Our Love Story - Chaesoo

Chapter 4:

(A/N): sorry for the wait, I got pre-exams and writer blocks.

  This is kind of a filler chapter, in fact. But there are some important clues for what's next in the story.

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2 years later...

Jisoo's POV:

"Mama don't go!" Jiwon cried, gripping onto my skirt.

  I kneeled down and hugged my daughter, a soft smile spreading on my lips as she hid her little face in the crook of my neck.

"Jiwon, we will see each other in a few hours. And I am sure you will have a lot of fun with your grandma; she said she can't wait to see you!"

  She hummed, snuggling more into me. Even after Seung-Chul and I divorced, I always stayed at home to take care of her and my son. They weren't used to being away from me and would make a fuss as soon as I wasn't around, sobbing and screaming until my mother distracts them. I kissed Jiwon's hair and caressed her back, trying to calm her down.

"I love you," She mumbled.

"I love you too," I chuckled and she got away from the hug, crashing her tears with her small fists.

  Jiwon was usually very calm and wise, but since her dad left and never came back, she had trust issues. It was hard for her to make friends, and she would get extremely shy in class if the teacher asked her to answer a question in front of everyone.

  My mother approached my daughter and patted her hair, smiling. I knew she would take care of Eojin and Jiwon while I was away.

  Taking a quick glance at my watch, I put on my coat and grabbed the car keys, kissing my kids goodbye.  I had to attend a fan meeting for the publication of my last book: "How love feels".

  Two years ago, after I met Rosé, I divorced my husband and followed her advice: I worked hard, writing every day until I was ready to share my stories with others. To my amazement, my first book became a bestseller, spreading everywhere like wildfire.

  I was at the same time proud and shy of my success, not daring to show my face on media. But last month, after my second novel was published, I decided to interact with my fans, and maybe even encourage future writers.

  They often asked me where I have found my inspiration, and my thoughts would automatically fly to the gorgeous angel I met in Paris. I tried to forget about her, but how could I possibly erase her from my mind? We shared so much together, yet so little. I remembered exactly how her skin felt against mine, the softness of her features or the deepness of her gaze.

  I regretted leaving her the moment I left the hotel room. Rosé, Rosé, Rosé... Her name in itself inspired me.

  But she may have been my muse, there was still this part of me that was scared of what would have happened if I stayed. I didn't feel heartbroken; only missing... something.