After his discharge from the military he was welcomed back and settled back into his normal life and routine just as before but one night for Do Hwan that quickly changed. What happens when he is attacked and a few weeks later discovers he is a carr...
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The final chapter ~
The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the quiet apartment. Do Hwan stirred awake, his body instinctively attuned to the rhythmic beeping of the feeding pump beside the bed. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and turned to where his daughter lay, her small frame curled up under a pastel-colored blanket.
Sarang. His little miracle.
He reached over gently, brushing a few strands of dark hair away from her peaceful face. At three years old, she was still so small for her age, her delicate features a mix of his own and something entirely unique to her. The nasogastric (NG) tube taped to her cheek was a familiar sight now, an integral part of their lives, yet it never diminished her beauty in his eyes.
Her name had been chosen so deliberately—Sarang, meaning "love." Because that was what she was. A love so profound, so life-altering, that it had redefined his very existence.
A small whimper broke his thoughts, and he immediately turned to her. Sarang's tiny fingers twitched before she let out a sleepy sigh, her lips parting as she tried to form words that often eluded her.
"Appa..."
It was barely a whisper, but it was there.
Do Hwan felt his heart tighten. Speech had always been difficult for Sarang. Development delays made it a challenge, and though she worked so hard with her therapists, the words never came easily. But that never stopped her from trying.
"Ne, Sarang-ah. Appa is right here," he said softly, reaching for her hand.
Her fingers curled around his, warm and trusting. Slowly, her lashes fluttered open, revealing those bright, expressive eyes.
~
A short time later Do Hwan sat on the living room floor, his long legs stretched out as he watched his daughter, Sarang, nestled between his arms. Her dark eyes, so much like his own, sparkled as she traced her tiny fingers over the pages of a picture book.
"Appa," she murmured, her voice slightly slurred but filled with effort.
"Ne, Sarang-ah?" he responded warmly, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
She pointed at a bright yellow star on the page, her little hand shaking with the movement. "Ttar..."
"Byeol," he corrected gently, guiding her hand to touch the illustration.
"Bye... byul?" she tried again, her brows furrowing in concentration.
His heart ached at the sight—pride, love, and a deep yearning to ease her struggles all wrapped into one. "Ne, our Sarang is so smart," he praised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her face lit up with a big, joyful smile, the same one that had changed his world the moment she was born.
He hadn't always imagined this life for himself. A few years ago, he was fresh out of the military, ready to throw himself back into the fast-paced world of acting. But then, the impossible happened—he found out he was pregnant. A rare, almost unheard-of condition. At first, he thought it was a mistake. But as the months passed, reality settled in. He was carrying a child. His child.
The moment he held Sarang in his arms for the first time, nothing else mattered. The fear, the uncertainty, the sacrifices—everything melted away the second she looked up at him with those innocent, trusting eyes. He still remembered the doctor's gentle words when she explained Sarang's diagnosis.
It was terrifying at first. Would he be enough? Could he give her everything she needed? His life had always been about his career, his future. But Sarang... she taught him to surrender. To embrace every unpredictable, messy, beautiful part of life.
There were difficult days—hospital visits, physio therapy sessions, sleepless nights filled with worry. There were moments when he felt completely alone. But then there were the good days. The days where Sarang's laughter echoed through their tiny apartment, where she discovered something new and her entire face lit up with delight.
She had changed him. Before, he measured his own success. Now, success was the way Sarang's fingers wrapped around his when she was scared, the sleepy weight of her head against his chest, the tiny victories that others might overlook—her first steps, her first word.
"Ahh," Sarang whined suddenly, reaching up towards the tube that went into her nose.
"Aniyo, Sarang-ah," Do Hwan cooed softly, carefully adjusting the NG tube. "It stays, okay? Appa knows it's uncomfortable, but we have to keep your tummy happy."
She pouted, but eventually nodded, her small hands wrapping around his wrist instead. "Appa..."
"Ne?"
"Salanghaeyo."
His chest tightened, emotion thick in his throat. "Appa loves you more, my Sarang."
There was something magical about watching her experience life. The way she clapped her hands when she heard music, the way she giggled uncontrollably when he made funny faces, the way she studied the world with endless curiosity. She had given him a second chance at life—a chance to live more meaningfully, to embrace every moment, to love without fear.
As he looked down at his sleeping daughter, he wondered if she would follow in his footsteps one day. Would she find joy in acting? Or would she discover a passion of her own? Whatever path she chose, he knew he would support her, just as she had unknowingly supported him.
"No matter what happens, Sarang-ah, you will always have me," he whispered. "Always."
With that promise lingering in the air, Do Hwan held his daughter close, embracing the journey ahead—wherever it might take them.
