Sun yanks the silky black fabric off his eyes and starts blinking, trying to adjust to the bright light outside the car. “Finally.”
The weather is lovely, and the drive was nice, but too long without him to talk to. I watch him as he looks around, scanning our surroundings, brows furrowed as he takes it all in. Then I see the recognition—the moment he realizes.
“Why are we here?” he asks, turning toward me, confused and maybe a little panicked.
Worried that I may have fucked up, I say, “We don’t have to go see your family if you don’t want to. You can show me around the place you lived as Yung-Sun before you came to Seoul. Take me to the spots where you used to hang out, we’ll have dinner somewhere, and go back home.”
His expression changes a bit as I talk, but he doesn’t respond, waiting for me to explain further.
“I know you haven’t been here, or seen your parents, in a long time. But if you want to, I’d like to introduce myself to them, so they know I’m serious about you.” I grab his hand, lace our fingers together, giving him a moment to think.
“They won’t like you,” he whispers, eyes cast down to our joined hands.
I shrug. “I’m not worried about that. Not unless it would change how you feel about me.”
Sun’s head snaps up and he looks horrified. “What? No. Never. Nothing will change that, especially not them. They can barely accept who I am; I don’t know if I can handle them having a problem with you or us being together.”
“I would hope that all any parent would want for their child is for them to be happy. If that’s not enough for them, that’s too bad.” I bring his hand to my lips, pressing kisses across his knuckles. “Let them see you happy. Show them that you have someone who is taking good care of you.”
“You do. You take the best care of me,” he insists, leaning onto my shoulder, wrapping himself around my arm. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. That’s why this felt important to me,” I say. “I know this was a surprise, but meeting the parents is something people who intend to stay together do, and you’ve met mine. They adore you. No matter what happens with your family, you have mine. If you decide now isn’t the right time forthis, that’s fine. I’ve never been here before, and I want to see where you grew up. I want to know every part of who you are.”
He blinks up at me, lower lip trembling as he tries not to get too emotional. “Thank you,” he says, softly. Inhaling a shaky breath, he seems to pull himself together. “Let’s go see them.”
???? ???
The Ahn family house is both everything and nothing like I expected. It feels a little out of place with the homes around it somehow—like it doesn’t quite belong in this neighborhood.
“This isn’t the house I lived in as a kid,” Sun says, peering out the passenger side window of the car. “It was farther away from the city and was in really bad shape, so when I signed my contract with TFE I started sending money back to my parents so they could either try to fix things or move. I think something happened with the landlord, so they moved to this one. I’ve actually only been to this house, like, three times. My sister and I don’t even have rooms here.”
My heart drops a little, hearing him talk this way about his family, but I know their relationship is strained. It makes me more grateful for my own parents, and not just because of their uncomplicated acceptance of Sun and encouragement of our relationship. I reach to rest my hand on his shoulder, rubbing in light, affectionate circles. “So, what do you think? Do we go knock and see what happens? Or do we go for a drive and find somewhere to get some food?”
His head lolls back against the seat and he closes his eyes. “I know I need to see them. It just feels easier to keep them at a distance on the phone. I send money, they say ‘thank you,’ and then we all just go our own ways.” Sitting up, he grabs the door handle. “Let’s go. I want my parents to meet you.”
I smile, getting out of the car to open his door, then give him a quick kiss on the forehead. “We leave whenever you wantto,” I promise.
I’m a little nervous as we walk to the door hand-in-hand. I’ve never met anyone’s parents before, and knowing they’re probably not going to react well makes it even more nerve-wracking.
Sun takes a deep breath and knocks twice. There’s a long silence, neither of us speaking as we wait to see if anyone will answer. Finally, the dark brown door opens just enough for someone to peek their head out.
An older woman appears, looking startled as she realizes who she’s looking at. She has the same sort of old-world beauty my mother possesses, but carries it in a different way—tired and a little less elegant. It’s immediately evident, though, who Sun got all of his features from.
“Hello, eomma,” Sun says in an entirely different tone of voice than I’ve ever heard him use. “Surprise.”
“Yung-Sun? This is certainly unexpected.” Her gaze travels from him over to me and her eyes narrow for a moment before she seems to slip into polite hostess mode and step aside. “Come in.”
I squeeze his hand and follow him inside, both of us stopping to toe off our shoes. A quick glimpse around doesn’t tell me much. The furniture is nondescript, and there’s hardly any decoration, which seems odd to me. My parents have pictures everywhere—of the family, of me, and even a couple with Jase in them. I know without a doubt that if I were famous, my parents would have wallpapered every available surface with articles and photographs of me and my accomplishments. I don’t see anything that suggests they have children, let alone a celebrity for a son. Everything about this place makes me want to turn my own apartment into a domestic paradise for Sun, to give him a home full of warmth and so much love it’s practically tangible.
He doesn’t look comfortable here, either, but I guess that makes sense for a place he’s never lived.
“Yeobo, come in here,” Sun’s mother calls, beckoning his father to join us. She looks at Sun and tells him, “Your grandmother isn’t feeling well. She’s sleeping.”
Sun nods, then turns to me. “This is my mother, Hyein, and my father, Bokyun.”
I bow to both of them as his dad moves to stand next to his mother, but I’m unsure of how to address them. I think it would be traditional to address them asmotherandfather, using formal language, but I get the feeling that would not go over well, even with honorifics.
“Were we supposed to know you were visiting, Yung-Sun?” Bokyun questions, sitting down on the low-profile couch.
