"People were already waiting for me, but my son isn't here…" a middle-aged woman who still looked as fine as wine, as though she wouldn't age, said as she bit the tips of her nails.
Her hands were fidgeting as she scratched her neck with the other. As someone dressed in white on a day when everyone was seated, waiting for the bride, she was far too troubled and frustrated to be the bride they were expecting.
One of the bridesmaids, her friend, responded, "Have you called him? Since he said he would be here, he should be here soon."
"I have tried calling him since yesterday, but it's not going through."
As they spoke, another bridesmaid entered and said, "Catherine, I'm afraid you'll have to say your vows without your son."
She looked up, her eyes almost watering as she said, "I think I deserve it. I don't know why I hoped so much that he would actually come."
A teardrop escaped from her eyes, and she quickly wiped it away with the handkerchief that had been waiting nearby.
Inside the well-decorated hall, a tall, handsome man with blonde hair could be seen waiting at the altar. He was dressed in a finely tailored black suit, his shoes neatly polished and his hair perfectly styled.
Then, the bride finally revealed herself. With her bridesmaids before her, walking her down the aisle, she soon reached the altar.
The priest began the necessary rites, and soon, they reached the most crucial moment.
"If you do, say 'I do,'" the priest said, facing Catherine just after Fredrick had said his vows.
"I do," Catherine said, a smile finally appearing on her face amid the turmoil she had been enduring in her mind since the day began.
"The bride and groom may now kiss," the priest announced, and the groom smiled, mirroring the bride before him. Just as they both leaned closer, a phone began ringing loudly in the hall.
Everyone's eyes were alert as they looked around, and the sound seemed more prominent from the bride's side. Catherine realized too late that it was the phone in her pocket, and she brought it out without thinking too much.
She left the groom hanging as she answered the call.
"Are you the emergency contact of Mr. Dylan? He was arrested about 30 minutes ago," the caller said.
"What?!" It was both surprising and confusing to Catherine that her meek son, the one she had been waiting for, had been arrested.
Without waiting to speak to the groom, she rushed out of the hall, and the groom followed, along with another man, tall and imposing, dressed in a suit.
It was already evening, and the police station where Dylan had been arrested was close to the airport, so the ride was too long.
Inside the car that Fredrick drove, she kept sighing, her mind racing as she tried to process the impossible. Soon, they reached the station, and Catherine got out of the car.
She sprinted inside while the others waited. Inside, she stood before the front desk and said, "Please, I'm here for my son."
"Please, you need to calm down and tell us your son's name."
"His name is Dylan Kang…"
The officer pointed in a direction, and she went straight there. Two men were seated in front of another officer, being questioned.
As she got closer, she looked at them properly and tapped one of them.
He was dressed in a black T-shirt, wearing a head warmer and gloves, with almost all his skin covered except for his face. He turned to look at her, and they stared at each other for a while.
She muttered, "Dylan?"
It sounded more like a question, carrying all the emotions she had been bottling—guilt, regret, and the weight of seeing her son for the first time in about seventeen years. Even though she had seen pictures, she still needed confirmation.
And then what she feared happened.
The other man beside him, dressed almost the same except for a hoodie that hid his face even more, spoke up.
"Hey… Dylan, he's here."
He added, his tone distant, making her feel even more guilty, "How does it feel not being able to recognize your own son?"
"Oh… my God!" she said, turning fully to him. Catherine rushed into a hug that wasn't properly returned.
Dylan, looked at the mother he had almost forgotten. All he felt was growing annoyance and irritation as she tried to wrap him in her arms.
He pulled away and stood up. "I guess you can sort the rest while I wait over there."
"Yes… dear, you can wait while I sort this."
Catherine discussed with the officer, and shortly after, Dylan was bailed and given a warning.
"You're done?" Dylan asked, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets as he looked at her.
"Yes."
"Then let's go," he said, already walking off before she could say anything else.
"What did you do…?" she asked, but he was already gone.
Dylan stepped outside the station and finally got the chance to breathe in the air of his homeland again, after fifteen years of being sent away to Korea.
He had almost forgotten what America felt like.
He sighed and began removing his gloves, then his coat and head warmer.
Catherine came outside, her mouth slightly open as she stared at him. "You… what?"
"Yes, I knew you would react this way. That's why I didn't remove all these inside, even though I was fucking burning up. They might be judgmental too, just like the fool I hit."
As Dylan spoke, two men approached them. It was Fredrick and his son.
His son stood there—imposing, with a poker face.
He stared at Dylan, who looked right back at him.
Sebastian knew he would be getting a stepbrother, but he had never imagined this.
Tattoos across his body. Bleached hair. Piercings.
Trouble.
And strangely… familiar.
'He has changed a lot…' Sebastian thought as he continued staring at Dylan.