Divorce Contract C94

Chapter 94

Seo Dohyeon waved his hand, signaling for Yoon Jaeseon to leave. Perceptive as ever, Jaeseon slipped quietly out of the Executive Director’s office. Once the door closed and he was alone, Dohyeon set down the documents he had been holding and rose from his seat. Leaning against the window, he frowned at the sky, gray and overcast all day long.

He must have gone to the hospital again today. Hopefully, he had dressed warmly. With Shin Eunsuk by his side, it was a needless worry, yet Dohyeon could not help it—thinking of Go Igyeol came as naturally as breathing. The weather was cold; what if he caught a chill? With his health so frail, even a common cold would be too much for him.

“Go Igyeol.”

The time was drawing short. Once Go Daesik was dealt with, Dohyeon intended to leave that house for good. He did not want to appear before Go Igyeol and unsettle his heart further. His plan to remain until the child was discharged had collapsed easily enough; now his only thought was to vanish from sight as soon as possible.

Only then, perhaps, would Go Igyeol finally be able to breathe.

Unaware of what Dohyeon had planned, or that Go Daesik had once again sought him out in a frenzy of gambling, Go Igyeol finished his kangaroo care with the baby and left the hospital. His voice, unusually bright that day, carried excitement as he told Shin Eunsuk how much the child had grown. With shy pride, he confessed that he had filmed a short video.

“Truly? You recorded a video?”

“Yes, they said I could. Auntie… would you like to see it?”

His cautious voice brimmed with anticipation.

“Is that even a question? Of course I want to see! How much must the baby have grown? Let’s slip in somewhere nearby and watch it, hm? After all those photos, finally a video!”

“Then… shall we have some warm tea at a café?”

For Go Igyeol, who had never once suggested stopping anywhere, the timid proposal carried weight. Without wasting a moment, Eunsuk led him toward a small café near the hospital. The bell over the door chimed sweetly as they entered. She seated him at a sunny window table and ordered two cups of herbal tea.

“Herbal tea is fine, yes?”

“Yes, anything is fine.”

“Now, let’s see, hm? Let me see little Ihyeon moving.”

Her eager words brought color to Go Igyeol’s cheeks as he offered her his phone. On the dim screen, Seo Ihyeon slowly blinked his long eyes and pursed his tiny lips. Though she had seen countless photos, watching the child move in video felt like a marvel.

“Oh my, oh goodness…!”

The baby, more filled out than when she had first laid eyes on him at the hospital, moved his eyes, yawned, and though unseen, Go Igyeol’s voice softly calling his name was captured. The trembling tones carried nothing but tenderness.

“He feels heavier than the first time I held him.”

“That means he’s growing well, isn’t it?”

“I worried because he was born so small, but it seems he’s growing well. He really was so, so tiny.”

For the first time in a long while, his voice was clear of gloom. Eunsuk looked at him with fond pride, patting the back of his hand.

“And he’s growing more beautiful by the day. Look at those sharp eyes, those big pupils. Ah, and the way his lips purse—why, his mouth looks just like yours.”

While she was absorbed in the video, the buzzer vibrated. When she tried to rise, Go Igyeol stopped her, insisting on fetching their drinks himself. Returning with the tray, he found her still entranced with Ihyeon’s image.

“Look at that proud little nose. He’ll be discharged any day now.”

“Yes, I think so too. Dohyeon said it would take about five weeks, but today the center told me Ihyeon is growing so quickly he might leave two weeks earlier. They said it’s because his traits are… dominant.”

He murmured what the nurse had explained that day. Seo Ihyeon was an alpha, dominant. Had he been recessive like himself, perhaps he would never have survived to be held.

“Dominant?”

“Yes. Isn’t that fortunate? Dohyeon is dominant, so it seems the baby inherited it.”

No matter what traits the child bore, he would have loved him unconditionally. But had he not been dominant, perhaps he might not have survived at all. It was only because he was strong that he endured from the womb, and thrived even after his premature birth in the incubator. For that, he thought, he ought to be grateful—Dohyeon had passed down excellent traits. In truth, he owed him thanks for his kindness.

“Am I… strange for thinking this?”

“Hmm?”

“I wondered if Auntie ever finds it hard to forget feelings of resentment. Do other people… manage to forget what they hated, live on as if nothing happened? Do they forgive, laugh again… live like that? Or am I the only one who finds it so hard?”

“Of course not. How could resentment be so easily forgotten? Over time it may fade, but on certain days it will return, sharp and clear, and make you grieve anew. You may demand answers from the one who hurt you, and sometimes only their apology lessens the weight.”

With fingers interlaced, Go Igyeol’s anxious gaze wavered. At her words, he sighed deeply, tilting his head as though he did not quite understand the part about apologies, blinking his wide eyes. For all that he did not appear outwardly gentle, his nature was unfailingly mild.

“How do you even ask why? What if the answer is just, ‘Because I hated you’?”

“Better to know and ache than to suffer blindly, don’t you think? That’s how I see it.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know what it is I want.”

“Auntie dislikes seeing you torment yourself like this. I can’t fathom why you must suffer so over… such a man.”

Quietly, Go Igyeol lowered his eyes to her hand clasping his, listening intently. Around them, the café swelled with the soft strains of some familiar classical piece whose name he did not know, the fragrance of coffee mingling with her gentle voice. Not once did she reproach him. Her words cursed only the other, and at that, his lips curved faintly.

“Still, I think you should talk with him. He must know how much you suffered. That way, you may unburden yourself, and he will feel the full weight of remorse.”

Though she did not know the details of what had passed between them, Eunsuk was certain Go Igyeol bore no fault. It was Dohyeon who had created such a situation, and the blame lay wholly with him.

“You are not at fault.”

“…I… liked him.”

“Then all the more—it is his fault alone.”

“He probably never even knew my feelings. Even so, would it still be his fault?”

Tears brimmed in his clear eyes. He seemed to believe that deciding on his own to have the child was itself a fault—that hiding the pregnancy from Dohyeon, who had not wanted it, was also wrong.

“Do you know the proverb, ‘The arm bends inward’?”

“……”

“Even if you had treated him as cruelly as he treated you, I would still say you were right.”

It was all his fault—every bit of it. Drawing his thin shoulders into her arms, Eunsuk stroked his back.

“Enough self-reproach. Let’s go buy a baby’s first undershirt. Ihyeon will be discharged soon.”

“…Yes.”

Go Igyeol pressed his damp eyes into her shoulder. She glanced down at the darkened stain on her clothes, then let out a laugh. His cheeks and nose flushed red, yet with a smile on his lips, he looked lighter, freer.

Hand in hand, they left the café and stopped at a baby shop nearby. There, Go Igyeol bought a tiny striped undershirt in white and pale green, with a small rabbit embroidered on the chest. Eunsuk, browsing beside him, picked out a set of hat, mittens, and booties—so small they barely fit in her fist—saying they would be essential now that the weather was turning cold.

“Babies are sensitive to temperature. Even the slightest chill makes them hiccup. When Ihyeon is discharged, you’ll head straight there, so everything must be prepared. It’s cold at the foot of the mountain.”

“What? Ihyeon… will be going somewhere?”

“Oh? Ah—”

At his startled question, she realized her mistake. It seemed Dohyeon had not yet told him. With a forced smile, she brushed it off. Giddy from buying the baby’s undershirt, Go Igyeol let the matter slip, thinking she had only misspoken. He did not press the subject further.

Leaving the shop, shopping bag in hand, Go Igyeol’s face was radiant. Eunsuk’s eyes grew moist—how long had it been since she had seen him smile so? From the moment he had come to her, pregnant and pitiful, she had pitied him. And now, knowing what he had endured, her heart ached constantly. She had once believed no life could be more unfortunate than her own, but she was wrong.

As he turned, hugging the little bag to his chest and smiling back at her, she could not hold back her tears.

“…Auntie?”

“I do not know why you move me so, Igyeol.”