Yesterday, Suho and I agreed to meet here at my house at 9am. At exactly 9:15, he texted me, saying that he needs to go somewhere important and postponed our appointment for another hour. Here I am, already dressed up and ready to roll, I decided to just continue and prolong my very abrupt breakfast earlier. At least he contacted me after fifteen minutes of being late.

The location of dad’s prison is approximately a three hour travel from Seoul, which is a little over 100km away from here. Suho decided to bring his car, an advantage for me, for now. Last night I made him promise to not leave me alone there, if ever he gets on a bad mood after he meets my dad.

The last time I saw my father, was when I was still twelve years old. Back then I was still free from the problems that I’m experiencing right now. My family was still far from perfect before, but at least I only saw the whole picture, and not the story behind it. Before, he was a good dad to me, he may not be a good husband to my mom, but he made sure that I got to feel his love, even while he was away. My childhood dream was to have a complete family, to have both of my parents living inside one house with me, their little angel. And because it was a childhood dream, it was bound to change by the time I grew up.

Sooner or later, when I found out about my father’s true personality, I’ve grown to hate him. Why couldn’t he just be contented of what he had, and had to fall in love with another woman instead? Why did he have to hurt my mom for that and end up scarring the both of us for the consequences he made? And why do we have to live on and still be reminded of his mistakes?

All of these wouldn’t have been necessary if my father wasn’t the kidnapper and murderer named Park Jaeyeol. If he had just stayed true to his goal, if he had left with his woman lived off without us, maybe I could forgive him. Why did he suddenly transform into a monster within a day?

I heard a honk of a car just outside the café. Suho’s here at last. Suddenly I felt nervous. In less than four hours I get to finally meet my dad again.

The doorbell rang and Suho entered. He looked directly to the counter and saw Joowon who was in charge of the cash register today. Mom is inside the kitchen cooking. I got up from my table brfore he could turn to me and welcomed him by the door.

“Sorry for being late Jaehee ya,” he sounded relieved, but exhausted.

“At least you told me in advance,” I went to the counter to call for my mom, “Mom, Suho’s here. We’ll get going now.”

Joowon was busy putting snacks into a paperbag. After he was finished with it he gave it to me, “You’ll pay for that okay?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to pack these for me.”

“Jaehee ya,” mom went out of the kitchen looking exhausted as well. Funny, the café is not that busy yet, “You will tell me every single thing that will happen okay? Answer my phone calls and reply back to my messages.”

I hugged my mom before leaving, “Don’t worry mom, I’ll be fine.” I guess.

“I’ll take good care of Jaehee Miss Seo,” Suho greeted my mom.

“I know… I know you will Suho ya,“ Mom went closer to Suho to hug him as well. I had a feeling that this may be the last time she’ll do that. I hope I’m wrong.

I nearly forgot that Suho was a son of a rich man. If I hadn’t seen this convertible that he’s driving right now, he would just be the normal photographer Lee Suho to me. Sometimes I forget that five years has passed since we left high school. So much has changed after all those years. He became a talented photographer, a profession that I don’t imagine him doing if he didn’t forget his memories. But here I am, a preschool teacher. I wonder how my kids are doing. I haven’t seen them for a while, especially Mister Kang.

“I haven’t seen you do your work nowadays Suho ya,” I muttered as he was about to turn for the rest stop along the highway, “Do you still work in the studio of yours?”

“Look who’s talking…” he parked the car, and turned the engine off, “Don’t worry I have a huge upcoming project that is due next month.”

“What’s it about?” I asked as he opened the car door. He turned around and volunteered to open mine, “Will I be able to see it before the show?”

“Secret. It’s a surprise,” he took my hand and led me to one of the food stalls that sells spicy rice cake, “I’m starved. What do you want to eat?”

“I just ate, before leaving,” he waited for my reply, then he ordered two servings of the spicy rice cakes, “You arrived late and you didn’t even eat breakfast?”

His expression changed for a second, but then he returned to his usual self, “I told you, I had to go somewhere.”

He ate, and ate, until there was nothing left in his plate(s). Judging from his appetite t