To the end

11

New Beginnings?

After  the therapy session, Ken made his way to the children's room, hearing their giggles and chatter. As soon as he entered, Venice and Leiah rushed to him with wide smiles, excited to show him their drawings from school.

Ken knelt down, giving them his full attention, listening as they explained the colorful scenes they had created. As they talked, they laughed, and Ken couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth and joy in their presence.

"Ken, you’re just like our papa," Venice said suddenly, her eyes full of innocence.

Ken blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean, Venice?"

Leiah chimed in, “You take care of us like Papa Kim did. You’re always here, playing with us, helping us with our homework… and you love us too, right?”

Ken felt a lump in his throat as he nodded, unsure of how to respond. “Of course, I care about you both. But... I’m not your papa.”

Venice hesitated for a moment before asking, “Can we call you Dad, Ken?”

Ken's eyes widened in shock. “Dad?” His voice faltered. “Why would you want to call me that?”

Leiah, with her innocent gaze, said, “You’re like Papa. You love us, and we love you. Papa Kim doesn’t mind, right?”

Ken smiled softly, his heart warming at their words. The thought of being a father figure to these kids was something he hadn’t expected, but it filled him with a sense of pride and affection.

"I like it," he said gently, stroking their hair. "But... Kim? What if he doesn’t feel the same?"

Venice tilted her head, confused. "But you’re both always together. You make him smile, Ken. Don’t you want to be with him too?"

Ken sighed, torn between his own feelings and the reality of the situation. "It’s not that simple. Kim... he’s been through a lot. I’m not sure he’s ready for something like this. He still... he still loves Vegas."

Leiah frowned. "But we want you to be happy, too. And we like you being around. You’re good for Papa Kim."

Ken’s smile faltered, his mind racing. He loved being with them, and the idea of building a life together was tempting. But Kim’s heart was still tangled with the past, still attached to Vegas, and Ken didn’t want to push too far, too soon.

Kim sat on the edge of his bed, the letter in his hands trembling as his fingertips traced the Braille over and over again. His heart raced, pounding so loud it felt like it would break through his chest. He couldn’t believe what he was holding, couldn’t believe what his fingers had just deciphered.

"Love never dies a natural death. It burns. It’s fire."

His breath hitched. He read the words again, this time slower, his mind spinning, trying to process the impossible truth. This was Vegas—there was no doubt. Only Vegas would say something like this. But how? How could Vegas be alive when everyone believed he was dead? For long years, Kim had lived in the dark, mourning, aching, carrying the unbearable weight of Vegas’s absence.

Tears filled his eyes as joy, confusion, and disbelief swirled together. Was it really him? Could it be true? His vision blurred, but his fingers stayed steady, moving across the Braille, needing to confirm over and over again that this wasn’t just a cruel dream.

“Vegas...” Kim’s voice cracked, his tears spilling freely now. He pressed the letter to his chest, as if holding it close would somehow bridge the impossible distance between them.

The confusion hit him next—how was this possible? How had Vegas been alive all this time, hidden away from him? And why hadn’t he come back? A wave of anger surged briefly before being washed away by overwhelming relief. The fact that Vegas had survived was more than enough to push aside any resentment. He was alive.

His tears came harder, flowing uncontrollably as the flood of emotions crashed into him. He was happy—more than happy. His heart ached with joy, and yet the confusion and fear gnawed at the edges of that happiness. Why had Vegas sent this letter now? Why like this?

The room felt too small, too quiet, the weight of the letter too heavy in his hands. He leaned back against the bedpost, his body shaking as he clung to the one thing that tied him to Vegas after all this time. The thought of Vegas out there somewhere, possibly suffering, made his chest tighten. What had happened to him? Why was he still hiding?

He glanced at the door, the urge to run to Ken or anyone for support pulling at him, but he stopped. They wouldn’t understand. No one would. They already thought he was broken, fragile from everything he had been through. If he told them about this letter, about the words written in Braille, they’d think he was losing his mind, clinging to a ghost, to a hope that wasn’t real.

Kim wiped his tears with the back of his hand, trying to steady his breathing. But the emotions wouldn’t let up. He was drowning in his own heartache and joy, his body shaking with the overwhelming truth that Vegas was alive. He held the letter closer, his lips brushing the paper as if he could somehow feel Vegas through it.

“I miss you,” he whispered into the quiet room, his voice trembling. “I miss you so much. Where are you?”

The silence answered him, deepening the void in his heart.

He stood up suddenly, walking to the window, staring out at the night sky, the stars twinkling above like they held the answers he so desperately needed. His tears fell harder as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his voice barely audible.

“Vegas... why didn’t you come back to me?”

The tears didn’t stop. He cried for the lost years, for the pain of not knowing, for the confusion of the letter in his hands. But mostly, he cried because his heart still beat for Vegas, because no one—not Ken, not anyone—could ever take his place.

He was still alive, and that was all that mattered. But the question burned in Kim’s mind as he wiped his eyes again, staring out at the stars. How much longer would they be apart? And how much longer could he bear the wait?