If I Could Dance With You Again

IICDWYA: 62

Chapter 62

A few weeks after Soonyoung finally accepted the truth—that the kids were indeed his—he brought them back to the hospital for their annual check-up. This time, Myungho came along, his quiet presence a steadying hand for Soonyoung.

"Hello, kids," Dr. Zhang greeted warmly, her smile lighting up the room as the children entered.

"Hello, doc," Soonyoung replied, balancing Leon and Leo in his arms. He nodded toward his companion. "You've met Myungho before. He's with me today."

"Ni hao!" Dr. Zhang greeted cheerfully, her eyes crinkling with recognition.

"Ni hao, Doc pretty," Faline piped up from Myungho's arms, her voice clear and mischievous. The sudden greeting startled everyone, but it quickly melted into laughter.

"Aw, you're such a smart baby," Myungho said, tickling her lightly. Faline smirked, her little chin tilted upward as though she knew exactly how clever she was.

The nurses soon led the children away for their screening, leaving Soonyoung and Myungho waiting in front of Dr. Zhang's desk.

"Maybe she got that attitude from her mama," Myungho teased, his tone light but probing.

Soonyoung's smile faltered, turning into something more guarded. He didn't answer, and the silence hung heavy between them.

Dr. Zhang flipped through the children's old records, her brows lifting. "They're growing up fast," she remarked.

"I know, doc," Soonyoung sighed. "It's getting out of hand. They're more mature every day. Sometimes I feel like they're no longer kids."

"You mean they're curious?" Dr. Zhang asked.

Soonyoung nodded.

"That's normal," she explained gently. "There will be endless whys. They'll want to do things on their own, test boundaries, interact more. What matters is that you help them regulate their emotions, guide them to understand themselves."

Soonyoung leaned forward, listening intently.

"I told you, hyung," Myungho added. "Like Jaden said—it's normal for them to become independent nowadays."

Soonyoung blinked at the sudden name change.

"I mean Dr. Jaden Zhang," Myungho corrected quickly, scratching his neck.

Dr. Zhang chuckled. "Myungho's right. They'll need your guidance more than ever. And please, you can call me Jaden, or Pearl, or Jaden Pearl. You're friends, and nearly all your friends' kids are my patients. No need for formality."

The atmosphere softened, and Myungho relaxed, more comfortable calling her by name.

But then his words cut deeper. "That's why you should think about finding their mom, hyung. Or at least... someone who can help you raise them. No offense—you're doing great. But it might be easier if you had someone beside you."

The comment was innocent, but it struck Soonyoung like a blade. His chest tightened. He didn't want the kids to grow up asking endlessly about their mother, forcing him to repeat the same lie—that she was overseas, working hard. The truth was harsher: he didn't know where she was. He didn't even know who she was.

"I want them to meet their mom," Soonyoung admitted quietly. "But I don't know who she is. It was... a one-night stand. Club Red. I was drunk. Broken." His voice trembled as the memory clawed back into his mind.

Myungho frowned. "Hyung, we know Ruby. Why didn't we ask her before?" He paused, realization dawning. "Oh... right. You cheated on her friends. If they found out, they'd kill you."

The room fell into uneasy silence.

Dr. Zhang, who had been listening carefully, finally spoke. "I think the kids are mixed blood. Look at them closely—they're not purely Korean."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Both men turned toward her, suddenly more alert, their curiosity ignited. The mystery of the children's mother, once buried under guilt and silence, now pressed forward with new urgency.

The words lingered in the air like smoke. Mixed blood.

Soonyoung's chest tightened. He glanced at the children through the glass window of the screening room. Their laughter echoed faintly, but now he saw them differently—saw the subtle features that didn't quite match his own.

"What do you mean, Doc?" Myungho asked, leaning forward. His tone was cautious, but curiosity burned in his eyes.

Dr. Zhang folded her hands on the desk. "Their complexion, their bone structure... even their eyes. These are not purely Korean traits. I've seen enough children to notice patterns. It's possible their mother isn't Korean."

Soonyoung swallowed hard. The revelation twisted something inside him. He had always avoided thinking too deeply about that night at Club Red, burying it under guilt and responsibility. But now, the mystery of the children's mother was no longer something he could ignore.

"Hyung," Myungho said softly, "this means we might have a way to find her. If she's not Korean, maybe someone remembers her. Club Red wasn't exactly a quiet place."

Soonyoung shook his head. "It's been years. People forget. And even if they remember... what if she doesn't want them? What if she regrets it?"

Dr. Zhang's voice was firm but kind. "You owe it to the kids to try. They deserve to know where they come from. Even if the answer is painful, it's better than silence."

Silence stretched between them. Soonyoung's mind replayed fragments of that night—flashes of neon lights, the haze of alcohol, a girl's laughter he couldn't quite place. He remembered her perfume, sharp and sweet, but her face blurred like a dream.

Myungho broke the silence. "We can start with Ruby. She knows the club scene better than anyone. Even if she's angry, she might have answers."

Soonyoung grimaced. The thought of facing Ruby, of reopening old wounds, made his stomach churn. But Myungho was right. The children's future mattered more than his pride.

Dr. Zhang stood, closing the folder of medical records. "Whatever you decide, do it soon. The kids are growing fast. Their questions will only get harder to answer."

Soonyoung nodded, his jaw tight. He looked once more at Leon, Leo, and Faline, their small hands clutching toys as the nurses guided them back. Innocent, trusting, unaware of the storm brewing around their identity.

He whispered to himself, almost like a vow: I'll find her. For them.