I put down my coffee.
“That’s good. Does Emily know?”
“Not yet.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I know,” he said. “I’m telling her today.”
“Good.”
He sat down.
“If she accepts her promotion, we’re staying here at least another four years. Maybe longer.”
“And?”
“I don’t know whether I can do that.”
For once, he wasn’t pretending.
He was simply saying what he wanted.
“I don’t want to run my father’s company,” he continued. “I don’t want the life he chose. I want to build something myself.”
“Then tell your wife exactly that.”
“I will.”
He hesitated.
Then said,
“She listens to you.”
I knew immediately where he was going.
“No.”
“You want her closer too, Stella. We’d be living on the same continent. You’d see her more.”
The image came instantly.
Emily drinking coffee at my kitchen table.
Birthdays without airports.
Christmas without video calls.
Joon saw the temptation on my face.
“Just help her understand the advantages.”
I looked directly at him.
“You’re asking because you know I’m biased.”
He said nothing.
“I want my daughter home more than you understand. But if she ever comes back, it needs to be because she chooses it.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
I started toward the hallway.
Then stopped.
“And don’t use my loneliness to justify what you did.”
Emily was sitting on the edge of her bed when I found her.
“I owe you an apology.”
She sighed.
“Mom.”
“No excuses. No ‘but.’”
That made her look at me.
“I’ve spent years telling you I only wanted you to be happy. But too often what I really meant was that I wanted you happy somewhere I could easily reach you.”
Her eyes filled.
“You never promised you were coming home. I turned hope into expectation.”
I sat beside her.
“Missing you is my responsibility. Your life belongs to you.”
Emily leaned against me.
I held her.
Then she whispered,
“What if I accept the promotion and stay here another four years?”
There it was.
The question I had quietly feared for years.
“I’ll hate missing birthdays.”
She looked at me.
“I’ll hate needing a twelve-hour flight just to drink coffee with my daughter.”
“Mom…”
“But that is mine to carry.”
She stared at me.
“If Korea is where your life is, I’m going to stop talking about America as though your real home is sitting there waiting for you to return.”
Emily covered her mouth.
I squeezed her hand.
“Choose your own life, sweetheart.”
Later that day, Joon finally told her about the job offer.
I didn’t stay for their conversation.
I went for a walk.
