The Cop From Busan || •PJM•

7.

Ten minutes passed by, and soon enough, dinner was served. June bounced in his seat and fiddled with the chopsticks Jimin had taught him to use.

"Bud," Jimin said, which caused June to snap his head up. Some of his wavy, thick hair fell in his eyes. "Tell your mother what we did today."

June clapped his chopsticks together and turned to Irene. "Daddy taught me curse words!"

Jimin choked on his food. Irene paused with noodles hanging off her chopsticks. Two of them fell into her bowl, and she opted to set the utensils down.

"And what words did he teach you, June?"

"Crap! Frick! Stupid!"

Jimin pointed his chopsticks at June. "This is slander. I told him not to say those words."

"Jimin," Irene said with a snicker. "How does he even know them?"

Jimin grunted. "Shit."

June lit up. "Shit!"

"June!" Jimin and Irene said.

The rest of dinner consisted of Irene tearing Jimin a new one for cursing around her child. June laughed the whole time. When dinner was over, Jimin cleaned up while Irene helped June shower, brush his teeth, and go to bed. Jimin had been envious of June. He got to sleep whenever he wanted. Jimin got to stay up doing dishes with the dishwashing gloves he hated. They made his perfect skin feel wrinkly.

After an hour, Irene came into the kitchen. Jimin wanted to surprise her, so he wiped down all the counters, organized the fridge, and refilled all their seasonings. When she stepped in, Jimin noticed she had gotten into her pink llama pajamas. She was almost a decade older than Jimin, yet she acted younger than him.

"You think my husband will ever come back?" she asked.

Jimin snorted. "That's one helluva conversation starter, June bug."

He had been calling her June bug ever since she gave birth to June. She would never admit it, but he knew she adored the name more than her own.

She leaned against the fridge while he finished up the last three dishes. A family of three had more clutter than Jimin imagined, but he never complained.

"Why are you doing this?"

Jimin shut off the water. "Doing what?"

"Taking care of my kid as if he's your own."

"We've been over this."

"Once, back when June was a newborn. We haven't talked about it in years."

Jimin set June's favorite dinosaur bowl down on the drying rack. He took off the gloves and faced Irene, who had her arms crossed over her chest.

"You took care of me. Now, let me take care of you."

She softly smiled. It turned into a grin before turning into a laugh. Jimin joined in, and she hugged him. There was no one he loved more than Irene, and he knew he wouldn't be where he was without her.

"You want to tell me about the appointment?" he asked as they parted.

"You already know. Let's not go through the routine again."

"We have a routine?"

"I tell you it's getting worse, you hug me and tell me it'll be okay, then I go to the next appointment and the cycle repeats."