NLFSD Chapter 118

Chapter 118 – Call My Name IF Extra 2

On the other end of the phone, there was silence for a moment. Only a hubbub in the background — people murmuring — came through. The sound was familiar.

Where had he heard that lately? He was just thinking as far as that when the other party finally spoke.

— I’m sorry. I’m a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh, no… It’s alright. By the way, Secretary Park, what is it?”

After a brief hesitation, Park spoke in a lowered voice.

— The Director has been in an accident.

“…What? What do you mean?”

The news was so shocking he felt his legs give. The Director — Taecheon — had been in an accident? His hands trembled.

— Yes. He’s at the hospital. Because he was transported on an emergency basis, I’m late in contacting you. I’m sorry.

According to Park, a drunk driver had rammed into the car carrying Seo Taecheon and Driver Kim. Could such a thing happen on a midday road? Jiwoon couldn’t believe it.

“How badly is he hurt? Please — tell me how he is.”

He asked, heart in tatters. But Park would not say — only repeated that he should come and check in person.

— Please come; I’ll explain his condition directly.

From Park’s tone, Jiwoon sensed a bad omen. Not being able to describe the situation over the phone meant it was not minor. If it were, Taecheon would have called himself to reassure him — or, not wishing to worry him, would have said nothing until he came home and then explained it calmly. That was the kind of person he was.

But the fact that Secretary Park was calling Jiwoon directly meant that, in any reading, his condition was critical — at least, not well enough to speak himself.

“Where is it? I’m coming now.”

— We’ll send a car.

“No, I’ll come on my own.”

In an urgent situation, he couldn’t wait for a car. He said he would take a taxi and hung up.

The hand gripping the phone shook. His head went blank; his vision went white. He couldn’t think. Only the thought that he had to get to where Seo Taecheon was — now — filled him.

Just five minutes earlier, he had been in another world — one filled with green and glittering happiness, like a garden bathed in sweet morning light. Step out and the breeze of a fresh season welcomed him.

And one more thing he loved — Seo Taecheon. Jiwoon would gather Taecheon’s clothes into a nest and fall asleep, breathing in the soft Alpha pheromones. He could rest as long as he liked and drink in his lover’s scent. Sometimes, waking, he’d find that Taecheon had come home early and was sitting at his bedside.

Careful not to wake him, he would stroke Jiwoon’s hair, shush him back to sleep. Then Jiwoon would smile like a man dreaming a happy dream. It had been the laziest, warmest world.

That Jiwoon no longer existed.

Just now, he’d been smiling, stroking his slightly rounded belly; in a flash, he fell into a chasm of shock.

Out to the main road, he frantically waved for a taxi — but it was an awkward hour; none came quickly. His heart pounded wildly. Please, quickly — why aren’t there any taxis?

It had been so long since he’d tasted this kind of panic that the moment felt unreal. Lately, the only thing he’d yearned for was Mango. Only a few months more and he’d meet Mango; every day he wished time would move faster.

How joyful it would be — the symbol of their love born into the world. Just imagining it made him happy. As kind as he was to Jiwoon, he’d be gentle with the child — and they would be a happy family. How lovely it would be, the first time the baby called for his dads.

It had been only ten minutes since such sweet dreams.

Sweat slicked his palm; the phone slipped. It hit the ground with a crack, the corner shattering. The sound snapped him back.

No time to be dazed. He clutched one hand with the other. The trembling wouldn’t stop, but he had to focus — and hurry — to where Seo Taecheon was.

Before they truly began married life, there had been a time when, due to a bureaucratic mistake, they’d had to live a sham newlywed life. He remembered — once then, too, there had been a sudden accident, and he had rushed to the hospital. He recalled bolting from the office at the news, sprinting to find him.

Maybe instinctively, he had admitted then that he loved him — the image flashed of himself racing full‑tilt, terrified that something might have happened. Back then, as now, taxis wouldn’t come.

The difference now was that the fear was a hundred times worse. He truly loved Seo Taecheon now; he thought all that remained was building a happy home with Mango, soon to be born. He had been savoring the very word happiness — and in an instant, the life he curled up within, sheltered by “Seo Taecheon,” was in danger.

“Hoo…”

He deliberately exhaled, then inhaled, trying to steady himself. His heart hammered on, but he forced calm. It felt like more than five minutes of failing to catch a taxi. He couldn’t waste any more time. He half ran toward the intersection. Even in a busy district, there was no vacant cab.

Should I call Secretary Park back and ask them to send a car?

He hesitated — and then, in the distance, a vacant taxi approached. He flung up his hand, nearly stepping into the road. Thankfully, it stopped.

“Welcome — where to?”

“Korea University Hospital.”

“The one in Eulji‑ro?”

“Yes! That’s right.”

The hospital Secretary Park had named was, ironically, the very place they’d gone for health checkups together. It was far from home, but known for excellent exams; Taecheon had arranged it specially.

“Heading to a hospital… someone’s hurt, I take it?”

Seeing how agitated Jiwoon looked in the mirror, the driver tried to comfort him. But Jiwoon couldn’t answer; a single weak “Yes…” was all he could manage.

The voice was so dark and flat that the driver spoke no more.

In the back seat, Jiwoon clasped his hands, growing colder. A crushing anxiety surged. There was nowhere to place his fear.

If only Taecheon were here, he’d comfort me… No. He’s the one lying in a hospital now. I’m alone.

The terror, the anxiety, the despair of losing loved family returned — the memory of grandparents gone suddenly; how hard that had been.

Grandfather, Grandmother — please, let nothing happen to him.

He clasped his hands like a man praying and hunched forward. The vehicle’s vibrations thudded through him. He stared blankly at the floor mat. Tears welled, then fell.

A small tug at his belly. He frowned and wrapped an arm around it.

Right — Mango is here.

The being he cherished — briefly forgotten — came sharply to mind. Born of the two of them, breathing within his belly; more precious than anything.

He straightened from his curl.

For this child, I must be strong. In this moment when I don’t know what’s happened to him, in this time with nowhere to lean — now is when I must summon strength.

He laid a hand on the still‑low swell of his belly. It felt as if warmth rose from a far place. He stroked very gently. It wasn’t yet time to feel movement, but it felt, strangely, as if Mango inside him were speaking:

It’s okay. Don’t worry.

How ironic — a tiny life, not yet fully formed, becoming a pillar for a grown man. He bit his lip against fresh tears. Mango — daddy’s been foolish. Even this small you lends me strength. I won’t cry now.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out. The frantic rhythm of his heart began, little by little, to settle.

Home to hospital was a long way — nearly thirty minutes’ drive. Hitting congestion, the driver said he’d take back roads, and dove into tight alleys. After a drive like a race, the rear entrance of the hospital appeared.

“We’re here.”

Before the cab fully stopped, Jiwoon had his card out. Sensing the urgency, the driver processed it quickly.

He all but leapt out — and nearly fell, slipping on a paving block. Shoulders collided with passersby; he didn’t feel the pain.