Flames of Desire

CHAPTER 2 : THE REUNION

GANG NAM SOON'S POV:

"Nam Soona," hearing my name from the same voice I had been hearing in my recurring dreams made me shudder at first. I was frozen where I stood, unable to move but simultaneously wanting to break open the door to meet her.
My mother, my omma, the one whom I dreamed of hugging every single day of my life, was standing in front of me.

She opened the door and embraced me in her arms. No introduction and no clarifications were required. Some bonds cannot be explained but only felt. I held her, and the tears that were filling my eyes started pouring down.

"I will never let you out of my sight again," she said as I tightened my embrace around her. She took me to our home, and I met my grandmother there, too. I started discussing everything about my life after getting lost, how my Mongolian parents raised me, and how I became a doctor.

They were proud of me, and I was proud of my mother for achieving so much in life even though she held so much pain in her heart. My grandma said, "Our souls were never separated, and we were always connected." We had lunch together after my director gave me a half day. My mother dropped me off at the hospital, and I worked the rest of the day with peace in my heart.

The following week was loaded with love, warmth, laughter, and shifting my luggage to my home now. I told my Mongolian parents everything and their happiness was above the roof. I could not meet my brother and dad because they were out of town and were returning on Monday.

I enjoyed the week after work, shopping, and exploring Korea with my mother. I was overjoyed and was finally at peace, but like they say, all happiness does not last long. Mine also did not last too long.

On Monday evening, as I was about to meet my dad and brother, I got a call from the hospital. The call made me panic as to what might be the urgency.

"It's an emergency. Come fast." I hurried over as soon as I could.

My heart sank as I rushed to the hospital, the joy of the past week fading with each step. When I arrived, I saw that the girl treated on Saturday for some minor abdominal pain was dead.

I felt devastated and urged her orphanage to file for an autopsy report. They declined and took her body to be cremated. They did not even bother about what killed the little girl. I am not the kind of person who can show her tears to people comfortably, so I waited till I was at my office alone to cry for what felt like an eternity.

The grave disadvantage of working in the medical field is that the pain you are treating might not be yours, but you feel it anyway. Not right away, but over time, you get filled up to the brim with these feelings, which we must let out from time to time.

Today was that day. I did not go home that night and met them the next day. I worked the night shift as I could not meet them in this state, even though every cell in my body was screaming to do so.

The next day after my shift ended, I rushed back home to meet my dad and brother.

"Nam Soon, Appa is sorry for losing you back then. I am extremely sorry, my child. I hope you can forgive me someday," he said as he hugged me.

I pulled back from the hug momentarily to wipe his tears as he wiped mine and said, "Appa, I am sorry for wandering around and then getting lost. I never meant to do so. I cannot forgive you, Appa, because I never held any resentment towards you in the first place."

I met my brother, and we spent a lot of time catching up with each other's lives.

My mother organized a grand party in the afternoon, which we enjoyed by eating and dancing beyond our heart's content. I got my family back, and now I knew nothing stood between my family and me, but maybe I spoke too early.