Second Chance [ON-going]

[1]The Start

[FLASHBACK — 7 YEARS AGO]

"How about this?" I pointed at the picture in the magazine we were reading, leaning closer so he could see it clearly.

"Aniyo~ that's too revealing," he said, squinting at the page while flipping through the other magazines scattered on the table. His eyebrows were almost touching as he analyzed each gown like a detective with a mission.

"Aigoo! My baby is really conservative," I teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks.

"Aish... stop it, Dara!!" he said, pulling back while trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"Hahahahaha... you look very cute!" I burst into laughter, unable to help it.

"Aish... stop that already. Let's just look for your gown to finalize everything." He grabbed one of the closed magazines, opened it, and handed it to me like a strict but caring stylist.

"Okay~," I said cheerfully as I flipped through the pages. Then something made my eyes widen.

"Omo!!! Omo!!!" I shouted, sitting up straight.

"Yah!!! What happened?" he asked, eyes widening in panic as he leaned toward me.

"This one..." I said, pointing at the page so close my finger almost touched the photo. "How about this one? I really like... no... I really love it!"

He leaned closer, looked carefully at the image, then slowly smiled.

"I think we are finished," he said with a bright, confident smile that could light the whole room.

I felt warmth in my chest as he gently closed the magazine, his expression softening as if he could already picture me wearing that gown.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

[PRESENT]

"Dara!!!" someone shouted. I turned and saw him walking quickly toward me. I smiled—the most genuine smile I could offer despite everything swirling inside me.

"Omo!! Where did you go? I was looking for you everywhere!!" he said, slightly breathless. He placed his hands on his hips like an annoyed parent, but the worry in his eyes betrayed him.

I just smiled at him, trying to pretend everything was normal.

"Ya!! Why are you so serious? It's not like I'm running away or committing suicide," I said jokingly, lifting my brows.

He shot me a deadly glare—sharp enough that I felt it in my spine.

"Okay, fine. I won't joke like that again," I muttered, raising my hands slightly in surrender before grabbing my bag.

"Let's go. We have a flight, and I don't want to be late. The taxi is waiting for us," he said, already walking ahead a few steps.

"Pss... okay," I said softly, following him.

We walked toward the taxi. Before stepping inside, I paused. Something tugged at me like invisible hands pulling from behind.

I turned around and looked at our old house.

The house where I used to play as a child.
The house where I grew up.
The house that became a silent witness to every joy, every heartbreak, every secret I kept.

Now it stood there quietly, as if it knew I was leaving it for the last time.

Memories flooded—running in the backyard, hiding behind the old mango tree, the smell of mom's cooking, the sound of laughter echoing in the hallway. It was all still there, trapped inside the walls I was about to abandon.

"YA! What are you doing? Come on, we will be late!!" he shouted from inside the taxi, leaning out the window.

"Ne~," I said, though my voice felt weak.

I took one last... last... last look.

"Goodbye..." I whispered, barely audible even to myself.

I finally stepped into the taxi, closing the door gently, as if afraid the sound might break the fragile moment.

Leaving our old house was hard for me—harder than I wanted to admit.
But I should do it...
I had to do it.
And maybe, someday, I could return without the weight of the memories tied to it.