park jongseong. 002

The kettle let out a soft whistle just as the front door clicked shut behind Jay. He stepped into the house with Jayden skipping in behind him, his backpack bouncing and voice chirping:
“Mom! We’re back!”

You appeared from the kitchen, drying hands on a towel. Your eyes flicked to Jay, still in his coat, holding a neatly labeled file in one hand, and a half-eaten muffin Jayden had insisted on sharing in the other.

“You’re late,” you said, glancing at the clock.

“There was traffic near the school,” he replied evenly, then looked to Jayden. “Go wash your hands, buddy.”

The boy raced off without a care in the world.

Jay stayed behind, his eyes lingering on you. “I talked with the school board,” he said softly, placing the file on the counter between them. “They agreed Jayden can attend here… as long as we provide a stable, shared living situation.”

You crossed your arms. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying…” he exhaled, careful with his words, “for the kids, it makes sense if I move back in. Temporarily. To raise them together. It’s just… easier.”

He looked up to meet your eyes, and for a moment he wasn’t the CEO, or the ex-husband, or the man who had missed too many dinners. He was just Jay—tired, hopeful, still quietly in love.

“I’ll sleep on the couch or guest room. I’ll take care of morning drop-offs and half the chores. I just… want to be here. With them… With you.”

From the hallway, Jayden’s voice echoed:
“Mom! Can we all eat dinner together like before?”