you want to move forward, you'll need to trust her.”

Jongin takes a deep breath and tries to will the blush away. He can’t worry about telling Sohee when he’s too busy being mortified. She knows he considers her a second mother, but he’s never called her "mom" to her face. As usual, though, Taeyeon takes everything in her stride.

“Jongin, promise me you’ll tell Sohee about it before too long.” He nods, still too flustered to use actual words. “And drink your wine, son. It’s getting late.”

The mischief has returned to her voice. She’s deliberately calling him son to rectify his mistake, telling him that it's okay, that he doesn't have to be embarrassed.

When Jongin has hugged her goodbye and sent her off in a taxi, he wanders slowly back to his car. Once there, he sits behind the wheel and stares out at the street. He replays the conversation with Taeyeon, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the cold steering wheel as he counts his breaths and tries not to let anxiety take over. There’s so much to say and it’s so difficult to say it, and he’s terrified he'll destroy the good thing he has. But Taeyeon is right. At some point he will have to tell Sohee. He will have to take the step of trusting again, and deal with the