If I had to summarize my youth in a single word, it would be: disaster. Not just a simple bump in the road, no, a real shipwreck, orchestrated by my own recklessness. I was a high roller, hungry for thrills, and my life bore the scars. Even today, I tell myself that if I could go back, I would flee that cursed evening when, pushed by my two friends, as stupid as they were impressionable, I agreed to a stupid, absurd, senseless bet. Hold on tight: it was about donating my sperm at a bank. Yes, you heard that right. A trivial gesture, I thought then, a joke in poor taste. But today, that decision haunts me. My mind constantly wanders: what became of that donation? Who used it? A woman wanting a child? A man? It doesn't really matter, deep down. The result, for me, is an open wound: somewhere, there might be one or more children carrying my DNA, and I will never know them. I will never be a father to them, just an anonymous donor, a genetic ghost.
Despite apparent success — I'm the CEO of my own company — every day exhausts me. Power, money, prestige… it all rings hollow when evening falls and I return to a huge, silent, empty apartment. A luxury that feels like a prison. At thirty, I'm the family's shameful bachelor, the one who "can't even father a bastard," as my dear parents delight in reminding me. I'm a hopeless case, a living paradox: surrounded, but alone; accomplished, but empty.
That evening, I was in my car, heading to my 5 p.m. appointment — an appointment with myself, an unhealthy habit. My smartphone vibrated. Jimin's voice, friendly and cheerful, echoed in the car. "A guys' night out?" I refused; fatigue clung to my skin like a second skin. After hanging up, I parked in front of the small local kindergarten. My "appointment" was this: watching, from a distance, the parents picking up their children. Seeing the laughter, the hugs, the little hands clutching the fingers of the adults. A bittersweet spectacle that cruelly reminded me of everything missing from my life. I was leaning against my car, heavy-hearted, a spectator to a happiness that would never be mine.
I was lost in this bitterness when a woman in her sixties suddenly appeared in my field of vision. She was walking towards me, a radiant smile on her lips, and in her arms… three small children. My breath stopped. Something about them struck me. A vague resemblance? No, it was more than that. The same eyes, the same shape of the face… an obviousness that hit me with the force of a punch. My blood ran cold. I straightened up with a start, ready to flee, to take refuge in my car.
But her voice pinned me to the spot, soft yet firm.
"You came to see them, so why are you leaving without even taking them in your arms?"
The world tilted. She leaned towards the children and murmured, as if it were obvious:
"Go on, give daddy a hug."
Daddy.
The word resonated in me like a death knell. Before my reason could protest, my body reacted. Two of the little ones snuggled against my legs, and instinctively, I held them close. An unknown warmth, violent and sweet, flooded my chest. It was dizzying. Terrifying. And yet… I already loved them.
"I've been hearing about you from Jung-Su for so long, finally I meet you," the lady continued, her gaze sparkling with tenderness.
jung-Su ? Who was she talking about? My brain was spinning, unable to keep up. A small pressure on my pants snapped me out of my stupor: the third child, still on the ground, was raising his arms towards me. His pleading face pierced me. I crouched down, pulled all three of them against me in an awkward but instinctive embrace. In that jumble of warm little bodies and muffled laughter, I felt something break inside me. And rebuild itself. For the first time in years, I felt whole.
It was then that the lady uttered the most surreal sentence of all, with a knowing smile:
"So, when are you finally going to marry Jung-Su ?"
The shock chilled me to the bone. Marry… who?
"Uh… I'm sorry, I think there's a mistake," I stammered, completely lost.
But she shook her head, filled with disarming compassion.
"Don't worry. It's not easy coming back after all these years. But Jung-Su, you know… he will always forgive you. He's always waited for you."
I stood silent, my arms full of children who felt like mine, facing this woman who spoke of a stranger as if he were a great love. It was absurd. Crazy. Completely incoherent.
And yet, in this chaos, I didn't want to let go of these little ones.
What was happening to me?