Where is he? What could possibly be so important thathe’s unreachable during a medical emergency? After everything he said about prioritizing me and the baby and being more present?
Now when somethingactuallyhappens, he’s nowhere to be found?
Is he in danger? Is he in trouble himself?
I’m so worried and confused that it almost hurts. It hurts to think about the fact that I’ve faced this situation without Jin when he swore he would be by my side.
By the time we reach the apartment, I’m exhausted in a way that goes beyond the physical. Sang-cheol escorts us up, confirming with the other security guard stationed outside our door that we’re safe.
I manage a weak thank you before shuffling inside.
Mom immediately kicks into caretaker mode, ushering me to the couch and piling blankets around me like she’s building a nest. She disappears into the kitchen, and soon the apartment fills with the sounds and smells of her cooking—the clang of pots and scents of garlic and butter.
The kind of comfort food she’d make me when I was sick as a child.
I should be grateful. Iamgrateful.
But the gratitude is interspersed between layers of fear and frustration and deep weariness.
I check my phone again to find no response from Jin.
Where are you? This isn’t like you.
Mom returns with a bowl of soup and a stern look that calls for no argument.
“Eat,” she commands, pressing the spoon into my hand. “Dr. Gong said you need to keep your blood sugar stable. That means food.”
I take a few obedient bites, more to appease her than out of any real hunger. The soup is delicious. It’s rich and savory,with chunks of vegetables and tender meat. Yet it feels like a chore to get through when Jin is AWOL.
“He’ll call back,” Mom coos softly. She strokes my curls. “Whatever’s going on, I’m sure there’s an explanation. Jin loves you, baby. He wouldn’t just disappear without a good reason.”
I desperately want to believe that’s the case.
There’s some situation or crisis that pulled him away. Some explanation that would undo what seems to be another broken promise.
But it’s getting harder and harder to hold onto that faith.
I set the soup aside and curl up against the cushions, pulling the blankets tight around me. Mom dims the lights and settles into the armchair nearby, her presence a quiet comfort even as my thoughts spiral.
The minutes crawl by, an hour feeling a lot more like two.
I’m starting to doze off, the exhaustion finally winning out over the anxiety, when my phone rings.
I jerk back awake, fumbling for it with a heart thudding faster from hope.
“Hello?” I answer before even checking the Caller ID. “Jin? What’s?—”
“Monroe,” Dr. Gong interjects, her tone more serious than usual. “It’s Dr. Gong. I’m glad I caught you. Are you resting at home?”
“I was trying to. Is everything okay?”
She pauses for an extra beat, then answers, “Monroe, I have some news on the additional panel we ran. We found an abnormality in your bloodwork. Something unidentified and that we don’t yet recognize. It’s not typical, and given your symptoms today, I’m concerned.”
I go still, so shocked I struggle to even understand what she’s said.
“What… what does that mean?” I murmur.
“It means I need you to come back to the hospital tonight. We need to run more tests so we can figure out what this is and whether it’s affecting you or the baby.” She pauses again as if she recognizes how troubling her update is. “Can you do that, Monroe? Can you come back now?”
