NLFSD Chapter 124

Chapter 124 – Call My Name IF Extra 8

The next morning, the two left for the hospital at the appointed time. All through the drive with Seo Taecheon at the wheel, Jiwoon in the passenger seat said little. Eyes reddened, he offered sparse explanations.

He said this was the clinic he’d been visiting steadily since the first pregnancy confirmation. As it turned out, it was the same hospital where Taecheon had been taken after losing consciousness in the accident. If so, it should have been familiar — yet curiously, nothing surfaced. He realized anew that every memory linked to Jiwoon was gone.

At the hospital, they went to reception. After checking in, Jiwoon came to Taecheon’s side and sat without a word. An awkward silence.

Soon Jiwoon’s number flashed on the screen. Guided by a nurse, they entered the exam room. Jiwoon went in first and opened the door; inside sat a doctor with a kind face.

“Welcome. Please have a seat.”

“Hello, Doctor,” Jiwoon said with polite formality.

“Our Alpha looks even more handsome since last time,” the doctor chirped; Taecheon merely dipped his head, unsure how to respond to a stranger.

“Mm… but Jiwoon, you look like you’ve lost weight. Your color isn’t good — has something happened?”

Jiwoon shook his head at the worried tone.

“No. Nothing in particular.”

He didn’t want to bring up the accident. Even less to say they were living like strangers.

“Just… carrying on as usual.”

The concern didn’t vanish from the doctor’s face. She paused mid‑typing and adjusted her glasses.

“Hm. It does look to me like something’s changed. In any case, today’s a routine check, so let’s start with the basics. Alpha, would you wait outside for a moment?”

She addressed Taecheon.

“Yes, of course.”

He welcomed being sent out. That Jiwoon looked wan and thinner was, objectively, due to the recent events. Before questions of guilt, it was simply a fact — and the sight stuck in his mind.

He waited about twenty minutes outside. Then a nurse opened the door and called him in.

“Guardian, please come in.”

Back in the exam room, the air was chilly. Jiwoon sat limp; the doctor’s face was grave as she addressed him, almost accusing.

“What’s going on, Alpha?”

“…”

“We ran Jiwoon’s labs. The Alpha pheromone level is very low. Have you two been apart recently?”

“No. We’re in the same house.”

That much was true, so he answered without hesitation.

“Then how do we get a result this low?”

Frowning at the sheet, she muttered, “Almost as if there’s no contact at all… odd.”

Neither Jiwoon nor Taecheon spoke. Not only no skinship — they were living as strangers — and it felt impossible to say it.

“At this rate, the fetus could be affected. During pregnancy you must keep pheromones balanced.”

She lifted her eyes from the page, looking between them.

“As I told you, you’re maintaining relations on a regular schedule, yes?”

Taecheon glanced at Jiwoon. He’d never heard this from him. Avoiding his gaze, Jiwoon managed, “We’re trying… it isn’t going well.”

The doctor clicked her tongue.

“At minimum, every two to three days there must be pheromone supply. Hugs and kisses aren’t enough. This isn’t like a Beta couple’s pregnancy.”

She fixed on Taecheon.

“Remember you’re a trait‑bearing pair. Without continued pheromone supply to the Omega, the baby will struggle to develop normally. Do you understand?”

She scolded. Jiwoon nodded meekly.

Only now did the situation cohere for him. Jiwoon hadn’t said, but a pregnant Omega needed regular joining with their Alpha — at least two or three times a week.

“I’ll see you next time, then. I’d like to see normal levels by then.”

With a sigh, she sent them out. After paying for the exam and Omega supplements at the cashier, he still couldn’t understand why, knowing the risk to the baby, Jiwoon hadn’t told him.

They said nothing until they reached the car. Buckling in, Taecheon broke the silence.

“According to the doctor, we need to have relations.”

Fastening his belt, Jiwoon flinched.

“Is that correct?”

He met Jiwoon’s eyes; Jiwoon answered in a small voice, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

After a pause, Jiwoon said, “Because… I thought even if I asked, you wouldn’t agree.”

His voice was wet.

“Haa…”

A headache pulsed. What is this supposed to be? Isn’t the point to protect the child — then why ignore pheromones?

Back home, they wordlessly retreated to separate rooms. Taecheon took time alone in the study.

He would not take a stranger to bed. That was against everything he believed. But in mere days, the body had grown gaunt, the color paled; cold sweat beaded that white brow on the drive home; breath was faint.

He forced himself to an objective view. First and most important: in Jiwoon’s belly grew their child. If they kept distance and refused sex, the baby could be harmed.

…Even if memory was missing, biologically it was his child. He could not harm an innocent life.

He reached a conclusion: not for the Omega, but for the child, he would have sex.

That night, he stood at Jiwoon’s door. No sound inside. Before knocking, he hesitated — then cleared the clutter of thought and rapped.

“Are you in there?”

A rustle, then a voice, tight and small: “Yes, Taecheon.”

“I’m coming in.”

He opened the door slowly.

Jiwoon lay on his side in thin clothes, arms around the slight swell as if to protect the child — and looked terrible. Even compared to morning, his face was darker, shadows stark under his eyes. He looked ready to collapse.

Taecheon spoke the words he’d weighed all evening.

“I’ll start with the conclusion. I acknowledge that I am the father of this child.”

Jiwoon didn’t even have the strength to sit up; he listened lying down.

“And it is an objective fact that you — that the child you’re carrying — need my pheromones. But I cannot be married.”

Jiwoon’s eyes widened. He could not process what he’d just heard. With a rigid expression, Taecheon continued.

“If we’re speaking of relations to stabilize pheromone levels, I will cooperate.”

He paused, then finished, meeting Jiwoon’s wavering eyes with clear diction:

“Until the child is born, I will supply pheromones. After that, we will proceed with divorce.”

Jiwoon’s mouth fell open; his eyes went wide with shock. He could not digest the unilateral pronouncement.

Divorce.

The word stabbed his chest, his head, his whole body. If words were weapons, then he lay mortally wounded, bleeding.

Had he heard right? Was it a delirium from being half‑dead?

He looked squarely at Taecheon. No flicker crossed his face. Then he had heard right.

Jiwoon let his raised head fall. Strangely, instead of tears, a hollow laugh escaped. After all the circling, they were back at the start again — absurd.

When a clerical error had registered their marriage, they had made a pact to divorce and thrown themselves into it with zeal. Then, as if swept by an inescapable accident, they had fallen in love.

The old clamor for divorce seemed to vanish as if it had never been; they lived happily — like the fairy‑tale ending, “and they lived happily ever after.”

But that wasn’t the end. Even now, the story moved on. This page was a twist: divorce from Seo Taecheon.

Tears spilled down Jiwoon’s cheeks. Laughter kept leaking from his lips.

“Ha… haha.”