To the end

22

A conflicted return

The road stretched on for hours, the silence in the car heavy as Kim focused on the road. Vegas had fallen asleep against his shoulder, looking peaceful yet fragile. Kim couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. This was supposed to be a fresh start, but the more Kim thought about it, the more he realized how much had changed—and how much he had to fight for.

As they neared home, Kim noticed Vegas stir. The light from the setting sun cast long shadows on the road, and he gently shook Vegas awake.

"We’re here," Kim said softly.

Vegas blinked, his eyes momentarily unfocused, as if he wasn’t sure if this was real. "Home…" he whispered, but there was hesitation in his voice, a sense of unfamiliarity, like the word had lost its meaning after everything he’d been through.

Kim helped him out of the car, supporting him as they walked toward the front door. The sound of children’s voices floated through the air, distant at first but growing louder.

"Dada, Ken, stop! It tickles!"

The words hit Kim like a slap in the face. He froze, the anger bubbling up in him before he could even process it. Ken? Again? The kids had already started calling Ken "dad" again. It felt like a betrayal, a reminder of how quickly everything had changed while Vegas had been trapped in that hell.

His grip tightened on Vegas's arm, almost too tight, but Kim couldn’t help it. His chest tightened, his heart thudding painfully as the laughter from inside the house continued, those damn "Dada" calls ringing in his ears.

Vegas, still weak from the journey, paused beside Kim, sensing his discomfort. His eyes flickered toward the direction of the voices, and he hesitated. Something was off. The tension in the air was palpable.

"Kim," Vegas said, his voice soft, as if he was trying to process everything. "Who… who is Ken?"

Kim’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected Vegas to ask. But there was a deep sadness in his voice, a sense of betrayal that Kim didn’t know how to answer.

Vegas tilted his head slightly, still looking toward the sound of the children’s laughter. "Are you ...married to him?"

Kim swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. He could feel the weight of the question pressing on him. Vegas was confused—rightfully so. After everything Vegas had been through, being trapped, lost, and now coming back to this—Ken playing the father role, calling himself "dad"—it must have been like a slap in the face.

"No," Kim said quickly, his voice tight. "I’m not married to him."

Vegas looked up at Kim, still not fully understanding. "But they… they call him ‘Dad.’" He glanced toward the door, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you and him together?"

Kim’s heart twisted. How could he explain this? He wasn’t ready for this conversation, not when everything had been so complicated already.

"No," Kim repeated, his voice firmer this time, though the guilt gnawed at him. "Ken is… someone the kids have gotten close to. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s complicated, Vegas. I’m sorry you had to hear that."

Vegas looked at him, eyes searching Kim's face for any sign of the truth. " "So… Ken isn’t… my replacement?"

"No one could replace you," Kim replied, his voice low but steady. "You’re their father Vegas. Always will be."

Vegas didn’t move, didn’t respond. His fingers were clenched around the door handle, but his body remained rigid, as if the thought of stepping inside was a physical impossibility. His heart raced, pounding in his chest like a warning.