WWBU - 90

After hearing the explanation that Wan had been enduring pain but hadn’t complained, Hyun-soo’s face turned ashen. She felt overwhelming guilt for not noticing her child’s suffering and instead being so careless.

Guk, sensing Hyun-soo’s remorse, reached out and gently took her hand. Hyun-soo bit back her tears.

“For now, we’ve managed to bring the fever down with emergency measures. Please come back to the hospital once it’s morning.”

“Understood…”

“Next of kin?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

While the doctor was explaining the situation, a nurse approached and called for the guardian. Both Hyun-soo and Guk responded simultaneously. They exchanged glances, and an awkward tension filled the air.

“There’s some paperwork you’ll need to complete. Who would like to handle it?”

“I’ll go.”

Leaving Hyun-soo standing there somewhat dazed, Guk stepped forward. He gave her hand one last firm squeeze before letting go, signaling with his eyes as if to say, “Wait here.”

As Guk and the nurse walked away, the doctor also hurriedly left the room. Hyun-soo gazed at Wan, who lay so small and fragile on the narrow hospital bed.

“Is this fortunate? Is it, Wan?”

Hyun-soo found herself asking their child about Yoon Guk’s sudden appearance today. Though Wan was fast asleep, his long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, unable to hear or respond, Hyun-soo couldn’t help but voice her thoughts aloud. Perhaps deep down, she too felt relieved—not having to face this alone.

“If you’re tired, go rest in the car for a bit.”

The two sat side by side beside the sleeping Wan. After shedding tears earlier, Hyun-soo’s eyes were swollen and red. Guk wanted nothing more than to let her rest, even if just for a moment.

“How could I? Wan is right here.”

“Isn’t he not alone? I’m here too. Go rest without worry.”

Guk’s calm tone made Hyun-soo lower her head. Guilt still lingered within her for failing to notice Wan’s symptoms sooner.

“Even so… I’d rather stay here. It’s easier for me this way.”

Awkwardly smiling, Hyun-soo tried her best to appear composed, though the strain of her emotions showed through.

Seeing her struggle, Guk decided against pushing further.

“If it puts your mind at ease, then stay. Let’s be here together.”

Without much response, Hyun-soo extended her hand to gently stroke Wan’s tiny fingers. His soft, delicate hand twitched slightly before gripping her finger tightly. Witnessing this, Hyun-soo’s heart sank deeply once again.

Wan’s fever finally broke around dawn. Fortunately, it subsided. Adults could endure fevers, but infants were especially vulnerable. Prolonged high temperatures could lead to severe consequences, such as brain damage.

“Shall I lay him down on the bed?”

Back home, Guk asked Hyun-soo as they entered the room. Wan remained asleep in Guk’s arms.

“Oh, yes. Lay him down on the bed.”

At Hyun-soo’s reply, Guk carefully placed Wan onto the bed. He then leaned down slightly, watching over the sleeping baby intently.

Standing nearby and observing the scene, Hyun-soo felt an odd sensation. Seeing Guk and Wan so close together, she realized anew that they were father and son.

Perhaps it was her own selfishness, she thought. How could she separate a father and son bound by blood?

Click—the door closed behind them as Guk and Hyun-soo stepped into the living room.

“You should rest too. You must be tired.”

“And you? Are you heading back to Seoul now?”

Rubbing her weary eyelids, Hyun-soo’s question hung in the air. For a moment, Guk didn’t answer. Then, with a faint smile, he spoke.

“What if I stayed longer?”

“No. Who said anything about that?”

“How about coming back to Seoul with me?”

Lowering her hand from rubbing her face, Hyun-soo looked up at Guk. Her eyes reflected exhaustion, yet her resolve burned brightly.

“No.”

“Alright.”

Guk chuckled lightly, as if he had anticipated her response. His smile faded as he tenderly stroked Hyun-soo’s hair, locking eyes with her.

“I’ll finish what I came for and return soon. Wait for me.”

“…”

“Eh? Wait for me, Hyun-soo.”

“…”

“If you run away again, there won’t be a second chance. Neither for you nor anyone else.”

His firm voice struck her ears like a stake driven into the ground. The truth of his words was evident in the sharp intensity of his gaze. It was clear—he meant every word. If she ran again, he might tear the world apart trying to find her.

“I don’t want to know how far I’d go either. So…”

Guk pressed his lips to Hyun-soo’s forehead. Feeling the warmth of his large hands cradling her cheeks, Hyun-soo grasped his wrist.

“Let’s meet again here.”

She couldn’t respond or make any promises. All she could do was close her eyes to the tickling breath and voice against her skin.

Guk left. Once again, Hyun-soo was alone. Sitting in the living room for a while, she eventually went to check on Wan in his room. Thankfully, his fever had subsided, and he appeared peaceful.

After ensuring he wouldn’t wake, Hyun-soo carefully tucked him in with a blanket and returned to the living room. The dim house was eerily quiet, almost desolate.

It was already 2 a.m. Knowing it was late, she should have gone to bed, but sleep eluded her. Instead, Hyun-soo began tidying up the house in the dead of night.

She washed the cups left in the sink, discarded the spoiled fruits that had been sitting out for days, organized the cluttered table and TV area, and finished folding the laundry she’d started earlier.

“It’s only 3 a.m.… Still?”

She frowned upon realizing she had said “still.” Why had she used that word?

Recognizing the implication—that she was waiting for something—Hyun-soo shook her head in frustration.

Unable to fall asleep, she sat in the living room and turned on the TV. An old drama was airing reruns. She watched silently, careful not to wake Wan.

After staring blankly at the screen for a while, her head began to droop. Finally, she started nodding off. Before long, she stretched out on the floor.

Once again, the hum of the refrigerator filled the silence as darkness enveloped the house.

In the dim glow of the TV, Hyun-soo lay sideways in the living room. Propping her head up with one arm, she clutched her phone tightly in her hand.

“What time is it?”

Having slept for two or three hours, she opened her eyes groggily. Rubbing her face, she checked the time. Good grief—it was already past 6 a.m.

A local morning news broadcast played on the TV. As Hyun-soo brushed her tangled hair back, she froze mid-motion.

“What is this?”

[Drunk Driving Causes Triple Collision on Highway... Two in Critical Condition, License Revocation Likely]

At first glance, it seemed like a typical accident report. But an inexplicable unease crept over her, making her restless. Hurriedly finding the remote, Hyun-soo turned up the volume.

-This accident, caused by speeding under the influence, occurred at approximately 2 a.m. this morning...

Hyun-soo couldn’t believe her eyes. In the footage of the crash site, she recognized a familiar car.

-The driver and passenger of the ○○○○ vehicle sustained serious injuries and were transported to a nearby hospital.

Her heart sank as if it had been thrown to the floor.

The mangled wreck shown on the screen was unmistakably Guk’s car.

“Oh no, what do I… wait, my phone! My phone!”

Though she hadn’t confirmed the victims’ identities, the make and model of the crashed car matched Guk’s unmistakable vehicle—a sleek design she’d never seen elsewhere. In other words, the likelihood of it being his was extremely high.

Realizing she already held her phone, she quickly dialed Guk’s number—an unblocked but unused contact.

-Ring… ring… ring… ring…

The ringing seemed endless, oblivious to Hyun-soo’s growing anxiety.

“Please pick up… please…”

When the call finally connected, all she heard was an automated message.

Despair gripped Hyun-soo. Trembling, unsure of what to do next, her breathing quickened, and her vision blurred.

All she could do was pace anxiously, her mind racing.

After a brief moment, she steeled herself and unlocked her phone again.

First, she searched for hospitals near the accident site. Filtering for those with emergency rooms, she compiled a list and jotted it down on a notepad. Her reasoning was simple: rather than sit and fret, she decided to act—to visit each emergency room until she found him.

Stumbling to the door, Hyun-soo hastily threw on some clothes. With no time to change out of her pajamas, she simply layered outerwear over them. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered Wan sleeping peacefully on the bed.

“Oh, Wan. What about Wan…”

Deciding what to do with Wan posed another challenge. It was too early to ask the babysitter, and given his recent illness, she hesitated to take him along.

What should I do? How can I fix this? Frustrated and helpless, Hyun-soo’s eyes grew hot with tears. Her heart raced, yet nothing seemed to work out as she hoped.