“Then… then what is it?”
He’s taken a couple more steps, now so close I can reach out and touch him. Still holding my gaze, he makes a confession that’s clearly been on his mind for weeks.
“The only real fear I have in this lifetime is losing you, Tokki-ya. Nothing else compares.”
“Jin…” I whisper, my thoughts scrambled. “But… how….”
“These past four weeks,” he continues, “I’ve focused on healing my body. I’ve gone to physical therapy to recover from my wounds. But that was not all the healing I have done. I’ve done work to heal my heart and mind too. Grief therapy to help me process what happened to us. Butalsowhat happened to me when I was a child.”
My eyes widen. “You’ve been going to therapy?”
“I’ve been learning how to mourn… the right way,” he admits. “Without the rage and violence and shoving down the other emotions.”
The air in my lungs catches. I’m surprised by his revelation. Therapy was always a hard pass from Jin no matter how many times I asked and even begged.
To know he’s sought it out himself, and has been attending since we’ve been apart, makes me realize he’s serious. He’s really trying to better himself and conquer his demons.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he confesses. “All the time. All day and night, Tokki-ya. Wanting to be better for you.”
“But… you had your chance,” I say, blinking and looking away from him. “I was right there, crying, reaching out, and you let me walk away without a word.”
“I know.”
“So why should I believe anything’s different? Why should I trust you won’t shut down again the next time things get hard?”
Frustration flashes across his face—not at me, but at himself—and his hand flies up to his chest, tugging at something under his shirt. A chain emerges, and hanging from it...
My engagement ring.
I stare at it in surprise to see it so suddenly.
“I’ve worn it every moment since you gave it back,” he says quietly. “It’s never left my body. Not once. Not even in the hospital. I always wanted… I always hoped to…”
…give it back to you.
He trails off but I can sense the words on his tongue.
I stare at the ring, and the ache I’ve felt in my heart from the moment we broke up deepens. It reminds me how I’ve never even pretended to fall out of love with him. Even as I’ve moved halfway across the world, I’ve forced myself to put him in the past all while the feelings were still very much there.
The feelings never went anywhere; they refused to die even when our relationship had.
But as bad as I want to believe him, I’ve been down this road before.
I’ve seen him shut down and retreat behind his walls, and I don’t know if I can survive it happening again.
Jin must see the conflict on my face because more desperation flashes in his dark eyes.
“Tokki-ya,” he says. “I stood outside your window those nights because I needed you. I couldn’t be without you.”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, fumbling slightly as he slides out a photograph and hands it over.
It’s the ultrasound of our son.
I take it, my throat tightening at the sight of the familiar grainy image—the curve of his head and the tiny feet I used to trace with my finger—then I realize the paper is warped and wrinkled.
Not creased from being folded in a wallet but rippled like it got wet and dried again.
Almost as if it were wet from…tears?
