Divorce Contract C131

Chapter 131

Seo Dohyeon was taking out a porcelain bowl to transfer the porridge he had bought. His back was tense, betraying a quiet irritation — perhaps because the porridge had gone lukewarm on the way back. He touched the disposable container as if disappointed by the temperature, unaware that it was natural for food to cool when it wasn’t kept in a thermos.

Then, with a slight frown, he pulled out his phone and began typing.

Go Igyeol assumed he must be messaging Secretary Yoon.

“Um,” Igyeol began softly.

Startled, Dohyeon flinched — and his phone slipped from his hand, clattering against the floor.

The screen faced upward.

Igyeol’s eyes fell to it, worried it might have cracked. But the display was still bright, showing an open search engine — and in the search bar, the words “how to reheat cooled porridge.”

He shouldn’t have laughed. But a stifled pfft escaped him anyway.

“I—”

His shoulders trembled faintly, lips pressed against Seo I-hyeon’s tiny shoulder as his eyes darted away, pretending not to. The sight — awkward and endearing all at once — reminded Dohyeon so vividly of how the baby smiled at him earlier that his chest tightened.

How could two people resemble each other so much, he thought, both in their gentleness and in the way they made him ache with affection.

He had only just discovered this feeling — the quiet joy of loving someone without defense — and the thought that he might lose it forever drained the warmth from his face.

“Are you upset because I laughed?” Igyeol asked timidly.

“No. It’s not that.”

Upset? Far from it.

If anything, he was aching because he couldn’t look at that smile long enough. But Igyeol, seeing his frozen expression, seemed to take it as anger, growing flustered.

The corners of Dohyeon’s mouth softened before he spoke again, voice low.

“I was thinking… how lovely you looked.”

“…Sorry?”

“When I-hyeon touched my face earlier and laughed — he looked so lovely. And then you… when you smiled and hid your face against his shoulder, that was just as lovely.”

He paused, his voice roughening slightly.

“And then I thought — how many more times will I get to see something like this? That thought made me feel heavy. Not angry, just… angry at myself, maybe. Angry that I was the one who let all this slip away.”

His lips curved faintly, eyes softening as he looked at the baby who was staring back at him.

“I’ve been such a fool.”

Igyeol swallowed hard. His breath caught as his gaze dropped to the phone still lying on the floor. He stumbled for words, desperate to steer the conversation away.

“I-I think… it might be better to bathe I-hyeon first. Once he’s fed, he’ll probably fall asleep.”

“All right. Tell me what I need to prepare.”

“The baby’s bathwater. It should be warm — we can fill the tub so he can splash a little. The inflatable ring and everything else are already there.”

Dohyeon bent to pick up his phone, then stepped closer. Igyeol turned away, pretending not to notice the weight of that steady gaze. Heat bloomed along the back of his neck as he hurried from the room.

Dohyeon followed, suppressing the urge to reach out, torn between the old guilt and the ever-growing longing that refused to die no matter how he tried to bury it.

He filled the baby’s tub, then began running water into the larger bath. Meanwhile, Igyeol carefully undressed Seo I-hyeon, speaking quietly.

“I’ve never bathed him by myself before.”

“I’ve never bathed a baby at all,” Dohyeon replied with a small smile. “So you’ll have to teach me.”

The sound of his warm voice echoed softly against the tiled walls.

Igyeol glanced at him — at the man tenderly tapping the baby’s cheek — and nodded.

“…All right.”

He dipped his hand into the water, testing the temperature, then gently lifted I-hyeon into his arms. The baby looked up at him and grinned, cooing as bubbles of sound filled the damp air.

With trembling fingers, Igyeol wet the baby’s hair and lathered it with a touch of soap. White foam bloomed between his hands. He rinsed it carefully with a soft cloth and patted the tiny head dry with another towel.

Beside him, Dohyeon fidgeted helplessly — wanting to help, but unsure how.

It reminded Igyeol of his first time, of how lost he had been too, and he met Dohyeon’s eyes briefly to reassure him that everything was fine.

“I’ll put him in the tub now.”

“All right.”

For some reason, Dohyeon’s expression turned solemn, as though preparing for a battle.

Igyeol’s own throat tightened in response.

Slowly, he lowered I-hyeon’s little legs into the water. The baby’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening in a round “o,” but soon he began patting the surface, delighted by the warmth. Water splashed everywhere.

Smiling, Igyeol rubbed a soft bath sponge against soap until bubbles formed, then began washing him gently — unfolding the folds of chubby skin and cleaning each crease.

The baby who had once been so fragile, hooked to machines in the NICU, now wriggled with healthy joy. The memories of pain and fear — before, during, and after his birth — all seemed to dissolve with every giggle.

Every time I-hyeon laughed, showing his pink gums, something fluttered warmly in Igyeol’s chest.

“Like this,” he murmured. “You can try, if you want. Just be gentle.”

“…I might hurt him.”

“You won’t. Just… softly, like this.”

Their hands brushed as he offered the sponge. Dohyeon hesitated, eyes flicking between the baby and Igyeol, then took it carefully.

The faint, sweet scent — the same one that always lingered on I-hyeon — rose from the soap.

Dohyeon rubbed the baby’s hand lightly, almost reverently.

“I-hyeon really likes water,” Igyeol said with a small smile. “He’s always calm during baths.”

“I was worried he’d cry,” Dohyeon admitted.

“I was too… but he’s doing well. I’m relieved.”

“Was it all right today? Taking care of him together?”

At that, Igyeol’s hand paused where he’d been playing with a floating rubber duck.

“…Yes. Better than I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I thought I’d have to keep helping you the whole time. Since I’ve spent more time with I-hyeon. But he… he really liked you. It surprised me.”

He said it quietly, eyes gentle, as he watched the baby reach for the toy again.

“You did well today,” he added.

“So did you,” Dohyeon replied softly.

Their voices blended with the sound of water and I-hyeon’s cheerful splashing.

When Dohyeon handed him back the sponge, their fingers brushed again — a fleeting, fragile touch.

At Igyeol’s nod, Dohyeon lifted the baby from the water. The cool air made the child shiver and kick, letting out a tiny whimper. Quickly, Igyeol dried his round belly, his legs, his back. Once the baby was back in the tub, laughter returned, bubbles dancing over the water.

After rinsing him, Dohyeon fastened the inflatable neck ring. I-hyeon floated easily, eyes round, watching Igyeol’s face before bursting into another grin — as if he already knew what came next.

Smiling faintly, Dohyeon lifted him into the large bath.

The baby instinctively began to move his legs, tiny splashes scattering across the surface. His plump face peeked over the ring, bright and alive.

Dohyeon couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He didn’t notice the look on his own face — how tender his gaze had become.

Watching him, something in Igyeol’s chest both melted and ached at once.

“How long should he—” Dohyeon began, then stopped.

Because tears were quietly sliding down Igyeol’s cheeks.

He dried his wet hands on a towel and immediately cupped Igyeol’s face. His thumb brushed over the trails of water — or was it tears?

“Go Igyeol-ssi.”

“…After giving birth, emotions… they fluctuate a lot.”

“I know. But right now—”

The warmth of his tears seeped between Dohyeon’s fingers. Igyeol’s fine lashes trembled, eyes closing.

“You’re crying because of me.”

Every time Igyeol cried, Dohyeon’s world seemed to stop.

Behind them, the baby floated in small circles, babbling happily, splashing water that glittered under the light.

“Did I do something again?” Dohyeon whispered. “Did I upset you? Was it something I did that hurt you again?”

He ran a hand over Igyeol’s back, tracing the small tremors until they quieted.

When the last shudder eased, Igyeol lifted his head — eyes red, nose flushed — and stretched out a hand toward the baby.

“I-hyeon might catch a cold.”

“Igyeol…”

“Sometimes… no, often,” he murmured, voice barely audible, “I wonder if you ever get tired of me — of how I keep getting trapped in the past and can’t move forward. It’s strange, isn’t it? We’re going to separate anyway. Even if I stay in the past, you won’t know it. Only I’ll be the one hurting.”

He drew in a trembling breath.

“But still… it scares me.”