Boundless

제 12 장

      
The scent of cinnamon and caramel curled through the air like a warm embrace, wrapping around my senses as soon as I stepped into Ms. Park's sanctuary—a quaint little bakery nestled on a quiet corner, brimming with soul. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow, where soft jazz drifted from overhead speakers, and every corner was kissed by golden light.

Creamy beige walls were laced with rich brown accents, from the wooden countertops to the carefully curated decor—earth-toned vases filled with dried lavender and handwritten chalkboard menus lined with whimsical calligraphy. There was a sacred warmth in the atmosphere, a gentle hush that fell over the world outside as if the bakery itself stood suspended in its own kind of magic.

"Jae," Ms. Park called with a smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes, "I made almond dark chocolate bars for you—just how you like them."

She glanced at me and sent a playful wink my way. I blushed and tucked my curls behind my ear.

"Really?" Jae's eyes lit up like a child who'd just found his favorite toy beneath the Christmas tree.

She reached over the marble counter and placed four plastic-wrapped bars in his hands, each one adorned with a delicate satin ribbon.

"Thank you, mama," he said, kissing her cheek with such tenderness it made something in my chest ache.

"Since he was a boy, he's loved those chocolates. Used to sneak them into his room and hide under the covers with sticky fingers and a guilty smile. His father hated it—but I gave them to him anyway." Her eyes twinkled as she looked at her son, her voice bathed in nostalgia.

I could almost see it—little Jae, his mouth smudged with chocolate, giggling beneath the blankets, the warm glow of youth flickering in the dark like fireflies.

"Jae will be twenty-seven this year," she added casually.

I blinked. "Twenty-seven?" My voice lifted with surprise.

"Yes, how old are you?" she asked, eyes flitting between us.

"Twenty-four," I replied, and her expression didn't falter.

Jae nudged me with a mock frown. "Why'd you say it like I'm ancient?"

"Because you kind of are," I teased, earning a soft chuckle from him.

She sighed wistfully. "He enlisted when he was twenty-four, and now he's finishing university. I'd love to have a daughter-in-law before he turns thirty."

I paused. My heart thudded. He had served? He'd never told me.

"Take a seat," she said with a gentle wave, vanishing into the back, "I want you to try my best sellers."

Jae led me to a cozy window seat that overlooked the street. Sunlight spilled across the table, warming our joined hands.

"Your mom's amazing," I told him.

"She is," he said softly, eyes glimmering. "She has a gift—for reading people. I get that from her."

Moments later, Ms. Park returned with a silver tray brimming with delicacies—matcha tarts, strawberry mochi, honey breads dusted with powdered sugar.

"When Jae Eun was in high school and this bakery was just starting, he worked here part-time," she began, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I had so many customers. Girls would swarm this place like bees to a hive, just to order something and stare at him."

Jae choked on his chocolate, coughing violently. I covered my mouth in laughter.

"Letters, love notes, phone numbers—my son was a heartbreaker," she continued unabashed. "Still is, actually. Ever since he returned from enlistment, he's turned every woman down. So when he brought you up... I was thrilled. I thought my boy would die a virgin!"

"Mom!" Jae groaned, burying his face in his hands.

I couldn't stop the giggles spilling from my lips.

"What? Did I say something wrong? You two have slept together, haven't you?"

"Mother, please!" Jae gasped, mortified.

Ms. Park and I laughed so hard our sides ached.

"We have sex, okay?" Jae blurted. "All the time. We had sex this morning!"

I choked on absolutely nothing. Ms. Park smacked the back of his neck. "Where are your manners, boy?"

"I'm sorry, mother," he muttered, bowing to her and to me.

"Excuse him," she said, rolling her eyes. "He can be so inappropriate. Athena, would you mind coming with me? I have something I'd like to share—with you alone."

          •.     •.     •.

She led me through a narrow hallway and into a small room at the back of the bakery. The light overhead buzzed to life, casting a soft glow over the space. There was a mannequin in the corner, draped in a fabric cover, and I sensed something deeply personal lingered beneath.

"When Jae Eun was little, I hoped he'd grow up to be kind. Not successful, not perfect—just kind. And he is. He's private in ways you may not know yet, but his heart is always open to those he loves."

I smiled, thinking of the quiet ways he'd held me, the softness in his gaze when he looked at me as though the whole world could burn and he wouldn't blink—so long as I stood by him.

"Jae Eun is a beautiful man, born from something not so beautiful. His father and I... we didn't last. But Jae was my salvation. He deserves love that sees him—not just for what he gives, but for who he is."

She stepped forward and removed the blanket.

The hanbok beneath stole my breath.

Soft pink silk with pale green accents. The threads glimmered in the light, embroidered with gold and silver at the waist, as though stars had been stitched into it. I stepped closer, brushing my fingers against the delicate fabric. It smelled like lavender and something older—like memory.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

"It's yours," she said gently. "It belonged to my mother. I've kept it for someone I believed would love my son as deeply as he deserves. And now... I want you to have it."

My throat tightened. I pressed the hanbok to my cheek, blinking back tears.

"Ms. Park, I... thank you."

She smiled and squeezed my hands. "When I first saw you, I saw confidence. Grace. Fire. You remind me of women who carry entire legacies on their shoulders without ever being bowed by the weight. I want you to know—skin color, background, history... none of that can dim what you bring to this family. You are more than enough."

Her words struck something deep in me. In that small, fragrant room, with the hanbok between us and love like air around us, I made a silent vow.

I would never shrink. I would never dull my light to fit into a world that refused to see its brilliance. The melanin that painted my skin was not a mark of burden—but of beauty, resilience, and strength. Anyone who failed to see that... didn't deserve to see me at all.

With my head held high and the future stretched before me, I smiled through the warmth swelling in my chest.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt utterly... boundless.

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