TCBW C64

Chapter 64

“…Madam, it seems the Chairman will find it difficult to return home today….”

“It’s fine. And honestly, even if it weren’t fine, what could I do about it?”

Her last words were barely above a whisper—so soft Haeon almost missed them. But Haeon was far from oblivious; he could tell Suhoe was troubled by something deep inside.

Still, resolving that was not his role. And truthfully, if Suhoe were someone who would grow distant from Dowoon the moment he bore a child, then perhaps it was better to begin severing emotional ties slowly from here.

After all, the two of them had been far too close.

Dowoon worked late into the night, leaving the company only in the early hours of dawn.

He had been so consumed with work he had momentarily forgotten about Suhoe. Climbing into his car, he planned to drive himself to the luxury villa near the office, as he always did.

Outside, snow was falling—thick, heavy flakes.

He had never been the type to notice such things, yet seeing the white flurry drift down, he lowered the window instinctively. Only then did he realize it wasn’t snow—it was petals.

For a moment, he breathed in the drifting scent. The fragrance was not similar at all, yet someone came to mind.

So the weather had warmed enough that even at dawn the cold had eased.

It had been quite some time since he brought Suhoe here.

His brow tightened at the thought, displeasure flickering across his face. Then, abruptly, he turned the car around, deciding to seek out the one who had invaded his day so carelessly.

The car flew down the open road, arriving before the Baehwadong residence where everyone else slept.

The elevator hummed quietly as it rose, and he realized he had never come this late before.

Surely Suhoe was already asleep.

Yet when he stepped inside, he heard the sound of the TV. Turning, he saw Suhoe sleeping curled up on the sofa. Melted ice cream dripped from the container on the table, pooling onto the floor.

A pitiful, lonely birthday spread.

Without hesitation, Dowoon lifted him into his arms. Though spring had begun, the air was still cold. He intended to lay him in bed and leave the gifts behind. As he carried the slender body, a soft scent drifted from his hair—shampoo mixed with the floral scent he had breathed outdoors.

It tickled him, tempted him. It was familiar—so familiar he felt he might lose control.

But this was mild compared to before. Since Professor Eun had advised that staying near would stabilize pheromones, he had been quietly releasing his own around Suhoe, and just as she predicted, Suhoe’s pheromones had steadily settled day by day.

“Dowoon…?”

Just as he laid him down, Suhoe rubbed his eyes, waking.

“W-why are you here?”

The question stung unexpectedly, but Dowoon answered as though it were nothing.

“…It’s your birthday.”

“Oh… yes.”

Suhoe gestured weakly toward the pile of gifts beside the bed.

“Why didn’t you open any of them?”

“Oh, well… it felt wrong to accept them. They seemed far too expensive…”

“Then they’ll be thrown out.”

Suhoe blinked at him wide-eyed, then suddenly let out a tiny laugh.

“What is it?”

“Ah, Secretary Haeon said you’d say exactly that, and you really did.”

“…So you two talk about me when I’m not around?”

Suhoe shook his head quickly—almost as though speaking further would cause trouble.

“Then is there something else you wanted instead?”

Dowoon’s question froze him.

He always spoke as though he would give Suhoe anything, yet in the end, Suhoe always paid the price for those hopes.

Dowoon never explained why he hadn’t returned on the day they planned to go to the sea, and afterward he acted as though nothing had happened, as though Suhoe’s disappointment were trivial.

He was a man who could crush expectations without effort.

So Suhoe never asked.

He didn’t need to—Dowoon’s actions had long taught him his place on the list of priorities.

When Suhoe stayed silent for a long while, Dowoon assumed what he wanted wasn’t a gift. Perhaps another trip to the sea?

If he asked, Dowoon fully intended to explain why he hadn’t gone last time—and even take him soon.

But he didn’t offer first.

Still, Suhoe said nothing, his posture faintly hesitant instead.

Finally, Dowoon turned.

“It’s late. I’ll go.”

At that moment, the nurse’s words echoed in Suhoe’s mind. After a moment’s hesitation, he spoke.

“You must… be busy.”

“Yeah. And it seems you don’t want me here.”

“…It’s not that I don’t want it.”

“Then say it. What do you want?”

What did he want?

To not be treated like a talisman for misfortune?

No—that was ridiculous. Then at the very least—

“C-could you… wear a condom?”

“What?”

Dowoon’s brows furrowed.

“N-not every time, just… my body isn’t well right now, Professor Eun said… so…”

Even as he spoke, Suhoe looked miserable. Mustering courage from the nurse’s words, he had spoken—only to immediately regret it. His voice trembled, the request felt clumsy, and surely Dowoon wouldn’t receive it well.

But instead, something shifted in Dowoon.

It felt like yet another test of his patience. Slowly, he reached out, cupping Suhoe’s cheek.

“You mean that?”

The cold touch made Suhoe flinch instinctively.

Dowoon did not blink. Then, with his other arm, he seized Suhoe firmly by the waist.

“…You asked for it.”

Without warning, he lifted him again.

“D-Dowoon?”

“No time. Just getting you ready will take long enough.”

He was glad he hadn’t brought Haeon with him. If the secretary had been here, Suhoe would never have said such words, too distracted by his presence.

When Suhoe stretched and woke, the spot beside him was still warm—proof someone had been there moments ago. But the room was empty.

As he stepped out of bed, he caught the murmur of voices.

Dowoon’s was unmistakable, but the other voice—low, unfamiliar. Not a phone call; someone was here in person.

Curious, Suhoe crept downstairs quietly.

It sounded like they were speaking near the entrance, without coming inside. A man’s voice.

For a moment, he wondered if it was Mr. Kim—but no, this voice was lower.

Haeon? But Haeon wouldn’t be speaking at the doorway.

A strangely familiar voice. He tipped his head, unsure.

Impossible… he thought firmly, yet curiosity gnawed. If it was someone related to Dowoon’s work, he shouldn’t interrupt. But if it was who he thought—

He hid behind the wall near the entrance, listening.

“…Come another time.”

“There will be no next time. And why are you here—”

The more he listened, the clearer the voice became.

A voice that should never be here.

Then a word slipped out—one he never thought he’d hear again. His eyes stung instantly.

Before he knew it, he ran—past Dowoon, not sparing him even a glance.

Dowoon scowled at the sight of him rushing out, but the man standing opposite brightened instantly—as though seeing a long-lost loved one returned from the dead.

A towering man with broad shoulders and large, warm hands—

The guardian who raised Suhoe with unwavering devotion.

Unhyo.

His face lit with overwhelming joy, as though rewarded for every sorrow he had borne.

“Unhyo-nim!”

“Young master!”

They embraced like family reunited after decades apart. Their bodies pressed tight, refusing to separate, pouring years of longing and absence into that single moment.

Dowoon remembered the name Suhoe cried during the heat before—Unhyo.

He tried to think of him merely as the man who acted as caretaker at the wedding, but the sight before him stirred an unpleasant feeling he could not suppress.

Seeing them embrace like that made his skin crawl.

They were not blood-related.

Their closeness, their devotion—none of it mattered to him.

What stung even more was Unhyo’s attitude before Suhoe came down.