NLFSD Chapter 109

Chapter 109 – Extra Episode 9

Incurable Love

The power of love is mysterious. Today shines brighter than yesterday, and it makes a lover expect tomorrow even more than today.

Seo Taecheon still hadn’t quite adjusted to the fact that such a vast change had come to him past the age of thirty. Newlyweds so in love that they were blind with it — and among them, he was the one in charge of ridiculous doting. His daily routine went like this:

When he opened his eyes in the morning, a beloved being was curled up, gazing at him. Lee Jiwoon was in his late twenties, but he could have been believed twenty at a glance — a boyish softness. His eye‑tails drooped gently beneath long, airy lashes, his nose bridge smooth as porcelain, and his pale lips were small, lending a youthful impression.

Most of all, what made Jiwoon most beautiful was his gentle, clear expression — a look that stirred the long‑asleep compassion, tenderness, and sense of responsibility in Taecheon’s chest. When faced with that face, Seo Taecheon could only surrender.

Like that, ten minutes, then twenty — time slipped away simply watching his Omega sleep.

These days, Jiwoon’s wake time had no pattern. When the morning sun pierced the blackout curtains and tickled at his eyelids, then he’d open his eyes.

“…Mmm…”

He would give a small, childish grumble and turn over. With his belly so round, he couldn’t sleep on his stomach; he slept on his side — and by instinct or habit, he wormed his way into Taecheon’s arms.

Holding Jiwoon carefully, Seo Taecheon thought in quiet wonder:

It was worth staying alive.

The citrus‑bright scent of his Omega drifting up like fragrance, the faint bands of light beyond the window — a day that began with nothing to fear and nothing to worry felt like a gift.

But life is not so indulgent. Seo Taecheon was not in a position to lie in bed twenty‑four hours and simply hold Jiwoon.

He had assets so vast that even spending hundreds of millions a day, he could not exhaust them before death — enough to pass on to descendants. Yet he also had a company he was responsible for. He had no particle of desire to hand management to others and lie back in ease.

Once upon a time he had loved painting; now he loved work. As his responsibilities grew, so did his ambition: he wanted to expand the business. Hence his longtime declaration: “I’m married to my work. I will not marry a person in reality.”

But then, before he even knew it, he met his fate, married, and even got his spouse pregnant. A dilemma was inevitable. It was impossible to seize work and love at once with two fists.

At least, if he left in the morning and returned at night to see his rabbit‑like Jiwoon, wasn’t that enough? So he thought — until one day.

An urgent business trip arose. Eight days and seven nights in France: meet local buyers, scout hotels in nearby tourist cities, and conclude mutual agreements. It was a project that could generate tremendous profits for the company.

All through the first half of the year, he had devoted himself to making it happen.

He wasn’t the type to ride subordinates; he made calls himself, at times pushing hard, at others yielding strategically. This was the fruit of long tug‑of‑war and shrewd maneuvering.

But the schedule arrived more abruptly than expected, and the length was long.

I need to leave for France next week?

Receiving the itinerary from his secretary, his vision dimmed. Would it be okay to leave home for a whole week? The thought of leaving Jiwoon and Mango in Korea while he flew to France weighed on him. It wasn’t mere regret — a nameless anxiety rose, his heart thudded, and for a moment, breath from his throat caught.

What if while he was gone, Jiwoon’s health faltered? What if Mango’s exam result turned for the worse? Even if he rushed back from France, it would take nearly a day — in effect, he’d be leaving Jiwoon alone. His temples pounded.

That night at home, he spoke with a heavy face.

“Jiwoon, I have to go to France next week. Seven nights, eight days.”

“So suddenly?”

“It came together fast.”

“Must be important.”

“Yes. Long‑prepared meetings — the clients are there, and I need on‑site inspection to gather data.”

“I see. Travel safely.”

Jiwoon answered lightly, as if it didn’t bother him much.

“But — isn’t Mango’s routine check next week? You’d have to go alone. Is that okay?”

When he asked in a voice full of concern, Jiwoon shook his head.

“It’s fine. I can go by myself.”

“I’ll arrange a car. I’ll have Driver Kim accompany you.”

“Oh, no. I can go alone.”

“I’m worried, that’s all.”

“The subway will get me there quickly.”

When Jiwoon smiled, Taecheon’s face set even more.

“The subway means stairs up and down — isn’t that dangerous? And there’s a long walk from the station to the hospital.”

“That’s true… but it’s actually faster than driving from here. The traffic is awful between here and there.”

“…I’m sorry I can’t take you myself.”

He spoke, wilted as a fading leaf.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s work. But… I think I’ll miss you.”

Jiwoon laid his face against his chest.

“We haven’t been apart for long before.”

“Jiwoon…”

A painful tenderness cramped his chest. It was true. Since beginning their “mistake marriage,” they had not once been apart for more than a day.

Working at the same company, they couldn’t help but see each other; at home, they shared the same room. Working hours, sleeping hours, commuting hours — all together.

Not only that — if they had any free time, the Reflection Center summoned them for lectures and sent them camping. So the prospect of one leaving home felt starkly strange. A week — for lovers, an eternity.

…A week. Long indeed.

Jiwoon felt the emptiness, too. But if he wavered and teared up, it would only make Taecheon feel heavier; it would not improve reality. So he chose to smile and send him off.

By contrast, Seo Taecheon was not so stoic. He was worry incarnate. Amid preparing for the trip with executives and field staff, he made arrangements so Jiwoon could live well alone.

The housekeeper who usually looked after the home visited two or three times a week — making simple side dishes, doing laundry, cleaning, and dishes. That alone kept the house in excellent order, but Taecheon wanted her for the entire week.

He worried that Jiwoon might try to cook for himself — which would create dishes — and he didn’t want to require even the smallest chore.

After a fervent request sweetened with a generous bonus, he secured seven consecutive days.

Next, he contacted Madam Choi.

Mother, I’m going abroad next week on business. Jiwoon will be home alone.

I see. Shall I stop by and cook?

No. Please neither visit nor contact him. The secretariat will handle all care. I’m only letting you know in case family is needed.

What are you telling me to do — neither visit, nor call, just “know”?

Yes. I’ve read that in‑laws calling often isn’t good for prenatal care.

At that nonsense, Madam Choi fired back in a volley.

Do you not remember when Jiwoon was pregnant with Mango and ran away — that he came to my house? He adores me! And you’re telling me not to call him?

Madam Choi was clearly angry — but Seo Taecheon was a fool blinded by love.

As he carefully prepared meeting materials and stuffed the fridge with snacks and fruit for Jiwoon, the departure date arrived.

“Jiwoon, I’m leaving. If anything happens, you must call immediately.”

“Yes.”

“If I don’t answer, call Secretary Park — or anyone at the company. They’ll help. If you don’t trust that, call Mother or Father. They’ll come right away.”

“There won’t be any trouble. I’ll get along just fine.”

“Alright. I really should go now.”

“Yes, Taecheon. Travel safely.”

He hugged Jiwoon lightly and let go. Jiwoon waved a hand against his back. Moments later, Taecheon turned, rushed back.

“Jiwoon. I will miss you terribly.”

He cupped Jiwoon’s face and kissed his cheek.

“I know. Me too.”

“Then I’m really going.”

With eyes dripping afterglow and regret, he moved toward the car — then turned again.

“…Director, that’s the tenth time. Perhaps it’s enough,” said Driver Kim, stationed by the car, with brave candor.

“Ah, my apologies, Driver Kim.”

He apologized again and again. With a near‑tearful face, he finally climbed in. Jiwoon waved until the car vanished from sight.

Strange. It’s not a permanent goodbye — but it feels like there’s a hole in my chest…

Barely minutes since parting, Jiwoon already missed Seo Taecheon.