The holiday weekend and short break from my dad's treatment passed quickly. On the ride home from Christmas dinner at Seokjin's I was sure to reiterate that I didn't want him making attempts to bring us together, even subtlely. He rolled his eyes at me from the other side of the back seat and crossed his arms over his chest for the rest of the ride like I'd just popped his favorite balloon.

At the top of the week I was back to passing snacks and bottled drinks down the line to my dad and Seokjin. Seokjin seemed tired, tucking the crisps into his bag and leaning back in his seat with a drawn out sigh.

He slept for an hour, through my dad's chainsaw snoring next to him and until I'd read through half of the final book I was squeezing in before the end of the year.

I didn't realize he was awake until I heard him giggle, peeking over my dad to catch him covering his mouth to stifle his response to the way my dad's lips fluttered together with every exhale, letting out an admittedly humorous sound.

His eyes widened momentarily when they met mine, relaxing when I acknowledged the hilarity of my dad's snore with a low chuckle.

We sat back in our seats but were unable to stop the laughter that bubbled over our lips every time dad's puttered, going back and forth until my dad sputtered awake at the sound.

"What's funny?" He smacked his lips together a few times, Seokjin and I going into full denial that we were laughing.

He took a few minutes to fully wake, broaching another topic I was keen to ignore as soon as he was alert enough.

"We need to start working on our resolutions." He looked over to me, bringing forth our annual tradition. We only missed one year in my life, the year after losing mom when it felt too difficult to set any intention outside of getting by.

"The only resolution we should have is to keep you as healthy as possible." I claimed, keeping my sight on the line of my book I stopped at so I wouldn't lose it.

He waved his hand through the air, rejecting my sentiment. "That's phooey. We've got more to look forward to than that. Lets come up with something fun." He turned to Seokjin. "Jin, we come up with three resolutions every year. My wife used to believe three good things could make a year great."

"I've never really made resolutions." Seokjin replied, his attention set on replying to a text message.

"Well now you do. You always say you wish you had stories like the ones I tell. Most of my stories and accomplishments were born out of setting intentions and seeing them through every year." He used the same fatherly tone that was typically reserved only for me.

Jin scoffed at the screen, setting his phone face down. "I'd be happy just to get my mom off my back about this whole dating thing for a year." He ran a hand through his hair, sending fluffed strands in varying directions on his head.

"We'll get you a date this year." My dad chuckled, reaching out to squeeze Seokjin's shoulder.

"I don't even want a date, just enough proof for her to stop worrying that I'm lonely all the time." Seokjin retorted, ignoring the buzz of his phone with two new messages. "Maybe I'll hire someone to go with me to Jaesang's wedding so she'll relax."

My dad nearly snorted at his response. "You're not paying someone for a date, unless that's your resolution. Seline will go with you."

"Don't invite me to stranger's wedding dad." I scolded, attempting to provide a silent reminder of my post Christmas dinner request through my expression.

"I'm sure Jin has a plus one option." He insisted, ignoring the way I nudged his arm. "Plus, one of your resolutions needs to be to get out more this year. You barely leave the block we live on."

Seokjin was quiet while we went back and forth. "I don't have a formal dress for this weather." I gave a weak excuse, hoping that if I pushed my head farther into my book he'd let it go.

He ignored me, turning back to Seokjin who seemed just as intent on shrinking away from my dad's determination. "When's the wedding?" My dad questioned.

"Valentine's Day." He answered quickly. I was suddenly imagining a room decorated in pink and red, cheesy hearts integrated into every decoration.

My dad smacked his thigh, standing and gripping on to the wheeled pole that hung his medication bag. "Good, then you have over a month to find a dress. Now that that's settled, I need the bathroom." He proclaimed, satisfied with his forced set up.

He was barely past the curtain before Seokjin leaned over to me, assurance in his voice but a red tint to his ears that told me he felt some shame around the topic. "Don't worry, you don't have to come to the wedding with me."

"Maybe if I go my dad will get off my back about you." I thought aloud.

Seokjin chuckled, interest sparkling in his eye. "About me?"

I sighed. "He keeps trying to set us up when I've asked him not to." I was honest with my reply, Seokjin's fingers pinching at his chin with curiosity.

"And you don't want him to set us up because?" He pondered, the question making my cheeks flush and heart race.

"Because my resolution is to focus on helping him through treatment and making his health a priority." I skated over reasons that had anything to do with him being my actual soulmate or him being sick.

He accepted my rationale despite me being unable to look him in the eye. "Okay, so we go to the wedding, snap a few pictures to please my mom and have some witnesses who can tell her I'm in a happy relationship. You can tell your dad that we tried going on a date but that I'm a horrible dancer so you can't be with me." He explained.

"A horrible dancer?" I raised an inquisitive brow, knowing my dad would never accept such a petty excuse.

"You'll see. It's my biggest flaw." He responded. I couldn't imagine that I'd find it anything but endearing.

I held out on giving my dad a true scolding until we were back to the apartment, after listening to Seokjin explain everything about the wedding to both of us. Jaesang was an old friend from high school. Their mom's were close so his would be sure to confirm that Seokjin was there with a date. Most of the wedding guest would consist of the bride's family and their mutual friends. He was a part of the wedding party, insistent that he'd be of more company during the reception and apologetic for the time I'd be alone with strangers. I figured I'd be grateful for that, hoping to come out of the wedding date with as little interaction as possible.

"Dad," I started as soon as we the front door closed behind me, rolling my eyes as he did his best to disappear down the hallway like a child being reprimanded.

"I'm playing the cancer card!" He called out from his bedroom door, eager to shut me down with the lowest of rebuttals.

I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall opposite his bedroom. "That's not fair. We agreed last week that you'd stop trying to push us together."

"I didn't agree to anything." He held up a finger to enunciate his point, his mouth turning down at the corners. "Fine, I retract the cancer card, but I am going to use the mom card."

"Mom card?" I questioned with a sigh. That one was equally as bad.

He leaned into the doorway, his eyes coated with the same sad droop they usually carried but heavier with the intensity of remembering her aloud. "You know when I was diagnosed I was relieved. I thought of her first and just wanted to be with her again. I told my doctor I didn't want any treatment, that I'd ride it out until my body gave way to sickness. I could already feel her closer than ever again, but I thought about how upset she'd be if I gave up and left you grieving both of us." He shook his head.

I used the back of my sleeve to wipe at the tears that trailed one behind another down the apples of my cheeks.

"I'd give almost anything for another moment with her in this lifetime," he moved to bridge the space between us, arms around me in a tight embrace, "but right now I'll settle for honoring her with my resolutions: to stay healthy and heal, to get back to running the place our family built together, and to watch you in a one of a kind love."