・❥・ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜꜱʜ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. Happily married and eagerly awaiting San's return from his mandatory military service, Wooyoung busies himself building their home and nurturing their dreams. Just as everything seems to be going perfectly, unexpec...
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»--ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴀɴ --«
The weight of the secret I had just learned pressed down on me as I navigated the familiar streets to our home. The revelation about Joon, alive and shielded by his own father—a man whose actions now revealed a disturbing lack of moral compass—stirred a turmoil inside me. Wooyoung had suffered so much already; the truth threatened to unravel the peace he had fought hard to build around himself and our family.
As I parked the car, my hands were steady on the surface of the steering wheel, but inside, my heart raced with apprehension. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I prepared myself for the hardest conversation I would likely ever have with Wooyoung. I knew this could shatter the fragile tranquility of our life, but he deserved the truth, no matter how painful.
I stepped out of the car, locking it behind me with a habitual click of the button, my movements automatic as my mind wrestled with the words I would use. Walking through the gates, I secured them, a symbolic gesture more than anything—it felt like I was trying to lock away the dangers of the world outside.
Stepping into our home, the familiar comfort of the place we shared offered a slight balm to my frayed nerves. I found Wooyoung stepping out of Han's nursery, his movements gentle and quiet as to not disturb our son's sleep. The soft expression on his face as he closed the door behind him spoke of the love and care he had for our child, a stark contrast to the storm I was about to unleash.
"Wooyoung," I started, my voice catching slightly as he turned towards me. His smile, warm and welcoming, faltered at the sight of my serious demeanor.
"San, what's wrong?" he asked, immediately sensing the tension I carried. His eyes, always so perceptive, searched my face for clues.
I motioned for us to sit in the living room, where we could talk privately. As we sat down, I took his hands in mine, needing the connection to steady myself. "I have something very important to tell you, and it's not easy," I said, pausing to gather my courage. "It's about Joon."
Wooyoung's body tensed at the mention of the name, a shadow passing over his features. "Joon?" he echoed, confusion lacing his tone. "What about him? I thought..."
"He's alive, Wooyoung," I interrupted gently, holding his gaze. "He didn't die. His father hid him, helped him recover. I just found out myself, and..."
The color drained from Wooyoung's face as the implications of my words sank in. The shock, the betrayal by someone he had considered a guardian, was evident in his widening eyes. "Alive?" His voice was a whisper, a mix of fear, anger, and disbelief.
"Yes," I confirmed, squeezing his hands, wishing I could shield him from this truth. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this. I know how much you've been through because of him."
Wooyoung pulled his hands away, standing abruptly, his breathing quickened. "I need a moment," he said, his voice breaking as he turned away from me, heading towards the window to gather his thoughts.
