One day in Seoul 🇰🇷

🇰🇷: 40

The morning light streamed gently through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. I blinked awake, feeling the comfort of the bed beneath me and the presence of warmth beside me. Slowly, I turned my head to the side, finding Katarina already awake, her eyes fixed on me with a soft smile that sent a wave of calm through my chest. And there, nestled between us, was Sarang, her little chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

I still couldn't believe it-this tiny, beautiful girl between us was our daughter. The product of a night I never thought would change my life forever. One night in Seoul, and here we were, waking up as a family. Sarang was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen, her tiny face so serene and angelic as she slept. I couldn't help but stare at her in awe, feeling both amazed and humbled that I had a hand in creating something so perfect.

"Ang tahimik mo," Katarina chuckled softly beside me, her voice gentle so as not to wake Sarang. "Ano bang iniisip mo?"

I tore my eyes away from Sarang to look at Katarina, catching the light humor in her eyes. She looked so beautiful, her hair slightly tousled from sleep, and I felt a pang of gratitude so deep that it left me speechless. "Hindi pa rin nag sisink-in sa akin," I admitted, still in awe. "Parang panaginip lang... I can't believe I made her. Ang ganda niya, sobra."

Katarina laughed softly, shaking her head. "Francis, parang ikaw lang naghirap ah," she teased, her smile playful. But then her expression softened, and she reached over, lightly tracing a finger across Sarang's cheek. "Pero totoo. She's amazing, 'no? Parang minsan hindi mo talaga maaalis isipin na she's ours."

I nodded, swallowing hard as I continued to watch Sarang sleep. She had my eyes, but Katarina's gentle features-her smile, her nose, the softness that I had always admired in her mother. I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. It was as if I was seeing the best parts of Katarina and me combined into one tiny human being.

"Paano ba nangyari 'to," I mumbled, my voice filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I mean... alam ko paano nangyari but... Sarang? It still feels unreal."

Katarina's laughter bubbled up again, light and carefree. "Well, kahit isang gabi lang 'yun, alam natin na Sarang was made out of love, Francis. Hindi lang basta nangyari." She paused, her gaze softening. "That's why I named her Sarang. Kasi 'Sarang' means love in Korean. Alam ko deep down na even if it was just that one night, it was filled with love."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, pulling at something deep inside me. We'd always known it wasn't just a random mistake; it was something more, something meaningful that had led us here. A night of reckless passion, but also a night of love-pure and untainted. I could feel a lump forming in my throat, the reality of everything settling in.

"Love," I whispered, repeating her words as I brushed a strand of hair away from Sarang's face. "Perfect name for her. Ang hirap paniwalaan minsan... pero nandito siya. And I wouldn't change it for anything."

Suddenly, Sarang stirred between us, her tiny body wriggling slightly as she woke up. Slowly, her little eyes fluttered open, blinking against the morning light. For a moment, she just lay there, her gaze shifting between Katarina and me. Then she smiled-small, sleepy, but so bright it felt like the sun itself had settled in our bed.

I felt my heart stop when she turned those innocent eyes toward me and smiled. That tiny, beautiful smile that melted every fear, every doubt I had ever harbored. "Daddy," she said in her sweet, tiny voice, still laced with sleep but so sure. "Good morning po."

My breath hitched. I couldn't believe it-she called me Daddy. Me, of all people. The weight of that word, coming from her lips, struck me so deeply that I thought I might fall apart. Katarina must have told her yesterday when I wasn't around, explaining everything, because Sarang seemed to understand it all, accepting it without question.