#gul writes

your father's diagnosis with Chondrosarcoma. The feeling of impending loss loomed over you, lurking in the corner, ready to impose itself on you at any moment.

It had been two days since you lost your appetite, preoccupied with your father's condition and the transition of the company's management. Meanwhile, Noel was away for the summer with Jeonghan and Victor and their son, and your daughter was about to start preschool. Everything seemed to be falling into place, yet the taste of the tea you had just drank still lingered on your tongue.

As you stood there lost in your thoughts, you felt sturdy yet careful footsteps approaching you. The familiar scent of his being, fresh from a pre-bed shower, reached you before his arms wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His lips left a tingling sensation as they moved to speak.

"Everything will be alright," he whispered, his voice a comforting reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

You drew in a breath, feeling your chest constricted as your brows scrunched in distress. Despite your efforts to control your voice, it still came out tight. "My father is dying, Won. What could possibly become alright?"

"Y/N," Wonwoo stood straight, pulling you closer to his chest as his hand gently caressed the top of your head, your head now resting against his shoulder. "Don't say that. You know I talked with Doctor Jung, and he's hopeful that there is still a chance. If we go forward with the treatment, then he can…"

"I know that, but at what cost, Wonwoo?" Your voice shook, tears streaming down your face. "He's 70 years old, and he refuses it. He says he'd rather live out his days than lease them in exchange for pain. And I don't understand what's wrong with my mother that she's supporting him in this."

Your knees wobbled, but Wonwoo tightened his grip, carefully sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed and placing your shaking body on his lap. He pressed kisses on top of your head, then nuzzled his forehead against your back, his heart breaking at seeing you like this – his strong wife who always pushed through no matter what hurdles life threw at her.

"How can they be so selfish? Why didn't they think of me? Doesn't what I want matter?"

"Your points are valid, Y/N, and I know that," Wonwoo began, gently removing your hand from your face to look at you, providing reassurance. Mascara ran down your eyes, leaving a trace in its wake, and your lipstick was slightly smudged. The sight made him hate himself for being unable to take away your pain.

With downcast eyes, you spoke, your voice filled with childlike innocence that left no doubt that even though your daughter took after him, she inherited all her mannerisms from you. "But I need my father. I'll always need my father. I can't fathom the day where I pick up my phone and dial his number, and he won't be there to pick up after the second ring and tell me, 'Don't worry, I'll take care of it,' Wonwoo. I hate to think about it. Even a thought like that makes me feel like someone has taken the roof off my head and left me in a room surrounded by walls."

Wonwoo could feel a lump arising in his throat as well. He reached out to kiss your tears, but you moved your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck, circling your arms tightly around him. He shut his eyes and did the same.

"Why do I have to be the one always losing people around me? Why can't I–"

"Please don't finish that sentence, please, Y/N," his voice wobbled as he tightened his embrace.

You let your emotions take over, and the sobs soon turned into silent tears. During that time, your husband silently rocked you, rubbing your back and planting kisses periodically. You didn't know how long you both sat there, but the night had surely grown darker, and his hair was dry.

When his voice hushed, "There will be times when life makes us realize that our mortality is the ultimate and unescapable fact. Thus, it makes it necessary for us to live it while we can. Instead of crying, fighting, and complaining, I think you should spend time with your father and make the most out of it so that you don't have any regrets again about the things unsaid and the opportunity to make new memories with him and our kids."

You shook your head in understanding. "Okay."

"Okay."

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and moved away from his neck, his eyes trained on you with the same gaze as the night in London where he proposed to you.

"Since when did you become so philosophical?" you gave him a small smile.

Catching on to your attempt to lighten the mood, he said, "Just ever since I married this woman. You may know her very well. Or Maybe it's a girl-dad effect."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his antics, a small smile gracing both of your lips. You leaned in and planted a kiss at the corner of his lips, pulling back as both of your foreheads rested against each other.

"Have faith, my love. Let's try and talk with him about the treatment together, hmm?"

"Hmm."

You took a breath as you were about to move off and go change your dress. The pitter-patter of small feet and four paws slowly rushed down the hall.

"You didn't put her to bed?" you asked, your eyes still closed. "I did," both of your heads still connected.

"Hush, Denny, you're making too much noise. You're gonna wake papa and mama up," the voice was now coming from the other side of the kitchen island as both of you were hidden from plain sight. "I am going to grab the chair and get the ice-cream, but don't bark, okay?"

"How is she going to move the chair?" you whispered to your husband.

"That's what I also want to know."

There was a little screech from the dragging on the floor, then a little huff resounded. "This is heavy," the cute voice concluded. There was silence for a few seconds when the patter against the floor resumed.

You both exchanged looks when Iris opened the pantry and brought out the kitchen step stool. With a look of triumph written across her face, she made her way to the other side of the kitchen where the fridge, as well as the two of you, were sitting, with Denny wagging his tail, giving the telltale sign that this was not the first time they were doing this and he was well aware of what was about to come.

"We wouldn't need this if Oppa were here," she said, looking at Denny, when you said, "Is that right?" making her startled and drop the tool. "Hello Iris, fancy seeing you here way past your bedtime."

Your daughter looked at you, then at her father, eyes widened. "Mama, Papa."

You raised your brows in acknowledgement, Wonwoo's failed suppressed chuckle slipping past. "What are you doing with that, baby girl?" he said.

She moved away from the tool and approached where both of you were sitting and said, "Papa, Denny woke me up and he wanted ice cream."

Wonwoo looked at you and then at Denny before amusing his daughter, "Is that right, Denny?" Denny, none the wiser, gave a bark.

"Well, if Denny wants it, then we can give it to him. You can go to bed."

"Noo," she yelped, then looked down and pouted. "So did I."

You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks as he said, "Hmm, ice cream does sound like a good idea. What do you say, Mama?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as both of you got up. You wiped your face with the kitchen towel and reached out for the ice cream bowls.

When Iris asked, "What were you guys doing on the floor?"

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