TIMBER (lee chanyoung) ch. 10
🍃 summary: after one reckless mistake too many, your parents send you away for the summer in hopes that a few months in the countryside with your grandmother might finally straighten you out. you fully intend to count down the days until you’re free again…right up until a bug loving little boy and his father begin making the mountains feel a little more like home.
❀ pairing: single dad!anton x f!reader ❀ genre: single parent au, slow burn, rich kid au, found family ❀ word count: 10.2k
⟶ chapter warnings: nothing!
🌱a/n: wow! after a little over two months it's finally over! gonna miss updating about this little family every friday! thank you so much to everyone who followed along and became invested in this just as much (if not more than me)! thank you for all the love and support! <3
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You’ve folded the same shirt three times.
The first time, you placed it neatly in the open suitcase at the foot of your bed. The second time, you took it back out because you decided it would fit better in your carryon. Now it sits in your lap again while you stare at the half-packed mess surrounding you. Clothes are spread across the bed, shoes sit in uneven rows along the floor and three open suitcases take up almost all the space in your room. You’ve been packing for nearly two hours and somehow the room looks worse than when you started.
It’s your last week in Korea.
The thought has been following you around for days, lingering behind every meal with your grandmother and every afternoon spent at Anton’s house. You’ve tried not to think about it too much, telling yourself you still have several days left and there’s no reason to ruin them by being sad early. The excuse became harder to believe once the suitcases came up from the storage closet and Mrs. Park began asking which clothes needed to be sent to the cleaners before your flight.
You look down at the shirt in your lap and fold it again before placing it inside your rimowa.
Your attention shifts to the small pile sitting beside you. Minyoung’s friendship bracelet he made you two days ago rests on top, the beads slightly uneven and his name stretched across the center in bright colors. Beneath it is one of the sketches Anton made while the three of you were sitting in the garden a few weeks ago. It was a quick drawing, the flower beds and trees of his garden but he added you and Minyoung near the bottom. Minyoung is crouched in the grass with a bug jar while you sit beside him looking considerably less interested in whatever insect he found.
You pick up the drawing and study it for a moment before placing it carefully between the pages of one of your architecture books so it won’t wrinkle during the flight.
A thick insect book is buried beneath two of your sweaters. You pull it free and immediately recognize the rhinoceros beetle on the cover. Minyoung must have left it here during one of the afternoons he spent in your room while Anton worked. You should put it aside to return later but instead you sit there with it resting in your hands, remembering how he climbed into your bed and spent nearly an hour reading facts aloud while you pretended to listen and finished a sketch for one of your upcoming classes.
Your bedroom door opens behind you. You quickly set the book aside and reach for another shirt, trying to look more productive than you actually have been. Your grandmother stands in the doorway with one hand resting against the frame. Her gaze moves slowly over the room, taking in the open suitcases, the clothes covering your bed and the untouched stack near the dresser. “I see packing is going well.”
“I’m almost done.” You murmur.
“Oh? You haven’t packed any shoes.” She says peering in.
“They’re on the floor.” You shrug
“Yes,” she says dryly. “That’s usually where shoes are kept.”
You roll your eyes and turn back toward the suitcase. “Did you come in here just to criticize my packing style?”
“I came to see whether you needed help.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation and picks up one of the dresses lying near the end of the bed. “Though I’m beginning to think you may need professional assistance.”
“I know how to pack.” You scoff.
Your grandmother looks at the shirt you folded three times then at the pile still covering most of your bed. “Clearly.”
You take the dress from her and begin folding it yourself. “I’ve packed for boarding school, college and about a hundred vacations. I don’t need help.”
She doesn’t argue. Instead, she sits in the armchair near the window and watches you place the dress into the suitcase. You reach for another item, fold it and then unfold it when the sleeves don’t sit correctly.
“What?” you finally ask, growing annoyed with her silence.
“Nothing.”
You drop the new shirt you’re holding. “You’re staring.”
Your grandmother folds both hands over her lap. “You’ve folded that shirt several times.”
You glare at her but she only raises one brow. You drop the shirt into the suitcase without folding it properly and reach for the next thing. “There. Happy?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?” You ask exasperated, throwing your hands up.
She looks around the room again. “For you to say what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong?” You ask furrwoing your brows.
“You’ve been sulking for the past three days.”
You pull another sweater toward you and begin folding it, pressing down harder than necessary as your grandmother continues watching. You know what she wants you to say but saying it aloud will make everything feel more real. For most of the summer, leaving was the only thing you looked forward to. You counted down the days, complained to Harvey and Maya and treated everyday in the mountains like another punishment your father forced you to endure. Now, the idea of going back makes your stomach hurt.
You place the folded sweater into the suitcase and sit back on your heels. “I spent the entire summer wanting to leave.”
Your grandmother remains quiet. You stare down at the bracelet beside you and run your thumb over one of the beads. “I hated it here. I hated the house, the mountains, the reception. I hated waking up and knowing there was nothing to do.” A small laugh slips from you, though there’s nothing funny about the tightness building in your throat. “Now I feel sick every time I put something in my suitcase.”
Your grandmother’s expression softens but she doesn’t move from the chair. “You’re allowed to be sad.”
“I don’t want to be sad. I’m going back to Stanford. I get to see my friends and sleep in my own apartment. This is what I wanted.”
“It was.”
You look at her. “That isn’t helpful.”
“I’m not trying to be helpful. I’m telling you the truth. You came here believing this place was your punishment but it became your home because you allowed people here to love you, going back doesn’t undo that.”
You swallow and look toward the window. The garden is visible from your room. From here you can see the patio where Minyoung once spilled lemonade across Anton’s lap and the pool where Minyoung learned how to swim. You can see the stretch of grass where the three of you spent countless afternoons reading, drawing and listening to Minyoung ask question after question.
“What if everything changes when I leave?” you ask quietly.
Your grandmother lets out a small sigh. “Everything changes whether you leave or not.”
“That’s comforting.” You murmur.
She gives you a pointed look before continuing. “I’m not finished. The question is whether you intend to continue to care for the relationships you built, if you plan to continue to pour into them the way they have for you.”
You stare at her.
“Anton and Minyoung will still be here, their lives will continue and so will yours. You will have classes, assignments and friends demanding your time. Anton will have his company and a child to raise. There will be days when calling becomes difficult and visits don’t happen exactly when you planned. That doesn’t mean you lose them unless you choose to.” She continues.
“I wouldn’t choose that.” You defend softly.
Your grandmother stands and smooths down the front of her dress. “Returning to school doesn’t make you the same girl who arrived here.”
She heads toward the door before you can respond but pauses with her hand on the knob. For a moment, she remains facing the hallway. “I’m glad you came,” she says.
The words are so quiet you almost miss them. Your chest tightens all over again. “Grandma–”
“Don’t make this unpleasant.” She opens the door. “Finish packing.”
You laugh despite yourself and wipe quickly beneath one eye before any tears can fall. “I love you too.”
She waves one hand dismissively and leaves, closing the door behind her. The room feels quieter after she’s gone. You sit there for another moment before reaching for the insect book and placing it on the nightstand so you remember to return it. You’ve barely picked up another shirt when the bedroom door flies open.
“Noona!”
You turn just in time to see Minyoung run into the room.
“What the–” You drop the shirt and reach for him as he launches himself toward the bed. “How did you get in here? Where’s your dad?”
Minyoung lands across the edge of the mattress with a laugh. Your hand automatically moves toward his right arm to protect it before you remember there’s no longer a bright green cast wrapped around it. He bends the arm beneath himself without any difficulty and crawls farther onto the bed, completely unaware of the way you’re staring.
The cast came off a week after the science fair. You went with him and Anton to have it removed, sitting beside Minyoung while the technician used a small electric saw to cut through the green material. He spent most of the appointment clutching your hand with his left one and asking repeatedly whether the blade could cut his skin. Anton explained at least four times that it couldn’t, the technician even demonstrated it against his own palm and Minyoung still didn’t release you until the cast was completely off.
Now his right arm looks smaller than you remember and the skin is slightly lighter where the cast covered it but he’s spent the last two weeks using it for absolutely everything simply because he can.
“Halmoni let us in! Daddy is downstairs.” He says, sitting up on his knees.
You raise a brow. “So you just came running into my room?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes!”
You stare at him and Minyoung smiles cheekily and reaches behind his back. “I brought you something!”
He holds out a folded piece of paper. You take it from him slowly. “What’s this?”
“Read it, noona!” He sighs.
“Did you write it?”
“No. Daddy did.” He settles comfortably against your pillows as though he plans to remain there for the rest of the afternoon.
You unfold the note and immediately recognize Anton’s handwriting. It’s short, inviting you to dinner and asking whether you’d be willing to give him another chance at the first date the two of you never got to finish. A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.
Minyoung watches you closely. “What does it say?”
“You delivered it. Don’t you know?” You ask cheekily.
“Daddy said it was private.” He pouts.
You laugh. “And yet you still want me to tell you?”
He shrugs. “Yes.”
You fold the note again and hold it against your chest. “Your father asked me on a date.”
Minyoung gasps like this is shocking information despite the way he’s been playing matchmaker between the two of you. “Are you going?”
You pretend to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m very busy.”
Minyoung looks around at the half-packed room. “Doing what?”
You narrow your eyes. “Packing.”
“You’re not very good at it.” He says honestly.
You scowl. “Did my grandmother send you up here to bully me?”
He giggles and slides off the pillows. “I can help now! I have two hands again.”
Before you can stop him, he grabs one of your shirts and begins folding it. The sleeves end up folded unevenly but he looks so proud of himself that you don’t correct it.
“See? Perfect.” He says tossing it into your suitcase.
You laugh and let him continue. For the next few minutes, Minyoung moves around the bed collecting whatever he can reach. He folds clothes badly, mixes up what bag is meant to hold what. Every task becomes another opportunity to show that his arm is healed. When he notices the insect book sitting apart from everything else, his eyes widen. “I was looking for this!”
You hum. “I figured it was yours.”
He picks it up with both hands and hugs it to his chest. “Can I leave it here?”
“Why?” You ask not looking up.
“So I have a book when I come over.”
You pause with a dress in your hands. Minyoung doesn’t notice. He sits back on the bed and flips through the pages, stopping at a photograph of a beetle before looking around the room. His excitement fades slightly as his eyes move over the suitcases. “Why are you taking everything?”
The question makes you look up. “Because I need it.”
“For your trip?”
You hesitate. That’s how everyone has been referring to it around him. Your flight, your trip, going back to school. Nobody has sat Minyoung down and properly explained that you won’t be returning a few days later like you do after spending the night at Anton’s house. You assumed Anton had spoken to him and Anton probably assumed Minyoung understood more than he did.
“Sort of,” you say carefully. “I’m going back to California.”
Minyoung nods, though his expression remains confused. “When are you coming back?”
“I’m not sure yet. Probably during one of my school breaks.”
His brows pull together behind his glasses. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have to stay there for a while.” You say gently.
“How long is a while?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
“A few months.”
Minyoung goes still. His fingers stop turning the page and he looks down at the open book in his lap. “Months?”
You set the dress aside. “Yeah.”
“But you said it was a trip?”
“It is, but it’s a longer one. I have to go back to school.” You try to explain.
He doesn’t answer. The excitement that followed him into the room has disappeared completely and he begins picking at the corner of one of the pages with his thumbnail. You move closer before he can accidentally tear it. “Bug?”
“Did I do something?” He asks quietly.
The question catches you off guard. “What?”
Minyoung keeps his eyes on the book. “Did I make you leave?”
“No. Of course not.” You sit beside him and gently pull the book from his hands before placing it near the pillows. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugs but his mouth has started to pull into a pout. “Because I asked you to be my mom.”
Your heart drops. The three of you haven’t spoken about the conversation at the ice cream shop since it happened. Anton changed the subject that night and Minyoung appeared to move on almost immediately but clearly he hadn’t forgotten it the way both of you assumed.
“Minyoung, look at me.”
He refuses at first, staring stubbornly at the blanket instead so you place one hand beneath his chin and gently turn his face toward you. His eyes are already beginning to shine behind his glasses.
“I’m not leaving because you asked me that. Not even a little bit.” You tell him.
“Then why?” He whines.
“Because I have to finish school.”
“You can go to school here!”
“It doesn’t work like that. My school is in California and I still have classes I need to finish before I can graduate.” You say fighting off tears yourself.
Minyoung’s pout deepens. “You can quit.”
A small laugh escapes you despite the ache in your chest. “I can’t quit school.”
“Why not?”
“Because I worked really hard to get there and I want to finish. Remember how hard you worked on your science project even when your arm was broken?” You say, rubbing his arm softly.
He nods slowly.
“And you didn’t stop because it got difficult. You kept working until it was finished.”
“That was different.” He trails off.
“It’s a little different,” you admit. “But I still have to finish what I started.”
Minyoung looks down again. “I don’t want you to go.”
The words come out so quietly that you barely hear them. You open your arms and he immediately climbs into your lap, pressing himself against your chest as both arms wrap tightly around your neck. You circle your arms around his waist and rub one hand slowly over his back.
“I know,” you whisper. “I don’t want to go either.”
“Then stay.”
You close your eyes. Part of you wishes it could be that easy. That you could close the suitcases, call the private jet company and decide the life waiting in California no longer matters because this one feels better but your grandmother was right. Staying now wouldn’t keep anything from changing. “I have to go back, bug.”
Minyoung presses his face deeper into your shoulder. “You already said that!”
“I know.” You hold him tighter. “But going back to school doesn’t mean I’m leaving you forever.”
He doesn’t respond.
“You can call me whenever you want. We can facetime and you can show me all the bugs you find. I’ll help with your projects even if I have to do it through a screen and I’ll come back during my breaks.” You promise.
“What if you forget?”
The question breaks something inside you. You pull back enough to see his face and wipe beneath one of his eyes as the tears fall. “I could never forget you. You’re my best friend, remember?”
Minyoung sniffles and nods.
“And you’re my family. Being far away doesn’t change that.”
His eyes search your face, trying to figure out if you’re lying. “You promise?”
“I promise.” You say holding out a pinky.
He takes it eagerly with his own. “And we still have our calls?”
“As many as you want.” You nod.
“Every day?”
You smile. “Every day might be a lot.”
His face falls again.
“But we can try,” you add quickly. “And if I have class or you have school, we’ll call the next day. I’m not going to disappear.”
He studies you for another long moment before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around your neck again. You hold him against you and rub his back while he settles, his breathing slowly evening out.
“It’s only for a little while. I could never leave you behind.” You whisper into his hair.
Minyoung tightens his arms around you. “Good.”
You smile sadly. “Good?”
“I won’t let you.”
A laugh slips from you. “You won’t?”
He shakes his head adamantly. “No.”
“And how exactly are you planning to stop me?”
He lifts his head and looks at you with complete seriousness. “I’ll hide your passport.”
Your mouth falls open. “You know they can make me another one, right?”
Minyoung frowns, clearly not having considered that. “I’ll hide that one too.”
You laugh and press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You dig your fingers into his sides and he squeals, twisting in your lap while trying to block you with both hands. You keep tickling him until his sadness gives way to breathless laughter and he starts begging you to stop.
When you finally release him, he falls backward onto the bed with his glasses crooked and his hair sticking up. You straighten both before he grabs your wrist.
“You really promise you’re coming back?”
You squeeze his hand. “I really promise.”
Minyoung nods, finally satisfied enough to sit up again. His eyes land on Anton’s folded note near your thigh and the excitement begins returning to his face. “You have to get ready!”
“For what?”
“For your date,” he says impatiently.
You laugh at the reminder, you had momentarily forgotten all about Anton’s note. He slides off the bed and reaches for clothes in your suitcase. “I can help.”
You sigh dramatically and stand. “Fine. You can help but I get the final decision.”
He nods satisfied and makes himself comfortable in the middle of your bed while you head toward the closet. For the next twenty minutes, Minyoung rejects nearly everything you show him. After the sixth option, you finally step out in a dress he approves of.
Minyoung studies you carefully, one finger resting against his chin. His eyes move from your shoes to your hair before he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “That one!”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” He grins. “Daddy is going to like it.”
You roll your eyes, though your cheeks begin to warm. “Come on, bug.”
Minyoung jumps off the bed and slips his hand into yours. He tugs you toward the door, talking about the flowers Anton bought and how he wasn’t supposed to tell you about them and you let him pull you downstairs.
Anton looks up the second you and Minyoung reach the bottom of the stairs.
He’s sitting on the couch beside your grandmother with a cup of tea balanced in one hand. His eyes move over your dress slowly before settling on your face, a soft smile pulling at his mouth. Minyoung notices the reaction immediately and looks between the two of you with satisfaction.
“I picked it!” He announces proudly.
Anton sets his cup on the coffee table and rises from the couch. “You did a good job.”
Minyoung beams while you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. Anton is dressed more formally than usual in dark trousers and a button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
You smile and try to hide it behind your hand. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Your grandmother watches the three of you with a fond expression. Anton seems to remember something and turns toward the small table near the couch where a bouquet rests beside his keys. The arrangement is made up of soft pink and white flowers, some you recognize from his garden and others you don’t.
Anton holds them out to you. “These are for you.”
You accept the bouquet and bring it closer to your chest. “You made this?”
Anton nods. “I had help.”
“I picked the pink ones,” Minyoung says.
You laugh and lean down to kiss the top of his head. “Thank you, bug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Anton’s smile softens as he watches you. Your grandmother lets out an exaggerated sigh from the couch and reaches for her tea. “Please leave before I’m forced to watch any more of this.”
You turn toward her. “You’re the one who let them inside.”
“And I’m beginning to regret it.” She says dryly but you know that’s her humor.
Anton laughs quietly before reaching for his keys. You carry the flowers into the kitchen and place them in water while Minyoung reminds Anton not to forget his wallet.
When you return to the foyer, Anton is crouched in front of him straightening his glasses.
“Listen to Halmoni,” Anton says. “No running through the house and no staying awake until we get back.”
Minyoung frowns. “What time are you coming back?”
“Not too late.”
He pouts. “That’s not a time.”
Anton glances up at you. “He gets that from you.”
You place one hand against your chest. “Why am I being blamed?”
“Because you also argue with every answer I give.”
You scoff. “That sounds like a you problem.”
Minyoung nods in agreement. Anton closes his eyes for a second and fights off a smile. You laugh and crouch beside him, pulling Minyoung into a hug. He wraps both arms around your neck.
“Have fun,” he says against your shoulder.
“We will.” You hum.
“Bring me something please.” He asks.
“From dinner?” You question.
He nods his head against your neck. “Dessert, please.”
You pull back and pinch his cheek gently. “You have plenty of snacks here.”
“But I want cake.”
You laugh before assuring him you’ll sneak him a slice. Anton stands and holds out his hand to help you up. Minyoung waves as the two of you step outside then follows as far as the porch before your grandmother calls him back inside. He cups both hands around his mouth.
“Bring noona back, daddy!”
Anton turns as he opens the passenger door for you. “I was planning on it.”
“And don’t stay out too late!”
You laugh as Anton shakes his head and waits for you to get in. Minyoung continues waving with both arms until the car pulls away from the house. Instead of driving directly to the restaurant, Anton parks near the center of town. The evening is still warm and the streets are busier than usual, filled with families leaving cafés and couples walking between shops.
You recognize nearly every building now. The bakery where Minyoung once spent ten minutes choosing between two identical cookies, the bookstore where Anton bought you an architecture magazine after catching you staring at it and the convenience store where the three of you stopped after one of Minyoung’s bug hunts because it was hot out and you all needed to cool down.
“We’re walking?” you ask as Anton comes around to your side of the car.
He nods. “The restaurant isn’t far.”
“You could’ve said that before I wore these shoes.”
He looks down at your heels. “Do they hurt already?”
You think for a moment and shake out a foot. “No.”
Anton eyes you carefully, trying to tell if you’re lying to him. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
Anton holds out his hand. “We can drive.”
You look toward the street then back at him. “I can walk.”
“You’re sure?”
You take his hand and begin pulling him toward the sidewalk. “Come on before we miss our reservation.”
Anton lets you lead for all of three steps before falling into place beside you. Your hands remain joined as you walk, swinging lightly between you. The conversation moves without effort, beginning with Minyoung’s growing confidence since having his cast removed and turning into an argument over whether he should be allowed to climb trees again.
“He’s healed. You can’t keep treating him like glass.” You say.
“I don’t treat him like glass.” He pouts.
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sideways glance. “You nearly had a heart attack when he jumped off the couch yesterday.”
“He landed on his arm!” He tries to defend.
You look at him. “Was he supposed to land on his head?”
Anton gives you a flat look but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. “Make all the jokes you want, I just don’t want him getting hurt again.”
You can hear humor leave his voice slightly and you squeeze his hand. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
He looks over at you. “Thank you.”
You lean your shoulder against his as the two of you continue walking.
Dinner is at the restaurant the two of you were supposed to visit after the botanical gardens. Anton tells you that only after you’ve been seated, waiting until you recognize the name printed across the menu.
“This was the place?” you ask.
He nods while unfolding his napkin. “I figured we should finally make it through the second half of the date.”
“You’re confident nobody’s breaking another bone tonight?”
Anton’s expression changes instantly. “Too soon.”
You laugh. “Sorry.“
Anton studies you for a second before turning his hand over and briefly catching your fingers in his. He orders tea with dinner and you tease him for being an old man. He only rolls his eyes and says your grandmother is rubbing off on him.
You share almost everything. Anton orders one dish you were debating over and slides half of it onto your plate without being asked. You steal pieces from his plate anyway, even after he points out that you already have the same thing in front of you.
“It tastes better from yours,” you tell him.
“It’s the exact same food.”
“No, it isn’t.” You whine.
Anton pushes his plate closer. “Take it, then.”
You smile and take another bite. “You’re so easy.”
“Was I just…played?” He questions. You hum and laugh in response.
The conversation moves through everything and nothing.
You talk about Anton’s firm, Minyoung’s cast removal and his insistence that the saw was going to cut through his arm. Anton claims you made it worse by letting Minyoung squeeze your hand every time the machine turned on.
“What was I supposed to do? Let him suffer alone?”
Anton gives you an unimpressed look. “He was fine.”
“He was scared!” You laugh.
Anton looks at you for a moment, his expression softening again. “He’s always less scared when you’re around.”
The words settle oddly in your chest. You glance down at your plate and move a piece of food around with your fork, suddenly aware of how many moments you’ve become part of without intending to. Doctor’s appointments, science projects, breakfast before school.
Anton notices the shift and changes the subject before it can become awkward. He tells you about Sungchan attempting to teach Minyoung basketball and how the ball hit Junyoung in the face within the first ten minutes. You laugh so loudly that the couple at the next table looks over.
By the time the plates are cleared, your cheeks hurt from smiling. Anton declines the dessert menu when the server offers it. You look at him in disbelief.
“You said dessert was part of the date.”
He smiles. “It is.”
“Then why are you sending it away? I promised our entomologist a slice of cake.”
“Because we’re not having it here.”
You narrow your eyes. “Where are we having it?”
Anton only reaches for the bill. “You’ll see.”
He pays before you can argue and stands, holding out his hand. You take it and let him lead you back outside, the air cooler now that the sun has gone down. Instead of walking toward the car, he guides you farther along the street.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Not far.”
The town begins thinning out behind you as the two of you reach the start of a narrow trail leading farther into the mountains. You stop and look down at your shoes then at Anton.
“You brought me hiking in heels?”
Anton steps in front of you and crouches slightly. “Get on.”
You stare at his back. “Absolutely not.”
“You just complained about your shoes.”
You blush. “I wasn’t asking you to carry me.”
Anton looks over his shoulder. “Do you want dessert or not?”
You hesitate before placing both hands on his shoulders. “If you drop me, I’m telling everyone.”
“I’m not going to drop you.” He laughs.
“You say that now.”
He reaches back and hooks his hands beneath your thighs as you climb onto his back. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and try not to laugh when he stands without any difficulty.
“You’re annoyingly strong,” you murmur near his ear.
Anton begins walking. “Thank you.”
You rest your chin against his shoulder as he carries you up the short trail. The path curves gently between the trees and the lights from town grow smaller behind you. After a few minutes, you notice a faint glow ahead. At first you assume it’s coming from another house or one of the lanterns lining the trail but as Anton continues forward, the light grows warmer.
Soon, you spot small fairy lights wrapped around the trees. You lift your head from his shoulder. “Anton.”
He doesn’t answer.
The trail opens into a quiet overlook above the town. A large blanket is spread across the grass near the edge, surrounded by glass jars filled with small battery candles. Flowers are arranged along the corners of the blanket and woven through the low branches overhead. Some are the same varieties he used in the bouquet, mixed with greenery and smaller wildflowers from the mountain.
A basket sits in the center beside two glasses. Anton carefully lowers you to the ground. For a moment, you can only stare.
“You did all of this?”
He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking shy. “I wanted the date to have a better ending this time.”
You step closer to the blanket and look at the flowers again. It looks like the work he does in gardens, every detail chosen carefully.
“The floral architect in you really came out,” you say.
“Landscape architect.” He corrects.
“Potato potahto or whatever the saying is.”
Anton shakes his head and reaches for your hand. “Sit down.”
You let him guide you onto the blanket and settle beside him while he opens the basket. Inside are containers of sliced fruit, a bottle of sparkling cider and several small white boxes from the French bakery you’ve been obsessed with all summer. One holds macarons in different flavors while another contains miniature cakes decorated with fruit and cream.
Your eyes widen. “You remembered the rose ones.”
“You ordered them like three times in one week.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to remember.” You say back.
Anton hands you the box. “I remember most things you tell me.”
The answer makes your chest warm. You pick up one of the macarons and take a bite before offering the other half to him. Anton leans closer and eats it from your fingers, his eyes remaining on yours long enough that you have to look away first.
The two of you settle into the blanket with the town spread below you. Anton pours the sparkling cider while you open the fruit and arrange the pastries between you. For a while, the conversation remains easy. You rate the macarons from best to worst, disagree over which mini cake Minyoung would choose and argue about whether strawberries belong near dark chocolate.
You lean against Anton’s shoulder as the evening grows darker around you. His arm rests behind your back and his fingers move slowly over your side while you watch the lights below.
“This is better than the botanical gardens,” you say.
Anton looks down at you. “Good. That was the goal.”
You take another sip of cider and let the quiet settle. For the first time all evening, the thought of leaving returns clearly. It’s difficult to not imagine this same view without you in it, Anton bringing Minyoung up here one afternoon while you sit in California surrounded by assignments and noise.
You look down at the half-eaten macaron in your hand. “Minyoung knows I’m leaving.”
Anton’s fingers still against your side. “Did you tell him?”
You nod. “This afternoon. He came upstairs while I was packing and asked why I was taking everything.”
Anton exhales slowly. “I thought he understood.”
“So did I.” You turn the macaron between your fingers.
Anton looks toward the town. “I should’ve explained it better.”
You play with the macaron. “He asked if he did something to make me leave.”
Anton’s face tightens. “What?”
You swallow. “He thought I was leaving because he asked me to be his mom.”
For a moment, Anton says nothing. The only sound around you is the faint movement of the trees and distant traffic from the road below. He lowers his glass and rests it beside the basket.
“I’m sorry,” he says eventually.
You look at him. “For what?”
“For putting you in that position.”
You shake your head. “You didn’t ask the question.”
Anton rubs one hand over his face. “I should’ve spoken to him after the ice cream shop. I thought he forgot.”
“So did I.” You say softly.
“He shouldn’t think he did something wrong.”
“He doesn’t anymore. I explained it.” You reassure him.
Anton looks toward you again. “What did you say?”
“That I have to finish school and that leaving doesn’t mean I’m disappearing.” You pause before adding, “I promised I’d come back.”
Something shifts in Anton’s expression but he looks away before you can read it properly.
You place the unfinished macaron back into the box. “I’ve been thinking about what he asked ever since that night.”
Anton remains quiet, waiting.
“I don’t think he understands what being someone’s mom actually means.” You start with.
“And honestly, I’m not sure I do either.” You laugh softly but the sound comes out nervous. “I know what my mother was supposed to be. I know what yours is to you but I don’t know what that would look like for me.”
Anton turns his body toward you. “You don’t have to know.”
“But being with you means being part of his life too.” You say softly.
You watch Anton swallow before saying, “yeah.”
You pull your knees closer and wrap one arm around them. “I don’t want a version of this where I only get to love you when it’s easy and everything involving Minyoung stays your responsibility. That isn’t fair to either of you.”
Anton watches you carefully.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for him to call me Mom,” you continue. “I don’t know if I deserve it or if he’ll even want that when he’s older and understands everything better but I know I don’t want a future that doesn’t include him.”
The words leave you more exposed than you expected. Anton looks down for a second, pressing his lips together as though he needs time before answering.
“I’ve never wanted someone to replace Jia,” he says quietly.
You nod.
“I don’t think anyone could and I don’t mean that in a good or bad way. She’s part of how he got here. One day he’ll have more questions and I’ll answer them honestly.” Anton reaches for your hand and holds it between both of his. “What I wanted was someone who would choose him.”
Your throat tightens and you look down at your joined hands.
“You showed up when he broke his arm. You sat through the cast removal even when he nearly crushed your fingers. You helped with his project, went to his science fair and listened to him explain the same beetle facts over and over the entire summer.” Anton’s thumb moves slowly across the back of your hand.
Your eyes begin burning and you blink quickly.
“I don’t care what he calls you,” Anton continues. “I don’t care when he asks again or if he never does. He knows you love him. That’s enough for me.”
You let out a shaky breath and look toward the lights below. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” He asks gently.
“That I’ll leave and he won’t understand why. That I’ll get busy and miss calls or something will happen here and I won’t know until later. That one day he’ll think I left the same way she did.”
Anton’s grip on your hand tightens. “Then keep coming back.”
You turn toward him.
“I know you have to finish Stanford, I’m not asking you to stay here and give everything up, I’d never ask that of you. I’m not asking you to move tomorrow or make promises you can’t keep.”
His voice remains calm but his eyes don’t leave yours. “I’m asking you to keep coming back to us.”
Your chest aches. Anton looks toward the town for a moment before continuing. “I knew you were leaving from the beginning. I told myself it was fine because it was only summer and neither of us expected anything serious. Then you started showing up every day and Minyoung began asking if you were coming over before he even asked what we were having for breakfast.”
A small laugh escapes you through the emotion building in your throat.
“I started saving things to tell you later. I’d be at work and see something Minyoung would like then think about whether you’d like it too.“
Anton’s thumb brushes over your knuckles again. “I started imagining my future with you in it.”
You look at him, unable to say anything.
“I love you,” he says simply.
The words settle over you. They feel like something you’ve both known for a while and were waiting for the right time to admit it. Your eyes fill with tears before you can stop them. “Anton.”
He gives you a small, nervous smile. “I know I’m probably two months late but will you allow me to be your boyfriend?”
A laugh slips from you as one tear falls down your cheek. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”
You see a faint blush dust across his cheeks. “I wanted to do it right.”
You wipe beneath your eye and lean closer. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
Anton’s smile breaks fully across his face before he cups your cheek and pulls you toward him.
The kiss is slow at first, his thumb resting beneath your jaw while your hand curls into the front of his shirt. He kisses you like there’s nowhere else either of you needs to be, the fairy lights glowing around you and the town stretching beneath the mountain. You move closer until your knee presses against his and Anton’s other hand settles at your waist, holding you there.
When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours.
“So you’ll keep coming back?” he asks quietly.
You smile and close your eyes. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
“Please don’t forget us.”
You stare at Yebin for a second before laughing. “Yebin? ”
“I’m serious.” She wipes quickly beneath both eyes only for another tear to replace the one she just caught. Sohee stands beside her with one arm around her waist, rubbing his hand slowly over her side while she tries and fails to pull herself together. “You’re going all the way back to California and what if you get busy or make new friends and–”
“I already have friends in California.”
“That isn’t helping!” She cries out.
Sohee looks at you over her head. “I told you she’d cry before we even got here.”
Yebin turns toward him with an offended expression. “You’re supposed to comfort me!”
“I am comforting you.” He smiles down at her, squeezing her hip.
Yebin only scowls. “You’re making fun of me!”
Junyoung snorts from where he’s leaning against the back of one of the terminal chairs. “She’s been crying since breakfast.”
“I have not,” Yebin argues, leaning farther into Sohee despite herself.
Sohee doesn’t hesitate. “Yes you have babe.”
The private terminal is ao small that the group of you takes up nearly the entire waiting area. Your father’s private jet sits on the tarmac beyond the windows while the crew finishes loading the last of your suitcases. One of the attendants already collected your passport and confirmed the flight plan, leaving you with nothing to do besides wait for someone to tell you it’s time to board.
Three months ago, you would’ve been checking the time every few seconds and wondering why they were taking so long. Now you wish they’d find a reason to delay the flight another hour.
You open your arms and Yebin steps into them immediately, wrapping both arms around your neck while Sohee releases her with a quiet laugh. “I’m coming back,” you remind her, hugging her tightly.
“You say that now.” She sniffs.
“I go to school there. You knew I’d have to go back.” You remind her.
“I know, but I liked having you here.”
The honesty in her voice makes your throat tighten. You rub one hand over her back before pulling away enough to look at her. “You can call me whenever you want.”
“Trust me, I will. Who else am I gonna complain about the boys to?”
You laugh and remind her she can also visit, that you’d pull out all the stops to show her how beautiful Cali is. Yebin nods even though she still looks miserable. Sohee reaches for her hand once she steps away and gives her fingers a reassuring squeeze before turning toward you. He doesn’t look nearly as emotional as his girlfriend but the joking expression he’s worn all morning has dimmed a bit, you swear you might even see a frown pulling at his lips.
“Call us when you land,” he says.
You nod. “I will.”
“And keep calling after that because if you disappear, I swear I’ll come find you myself.”
You laugh and pull him into a hug before he can say anything else. Sohee hugs you back without hesitation, patting your back twice before holding on a little longer than expected.
“Take care of yourself,” he says quietly near your ear. “And don’t worry about Anton. I’ll keep him from becoming miserable.”
You pull away and glance toward Anton, who’s standing several feet away beside his parents with Minyoung held against his side. “Promise?”
He smiles and nods before stepping back beside Yebin who immediately reaches for him again. You’re still smiling when Junyoung walks over and holds one hand out toward you. You look at it. “What is that?”
“A goodbye handshake.” He says.
You raise a brow. “That’s all I get?”
He shrugs. “I don’t want you to cry like Yebin.”
Yebin gasps from behind him. “Why am I getting attacked today?”
Junyoung keeps his hand extended until you finally take it. Instead of shaking, he pulls you forward and wraps one arm around your shoulders.
“I knew you wanted a hug,” you say.
“Don’t make it weird.”
“You made it weird by offering a handshake?” You laugh.
He ignores you and squeezes once before letting go. “Bring me something from California.”
You hum. “What do you want?”
Junyoung thinks about it for several seconds.“Something from Stanford.”
You furrow your brows. “You want university merchandise?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll send an application there, feel like I have a good shot at getting in.”
You smile and nod slowly. “I’ll stop by the school store first thing.”
Junyoung smiles and gives you one more hug before he steps aside. Sungchan approaches next, both hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s been quieter than everyone else since arriving. The past few weeks have been strange for him, split between helping Anton close the custody case and trying to make sense of whatever relationship remains between him and Jia now that she’s returned to New Jersey.
He looks toward the windows before meeting your eyes. “So this is it.”
You nod. “For now.”
“Right.”
You study his face. “Are you going to miss me?”
Sungchan scoffs. “No.”
You smirk. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Sungchan ignores your teasing. You smile and open your arms, waiting until he sighs dramatically and steps forward. His hug is brief but tight, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades before he pulls away.
“I’ll look after them,” he says.
You glance toward Anton and Minyoung. “I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who look after you.”
He looks at you mock offended. “That’s not true.”
You laugh and squeeze his arm. “No shame in it, that’s how family works, right?”
He huffs and nods. “I guess so.”
You smile and let him go. “Take care of yourself.”
Sungchan nods. “You too.”
Anton’s father comes over next. He spent most of the morning making sure your bags were loaded correctly and checking the weather along your flight path despite the crew repeatedly assuring him everything was fine. He places one hand on your shoulder. “You have everything you need?”
“I think so.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good.”
You wait, knowing there’s more coming. His gaze shifts briefly toward Anton before returning to you.
“You’re always welcome in our home,” he says eventually. “You don’t need to wait for an invitation.”
The simple statement catches you harder than expected. You nod and step forward to hug him. He wraps both arms around you, holding you with the same firmness he uses with Minyoung.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He gives your back one gentle pat before releasing you. Anton’s mother takes his place almost immediately, already holding a small gift bag you hadn’t noticed earlier.
“This is for the flight,” she says.
You accept it and peek inside. A linen photo album rests beneath several packets of Korean snacks you’ve come to love and a small envelope with your name written across the front. You lift the album out and open the first page.
It’s a picture from Minyoung’s birthday. He’s sitting between you and Anton with frosting on his cheek while the two of you look at him instead of the camera. The next photo is one you took from a bug hunt, followed by another of the three of you in the garden your grandmother took and one from the science fair with Minyoung holding his certificate in front of everyone.
Your eyes begin burning before you’ve made it halfway through.
“I printed as many as I could find,” Anton’s mother explains. “Anton sent me some and your grandmother had the rest.”
You close the album carefully. “Thank you.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
Her arms circle you before you can respond. You hold the album against her back and hug her tightly. “Thank you for loving them,” she says quietly.
Your face presses into her shoulder as the emotions you’ve been trying to keep under control rise again. “They make it easy.”
“I know they can be a lot.”
“Mostly your son.” You joke.
She laughs and pulls back enough to look at you and smooths both hands over your arms. “Finish school. Take care of yourself and come back when you can. We’ll be here.”
You nod because attempting to speak will only make you cry. She kisses your cheek before stepping back beside her husband.
You look over to your grandmother next. She’s spent the entire morning pretending this is no different from any other trip. She checked your luggage before you left the house and called to remind the flight attendants twice that you don’t like olives in anything served onboard. She’s watched everyone else say goodbye without interrupting, her hands folded neatly over the handle of her purse.
When she catches your gaze, she raises one brow. “What?”
“You’re avoiding me.” You jokingly accuse.
“I’ve been standing here the entire time.” She denies.
“You know what I mean.”
Your grandmother sighs and walks over. She reaches for the collar of your zip-up, straightening the fabric before smoothing one hand over your shoulder. “You have your passport?”
You sigh. “Yes.”
“Your phone is charged?”
“Mhhhm.”
“Did you pack the medication Mrs. Park left on your nightstand?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
She nods once. “Good.”
You wait for her to continue but she only looks at you, her expression calm despite the sadness swimming in her eyes. “That’s all?” you ask.
“What else would you like me to say?”
You laugh, though it comes out unsteady. Your grandmother’s expression softens and she reaches up to cup one side of your face. “You did well here,” she says.
The words are simple but you understand everything behind them. The girl who arrived angry, drunk and determined to make the summer miserable for everyone around her feels like someone you remember more than someone you still are.
“I’m glad I came,” you admit.
“So am I.”
You step into her before she can dismiss the moment and wrap both arms around her. She goes stiff for half a second then hugs you back. One hand settles against the back of your head while the other presses firmly between your shoulders.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“I know.”
“You could say it back.” You laugh through tears.
“I could.”
You pull away and stare at her. Your grandmother’s mouth twitches before she leans forward and kisses your forehead.
“I love you too.”
Your throat closes completely. She releases you before you can let the tears fall and gives your shoulder one final pat. “Call me when you land.”
You nod. “I will.”
“And don’t become a stranger in your own home.”
You shake your head. “I won’t.”
She nods and steps away. Minyoung has remained glued to Anton through every goodbye but after his grandparents said their last wrods he had Anton put him down. By the time your grandmother leaves you, he’s standing directly in front of you with both hands wrapped around the straps of his little backpack.
You crouch. “What’s in there?”
He pulls the bag closer. “Things.”
You raise a brow “What things?”
“For the plane.”
“You’re not coming on the plane.” You remind him softly, heart breaking.
“I know.” Minyoung opens the front pocket and begins removing items one at a time. “This is for you.”
The first is a folded drawing of the three of you standing in Anton’s garden. The proportions are completely wrong, Anton is as tall as slenderman and Minyoung appears to be floating beside a flower larger than his head but each person’s name is written carefully above them.
You take it from him. “I love it.”
“There’s more.” He pulls out a small packet of gummy worms, a toy rhinoceros beetle and one of the bookmarks you bought him during your first trip to the bookstore. “You can use this for your school books.”
“That was yours.” You say, unwilling to make him part with it.
“You can borrow it.” He shrugs.
You smile and hold it close to your chest. “Will I have to give it back?”
He nods. “When you come home.”
Your lips tilt downward in a slight pout at his words. You place everything carefully inside your tote before reaching for him. Minyoung steps between your knees and wraps both arms around your neck.
“You packed my other drawing?” he asks against your shoulder.
You nod. “Yes.”
“And the bracelet?”
You lift your wrist so he can see it. “Right here.”
He nods and moves closer again. “When are you coming back?”
“Before Christmas.” You say, already having your tickets purchased for your winter break.
“How many sleeps is that?” He asks cluelessly.
You laugh. “A lot, bug.”
His face falls.
“But we can make a countdown,” you add. “Your dad can help you mark off each day.”
Minyoung glances up at Anton. “Can we?”
Anton nods. “Of course.”
He turns back to you. “And we’re still calling?”
“As much as we can,” you promise.
“What time?”
You hum. “I don’t know yet. California is on a different time.”
Minyoung frowns. “Can you call after my dinner?”
You fight off your laugh. “If I’m awake.”
He studies your face for a moment before asking, “Will you miss me?”
The question almost makes you laugh because there is no possible world where the answer isn’t anything but yes. You place both hands against his cheeks and kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m going to miss you every day.” You say softly.
“How much?”
You smile. “So much that I’m counting down even the seconds.”
Minyoung smiles a little. “I’ll miss you more.”
You shake your head. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.”
You laugh and pull him against you again. He hugs you tightly, his face pressing into the side of your neck while you rub one hand slowly over his back. You’ve promised him over and over that you’re coming back but part of you still wants to say it again until there’s no room left for doubt.
“I’m not disappearing,” you whisper. “Okay?”
Minyoung nods against you.
“I’ll call. I’ll visit. I’ll help with your projects and listen to every new bug fact you learn.”
“Even the gross ones?”
You hum. “Even the gross ones.”
He remains in your arms for another few seconds before Anton crouches beside you. “Buddy, you have to let her stand up.”
Minyoung’s hold tightens. “Why?”
“Because she has to get on the plane.” He gently explains.
“I don’t want her to!”
Anton looks toward you, his expression apologetic but you shake your head and keep holding Minyoung until he loosens his arms on his own. When he finally steps back, he keeps one hand in yours.
One of the flight attendants approaches from the tarmac doors. “Miss, we’ll be ready whenever you are.”
Every conversation in the terminal stops. You nod even though your stomach turns at the words. “Thank you.”
The attendant gives you a polite smile and moves away again, allowing you a few more minutes.
Anton waits until Minyoung returns to his grandparents before coming closer. Everyone gives the two of you space without needing to be asked. He stops directly in front of you and places both hands inside his pockets for a moment, clearly trying to decide what to do with them.
“You okay?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
The honesty makes you laugh despite the tears gathering again. “Me neither.”
Anton looks down before reaching for your tote. He adjusts the strap where it has twisted against your shoulder then checks that the zipper is fully closed. The small tasks give him something to focus on besides the plane waiting outside.
“You’ll text me before takeoff?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And when you land?”
“Yes.”
“And if anything changes during the flight?”
“Anton.”
“I know.” He exhales and rubs one hand against the back of his neck. “I’m trying not to be annoying.”
You reach for his hand. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know.”
You tilt your head. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I know you’ll be fine.” His fingers close around yours. “I just don’t like that you’ll be far away.”
Your lips pull together in a sad line. “Neither do I.”
For a few seconds, neither of you says anything. Anton steps closer. “You meant what you said?”
You tilt your head briefly. “What part?”
“That I couldn’t get rid of you.”
You smile. “Unfortunately for you.”
“Good.”
He cups your cheek and kisses you. The kiss is soft and brief, nothing like the ones exchanged beneath the fairy lights. Your hand catches against the front of his shirt while his thumb brushes once beneath your eye.
“I love you,” he says when he pulls away.
“I love you too.”
A small tug at your hand pulls your attention downward. Minyoung is looking up at you expectantly, his little backpack still hanging from both shoulders.
“Can I have one too?”
You smile at the question. Six nights ago, a day after your makeup date with Anton, the two of you sat Minyoung down at the kitchen table and told him your date had gone really well and that the two of you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend now. He’d stared at both of you for all of five seconds before asking, “Does that mean we’re a family now?”
You crouch until you’re eye level with him, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead.
“Of course you can.”
He grins and you lean forward and press a kiss against his cheek. He giggles immediately, scrunching his shoulders before wrapping both arms around your neck for one last hug. “I love you, noona.”
Your eyes close for just a second as you hold him tighter. “I love you too, bug.”
Anton squeezes your hip as you come back up and Minyoung takes your hand as everyone follows you toward the doors leading to the tarmac.
The crew has positioned the stairs beneath the jet and the engines have begun their hum. One of the attendants waits near the bottom while another finishes checking the cabin inside. Your luggage has already disappeared into the hold. There’s nothing left to delay.
You hug Minyoung one last time before forcing yourself to let go. He returns to Anton’s side, though his eyes remain fixed on you as you step toward the aircraft.
“Noona!” he calls before you reach the stairs.
You turn.
“Don’t forget about me!”
The words carry across the tarmac. You smile and lift one hand. “I couldn’t if I tried.”
Minyoung waves first. Everyone else joins him a second later. Yebin is crying again while Sohee keeps one arm around her shoulders. Junyoung lifts both hands when you wave in his direction and Sungchan stands beside Anton’s parents, trying unsuccessfully to pretend he isn’t crying. Your grandmother remains in the center of them all, one hand lifted and her chin held high.
Anton stands behind Minyoung with both hands resting against his shoulders.
You look at all of them for as long as you can.
For most of your life, leaving meant escaping before anyone could decide they no longer wanted you. You left parties before the attention faded, relationships before they became serious and homes before family members had the chance to make you feel small.
This time, you aren’t running from anything.
You climb the first step and look back once more. Minyoung is still waving, Anton smiling softly behind him while the rest of the family remains gathered around them.
They don’t look like people you’re leaving behind, they look like people waiting for you to come home.
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