The apartment door closed behind me with a dull thud, like a period at the end of this nightmare of a day. I was finally home after that surreal encounter with… with him. The progenitor of my children. That thought, just that thought, made my head spin. I didn't even know his name. Tae, that's all I had retained. Tae something. I should have asked him, but at the moment, I was too busy accusing him of wanting to steal my money.
Idiot.
I shook my head, trying to chase away that inner voice. No. It was better this way. Better that everything stay as it was. That he disappear from our lives as suddenly as he had appeared. The kids would eventually forget him. He was just a stranger, after all. A donor. Nothing more.
I started climbing the stairs with heavy steps, the weight of the day crushing my shoulders, when suddenly… a tiny little hand grabbed my pants, right at knee level. The pressure was light, almost nothing, but it stopped me dead as if someone had plunged a dagger into my back.
I turned around, and my heart shattered.
They were there, all three of them, lined up like sad little soldiers at the foot of the stairs. Hyun-su, my youngest, had teary eyes, his minuscule fingers still clutching my jeans. Ji-ho, the middle one, was biting his lower lip while looking at me with his big eyes – his big eyes, that guy's eyes, once again. And Minjun, the eldest, my serious little man, had his arms crossed, sporting a pout that spoke volumes about his disappointment.
Because of all this chaos, this meeting, this stupid argument… I had almost forgotten they were there, them. My reasons for living. My three suns. And they were extinguishing before my eyes because of me.
"Mom…" Minjun's voice was so small, so fragile, like I hadn't heard it in years. "Daddy… is he angry?"
The word pierced me. Daddy. To them, that stranger was already daddy. In one afternoon, in a few hugs, he had earned a place I thought was reserved for me alone. Jealousy, acidic and burning, rose in my throat, immediately replaced by overwhelming guilt.
I crouched down in front of them, gathering them in my arms as best I could, their warm little bodies pressed against mine. "Why do you say that, sweetheart?"
"Because he left without hugging us," Ji-ho whispered, his voice trembling. "He didn't even say goodbye."
"And he didn't smile," added Hyun-su, his big dark eyes planted in mine with devastating innocence.
I closed my eyes for a second, just long enough to swallow the lump blocking my throat. "Oh, my babies…" My voice broke despite myself. "Daddy, he… he was just in a hurry, that's all. He had a super important meeting, you know, like when Mommy has to work late. But he'll come back tomorrow, I promise you. He'll come pick you up from school, and he'll hold you very tight in his arms, okay?"
Three little faces looked up at me, desperately seeking certainty in my eyes. Minjun nodded slowly, as if weighing the value of my promise. The other two eventually imitated him, but their gazes remained veiled with that sadness I had created myself.
I held them tighter, burying my face in their hair so they wouldn't see the tears I was holding back. It was my fault. All of this was my fault. My lies, my distrust, my impossible personality… and now, my children were paying the price for my mistakes.
.................................
The next day, at exactly 4:30 PM, I was in front of the school gate, my heart pounding wildly. The kids had been so excited that I'd had to dress them in a rush this morning, their incessant questions about "daddy" punctuating every minute of our preparation. "Is he coming? He promised? Are you sure, Mommy?"
I had said yes, again and again, silently praying that this guy – Tae, that bastard – would have the decency to show up.
The bell rang. The door opened. And a tidal wave of joyful children flooded the courtyard.
I saw them immediately. Minjun in the lead, like an expedition leader, almost dragging his brothers by the hand. They ran and ran, their little backpacks bouncing on their backs, their faces lit up with excitement, eyes fixed on the gate, on the spot where he was supposed to be.
They rushed across the courtyard at full speed, narrowly avoiding a little girl and her father, dodging a teacher who was yelling at them to slow down. Their eyes were searching for only one thing: him.
And then they reached the gate.
And they stopped.
Dead stop.
Empty.
Minjun turned his head right, then left, his little body taut as a bowstring. Ji-ho stood on tiptoe, trying to see over the arriving parents. Hyun-su, for his part, simply looked up at me, and I saw the tears rise before they even fell.
"Mommy…" His voice was just a thread, a tiny, heartbreaking whimper. "Daddy… he's not here."
The ground gave way beneath my feet.
I looked around, desperately searching for a silhouette, a car, anything. Nothing. No one. He hadn't come.
Hyun-su burst into sobs, burying his face in my leg. Ji-ho sniffled loudly, his lips trembling. Minjun, my big one, clenched his fists, his jaws so tight I could see the muscles in his cheeks bulge. He wasn't crying, him. He was too proud, too strong. But his eyes… his eyes screamed a betrayal I understood all too well.
Oh my God. What had I done? I had promised. I had lied. I had let my children believe in someone who wasn't reliable, who might just be an opportunist as I had accused him, and now they were paying the price for my mistake.
The ride home was a silent ordeal. Hyun-su sniffled in his car seat, Ji-ho stared out the window absently, and Minjun… Minjun stared at his shoes, refusing to meet my gaze in the rearview mirror. Guilt was eating me alive from the inside, more fiercely than anything I had ever felt.
At home, the weight of sadness filled every room. I sat with them in the living room, taking out all the toys, all the tricks, desperately trying to bring a smile back to their faces. Nothing worked. Their gazes remained dull, their smiles forced. They were there, with me, but their hearts were still in front of that gate, waiting for someone who hadn't come.
That's when my mother walked in, her kitchen apron still tied around her waist, no doubt alerted by the unusual silence that reigned in the house.
"My little angels… What's going on? Why such funeral faces?"
I tried to smile, but it must have looked like a grimace. "They're sad, Mom. Because… because he didn't come."
Her gaze softened, but a glimmer of understanding shone in it. "By 'he,' do you mean… their father?"
I nodded, speechless.
"He told me you two were angry with each other," she murmured, sitting next to Hyun-su to stroke his hair.
I jumped. "What? He told you that? When?"
"Last night. He called me to ask how they were doing. He seemed… sad, Jungkook. Not angry. Sad."
My heart skipped a beat. He had called? He had been worried? Then why…
I shook my head, chasing away that weakness. "It's lies, Mom. We're not angry at all, it's just that he… he has a lot of work right now, that's all."
My mother gave me a look I knew all too well – the one that said "my son, you lie badly" – but she didn't add anything. She turned to the boys, hands outstretched.
"Boys… who wants to make a magnificent drawing for daddy? A drawing so beautiful he'll come running right away to get it?"
Three little heads popped up like springs. "Me! Me! ME!"
"Come on, come on, artists!" she exclaimed, leading them towards the coffee table covered with colored pencils.
I watched them settle in, their energy magically returned, their little tongues out with concentration. And it was there, in that soft late-afternoon light, that the obvious truth hit me square in the face.
Minjun furrowing his brows while drawing, his head tilted exactly the same way as…
Ji-ho biting his pencil while thinking, like…
Hyun-su sticking out his tongue while coloring, with that intense concentration that…
My God. They were him. Not just a vague resemblance, not just a few common features. They were his spitting image, his replica in miniature. This guy – Tae – he lived in each of their gestures, each of their expressions, each of their mannerisms.
"What am I even saying…" I murmured, running a trembling hand over my face. I was now calling him "their father" in my head. This was nonsense. When had my life derailed so much? When had these three children, who had needed only me for six years, attached themselves so quickly, so strongly, so viscerally to a perfect stranger?
I didn't know. I didn't know anything anymore.
But one thing was certain: in a few days, in a few hugs, in a few stolen glances, this man had cracked the fortress I had built around my little family. And now, I didn't know what to do to seal the breaches.
Or maybe… maybe I didn't even want to seal them.in