The night saw sleep for Drake and me, and I woke up in the extremely fluffy bed with a set of warm eyes gazing upon me.
His golden chest bare, Drake ran his fingers down my side, calling me his gorgeous girl before he placed a kiss on my lips. Wrapping my arms around him, I held him there. Our good morning kiss lasted longer that day, mostly because I think we both knew that things would change once we left the warmth of the bed. His life would change. Reality for us both would change, as I’d also be affected by anything he went through. We were both denying the evitable until the ringing phone let us know it was time to get up. The caller was Han, checking in for the time he needed to be at our hotel to pick us up.
We both decided business casual would be best for the meeting at the agency. Drake took the adoption papers his mom had provided him with, and we walked hand in hand into the downtown establishment after Han dropped us off. A tiny woman sat at the front desk. She spoke to us, but didn’t speak any English, so the exchange was limited. She raised her hands, and when she returned, she brought a male translator with her. Drake stated our business to him, and we were told to wait in the lobby for our appointment to begin.
The camera rolled the whole time. Drake wouldn’t have it any other way. The translator returned and didn’t seem to have a problem with us recording, so I kept it on while we were guided into a small room. It was empty of anyone and held a desk with a couple chairs in front of it.
“Your social worker will be here soon, Mr. Drake,” the translator said. “I’ll be nearby if you need me, but the social worker, Choi Hana, is quite fluent in English. She should be able to assist you just fine.”
The translator left us and I held Drake’s hand. It was definitely clammy under mine. He was nervous, and that only made sense. I held his hand tighter.
A small woman came in, and we both released a breath. We must have been holding it in.
She bowed to us. “Mr. Drake, I’m Hana,” she said, her voice heavily accented. “I’ll be the social worker handling your case.”
He stood and shook her hand, bowing. “Nice to meet you. This is my fiancée, Lacey.”
After I exchanged greetings with her, she sat at her desk. I was told once again recording was okay, then Drake and I both watched as she opened a briefcase. The breath was held again when she retrieved a bulky, expanding folder out of it and dropped it on her desk. The folder was labeled with his parent’s names along with one other, and it wasn’t Truman Drake. It said: Kang Seung-Tae.
Drake saw the name just as clearly as I had. He pointed to the folder. “Is this my birth name? My parents said I wasn’t given one.”
She nodded. “That’s correct. Your birth mother left that area blank when she filled out the paper work, but according to the notes from that day, she kept calling you Seung-Tae. Since her last name is Kang, the agency labeled ‘Kang Seung-Tae’ as your birth name. The name was never legalized, though. That’s most likely the reason your parents didn’t share it with you.”
“What’s her name? My birth mother’s?” Drake said, his voice sounding on autopilot.
Hana smiled. “Her name is Mi Hi. Kang Mi Hi.”
I could tell so many thoughts were flashing behind Drake’s dark eyes at the moment, but he didn’t look unhappy about any of them. He seemed more awed, stunned by the new information. I squeezed his hand, smiling at him. Slowly, he was opening the doors to his past, and this had to be the start of some closure for him.
The woman pulled out a couple photos from the folder and Drake’s shell-shocked expression only lingered longer. There were photos of that same child from the video we both saw, only younger. He really was a baby here. In the home video, he’d been a little older.
“How old was I here?” He asked my internal question, staring at the photos.
The woman quickly answered. “You were a few months old when your mother brought you in. Your adoption was finalized when you were two.”
I didn’t realize the process of adoption took this long, but that made sense. There were a lot of necessary steps to take in order to make sure a child received a good, loving home.
Drake gazed up from the photo and finally spoke. “Do you have any pictures of my birth mother?”
She placed her hands on her desk, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, we don’t, and we don’t have much information we can give you about her. Many times birth mothers don’t leave much information. They’re usually alone when they come in, scared sometimes, so we don’t pressure them. I can provide you with what I have though. That folder is yours to keep. It’s a copy of everything we have here at the agency. It’s all been translated for you.”
I had the camera positioned as he looked through it. There were so many documents that this would take some time to go through thoroughly. Drake thumbed through it quickly. Almost like he was looking for something in particular. He stopped on a paper, and I knew he was.
It was information about his mother.
His social worker was right. There wasn’t much there. They had her name of course, and then a short description of her. She was five foot two and an hundred and five pounds. She was so small. The information stated the description was estimated, though. It must have been written by people from the agency when she came in.
In the next section of the document, there was an area for information about the birth father, but this was completely blank. I knew immediately when Drake saw that section because his face fell. He’d have to find out about him through her.
To my surprise, the next area showed where she lived at the time of dropping him off. I couldn’t believe she actually filled that part out. I touched his shoulder. “Drake, you know where she lived. That could really help.”
True this information was almost twenty years old, but that was definitely a step in the right direction.
Drake flashed me a smile that read only hope before he flipped the paper over, but that expression faded away the moment the document was turned over.
By what I read, I knew why.
The section gave details about Drake’s birth. More specifically the reason Drake’s mother put him up for adoption. There were only five words, but they were enough to shoot an intense tremor into my heart, and they were also responsible for the look of horror currently displayed on my fiancé’s handsome face.
Reason for Relinquishment: Natural mother victim of rape.
Chapter Eight
Drake placed his cellphone face up on the desk in our hotel room. After swiping his finger across the front, he hovered his fingers over the keys. “Go ahead and turn the camera on, Lacey,” he said, not looking up at me.
Sitting on the couch next to the desk, I held the camera in my hand, unsure of what to do. Drake hadn’t said anything since we left the agency. He told Hana that he needed a day to process everything; that he just needed a bit of time before he pushed searching for his birth mom. She told him fine, and we left. Those were the last words I heard him say until now. I watched television with him most of the day. We sat in silence, studying actors on the screen neither one of us could understand. I offered to turn on the subtitles, but he simply shook his head. I never bothered him about it again. I ordered dinner for him, but his portion went cold. I couldn’t eat mine after that and mine went cold as well. Out of nowhere, he stood and went to the desk, his phone in hand. Now, he was asking me to record. I didn’t know if I should.
“What are you doing?” I dared to ask him, fingering the record button nervously.
He stared at the phone, a blankness behind his eyes. “I’m going to call my mom. Tell her everything.”
I gripped the camera. “Do you think that should be private?”
Turning just his head, he faced me, an urgency in his gaze. “We said we would get everything, right?”
Despite my reservations, I nodded. After placing the camera on the desk, I hit record.
The camera captured it all. The few seconds he took before he was ready to dial, the ring that shou
ldn’t sound as loud as it had in the silent hotel suite, and the eons it felt like it took to hear his mom’s voice. It got it all.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Mrs. Drake’s voice sounded into the room.
Drake took a second before he answered. Maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought. It was too late now, though. She was on the phone. “Hi, Mom. Lacey’s here too. I have you on speaker.”
“Hi, Lacey,” she said, her voice so genuine about her greeting.
My lips lifted into a small smile. “Hey, Madeline. Don’t let me bother you guys. I’m just sitting here.”
Despite the fact that I was on the line, I didn’t want to impose myself. I’d stay quiet while they talked.
“Oh, okay. Well, how are things, dear?” Mrs. Drake asked. I assumed she was referring to Drake. “You went to the agency today, right? What did they say?”
She got right down to business, and I was sure if she’d known what she was in for she wouldn’t have been so quick to inquire.
Drake’s jaw worked a bit, and he swallowed before he spoke. “Yeah, I went, and I found out some information I wanted to tell you. Something I wanted to talk to you about.”
The line went silent for a moment.
“All right.” Her voice wasn’t nearly as cheery as before. She must have known something wasn’t right by his tone when he spoke.
Drake propped his cheek on his hand, not lifting his gaze from the phone like his mother was actually there in front of him. “My social worker gave me lots of information we didn’t have in our files. I know my birth mother’s name, and where she was from.”
“Oh, that’s great, Truman.” Her voice sounded a bit relieved. “Anything about your birth father?”
At the words of his father, Drake closed his eyes. How much heartbreak could a person be given in their lifetime before they shattered? If it wasn’t bad enough he didn’t have the love he wished he had from his adopted father… Now he had this new blow. This new terror brought about his life.
He came right out and said it. “My mother was raped, Mom. I don’t know anything about my father.”
Again, the line was silent.
Opening his eyes, Drake spoke before his mother could. “Did you know?”
“Oh, Truman,” she whispered. “Truman, of course not. Oh, sweetheart…” When her voice broke off, I knew she was taking a moment. “I’m so sorry. That’s what the agency told you?”
He nodded like she could see. His nostrils flared, his tan cheeks flushed. “The documents they had said that was the reason for her ‘relinquishment.’”
That final word came out laced with such heartache and strain that I reached over to touch him. He breathed in, my hand on his back.
“How did you not know?” he whispered into the line.
“The agency never told us, dear. The only reason they stated was your birth mother was unable to care for you due to adverse circumstances. Those were their exact words.”
His eyebrows narrowed at that. “Why would they tell you that and not the truth?”
“I can only gather they feared that information might hinder a potential adoption.”
I shook my head. God…
“Would it have?” he asked, his voice came out cracked. So silent.
I squeezed his shoulder, fighting so hard to stay in my seat and let him talk to her when all I wanted to do was hang up the phone and hold him forever.
“Of course not, sweetie. Of course not.”
Mrs. Drake words, though I knew were one hundred percent genuine, were unfortunately a moot point. She was speaking about something that never happened. A scenario that didn’t exist no matter what she said now. The fact of the matter was, almost twenty years ago, she didn’t know that baby that came off the plane for her and her husband. If she hadn’t met Drake, if she hadn’t held him in her arms, would things have been different? Would they have? Or would he have been just another face among many?
Drake’s eyes held many thoughts behind them as he stared at the phone, listening while his mother continued to assure him with a soothing voice. I’d bet money that some of his thoughts were the same as mine. He was questioning his want, how much he was really wanted, and I ached for him.
After minutes of his mom speaking with only a few words from her son in response, Mrs. Drake finally allowed the call to end. “I love you, sweetheart. So much. If you need to come home please do. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for. Please call me if you need anything, honey. Don’t hesitate. I’m here for you, darling.”
“All right, Mom,” Drake said, his voice struggling out. His voice shook like he was more than ready to end this call. Like he had to before he broke. “I love you too. I’m going to let you go now, okay?”
“Okay. Goodbye, sweetie. Goodbye, Lacey.”
I swallowed, realizing my mouth had dried. “Bye, Madeline.”
Drake touched his cellphone screen, ending the call, then sat with his hand hovering over the phone in silence. My hand was still on his shoulder, but I didn’t dare move it. I simply stared at him, willing him to look up. He wouldn’t acknowledge me, though. In the end, my hand slid from him when he got up.
He retrieved the large expanding folder that changed his life from the coffee table. Without words, he placed it on the desk and studied its contents.
I sat back, wanting to say something, but I couldn’t form words. The last thing I felt he should be doing was looking at those. Intentionally giving himself more heartache. He should be relaxing, allowing his mind some ease with a break. I decided against using words to express what I felt.
I didn’t speak either when I got up from the couch. I went into the marble bathroom, drawing a warm bath. A large bottle of shimmering bubble bath rested on the edge of the tub. I added it and the soft notes of amber and honey-suckle filled my nose from the rushing waters that filled the tub.
The bubbles rolled, multiplying until the tub was consumed by them. I shut off the water, then found a silky white robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I switched out my clothes for it, my body completely naked underneath.
When I made it back into the sitting room of the suite, Drake was exactly where I left him. I wasn’t quiet when I came out, but he didn’t look up.
I made it over and stood behind him. My heart beat rapidly. I feared he wouldn’t respond to me, but I tried anyway. “I ran a bath for you, Drake.”
He didn’t lift his head, sighing. “Thanks, Lace, but you can take it. I got to look these things over. I really appreciate it, though. That was very nice of you.”
I gripped the closure of my robe. No. No, he didn’t need to look the papers over. Not right now. They could wait. They weren’t what he needed right now. He needed a break. He needed… me.
Silently, I made it to his side and shut the camera closed beside him.
Following my hand, he gazed up at me. His eyes moved, his lips parted as he appraised my body. His intense stare blazed a layer of heat over my skin. He was analyzing what was presented here for him. What was his and always would be.
And I was about to let him know just that. That I was his.
“I’ll only take it if you join me,” I whispered.
I undid the robe’s belt. Drake’s gaze followed when I placed my hands on the two sections closing my robe, and he drew in a sharp breath as I parted them.
Sliding my hands down my body, I opened the robe just enough to expose the flesh between the valley of my breasts. This also revealed my mound to him, and my legs shook at the activity tingling between my thighs. I could feel myself dripping for him already. My body needed his. Craved his.
The anticipation for Drake’s touch was killing me, and I was unsure if he even would. He was so upset by what happened today. Fortunately, he didn’t make me wait long for his acceptance.
He pushed his hands into my robe at the waist. His touch was like hot lava, burning me and marking me.
He pulled me closer, corralling me between his legs. He didn’t op
en my robe anymore, but simply rested his forehead against my belly. His warm breath moved over my skin, and I closed my eyes, running my fingers through his wonderfully thick hair. He let me hold him this way for a long time, then suddenly his lips were on my stomach, kissing softly.
I gasped in a breath, and I was pulled onto his waist, straddling his legs between my thighs. His hand pushed up my tummy and part of the robe was smoothed away from my breast. Without words, his drew my nipple into his mouth, suckling earnestly.
I whimpered, wriggling on his lap. He squeezed my breast while he sucked, warming my nipple ring in his mouth. I wanted him to put his hands on me below, push his fingers inside me to make me come, but he didn’t.
My thighs were grabbed with his large hands, and my breast popped from his mouth when he lifted his head. He licked his full lips of my taste, then raised me up in his arms.
I secured my arms around his neck and was taken to the bathroom. It was so warm in there, the heat trapped from the bath in the room.
Drake placed me on my feet and immediately undressed, his eyes trained only on me while he did. I could only watch as he exposed himself. The golden contours of his chest, perfect sections carved into every inch. His solid thighs clad behind black boxers.
That was until he pushed them down.
He hung naked before me with only confidence in his gaze. Moving forward, he towered over me and pushed the robe down my arms. It fell to the floor, and I was guided to the tub. He got in first, and I was motioned to sit in front of him.
I nibbled my lip ring backing. “I want to wash you first.”
He nodded, and the small smile he wore as he moved forward so I could get in behind him made my heart leap.
The tub was quite large, which was good. Drake was really tall and had long legs. There was just enough room for me to get behind him. I wrapped my legs around his waist like Julia Roberts did to Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. I smiled at the thought. I really loved that movie.
After rubbing sweet smelling soap on my hands, I started by massaging his shoulders. I moved the soap into his beautiful skin. He was so tense, and it hurt my heart.
Heart & Seoul Page 4
