Divorce Contract C81

Chapter 81

With trembling hands, Igyeol stroked the baby’s impossibly tiny back—the little body barely filling his palm. When the baby’s brows twitched and his pouty little mouth pressed together before settling again, Igyeol finally breathed out.

“Ihyeon-ah.”

Even now, it didn’t feel real.
Even blinking felt risky—like if he closed his eyes for even a moment, the baby would disappear like smoke.
The warmth pressed to his chest was so vivid… yet the moment felt unreal, like a dream that could shatter at any second.

“Welcome.”

The fact that this child had once lived inside him—had grown from him—felt like a miracle.
He hadn’t carried him full-term.
He’d been weak at birth.
But thank god—thank god—he hadn’t given him up.

He stroked the baby’s back with a soft smile. But when the baby’s face scrunched up, his whole chest tightened.

Was he uncomfortable?
Was the chair too hard?
Was he hurting him somehow?

Aunt Eunsuk had been feeding him well, but the weight he’d lost wouldn’t come back quickly.
Every time he pumped milk, the scale either stayed the same or fell.
And maybe—maybe the baby didn’t know him.
He’d never spoken to him in the womb.
What if the baby didn’t recognize him?
What if he… didn’t like him?

He couldn’t bear that.

His anxiety spiked—and with it, his pheromones tightened and twisted around the room.
Immediately, the baby whimpered.

That tiny sound froze Igyeol completely.

“One moment,” a nurse said gently as she walked in.

She hurried toward them, smiling, patting the baby lightly.
But when she looked at Igyeol, she saw instantly—he was more distressed than the little one.

Barely ten minutes had passed.
Would he even last an hour?

“Are you alright, sir?”

“…I think he’s uncomfortable. Because of me…”

“To him, you’re the most comfortable person in the world. You’re his father. But it’s your first time doing this—it’s normal to feel awkward or heavy-hearted. You may continue or stop. There’s always tomorrow… and the day after. Don’t lose heart.”

“My pheromones… they’re wrong.”

His voice cracked.
The despair in it was unmistakable.

Wrapped in the gentle floral scent filling the room, the nurse smiled softly and settled the baby back on his chest.

“To your child, this scent is familiar.”

“……”

“You’d be surprised how much a baby knows their father. Don’t worry.”

She pulled the cloth back over the baby’s back, gave a tiny fist-pump of encouragement, and stepped out.

Left alone again, Igyeol gathered courage piece by piece.
The baby’s whimper faded into quiet breathing.
Igyeol forced his stiff hand to stroke his back again.

He whispered the name Ihyeon… Ihyeon… Ihyeon…
Each time, heat prickled behind his eyes.
Each little breath against his chest loosened something in him.
All his pride melted—leaving only guilt.

An hour passed too fast.

The nurse returned and lifted the sleeping child away.
As she placed him back in the incubator, she wrote the name in neat letters.

“At last, a name. Congratulations, little Ihyeon.”

She smiled fondly.
Flustered, Igyeol scratched the back of his hand and whispered:

“I… I gave it too late, didn’t I…?”

“Oh, nonsense. Many babies don’t have a name until right before discharge. Taking longer just means you chose with care. Ihyeon will understand.”

She patted his back, meaning only comfort—
and Igyeol flinched violently.

The color drained out of his face.

“My apologies—I didn’t think it would startle you.”

“N-no, I am sorry. I was… distracted, and it surprised me…”

He backed away, head lowered, practically retreating from the NICU.
Seeing him clutch Aunt Eunsuk’s arm outside, the nurse bowed and slipped away.

Dohyeon had seen it too—the hurried exit, the nurse’s guilt. He approached her immediately.

“What happened?”

“Nothing serious. I touched his back as I spoke, and he startled badly. He forgave me, but he seemed very shaken.”

Embarrassed, she rubbed her cheek.
Dohyeon nodded, turned to leave—then paused.

“Please… avoid unnecessary physical contact from now on.”

“Yes… of course.”

She bowed and withdrew.

Seeing the elevator take Igyeol and Eunsuk upward, Dohyeon took the stairs instead.
He knew the path too well now.

When he entered the room, he heard Eunsuk’s voice comforting him.

“No, of course no one would think that.”

“…But I startled so badly… what if she was offended…?”

“A little fright doesn’t offend anyone. Don’t dwell on it. Tomorrow, give a quick apology if you like. Anyone would flinch at an unexpected touch—it’s natural.”

“I… I’m scared of people touching me.”

At that soft confession, Eunsuk swallowed a sigh.
She was grateful he could at least bear her touch.

“…Truly?” she asked.

“It’s not exactly fear… I just can’t handle it unless the person is someone I’ve accepted. Even handshakes—I can’t manage them. People call me strange for it, but I can’t change it.”

Her honesty soothed him.
He nodded faintly—just in time to see Dohyeon standing at the door.

Eunsuk followed his gaze, her face instantly twisting with displeasure.

“You’ll wear the threshold thin with all your pacing.”

Her blunt hostility was honestly a relief—something normal in a day of emotional chaos.

Dohyeon didn’t react.

“I came to speak about discharge.”

“……”

“Go-ssi will be discharged first. Our… child needs to remain about five more weeks.”

At “our child,” Eunsuk’s expression soured even further.
Igyeol, meanwhile, didn’t react at all.

To him, Dohyeon’s heart changed too quickly to assign meaning to anything he said.

If he attached even a little to the child, maybe he wouldn’t send him away when the divorce came.
Or maybe he still would.

Coldness didn’t magically vanish with affection.

Lost in those thoughts, he barely registered Dohyeon’s steady voice continuing.

“Your visits to the child won’t change. Same time, same schedule. Only the return point changes—from hospital to home.”

“……”

“What do you think, Go-ssi?”

“…If I’m discharged… the child will be safe? No one will come for him…?”

Not the same paralyzing dread as before—
but still worry.
Still fear.

“No one but you can visit him. Not me, nor anyone else. Only you.”

The words landed on his ears without weight.
But this time, there was no reason to refuse discharge.
His hormones were stable.
His wounds were healing cleanly under Eunsuk’s care.
The voices still came, but not constantly.
He could breathe.

“…I’ll be discharged,” he said quietly.

“Very well.”

Eunsuk squeezed his trembling hands, rubbing comforting circles over them.

“But Aunt…”

He wanted to ask her to stay.
But what if she said no?
He wanted to beg her—please don’t leave me alone.
Please stay.
Please don’t go.

His lips trembled.
Her eyes softened, and as if she’d read his heart—

“If that’s what you want, I’ll stay with you for a while. I’ll cook for you, and I’ll go with you to see the baby. Would that help you?”