NLFSD Chapter 86
by berryChapter 86
“We’re here.”
“Thank you…”
Madam Choi stopped her car in the underground garage of her apartment building. She ushered Jiwoon inside and into the elevator.
She noticed his eyes — lids puffed to the point of swelling. Clearly, he had wept enough to soak his sleeves. The quiet hum of the elevator was broken only by soft sobs, sniffles echoing.
Did Taecheon make a mistake? she wondered. That boy went into marriage without ever dating… He probably hurt Jiwoon without realizing. He takes after his father — harsh, stoic — his words can sting.
“You must be upset. You can’t stop crying.”
“Hhh…yes…”
Jiwoon rubbed his sleeve across his wet face. Unable to watch, Madam Choi unwound her luxury silk scarf, glittering under the lights, and handed it to him.
“Blow your nose.”
“…Can I really?”
“Just do it.”
“Then… I won’t hold back.”
Pong! Jiwoon blew wildly, then followed her out.
The apartment door opened. Jiwoon hesitated at the threshold, glancing at lavish art, gilt décor, elegant furniture — all exuding her refined character.
“I’ll impose only for a few days. Then I’ll leave.”
“No. Stay as long as you need.”
She patted his shoulder gently.
So maternal beneath that dignified appearance. Now I see where Taecheon gets that hidden warmth.
Growl! Jiwoon’s stomach erupted.
“…How embarrassing.”
But of course he was starving — no breakfast, no lunch after the hospital, and his only intake all day had been IV fluids during his “breakdown.” Running on empty after expending energy was catching up to him.
“You’re hungry. I’ll fix something.”
“No, I couldn’t…!”
He waved his hands, unwilling to trouble her further.
“Nonsense. The fridge has plenty. Sit.”
Soon she bustled in the kitchen, setting before him steaming bowls of miyeok‑guk (seaweed soup)1, braised pollack, banchan side dishes, and hot rice. Unlike food outside, this meal gave no nausea. His stomach eased, appetite surged.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Chew carefully. Don’t upset your stomach.”
He polished off two heaping bowls. I’ve got one more mouth inside me. Two servings is only right.
“You eat well — not that I didn’t already notice.”
“I was so hungry.”
“Dessert, then?”
“Yes, please!”
Pregnancy amplified his appetite. Madam Choi brought out mangoes and mandarins — his favorites.
“The guest room’s usually unheated. Until it warms, stay here with fruit.”
“Yes, Mother.”
As she carved mango, Jiwoon shivered.
“Cold? You must’ve been out long.”
“…Actually, I can’t regulate body temperature these days.”
“Really? Then take a blanket.”
She returned with a thick quilt, draping it over him with care.
“Don’t catch cold. Wrap yourself tight.”
“…Thank you.”
Watching her fuss reminded him bittersweetly: That’s exactly like Taecheon. Clumsy with words, but expressive in deeds. He really takes after his mother.
“Mango, try.”
“…Delicious! Oh, heaven.”
Sweet fruit, warmth of quilt, his heart finally calmed. Food and shelter — that’s all it takes to soothe. Still… so many problems remain.
“You look gloomy.”
“…Yes.”
“Speak if you need. Bottling it up only makes you ill.”
Her hand covered his. For a moment, Jiwoon almost blurted everything, overwhelmed.
“Mother… could I tell you something?”
“Of course. Go on.”
After hesitation, he chose the biggest truth.
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?! Oh my goodness.”
“…I only just found out.”
“Really? Oh heavens.”
Her eyes went wide — astonishment mixed with delight. Finally, the long‑awaited grandchild.
“By the way… you remember the medicine you gave for Taecheon?”
“…The herbal tonic?”
“Yes. He didn’t drink it, so… I did.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You what—”
“I’m sorry. I drank his tonic.”
“Sorry? That medicine boosts Alpha stamina! If an Omega takes it, pheromones can destabilize!”
“I think… that’s why I got pregnant.”
Mystery clicked into place: violent heats, abnormal pheromone tests, conception under near‑impossible odds.
“…Maybe so. But then — what did my son do, to drive a pregnant spouse from home? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no — not like that…”
How to explain? The “terminal illness,” the misdiagnosis… He fumbled as she pondered. Then her phone blared.
“It’s Taecheon.”
“D‑don’t answer!”
Pale, Jiwoon shook his head. She left it ringing. Finally it stopped.
“Phew.”
“If I ignore too much, he’ll suspect. Should I call back casually, say nothing?”
“Yes, please. And if he asks… please don’t say you saw me.”
“Alright.”
She dabbed fruit juice from her fingers, but accidentally tapped video call.
“Oh no! Wrong button.”
“What?!”
Before she could cancel, the screen lit.
—“Mother.”
“Oh, son! Hello.”
She waved, smiling awkwardly. He returned with a heavy, worried face.
“You called me first. Why?”
“…Just wanted to check on you.”
But as she rose to carry the phone elsewhere, the angle shifted — the wide lens revealing more of her living room.
—“Wait, Mother. What’s that… behind you?”
“…W‑what do you mean?”
Footnotes:
- Miyeok‑guk (미역국): Seaweed soup, traditionally served on birthdays and postpartum recovery; here symbolic of maternal care for her pregnant “child‑in‑law.”