Side Story Chapter 5
Taeheon’s eyes, which had been narrowing, softened. In an instant, his face turned into that of a defenseless boy as he gave a small nod.
To think that something could scare Kwon Taeheon.
He had once told Yaein that he was afraid—afraid she might die.
“Are you afraid you might hurt Saejun?”
Yaein asked again, gently.
Taeheon’s expression grew complicated.
“That child… he’s perfect.”
Though meant as praise for their son, it didn’t sound joyful.
It sounded distant—like he was describing a classical masterpiece or a celestial being, forever out of reach.
Sometimes, Taeheon had that look on his face—the one that seemed to say, *I don’t know if I’m allowed to be here.*
As if he was unsure whether he deserved this place, this life. Like someone thrown into an unfamiliar world, unable to make sense of anything.
It hurt, inescapably.
“You told me before that no matter what I say, you’ll believe me,” Yaein said softly.
“Yeah.”
“You still believe me?”
“I believe everything you say.”
Taeheon leaned his head against her shoulder. The wind slipped between them, quietly.
“Saejun is your son. He came early, but he never gave us any trouble. He grew strong and gentle.”
Listening intently, Taeheon let out a quiet breath. No matter how often he swore to do anything she asked, the only thing she ever really asked of him… was kindness.
The only person who could ever truly hurt him never would.
“He won’t break just because you hold him,” she murmured.
Taeheon bowed his head, humbled. Somehow, Yaein’s slender shoulder held up the weight of him.
“Me and Saejun—we’ll always be with you.”
Her fingers brushed over his shoulder.
When she touched him like this, it felt like his entire body, the one he’d dragged through life for so long, was being remade. Like he was growing new skin.
In her touch, he could believe he was becoming someone else—someone whole.
“Saejun needs you,” she said.
“…”
“Now, and always.”
*Would that perfect child really need someone like him?*
Taeheon couldn’t help but doubt.
But his darkest fears had all missed their mark.
He knew the moment he saw the baby.
Their son wasn’t terrifying.
He was flawless. So much so that Taeheon was ashamed he’d once wished he hadn’t been born.
“So, stay close to him,” Yaein whispered.
He had never learned how to be a father.
All he had grown up seeing was how to become a monster.
*What if I ruin him?
What if it happens even if I don’t mean for it to?
What if, before Yaein can lift me out of this, I end up hurting that tiny, helpless baby the way I once destroyed everything else?*
If something like that happened… could his wife ever forgive him?
The fear had no end.
Terror bred more terror.
Everything was so unbearably new.
“Hold him. Talk to him. Stay with him. Watch how he grows—don’t take your eyes off him. Protect him. You protect him,” Yaein said.
She wrapped her arms around Taeheon’s head. Steadying him.
“Just like you stay beside me.”
He repeated the words to himself—her revelation, her plea.
If Yaein asked, he would do anything.
Because she said so. Because it was her.
Not only because he cherished Lee Yaein more than anything in this world,
but because she was right.
She would never lead him toward harm.
She would never destroy him.
All she ever did was lead him into the light—so he could have more.
*Maybe this is what love does.*
Taeheon nodded to his first love.
***
The reason Taeheon had first visited Gyeongju house was simple: Yaein.
These days, he had another reason: their son.
With that added reason came more frequent visits.
“You’re here? Saejun had so much fun he’s already fast asleep—go on, take him.”
The front door to Gyeongju’s house, now as familiar as their own, opened.
Gyeongju stood there in a vivid pink lounge set, welcoming the couple.
“Thank you for watching Saejun, Mother,” Yaein said.
“That boy is just too easy. I barely had to do anything but watch him.”
“Did he eat his food well?”
“Saejun? He never fusses over food.”
While Yaein stepped inside, chatting with practiced ease, Taeheon quietly stood behind her—just as he always did.
Most of his visits had gone like this.
“Taeheon, you’re looking better these days,” Gyeongju commented as she led them into the living room.
It was the kind of polite remark she often made.
Normally, Taeheon would just nod.
But this time, he looked her directly in the eye.
“Yes. You too, Mother.”
It was a short response, but enough to surprise both Yaein and Gyeongju.
“O-oh… Thank you,” Gyeongju stammered, momentarily stumbling as if thrown off balance. Yaein quickly caught her.
A loaded glance passed between them.
Without waiting for a reply, Taeheon walked deeper into the house and returned with Saejun in his arms.
Thanks to Taeheon’s large frame, the baby—wrapped snugly in a thick blanket—looked like a loaf of bread nestled in a basket.
Yaein couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.
“What’s funny?” Taeheon asked, genuinely confused.
“Nothing,” Yaein said with a shake of her head as she opened the front door.
“We’ll head out now. Thanks again, Mother. Next time, we’ll bring something with us.”
“Bring what? Just get going already.”
Gyeongju glanced at Taeheon, subtly hopeful, but Taeheon offered a brief farewell and headed straight to the car. Yaein gave her a quick, supportive look before following after him.
Even while being buckled into his infant car seat, Saejun didn’t stir. He only whimpered briefly when they arrived home and were taking him back out of the car—but that, too, quickly subsided.
“Ahhh.”
Just as Taeheon was about to get up after laying Saejun in his crib, a tiny hand grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.
With soft, dewy brown eyes that mirrored his mother’s, Saejun looked up at him and flailed his arms gently. His jelly-soft hand clung tightly to Taeheon’s sleeve.
“Don’t want Daddy to go?”
Yaein spoke for Saejun, noticing how awkwardly Taeheon froze in place.
Saejun glanced briefly at his mom, then stretched his little hand out to tap Taeheon’s wrist again and again.
When Taeheon didn’t react, the baby’s gestures grew quicker, more insistent—until, for once, he furrowed his brows in clear displeasure.
“What’s wrong, Saejun?”
Yaein tried to soothe him, but Saejun was fixated. Normally, he’d shift his attention to Yaein the moment she called his name, but today he was stubborn.
“Do you want Daddy to hold you?”
She looked over at Taeheon. He was softly stroking the small hand that clutched his sleeve, his own hand trembling just slightly.
Watching his hidden expression, Yaein gently placed her hand on the back of his head. Her fingers smoothed his hair, then trailed slowly down his back.
As if mimicking her, Taeheon followed her motions—gently brushing the baby’s head, softly patting his back.
The baby smiled.
Taeheon inhaled sharply.
And didn’t exhale for a long time.
“…Honey?”
Yaein tapped his shoulder cautiously. Finally, a long, shuddering breath escaped him.
Seeing the turmoil on Taeheon’s face, Yaein herself forgot to breathe.
“Uwah.”
The baby mumbled, snuggling into Taeheon’s chest. Taeheon stayed frozen, unmoving. It felt like a slender but unyielding rod had pierced through his body, holding him in place.
His face twisted like someone enduring a deep, aching pain—leaving Yaein unsure and panicked for a moment.
But the emotions that then washed over his features weren’t fear or anguish.
There was a glimmer of moisture in his tightly knit eyes. His lashes dampened.
Like he was listening to the baby’s heartbeat, Taeheon closed his eyes and stayed still.
Yaein gently leaned her head against his back.
The three bodies nestled together as one.
“Taeheon,” she said softly—her voice full of boundless love.
“Breathe.”
Yaein let out a small giggle.
Only then did Taeheon seem to remember to breathe—deeply, like someone learning how to do it for the very first time.
In his arms, Saejun wriggled. Surprised, Taeheon began to loosen his hold, but was quickly interrupted by a burst of laughter from the baby.
“Kyaa!”
Saejun pressed his plump little palm against Taeheon’s cheek, beaming with joy as if nothing in the world made him happier.
And finally, Taeheon started to breathe properly.
“Saejun really loves his daddy.”
Joy overflowed from Yaein and poured into Taeheon, just as her tears had once moistened his own eyes.
“Daddy loves Saejun too,” she whispered.
A sense washed over her—this moment might be a preview of the days to come. No, it wasn’t just a feeling—it was nearly a certainty.
Just as Yaein had taught him so much, their son would bring new things into Taeheon’s life as well.
Taeheon would learn how to be a good father. Even if he hadn’t been born that way.
***
The morning sun warmed the bedroom with its gentle light. Yaein woke up with a yawn.
The baby lay sound asleep in bed. Stretching, she glanced over at the other side and tilted her head.
“Hey, honey?”
Yaein headed out into the living room to find her missing husband. Near the kitchen, she finally spotted him—perfectly dressed and ready for the day.
“Did I sleep in?”
She pouted slightly, looking at Taeheon who had already finished getting ready for work.
“You should’ve woken me up so I could at least make you breakfast…”
“There’s plenty of side dishes in the fridge. Why wake you? You had trouble sleeping after Saejun woke up last night.”
Saejun had stirred in the early dawn, asking for attention. While the baby had been all smiles, Yaein and Taeheon had to fight off their drowsiness.
In the end, it had been Taeheon who stayed up, cradling the child back to sleep—but now Yaein was the one groggy and sluggish.
Marveling at his unshakable stamina, she reached around to wrap her arms around his neck. Taeheon gently lowered his head so she wouldn’t need to stand on her toes.
“Will you be home around the same time today?”
“I’ll text you if I’m running late.”
He buried his face into the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
“You’ve been really cute lately, you know that?”
“You always think I’m cute.”
It was just another ordinary morning.
But these days, that kind of normalcy felt precious.
Rather than craving dramatic moments, Yaein found herself hoping this gentle peace would continue. It was proof of how happy she truly was—and that made her quietly, deeply joyful.
“Saejun, say ‘Have a good day, Daddy!’”
Holding Saejun, Yaein walked Taeheon to the door.
“Have a good day, Daddy!”
She wiggled the baby’s tiny hand and spoke in a childlike tone. Taeheon burst out laughing.
The way his eyes crinkled, his lips curled—it was beautiful.
Now, Taeheon could smile so naturally in front of her. And that made her heart swell.
After Taeheon left for work, everything returned to the usual rhythm.
Saejun gobbled up his baby food, spent some time playing in his walker with Mom, and then promptly passed out again.
They say babies sleep less as they grow, but Saejun seemed in no hurry to give up his sweet naps.
Yaein sat beside him and opened a language study book she’d recently picked up again.
About thirty minutes passed.
The doorbell rang.
It was too early for the babysitter to arrive. Yaein hurried to the door, thinking Taeheon might’ve forgotten something.
“Did he forget—?”
She opened it, only to find a completely unexpected face.
A person she hadn’t even wanted to see in her dreams.
A pale face appeared beneath messy, hanging strands of hair. Even as she raised her head, the woman’s features remained shrouded in shadow.
She lifted a hand and waved.
“Hi.”
Serin smiled—strangely.