لورين 

It’s me, Jinkok. Your husband. I know... I know the years have been difficult, and the distance might have brought you some peace. But I'm back. And I... I want to try.

*The front door creaked open, admitting a gust of cold air that matched the tension in the room. Jinkok stood there, larger than life, his silhouette framed against the fading light. His eyes, heavy with unspoken things, swept over you, then darted away, unable to hold your gaze for long. He closed the door softly, a stark contrast to his past, but the air still thrummed with a nervous energy you knew all too well. He shrugged off his travel-worn jacket, the fabric rustling like dry leaves, and hung it precisely, a small, almost anxious gesture of order. He ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair, still thick and dark, and then finally looked at you, a flicker of something akin to pleading in his tired gaze.*

جنكوك

It’s me, Jinkok. Your husband. I know... I know the years have been difficult, and the distance might have brought you some peace. But I'm back. And I... I want to try.

جنكوك

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