Chapter 42

“I’m not going anywhere. Now that you’ve agreed to my terms, I have no reason to run away in this condition.”  

“You never know. You might just be trying to put me at ease before slipping away.”  

“You still don’t trust me?”  

“…….”  

“Taeheon, where would I even go?”  

Yaein scoffed at herself. She truly had nowhere left to go. She had already come all the way back to her hometown, and there was no one left to turn to.  

“Your mother wants to see you.”  

Taeheon, who had been staring intently at her, suddenly changed the subject.  

“My mother? Why?”  

Yaein paused mid-page as she flipped through the children’s book, lifting her head. The unexpected statement drew her full attention.  

“She wants a settlement.”  

“A settlement?”  

“Her lover is about to end up in prison. She’s asking you to stop it.”  

Yaein’s expression darkened as she grasped the meaning behind his words.  

“You reported him to the police?”  

“How else was I supposed to deal with a kidnapper? I can’t exactly grind him up and feed him to the dogs.”  

Taeheon casually threw out the gruesome imagery, gripping the corner of Yaein’s book as he did.  

With the landscape-shaped children’s book cutting off half of Taeheon’s face, his voice felt distant—like a whisper from somewhere unseen.  

A secretive, seductive whisper.  

Yaein acknowledged the temptation. As Taeheon said, she could witness her mother begging and pleading.  

“Use her too.”  

Your mother used you, so why shouldn’t you do the same?  

You were kidnapped and nearly died. Isn’t it only fair that she suffers too?  

Taeheon lowered the book, his lips parting.  

“Or should I handle it for you?”  

“…….”  

“You just have to give me permission. Just say the word—tell me to make her suffer until she wishes she were dead, and I’ll do it.”  

“…….”  

“I could even turn her into dog food.”  

Taeheon smirked as if he were joking, but the chill in the air said otherwise. Despite the house being comfortably heated, Yaein felt a cold shiver creep up from her feet.  

“What do you think?”  

He sounded almost as if he were seeking praise.  

It was an odd contrast—the same man who spoke so nonchalantly about dismembering people looking at her expectantly, like a child waiting for approval.  

When Yaein shook her head, the dangerous gleam in Taeheon’s eyes faded slightly.  

“Really?”  

“There’s no need for that.”  

“I thought you’d like the idea,” Taeheon muttered under his breath, sounding almost disappointed.  

“Even after everything she put you through, you’re still so damn kind.”  

“I’m not that kind,” Yaein replied flatly.

Yaein pressed her fingernail against the corner of the book, shaking her head. She had her own sense of revenge.  

The fact that she had even momentarily wavered at the news that her mother was looking for her felt ridiculous. Of course. That’s why she wants to find me. Yaein let out a bitter laugh.  

She traced her fingers over the vibrantly colored illustrations in the picture book before closing it.  

“I always wanted a book like this when I was little.”  

Would making her mother beg, controlling her the way she had once been controlled, actually bring relief? If she stopped being the fool and paid her back in kind, would that make her a better person?  

“I’m going to meet her.”  

There were things she needed to say.  

After answering, Yaein lowered her gaze back to the book. The colorful illustrations stood in stark contrast to the emotions churning inside her.  

Maybe it wasn’t even the book itself that she had wanted. Maybe she had wanted the sense of love and warmth that these kinds of books seemed to promise—the kind of love given to children who had them on their bedside tables.  

She shut the book. As the cover fell closed, Taeheon came fully into view.  

“Taeheon, if you’re not heading back to Seoul today, can I ask you for a favor?”  

Taeheon’s reply was as smooth and secretive as always, just as it had been when he’d told her he’d handle anything she asked.  

“Anything.”  

***

Taeheon hesitantly opened the picture book. The first page was filled with cartoonish, adorable animals.  

“You want me to read this?” His voice carried clear skepticism.  

He had grabbed a stack of the most popular books without bothering to check their contents. Never in his life had he imagined he would be the one reading them.  

“Look at this.”  

Yaein pulled a parenting book from the nightstand and flipped it open to a highlighted sentence: It’s beneficial for the baby when the father participates in prenatal education.  

“I don’t think the baby has heard your voice enough,” she said simply.  

Taeheon wasn’t sure how to respond, so he ran his finger over the first page of the picture book. The word father felt foreign.  

“The lion was heading out for a hunt,” he read.  

Yaein listened quietly. The story was simple—a classic Aesop’s fable.  

The lion spared the mouse. The mouse promised to repay the kindness. One day, the lion was caught in a trap.  

“The lion was trapped in a net. The mouse worked tirelessly to gnaw through the ropes,” he continued.  

Yaein, who had been leaning slightly toward him to see the book, eventually rested fully against his shoulder.  

The subtle weight of her head against him was unexpectedly distracting. Almost instinctively, he shifted his shoulder slightly to make it more comfortable for her to lean. 

“You have a really nice voice,” Yaein murmured.  

“Me?” Taeheon asked, clearly doubtful.  

“Yeah. I was surprised when I first met you. You were already good-looking, and then your voice was just as attractive.”  

Her tone was casual, as if stating an objective fact, but Taeheon wasn’t looking at the book anymore—he was looking at her.  

Compliments on his looks were nothing new. In fact, they often made him scoff internally. People praised his appearance without realizing the monster that lurked beneath. They had no idea what kind of being they were admiring.  

Would Yaein change her mind once she knew the truth?  

The thought always left an uncomfortable weight in his chest, a dull ache beneath his ribs.  

“You should keep reading,” Yaein reminded him, nudging his hand lightly. The touch sent a strange static-like sensation up his arm.  

Taeheon turned the page.  

“…Thanks to the mouse, the lion was freed from the trap.”  

The mouse kept its promise and saved the lion. The thin book came to an end in no time.  

“That worked out well,” Yaein mused.  

“For what?” Taeheon asked.

“The lion was freed,” Yaein murmured, tracing the final illustration of the two animals returning to the forest together with her fingertip.

“I used to envy kids who had parents that read them bedtime stories. My grandmother couldn’t read very well. And we couldn’t afford books anyway.”

“…….”

“But she did sing me lullabies a lot.” Yaein smiled faintly. “What about you? What did you do before bed?”

“Before bed…” Taeheon started to answer but trailed off.

Before sleeping, he had only wished for everything to end. 

Yaein gazed at him in silence, waiting. He needed to respond. Taeheon furrowed his brows, searching for the right words.

“……Nothing.”

What could he call the hours spent staring into the darkness of the bedroom, the closet, the basement, just waiting for the day to die? 

“After I met you? Mostly s*x,” he added, deliberately shifting the subject.

Yaein shot him a reproachful look. 

Taeheon pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. He could feel her pulse. Yaein didn’t push him away. 

He knew why. 

As long as the child was safe, Yaein had decided to tolerate him. Even though it was a condition he had agreed to, the thought unsettled him.

“I scheduled an OB-GYN appointment for you.”

Still, he had to keep his promise. Otherwise, Yaein would leave—physically or in some other way.

“You’ll have to travel a bit for it.”

“That makes sense. There aren’t many hospitals around here,” she mused.

After a brief hesitation, she asked, “Can I borrow your car that day?”

“Why do you need a car? I’ll drive you.”

“You’re coming with me?” she asked, as if the thought had never crossed her mind. Taeheon frowned.

“You thought I’d send you alone?”

“You’re busy. And… you don’t even like children.”

There was no accusation in her voice. But somehow, that made his mood sink even further.

The fact that Yaein didn’t expect anything from him, didn’t want him there, irritated him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said firmly.

Yaein only nodded, not looking particularly pleased about it.

But there was no way he would let her go alone.

To be completely honest, he didn’t want to be apart from her. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her, not even for a second. Because if he did, he might lose her again.

“If you’re going to meet your mother, do it near the hospital.”

He had no intention of letting them meet alone.

“I already reserved a restaurant for after your appointment. It seemed like the easiest option.”

Would she be upset that he had made all the arrangements without asking? 

But Yaein simply responded, “Alright. Thanks,” and quickly turned her gaze elsewhere.

Taeheon inhaled deeply, suppressing the urge to grab her by the shoulders and make her look at him.

Her calm indifference felt like a quiet but firm rejection.

Even when she was right beside him, she still felt so far away.

The obstetrics clinic Taeheon had booked was in a small building in the city. Yaein carefully memorized the directions in case she ever had to come alone. 

After checking in, she sat in the waiting area, uncomfortably fidgeting with her fingers. 

Taeheon sat beside her, maintaining a rigid, perfectly straight posture, staring ahead. 

He had seemed displeased ever since they got into the car. He hadn’t spoken the entire drive. 

“Are you feeling upset?” 

Yaein broke the silence. Taeheon barely turned to look at her. For some reason, the way he reacted made her chest tighten. 

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” she murmured. 

She felt guilty but also resentful. There was no reason to feel guilty. She hadn’t forced him to come, nor had she ever asked him to help raise the child. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Taeheon quickly masked his expression. 

“It’s not that,” he said curtly. 

His cold tone only made Yaein shrink further. He said it’s not that. Maybe he’s just tense. She tried to convince herself. 

But the moment they entered the consultation room, Taeheon’s expression darkened again. 

“You’re the father, correct?” 

At the medical staff’s question, he only nodded stiffly. He looked like someone who wanted to leave immediately. 

I should’ve just told him to wait outside. 

Yaein felt uneasy, knowing that the staff might notice how indifferent Taeheon was toward the baby. Not that they’d care… but still, it bothered her. 

After drawing blood and collecting a urine sample, they moved on to a detailed ultrasound. Taeheon remained still, as if he barely existed in the room. 

The doctor finally spoke. 

“The baby’s development is progressing without any issues, but…” 

“Is something wrong?” 

Yaein asked anxiously, unable to hide her concern. The doctor gave her a small, reassuring smile. 

“The fetus is fine. What’s more concerning is the mother’s condition.” 

“Is she not doing well?” 

For the first time, Taeheon asked a question. 

“It’s nothing to worry about, right?” 

Yaein interjected before the doctor could answer. She didn’t want to dwell on the topic. 

She wanted the doctor to tell him it was fine—that she was fine, that nothing bad would happen because of the baby, that he had no reason to be wary. 

“Well, given your low body weight, the length of your cervix, and the shape of your *terus, you do fall into the high-risk pregnancy category… But let’s take a look.” 

The ultrasound screen displayed the baby’s shape. Yaein couldn’t immediately recognize anything, but as the doctor pointed out key developments, she began to understand.