❛ ━ꜱᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ━ ❜ After their world went up in smoke following the heartbreaking loss of their child, Choi San and Jung Wooyoung's engagement shattered into pieces. Each day became a battle for survival in a sea of grief. Struggling to c...
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─•~❉ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ❉~•─
- ｔｗｏ ｗｅｅｋｓ ｌａｔｅｒ -
The passage of time had brought a tangible sense of happiness and stability to our lives. San had become an integral part of our daily routine, providing not just support but also a deep sense of companionship and love. His presence was a blessing, especially as I navigated the complexities of health issues that had lingered after Hwa-Young's birth. While I had often felt unwell in the past, my condition had improved significantly lately; the pain and fatigue that once overshadowed my days were now just occasional visitors.
With San's help, life felt more manageable. He spent a lot of time with our little girl, taking her along to his dance studio after nursery, which gave me the opportunity to run errands, attend doctor's appointments, or simply rest. His involvement allowed me to focus on my health without the constant worry about Hwa-Young's well-being during those hours.
Today was routine, yet essential—another day for a blood test to keep my health in check. I kept these appointments quiet, not wanting to burden San with what I considered routine checks. There seemed no need to cause unnecessary worry since these visits had become just another part of my schedule.
As I drove towards the hospital, navigating through the usual traffic, I reflected on how much easier life had become with San back in our lives. His reliable support with Hwa-Young, his unspoken understanding of my need for occasional solitude to deal with my health, and his constant, comforting presence had given me a peace of mind I hadn't felt in a long time.
Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I turned off the engine and sat for a moment, gathering my thoughts. The hospital visits had become less daunting over time, but they always prompted a moment of introspection about my health and the future. I checked my phone one last time before stepping out—no new messages, just the usual calm of an ordinary day.
Walking into the hospital, I was greeted by the familiar faces of the staff who had come to know me well over the past months. Their smiles were reassuring, a reminder that this place was not just a symbol of illness, but also of healing and care.
The tests themselves were quick, a routine that I had grown accustomed to. As I sat in the waiting room waiting for the nurse to call my name, I allowed myself a moment to think about how I would spend the rest of the day. Perhaps I would pick up Hwa-Young a little early and take her for ice cream, a small celebration of another day moving forward, another day of health and family.
As the nurse called my name, I stood up, squared my shoulders, and walked towards the lab. These moments, routine and unremarkable as they might seem, were the building blocks of a life being lived fully, not just for myself but for San and Hwa-Young too. Each step was a reminder of the resilience and love that defined our little family, a reminder that every challenge was surmountable with them by my side.
