Divorce Contract C114

Chapter 114

As though he sensed the call about to end, Go Igyeol clung desperately. Seo Dohyeon answered calmly, assuring him he understood, and asked what the baby’s last recorded temperature had been. He confirmed whether Igyeol had given him any fever reducer, then told him to grab an outer coat. Tearfully, Igyeol stammered, “What?”—just as the sound of knocking came at the door.

— Open up.

Wide, frightened eyes spilled tears that streaked across his cheeks. How Dohyeon had arrived so quickly was beyond comprehension; there was no time even to wonder. Hugging the baby close, Igyeol rushed to the door. The lock clicked, and at once the door opened. Seo Dohyeon, eyes sweeping quickly over his attire, held out his arms.

“Give me the baby. Put on your coat.”

Though it must have been his first time holding the child, Seo Dohyeon carried Seo Ihyeon as if he were long accustomed to it. Flustered, Igyeol darted back inside, pulling on a thin padded jacket before returning. Restless, he reached for the child again, and Dohyeon returned him to Igyeol, then stepped inside to fetch a blanket to wrap the infant.

The car carrying Igyeol and Seo Ihyeon sped away from the pension. Igyeol, voice trembling, pressed his hand again and again to his son’s neck and forehead, feeling the fever rise, his tears falling as the child began crying hoarsely again. The thirty-minute drive to the hospital stretched into an eternity. Only with constant soothing did they finally arrive at the university hospital emergency room.

Leaping from the driver’s seat, Dohyeon opened the rear door. Igyeol, pale to the point of bluishness, clutched the baby tightly as he stepped out. They rushed into the ER, where Igyeol gave the desk staff the child’s information and presented the infant to a nurse.

“Guardian, please complete the registration. We’ll lay the baby down here.”

Placing Seo Ihyeon on a bed that seemed far too large for him, Dohyeon drew Igyeol closer. When told to wait, Igyeol, on edge, clutched Dohyeon’s sleeve. His unsteady gaze clung to him. Dohyeon shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Igyeol’s shoulders before checking on the whimpering infant.

“I’ll register him, just wait a moment. I’ll be right back.”

He wiped Igyeol’s tear-wet cheek before hurrying away. Registration completed, and a call placed to Yoon Jaeseon, Dohyeon swiftly returned to the ER. A pediatrician, summoned on an emergency call, examined the baby and diagnosed a fever brought on by a cold.

“His lungs sound fine, and the fever’s already beginning to drop, so hospitalization isn’t necessary. Your first child?”

“…Yes. My first.”

“Most parents come running with their first, even if the fever rises just a single degree. You must have been quite scared too, Father. Don’t worry. Give him the fever reducer. If it doesn’t drop, then bring him back.”

As the doctor reassured Igyeol, Dohyeon interjected.

“No further tests are necessary?”

Glancing at the almost-crying infant, the doctor shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. The sudden cold weather is spreading colds everywhere. Ihyeon’s throat is swollen, but his ears are clear, no runny nose, and the fever stems only from the throat inflammation. With fever reducers, it will come down quickly. I’ll prescribe some cold medicine. If he improves, you needn’t return. But if not, come back to pediatrics.”

Lightly brushing the flushed cheek, the doctor smiled and left with a parting farewell.

The moment the curtain closed, Igyeol’s knees gave way and he collapsed. Fear washed over him. Alone, with the baby’s fever rising—he had been terrified. The child, born frail, might have suffered something grave.

“Igyeol.”

“…I was so scared. No one was there. But Ihyeon’s fever kept climbing. I read online to wipe him with a lukewarm cloth, but when I did he shivered from the cold. I had no one to call—no one. I panicked, didn’t know where to turn, and I thought of you. But how… how did you come so fast?”

“I happened to have business nearby. That’s why I could come quickly.”

Suspicion flickered in Igyeol’s tear-filled eyes, but soon faded. It didn’t matter. Without him, they might not have reached the hospital in time. Instead of a simple prescription, Seo Ihyeon could have been hospitalized.

Dohyeon pulled him upright and settled him at the edge of the bed, wiping the wet face and stroking his back as he sobbed into his chest. He swallowed the words that would have asked why he had been alone, and instead breathed in the warmth of his body and the faint pheromones that spilled with it, closing his eyes.

“You did well.”

Only because the others had left was Igyeol forced to call him. If Shin Eunsuk or the babysitter had been there, Igyeol never would have reached out. Realizing this, the anger that had driven him there melted away like snow, leaving only gratitude.

“You must have been terrified. Thank you… for calling me.”

“……”

“If you’re still uneasy, we can return to Seoul right now.”

“…We’ll watch him at home first. If it doesn’t improve, then… then we’ll go.”

Dohyeon agreed, soothing the tremors that lingered in Igyeol’s body as he stroked his back.

In his arms, in that familiar warmth, Igyeol steadied himself. Startled, he realized he had unconsciously sought out Dohyeon’s pheromones for reassurance. He had thought he was forgetting, but he hadn’t—not at all.

Even after they returned home, Dohyeon did not leave immediately. Knowing his presence in the same space unsettled Igyeol, he stayed outside most of the time. Sitting on a bench by the pension, he waited until Yoon Jaeseon arrived, carrying a white shopping bag.

“Apologies for the delay. Snow began falling unexpectedly, the roads were clogged. Here—this is from the place you mentioned, but it may be cold by now.”

Peeking into the bag, Dohyeon nodded faintly and turned away. As he walked off, Jaeseon called softly after him.

“Director? Are you going in? But… is no one else there?”

“No.”

“And the baby?”

“His fever seems down, but I can’t be sure. Stay close by in case. Babies often spike fevers at night—we may need to rush him to the hospital again.”

Quietly, Dohyeon climbed the stairs and knocked gently at the door. A moment later it opened. From a distance, Jaeseon couldn’t hear clearly, but snippets suggested Dohyeon was urging Igyeol to eat. The way he clutched the door, his posture taut with urgency, betrayed his desperation. Finally, when he warned that leaving the door open would let in the cold, Igyeol relented and admitted him.

Watching from below, Jaeseon let out an unconscious “ah.” Considering their history, this seemed—perhaps—a positive turn.

Inside, Dohyeon set out the food. Soup, rice, braised short ribs. He transferred them into glass bowls and reheated them, arranging the side dishes, which were fine to eat cold.

Leading Igyeol to the table, he urged him to sit.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat anyway. You’ve hardly had anything all day.”

“……”

“They say it’s snowing. Wherever the others went, I doubt they’ll be back soon. You need to eat to have the strength to care for Ihyeon.”

Placing a spoon into his hand, Dohyeon spoke gently. Though he longed to sit across from him, watching him eat, he knew it would make Igyeol uncomfortable, perhaps nauseous. So he quietly stepped aside, taking instead the seat where Igyeol had just been, and watched over the baby.

Seo Ihyeon, fed formula, fever reducer, and medicine, slept peacefully, his small face at ease. Dohyeon realized this was the first time he had truly looked at the child—aside from glimpses through NICU glass and the nursery window.

The baby was healthier now, fuller, compared to before. His plump cheeks glowed rosy. Even with his eyes closed, his delicate features so closely resembled Igyeol’s.

The sound of his soft breathing pierced Dohyeon’s chest with pain. He remembered, with terrible clarity, what he had done while this child was still within Igyeol’s womb.

With a quiet sigh, he tore his gaze away. Simply looking felt like a crime.