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The alarm had been blaring for three minutes—a shrill, insistent beep that felt like it was drilling into her skull. Hyeori reached a hand out from her warm cocoon of blankets, swatting blindly at the nightstand until her fingers found the snooze button.
She sank back into the pillow with a muffled groan.
It wasn’t a hangover. It wasn’t the flu. It was a fatigue so deep her bones felt like they were filled with lead. She’d been like this for a week. A week of waking up more tired than when she went to bed.
Beside her, the mattress was cold and empty. Sooho had gotten up hours ago, probably for his morning class at the university before his shift at the music store. He had insisted she stay in bed.
“You are only to move to go to the bathroom and eat, got it, my sun?” he had said, with that seriousness in his voice that only appeared when his protective instincts kicked in. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine, Sooho-yah,” she had mumbled, half-asleep. “Just… stress. Finals.”
But it was a lie, and they both knew it. Finals at med school were brutal, but this was different. This was a physical exhaustion her mind simply couldn’t fight.
She forced herself to sit up, feeling the room spin slightly. Bomi, the orange kitten, watched her with piercing green eyes from the foot of the bed before letting out a complaining meow and lying back down.
“I know, I’m sleepy too,” Hyeori told her.
She went downstairs in their small house—the house they had saved so hard for, with its little garden and swing. It was their sanctuary. Choco, her massive brown cat, greeted her on the last step, rubbing against her legs with a purr that vibrated like a small engine.
“Hello, handsome boy.”
She poured herself a glass of water, but the thought of coffee or food made her stomach turn. She sat on the sofa, staring at the pathology textbook she’d left open the night before. The words danced. She couldn’t focus.
What is wrong with me? she thought, rubbing her temples. I can’t afford to be sick. Not now.
The front door opened suddenly, and the sound of jingling keys made her jump. Sooho walked in, bringing a gust of fresh air and his usual energy, though his eyes immediately locked onto her, analyzing.
“You’re still in pajamas,” he said, not as a reproach, but as a confirmation of his fears. Sooho hated it when she was sick.
“I just got up.”
“It’s eleven in the morning, Hyeori. You missed your first class.”
She frowned. She hadn’t even realized. “God… I didn’t hear the alarm.”
Sooho dropped his backpack on the floor and knelt in front of her by the sofa. His face, which had regained all its vitality after his recovery, was now filled with a worry that was painfully familiar.
He placed the back of his hand against her forehead. “No fever…” he murmured. “But you’re still pale. And you have dark circles.”
“I’m just tired, Sooho. Really.”
“It’s not ‘just tired.’ You sleep twelve hours and wake up like you ran a marathon. I’m going to the pharmacy. I’ll get you vitamins, maybe something for the flu…”
“It’s not the flu. I’m not congested, my throat doesn’t hurt…”
“Then I’ll go ask the pharmacist what he recommends for…” he made a vague gesture, “…the extreme fatigue of an overworked med student. And I’ll buy soup. You’re going back to bed.”
He stood up, determined. Before Hyeori could protest, he was already putting his sneakers back on and grabbing his keys.
“I won’t be long. Stay here. And don’t try to study. I order you to watch that drama with the ugly actor you like,” he told her, trying to sound light, but his worry was glaringly obvious.
He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left the house.
In the silence that followed, Hyeori sat motionless. The morning sun felt weak. And then, a small, horrible thought she had been pushing to the back of her mind for days surfaced.
Stress. That’s what she had told Sooho. But… when was her last period?
With exam stress, she was sometimes irregular. A day or two late, sure. But… a week? Two?
She did the math in her head. Her heart, which had been beating calmly, suddenly started to gallop against her ribs. Her mouth went dry.
No.
She ran to the upstairs bathroom. She rummaged frantically under the sink, behind the towels and shampoo bottles, until her fingers brushed a small, forgotten cardboard box. A pregnancy test. She had bought it months ago in a fit of paranoia after a particularly careless night, but it had turned out to be a false alarm. She had kept it “just in case.”
Now, “just in case” was staring right at her.
Sooho sometimes didn’t use a condom.
The phrase echoed in her head. It wasn’t an accusation; it was a fact. They had gotten comfortable, confident.
Their love felt so safe after everything they had been through that precautions sometimes felt… unnecessary. They had gotten lazy. They relied on the rhythm method, on “being careful,” and she—the medical student who knew perfectly well how stupid that was—had allowed it.
And I didn’t remember taking my pills.
She had switched brands two months ago. New pack. New university schedule. Had she skipped a day? Two? Had she forgotten to start the new pack?
Her hands shook so hard she could barely tear the plastic wrapper. She followed the instructions like an automaton.
And then, the wait. The longest three minutes of her life.
She sat on the cold edge of the bathtub, head in her hands. Please, no. Please, no. Please, no.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want children with Sooho. Someday. In the future. In that perfect future where she was a resident doctor and he had a stable career, not a part-time job at a music store while finishing college.
They had the house, yes. But they were barely making the mortgage and bills. They were young. In many ways, they were still kids forced to grow up too fast.
Sooho? Her Sooho, who had just gotten his own life back? Who could finally run and jump and be young? was he ready to be a father? Ready for sleepless nights, diapers, a responsibility that dwarfed everything they had faced before?
The coma had been a storm. This… this felt like a tsunami forming beneath the surface of their lives.
She was scared.
For the first time in a long time, Hyeori was paralyzed by a fear that had nothing to do with hospitals or accidents, but with life itself. Fear that he wasn’t ready. That she wasn’t ready. That this, this tiny thing, would be the wave that finally sank them.
The timer on her phone buzzed on the counter.
She stood up on shaky legs. Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt. Squinting, as if looking at it sideways could change the result, she turned over the little plastic stick.
Two lines.
Two pink, bright, unequivocal lines. Positive.
The air left her lungs in a hiss. She had to grab the sink to keep from falling. The world tilted. She saw her reflection in the mirror: pale, yes, just as Sooho had said, but now with vivid terror. Her eyes were wide.
Pregnant.
She was pregnant.
Oh God. Oh God. Sooho.
Panic choked her.
How could she tell him? How do you tell the man you love that you just dropped a bomb in the middle of his reconstructed life?
Tears began to well up, hot and furious. No, don’t cry. Not now. Think.
She decided to do it immediately. As soon as he walked through the door. She knew if she let time pass, if she hid it for even an hour, the fear would turn into poison. It would get complicated. Honesty was the only thing that had always worked for them.
But the words wouldn’t come. Sooho, sit down. We need to talk. I have news. It all sounded like a sentencing.
She went downstairs, the test still in her hand like a weapon. She stood in the middle of the living room, trembling from head to toe.
Ten minutes later, which felt like ten years, the front door opened again. “I’m home!” Sooho shouted. His voice was pure energy, vibrant and happy.
Hyeori froze.
He walked into the living room, carrying a paper bag from the pharmacy and a plastic bag from the convenience store. His smile was wide, lighting up the room.
“You won’t believe it, but I found those spicy squid snacks you thought were discontinued. And I also got ice cream, because ice cream cures everything, even med student fatigue. And I bought…” He stopped.
His smile vanished. He saw her face. He saw her rigid posture, her white hand clutching something, her eyes overflowing with a panic he knew too well.
In a second, the “happy puppy” energy disappeared, replaced by the Sooho who had seen horrible things. He dropped the bags on the coffee table. The ice cream began to sweat.
“Hyeori,” he said, voice low and serious, taking a step toward her. “What’s wrong? Are you worse? Does something hurt?”
She shook her head, unable to form words. The lump in her throat was too big.
“My sun, you’re scaring me.” He moved closer, his eyes scanning her, looking for wounds, fever, anything he could understand. “What is it?”
She lifted her trembling hand. She opened her palm and showed him the small white plastic object.
Sooho frowned, confused. He took it from her hand. His fingers grazed hers; he was warm, she was freezing.
He looked at the object. He saw the two lines.
Time stopped.
Hyeori watched every micro-expression on his face. Confusion. Recognition. And then… nothing.
He went static. His face, usually so expressive, turned into a stone mask. He didn’t pale. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He just stood still, staring at the pregnancy test as if it were text in an alien language he couldn’t decipher.
The silence in the room was so thick Hyeori felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was worse than if he had screamed. Worse than if he had gotten angry. The silence was an abyss.
Say something. Please. Scream. Cry. Throw something. But say something, she begged internally.
He looked up from the test and looked at her. His eyes were dull. Empty. “Oh…” he said.
It was a sound so small, so devoid of air and emotion, that Hyeori’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces. “Oh.” It wasn’t even a word. It was the sound of something deflating.
He set the test on the coffee table, with exaggerated care, next to the melting ice cream. He didn’t look at her again. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she recognized, but this time it was slow, heavy.
“I…” he started, then cleared his throat. “I… I forgot something. At the store.”
Hyeori stared at him, incredulous. “What?”
“Milk…” he said, voice flat, not looking at her. “We’re out of milk. Yesterday. I’m going… going to get milk.”
He turned around and started walking toward the door.
Hyeori’s shock turned into cold terror and then anger. He was leaving? Now? After an “Oh” and an excuse about milk?
“Sooho!” she screamed.
He stopped in the doorway, hand on the knob, but he didn’t turn around. His back was a tense wall.
“If you walk out that door right now, Sooho!” Her voice rose, hysterical. “I swear to God I’m kicking you out of this house! Don’t you dare leave! Don’t you dare do this to me!”
A shudder ran down his back. He stood there for an eternity, his silhouette outlined against the bright light outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was a hoarse, unrecognizable murmur.
“I just… need air. Just a minute… I need…”
And he opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind him.
The click of the lock was the loudest sound Hyeori had ever heard.
She stared at the wooden door for a second, two, ten. The entire world had shrunk down to that closed door.
He was gone.
He had left her alone.
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed. It wasn’t a graceful fall; her legs simply stopped working, and she hit the rug with a dull thud.
And then, the crying hit her.
It wasn’t a soft cry. It was a gut-wrenching sob that welled up from the deepest part of her, from the place where she kept all her fear and all her love for him. She hugged herself, rocking back and forth, the sounds coming from her throat barely human.
I ruined it. We ruined it. He’s not ready. I scared him. He left. Oh God, he left.
They had survived a coma. Rehabilitation. The ghosts of his past. They had built a life from the ashes. And she had destroyed it all with two pink lines on a piece of plastic.
A soft, warm brush against her ankle startled her.
She looked down through the blurry curtain of her tears. Choco was there, looking at her with his big yellow eyes, head tilted. He rubbed against her leg again, harder this time, and let out a low, questioning meow.
“Choco-yah…” she sobbed, reaching out a hand.
The brown cat approached without hesitation and climbed into her lap, right into the space she had created by curling up on the floor. He began to purr, and Hyeori hugged him tight, burying her face in his soft brown fur, inhaling his familiar scent.
“Did I do something wrong, Choco?” she whispered against his head. “I… I scared him. He… he’s not coming back, is he? I ruined everything…”
Choco simply meowed in response, a soft sound, and began to knead her stomach rhythmically with his paws, his retracted claws applying gentle, comforting pressure. He curled up, forming a perfect circle of warmth and fur, right over her belly.
Hyeori cried, with the cat protectively curled over the secret that had just shattered her world, listening to the steady purr and the sound of the front door, which remained closed.
* * *
The sun on the street was blinding.
Sooho tripped on the first step of the porch, his feet tangling clumsily as if he had suddenly forgotten how to walk.
He had to grab the cold metal railing to keep from face-planting onto the cement. His heart wasn’t beating; it was hammering against his ribs like a caged animal trying to break the bars, a frantic, syncopated rhythm buzzing in his ears, drowning out the distant traffic and birdsong.
“Milk.” He had said he was going for milk.
What stupidity. What a pathetic lie.
He walked. He didn’t know where. His legs moved on pure inertia, carrying him away from the house, away from the closed door, away from her.
A baby.
The word bounced around inside his skull, slamming against the walls of his mind like a rubber ball at supersonic speed.
Hyeori is pregnant. There is… there is a person growing inside her. Right now. While I walk down the sidewalk like an imbecile.
He stopped at the street corner, leaning his back against a lamppost because his knees threatened to buckle. He slid down a bit until he was almost crouching, hands gripping his head, fingers tangling in his hair tightly, pulling a little to feel something other than the panic expanding in his chest.
He was scared. A deep fear.
It wasn’t the kind of fear he felt before a fight, when adrenaline sharpened your senses. It wasn’t the cold, dark fear of the coma, that absolute nothingness.
This was different. This was a terror of the future.
I’m still an idiot, he thought, breath coming in short, erratic gasps. I’m twenty-three, but in my head… in my life… I just got my time back. I just finished high school. I don’t even have a real job. I sell guitars and stack sheet music part-time. How am I going to…?
He looked at his hands. They were big, strong hands. Hands that had punched, that had defended, that had held Hyeori when she cried, that had learned to cook rice without burning it—most of the time. But were they the hands of a father?
How do you hold something so small? How do you pay for diapers, food, clothes, school? The mortgage is already eating up most of our savings. Hyeori… Hyeori has to study. She’s going to be a doctor. She’s brilliant, my sun. A baby now… would that ruin it? Would it slow her down? Tie her to a domestic life she hasn’t asked for yet?
I ruined it. I wasn’t careful. I was selfish and careless and now…
An image crossed his mind. Him, failing. Him, unable to protect that little thing. Him, becoming a burden instead of a support.
Guilt rose in his throat, acidic and hot.
“I’m a mess…” he muttered to nothing, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can barely take care of myself sometimes. We’re barely starting to live.”
But then, in the midst of that mental self-destruction, something shifted. A small spark lit up in the darkness of his panic.
He remembered Hyeori’s face. Not the scared face from five minutes ago, but her face when she slept. Her face when she laughed. Her face when she read her medical books aloud to him, explaining things he didn’t understand but loved listening to just for the sound of her voice.
He imagined, almost against his will, that same face, but in miniature.
Big dark eyes looking at him. A small nose. Tiny fingers grabbing his index finger.
Sooho blinked, opening his eyes. The panic began to recede.
A baby.
A baby that would be half Hyeori and half him.
The idea hit him with a different force this time. Not like a punch, but like a warm wave.
A son… or a daughter.
He imagined a little girl, with straight brown hair like Hyeori’s, but with his crooked smile. Or a boy with his endless energy, but with her patience and intelligence.
“Shit…” he whispered, but this time, an incredulous smile began to tug at the corners of his lips.
He stood up from the ground, dusting off his pants.
He had been in the dark. He had been asleep for two years while the world moved on. He had lost so much. And yet, life, stubborn and wonderful, was giving him this.
He had survived death to create life.
A laugh bubbled up from his chest, a strange sound that made a lady walking her dog look at him suspiciously and cross the street.
“I’m going to be a dad…” he said out loud. The word felt strange on his tongue, heavy but true. “Dad.”
He brought a hand to his mouth, feeling his eyes fill with tears. But they weren’t from fear. Not anymore.
He imagined Hyeori with a round belly. Imagined her walking around the house, complaining she couldn’t reach her feet, and him putting her socks on.
Imagined that little creature sleeping on his chest, listening to his heartbeat—the same heart Hyeori had saved.
Yes, they were young. Yes, they didn’t have much money. Yes, he knew nothing about babies except that they cried and pooped.
But they had love. They had so much love in that little house that sometimes he felt the walls were going to burst.
“We can do it,” he told himself, nodding frantically. “Of course we can. I’ll work double shifts. I’ll sell more guitars. I’ll learn to change diapers. Hell, I’ll learn to build a crib with my own hands if I have to.”
Euphoria was filling him, making him feel light, invincible. He wanted to scream. He wanted to call Sieun and say: Hey, stone-face, you’re going to be an uncle, get ready to buy toys. He wanted to tell his grandma.
And then, reality hit him hard, freezing his smile into a grimace of horror.
Hyeori.
He had left her alone.
The image of her standing in the living room, trembling, pregnancy test in hand and eyes full of terror, rushed back into his mind.
If you walk out that door I’m kicking you out of the house! She had screamed.
And he had walked out. He had mumbled an idiotic excuse about milk and left her there, alone, thinking he was running away. Thinking he didn’t want this. Thinking he was abandoning her.
“No, no, no, no!” Sooho spun on his heels so fast he almost fell again.
The terror was back, but this time it was the terror of having hurt her. Of having failed her in the most crucial moment of their lives.
He ran like he’d never run, even on the beach. He ran feeling the air burn his lungs, his sneakers slapping the asphalt in desperation. He ignored the red light at the corner, dodging a car that honked furiously at him.
Please, let it not be locked. Please, don’t let her hate me. Please, wait for me, my sun, wait for me.
Every second he had spent outside was a betrayal. She was scared, and he, her protector, her partner, her “moon,” had vanished.
He reached their block panting, sweat beading on his forehead. He saw the door. It was still closed.
He launched himself onto the porch, taking the steps two at a time. He fumbled for the keys in his pocket with shaking hands, almost dropping them twice before managing to jam the key into the lock. He turned the knob.
It opened.
He stumbled inside, kicking the door shut behind him.
“Hyeori!”
The house was silent, except for a soft, muffled sound. Sooho ran to the living room. And there he saw her.
She was on the floor, curled into a ball on the rug, hugging Choco as if the cat were her only lifeline in a shipwreck. Her face was hidden in the animal’s fur, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
The sight broke his soul. “Hyeori!” His voice cracked.
She lifted her head. Her eyes were red, swollen, and her face was bathed in tears. The expression of absolute desolation she wore transformed into disbelief when she saw him there, panting, sweating, eyes wild.
Sooho didn’t wait. He didn’t walk. He practically threw himself to the floor, sliding on his knees until he reached her, ignoring the pain of impact against the wood and rug.
He gently pushed Choco aside—who let out an indignant meow but moved—and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his chest with desperate force.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he started saying, words tripping over each other, his mouth against her hair, her temple, her wet cheek. “I’m an idiot. I’m the biggest jerk in the world. Forgive me, please, forgive me.”
Hyeori went rigid for a second, as if she couldn’t believe he was there, holding her. But then, a broken sob escaped her throat and she clung to his t-shirt, fingers digging into the fabric.
“You left…” she wailed, voice muffled against his shoulder. “I thought… I thought you were gone. That you didn’t want…”
“No! Never!” Sooho pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands. His own eyes were full of tears now, blurring his vision. “I would never leave. I would never leave you. Listen to me, Hyeori. I would rather die than leave you alone.”
“You’re stupid!” she cried, hitting him weakly on the chest with her fist, a mix of relief and fury. “You told me you were going for milk! Who says that?! Who walks out on their pregnant girlfriend for milk?!”
“I know! I panicked!” Sooho was laughing and crying at the same time, capturing her hand and kissing her knuckles frantically. “I got scared. I went blank. My brain shut off. I just… needed to breathe because I felt like the sky was falling, but not because I don’t love you, or don’t want him… or her… I was just… scared I wouldn’t be enough.”
Hyeori sobbed again, but this time she let herself fall completely against him, hiding her face in his neck. Sooho rocked her, feeling her body tremble against his.
“Don’t leave me like that ever again,” she whispered.
“Never. I swear. You’re going to have to kick me out with hot water next time. I’m going to stick to you like a flea. Like Choco when you have tuna.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes on the living room floor, breathing, letting the terror of the last half-hour dissipate. Sooho rubbed her back, up and down, calming her tremors.
Slowly, Sooho pulled back a little. His eyes lowered.
He looked at Hyeori’s belly. It was still flat, covered by her loose pajama shirt. But now that he knew, he seemed to see a glow around it, as if it were something sacred.
With a reverence he had never felt for anything in his life, he lowered his head and rested his forehead gently against her stomach.
Hyeori held her breath, her hands instinctively going to his hair, stroking it.
“Hello…” Sooho murmured against the fabric, his voice vibrating. “Hello, little bean. I’m Dad. I’m the idiot who ran out a while ago. Sorry. Don’t be scared. Dad is a little slow sometimes, but he promises he’s not going anywhere.”
Hyeori let out a wet little laugh, sniffling. Sooho looked up, chin still resting on her belly. His eyes shone with an intensity that made Hyeori’s legs go weak, even sitting down.
“Really…?” she asked, voice small, vulnerable. “Do you really want it? You aren’t… angry? Disappointed? I know that… I know we weren’t careful. I know we’re young and we don’t have money and…”
“Shhh.” Sooho sat up, placing a finger on her lips. “Yes, I got scared,” he admitted, being brutally honest. “I got scared because I want to give you guys the world and right now I only have a small house and a comic book collection. I got scared because I don’t want to fail you. But…” He took her hand and placed it over his own heart, which was beating strong and sure. “Angry? How could I be angry about a miracle?”
“But university… your freedom… you just recovered…”
“My freedom is you,” he said firmly. “My life started over when I woke up and saw you beside me. And this…” He put his big, warm hand back over her belly, covering it almost completely. “This is the best part of us. It’s the product of how much we love each other. I can’t think of anything more perfect than a little person with your smile and, God help us, my inability to sit still.”
Hyeori felt tears return to her eyes, but this time they were different. “I’m scared, Sooho,” she confessed in a whisper. “I don’t know how to be a mother. I have to finish my degree. I have shifts, residency… what if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll be there,” he said, without a second of hesitation. “When you have shifts, I’ll stay up. When you have to study, I’ll carry him in a backpack while I clean the house. We’ll learn. We’ll make mistakes, sure. We’ll probably put the diaper on backwards sometime or accidentally feed him cat food…”
“Sooho!” she exclaimed, laughing through tears.
“Okay, maybe not that. But we’ll learn, my sun. Together. Always together. We’re going to raise a good person. Someone with a huge heart, as big and kind as yours. Someone brave.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a kiss salty from tears, but sweet, full of promise and a love so vast.
“I love you,” he told her against her lips. “I love you both. Both of you. And I’m going to protect you for the rest of my life. Even if I have to fight the whole world again. Nothing is going to touch you.”
Hyeori hugged him around the neck, burying her face in his shoulder once more, feeling the fear dissolve, replaced by the certainty that, whatever happened, she wasn’t alone. “I love you, my moon,” she whispered.
Sooho smiled, a radiant smile that reached his eyes, erasing any trace of the earlier panic. He pulled back slightly and let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair.
“We’re going to be parents,” he said, as if he had just understood the most incredible joke in the universe. “Parents. You and me.”
“We’re going to be parents,” she repeated, and the reality of the words settled over them, warm and exciting.
Sooho looked her up and down, a mischievous expression appearing on his face.
“You know… I was thinking…” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “I can’t wait to see you in those maternity dresses. You know, with the big tummy… I think you’re going to look incredibly sexy. A bossy, pregnant doctor. Oof, I think I’m going to fall in love all over again.”
Hyeori let out a loud laugh, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. “You just had a panic attack and you’re already thinking about that!”
“It’s my defense mechanism,” he defended himself, laughing, catching her in his arms again and falling back onto the rug, taking her with him so she ended up lying on his chest. “Besides, it’s true. You’re going to be the most beautiful mamma in the world.”
She rested her chin on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Promise me you’ll be there. For the ultrasounds. For the birth. When he cries at three in the morning.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised, tracing the outline of her face with a finger. “I won’t miss a second. I’m going to be so clingy you’ll get sick of me.”
They fell silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness. Choco, sensing the crisis had passed and the environment was safe again, approached cautiously and rubbed against Sooho’s head, purring.
“Traitor,” Sooho murmured to the cat, scratching him behind the ears. “You stayed with her and took all the credit for comforting her.”
“He didn’t run away for milk,” Hyeori teased.
“Low blow,” Sooho complained, but he was smiling. “Hey… how do you think Sieun will take it?”
Hyeori’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Sieun.”
Sooho let out a loud laugh. “I can already picture it. He’ll make that blank idiot face he has, blink twice, and then probably start planning my murder if I don’t take care of you properly.”
“He will definitely plan your murder.”
“But he’ll be a great uncle,” Sooho said tenderly. “He’ll teach him math. Or physics. Or both. And Juntae will teach him to be friendly. And Baku and Gotak… well, they’ll teach him not to do what they do.”
“It’s going to be a very loved baby,” Hyeori whispered.
“The most loved,” Sooho confirmed, kissing her forehead. “Now… can I ask you a favor?”
“What?”
“I’m really hungry. And the ice cream is melting on the table. And technically, the baby wants ice cream too, right?”
Hyeori laughed, feeling the weight in her chest completely gone. “Yes, the baby wants ice cream. And his dad does too.”
Sooho stood up and helped her to her feet with exaggerated care, as if she were made of glass.
“Come on, mommy. Let’s eat ice cream before it turns into soup.”
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