Chapter 30 Jin #2
We’ve only recently returned from our honeymoon. After we eloped in Philadelphia, we bid goodbye to Daisha and then went off for our own celebration. We bought spontaneous tickets to Hawaii—neither of us having ever been—and enjoyed a week together exploring islands like Kauai and Oahu.
We didn’t limit ourselves to just that getaway.
We decided to make the most of our little interlude and traveled to Japan next on our way back to Korea.
It was a lot of traveling within a two week period, but we made some incredible memories as newlyweds that will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
We’ve both been tired settling back into our lives in Busan. Monroe more so, sleeping more than usual and experiencing aches.
I’m only seated for a minute before Monroe emerges from the kitchen.
She smiles as she catches my eye and approaches the table.
Instead of the plates I’m expecting, she’s holding something small in her hands.
She places it on the table in front of me without a word, then steps back to give me a moment to take a look.
My gaze drops to the photograph that’s been placed in front of me.
It’s a sonogram. A grainy black and white image I know well after her pregnancy months ago and the one we collected then.
I’m rarely confused, but my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing. My brows draw close as I glance up at her.
“Monroe, is this old?”
Suddenly, her eyes are shining with tears. She shakes her head to the side. “Look at the date in the corner, Jin.”
“It’s… today.”
So perplexed as her news dawns on me, I look from her to the sonogram photo several times. I’ve never felt slower, more dumbfounded by a revelation.
…yet as confusion fades and shock takes over, so do feelings of wonder.
“Is this… Monroe… you’re…?”
“The jetlag’s been rough,” she answers with a shrug and quick wipe at her eyes.
“But I’ve been pregnant before, and I’ve learned my body.
Something’s been off, so this morning I called Dr. Gong and she fit me in on short notice.
I think she was as eager as I was to find out what it was. I’m pregnant, Jin. Eight weeks.”
Eight weeks. My mind does the math automatically, tracing back through the calendar to figure out when conception would have occurred.
Two months ago, we were still broken up. Still living apart and drowning in grief and guilt and the distance we’d put between us.
But we had a moment of weakness. We relapsed one evening where we both lost control of ourselves. The first time we’d been intimate since we lost our son…
“But eight weeks ago…” I trail off.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” she asks with a happy laugh between the tears. “The first time we were back together, we conceived another baby. Dr. Gong wanted to make sure you had a new sonogram pic. Our baby, Jin. Our second chance.”
The emotions that crash over me are too vast to name—disbelief and joy and grief all tangled together in a knot I couldn’t undo if I tried. We lost our first son to poison, a twisted scheme concocted by a monster who wanted to destroy us from the inside out.
Now, as if the universe is offering us a gift to make up for what was so cruelly taken, we’re being given another chance.
I find myself unable to speak. There are no words for what I’m feeling.
So instead I rise from my chair and cross to her in two strides, pulling her into my arms and holding her so tightly I might break her. She clings to me just as fiercely, her tears soaking into my shirt.
We embrace for seconds to come, arms wrapped around each other, the magnitude of the moment washing over us.
“This is a miracle,” I say, grabbing her hand. I bring her with me to my chair at the dining table, sitting down first and then sliding her into my lap.
She rests her head on my shoulder as I clutch the sonogram photo and stare at it as if expecting it to change.
Our child is already growing inside her. He or she is already two months along, even somehow surviving the night Myeong-su tried to take Monroe from me permanently.
Dinner sits forgotten on the stove, but neither of us cares. Food can wait.
“I’ve been shocked all day,” Monroe murmurs against my neck. “After everything... I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to call you as soon as I left Dr. Gong’s office, but then I realized I wanted to tell you in person. Here in our home.”
I press a kiss to her hair, my eyes tracing the tiny form captured in the photograph.
“He would have been a good big brother,” I say pensively. “Our first son.”
She hugs me tighter and then nods, understanding what I mean.
We still mourn him, our first son who never got to take his first breath. No new baby will ever replace him, and we’ll carry the grief of his loss for the rest of our lives.
But grief and joy can coexist. Love doesn’t diminish because it’s shared—it multiplies and expands, making room for more.
“He would have,” she whispers hoarsely. “He’s still with us in our hearts. He’ll always be.”
I use my thumb to wipe more of her tears, and we fall into contented, contemplative silence. Both of us deep in thought as we treasure our good fortune.
There were times I didn’t believe I could ever be what Monroe needed me to be. I was too cold and closed off and dead inside. I’ve since realized how foolish that was, and that my fear to break down walls paled in comparison to my fear of losing her.
Opening your heart to the right person doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. Something I’ve discovered isn’t so bad after all.
“We should probably call your mother at some point,” I say with a hint of a grin. “Though it’s likely she’ll pass out when she hears the news.”
Monroe snickers from where she’s perched in my lap. “Are you kidding? She probably already knows somehow. She basically has ESP at this point.”
“That would explain a lot actually.”
We come together for another joyful kiss, lips lingering, then eventually we get up. We walk together to the kitchen to fill our plates with the meal Monroe’s cooked.
A husband and wife sitting down for dinner with our dark past behind us and our bright future ahead.
THE END