Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Four years and continents apart. What keeps Yi Jeong and Ga Eul's hope alive are the letters that they write to each other from time to time…

LOVE LETTER

XXIX

Yi Jeong couldn't help but recall the last time he had been here. He could see it all again, could hear it, clearly, as though it was happening again in front of him.

He gripped the curve of the door handle, shook his head slightly. No, it wouldn't be like that. Not after what the doctors had told him. At the same time, they couldn't guarantee that the mere sight of him would trigger a recurring desire in his mother, the same self destructive desires that caused her to wound herself repeatedly with the knowledge of her husband's infidelity, brought to her by their child. But whatever her reaction, he would open that door and walk into that room. He would see her. She was his mother, and he still loved her, even if it had been from a distance from many years now.

For a second he remembered Ga Eul's concern, and his calm assurance that everything would be alright. And with that in mind, he pushed down on the handle and let himself in.

"Mother?"

The bed was in pristine condition, the sheets perfectly smooth and untouched. The curtains were still semi drawn and the vases were still made of plastic. There was only one thing missing. She was not there. Puzzled, Yi Jeong was about to call out again when the butler greeted him from behind, causing him to jump slightly.

"Sir, Madam is still in the art room. She would like me to bring you there."

"Art room? We don't have an art room," Yi Jeong said, feeling a little bewildered as he followed the butler.

"Madam says she will answer your questions Sir. This way please."

The last he remembered, these rooms had been guestrooms for overnight entertaining. But the smell of paint was unmistakable and as the butler held open the door for him, he walked inside.

She stood with her back partially to him, dressed in a simple black shirt and pants. She wore soft house slippers on her feet, her hair pulled into a neat bun. She was still painting, bent slightly over a corner of her canvas, and perfectly quiet.

Yi Jeong waited where he was. More than anyone else, he understood the need to give an artist the time to focus on their work, especially when they were caught in the grip of that process.

He had never seen her with a brush in her hand before. As a child he had seen her paintings and thought them beautiful simply because she had painted them. As an adult, he could assess her work with a more discerning eye and although her works would never be considered masterpieces, they revealed an artist with an interesting perspective, with potential.

There had been massive changes to the rooms. For one thing, they were now one huge room. The furniture had been moved to the other end, far away from the paint. It was simple, a floor to ceiling bookcase which he could guess were filled with art books, renaissance styled chairs and a medium seized round table with ornate legs. There were refreshments on the table, a pot of what he hoped was coffee and some muffins. There were bay windows now, tall and wide to let in as much sunlight as possible.

Finally, she finished. Wiping her hands quickly, she turned around. "Welcome back," she said, smiling at him as she held out her arms. He went to her and gave her a quick hug. To his surprise, she let go of him first. She was hesitant, he realised, somewhat unsure of what to do. Maybe the mother he had known was finally back.

"The doctors told me that you had started painting again." He motioned at the canvas, admiring the soft yet clear waves she had created.

"This is just for relaxation, and also part of the therapy. It's nothing like what I used to make before," she shrugged, her expression wry yet sad.

"You feel better though?"

"I feel good. Would you like some coffee? I made those muffins."

What she meant was she felt freer. The sea was beautiful but not completely calm, and the island looked uninhabited, just a bare stretch of beach. The stallion was running along the shoreline, and next to it was the faint silhouette of a phantom horse. Free and beautiful and perhaps lonely, he thought, feeling a little guilty that he had stayed away from her for two years.

They spoke at length about what he had done in Sweden, his teacher—who amused her greatly—and also about his future plans. And then his mother asked a question that he least expected. "So, when am I going to meet her?"

Yi Jeong almost choked on his muffin and had to swallow some coffee, which nearly scalded his tongue. "How did you know?"

His mother daintily sipped her tea but her eyes were alight with mischief. It was a little strange, to see her so normal, but it was something he looked forward to getting used to.

"Your father told me. He had to, because of what your grandfather intended to do. I approve of your decision. Now all that's left is for me is to get to know her."

"Her name is Chu Ga Eul. She has a degree in—"

"I already know all that."

"You snooped!"

"Correction, it's called a mother's prerogative. So, when am I going to meet her?"

"I'll see if we can arrange something next week," Yi Jeong muttered, feeling a little like a teenager whose mother had found out that he had secretly been having a girlfriend. "So how is everything?"

"If you mean between your father and I, it's still the same. He's just more discreet." Although she kept her expression carefully neutral, her voice gave away her frustration and sadness. But she was still in control of herself. "But I have been meeting with my lawyers, and I have made some changes to my finances."

"Your finances? Is something wrong?" Although his father was extremely unfaithful, he had never left his mother wanting financially.

"I'm doing it to rectify something I perceive to be wrong. Your grandfather has cut you off in all but name from this family for making your own decisions. I'm glad you did not… let history repeat itself." She took a moment to collect herself before forging on. "You know that my father left almost everything to me, since I was his only child. I've decided to give you your inheritance early. By next week, you would have received half of what he left to me. That includes houses, a yacht and some jewellery that has been in our family for generations."

He didn't know what to say. Her words had stunned him. "Mother, you don't have to…"

"I've already made my decision. It's not as much as whatever you would have received as a So heir. But it should keep you and Ga Eul, if you should marry, comfortably. I want you to concentrate on your art; you have the potential to be great. Don't throw it away like I did."

There were tears in her eyes and before he knew it, Yi Jeong was out of his chair, kneeling beside her and hugging her tightly.

"My poor boy," she whispered, holding him closely as she smoothed his hair down in a familiar gesture. "I haven't been a good mother at all. I've been away from you for so long."

He knelt there in her arms until his knees ached but he didn't care. His mother was back for good. He could never be five again, and the years that had gone by could never be recovered. But they had many more years, a future that could replace and remove the pain of the past.

"Do you still make pancakes?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Would you like some?"

He nodded and felt her smile. "I'll need an assistant."

"Ga Eul tried to get me to help her."

"I hope you didn't wash the rice with soap again."

"Mother!"

………………

Ga Eul had placed her handphone under the table and was checking it for a message when it finally rewarded her by buzzing in her palm. Slipping it carefully into her pocket, she excused herself from class and going to the restroom, locked herself in a cubicle and checked the message eagerly. As expected, it was from Yi Jeong.

Ga Eul yang, everything is alright. My mother is fine. We're making pancakes.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Ga Eul closed her eyes and gave silent thanks that her prayers had been answered. She had hardly learnt anything that morning; all she had thought about was Yi Jeong and whether he would be okay.

That's great. Tell me about it tonight?

Five minutes later, she had his reply.

I'm having dinner with her. I'll come by after to see you though? I have something to tell you.

Can't wait. Do I get pancakes too?

Heart-shaped ones. I'll even throw in one with Mickey Mouse ears.

Mickey Mouse ears indeed, he probably would be getting some maternal assistance with that one. With a soft chuckle, she stuffed her phone back into her pocket and headed for class. As far as she was concerned, everything was better than fine. And for the first time that morning, she could concentrate in class.