I don't remember the last time Kang looked at me the way he used to.
There was a time—months ago—when his gaze burned, sharp and possessive, but at least it was on me. At least I knew I existed in his eyes. Now… it feels like I'm invisible.
The bed beside me is always cold. He comes home late, leaves before dawn, and even when he's here, it feels like he's somewhere else entirely.
I try to pretend it doesn't hurt. I tell myself over and over: Don't cry, Seojoon. Don't show him your weakness. But every time I wake in the middle of the night, reaching for warmth that isn't there, my heart cracks a little more.
This morning is no different. I hear the faint rustle of fabric, the soft click of a belt buckle. Kang is already dressed for work, standing by the mirror, fixing his tie with mechanical precision.
"...Good morning," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.
For a second, I almost believe he'll turn to me, smile like before, maybe lean down to brush my hair back. But he doesn't.
"Mhm," he responded, not even looking in my direction.
That one syllable stings worse than any slap.
I sit up slowly, clutching the blanket to my chest. My stomach shifts, and I glance down at it—rounder now, fuller, holding the small life we made together. My palm moves instinctively to rub the spot where I felt a faint flutter.
"Do you… want to feel?" I ask softly, forcing a smile even though my lips tremble. "The baby moved last night. It's… it's strong. Just like you."
My voice cracks on the last word.
He doesn't even pause. Don't even give me a glance. "I'm busy," he cuts me off, tone sharp as a knife. "Don't bother me with useless things."
Useless.
The word slams into my chest. For a moment, I can't breathe.
I bow my head, biting down hard on my lip until I taste iron. "...Right. Sorry," I whisper.
His sigh fills the room—long, heavy, annoyed. Like I'm nothing but a burden. "Just take care of yourself. Don't cause trouble."
Then the door shuts behind him.
The silence that follows is unbearable.
I press both palms against my stomach, my voice shaking. "Did you hear that, little one? Papa says he's busy. He doesn't have time for us right now. But it's okay. You still have me, right? You'll always have me."
The baby shifts, a tiny flutter, and tears blur my vision. I let out a shaky laugh that sounds more like a sob. "See? You understand me. You're listening… even when no one else does."
Every morning, I cook breakfast for him. I make soup, rice, side dishes—things I learned slowly, just to make him happy. But he doesn't touch any of it now. The food just sits there until I throw it away, the smell of it lingering like an accusation.
I clean the house until my hands ache, though it's already spotless. I try to be useful. I try to make him see me again.
But nothing works.
He used to tell me he bought me so no one else could have me. Back then, I hated it. I thought it was cruel. But now? Now I would give anything just for him to say that again. At least it meant he cared enough to keep me close.
Now, I don't even know if he remembers why I'm here.
My chest feels hollow.
"Don't leave me," I whisper to the empty room, to the walls, to the silence that eats me alive. "Don't leave me alone with this."
But the only answer I get is the faint flutter in my belly.
My baby is the only one who still reminds me I'm not completely alone.
And yet, deep down, I'm terrified. Terrified that by the time this child comes into the world… Kang won't be here at all.
Days bled into each other. Morning, noon, night—it all felt the same.
Except the nights were the worst.
The bed was too big. Too cold. I curled on one side, clutching the blanket like it could replace the warmth I craved. Sometimes I would bury my face into Kang's pillow just to catch the faint trace of his cologne, even though it made me cry.
Tonight, when I heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking, my heart leapt despite myself.
He's home.
I sat up quickly, smoothing my hair with trembling hands, pulling the blanket tighter around my swollen belly. My baby shifted inside me, like it knew. "Appa's home," I whispered to it, a small smile tugging at my lips.
The door opened. Kang stepped in, his shoulders heavy, his expression hard. He didn't even glance at me—just removed his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the chair.
"Kang…" My voice shook. "Welcome home."
"Eh…uhm," he replied flatly, loosening his tie.
My chest sank, but I forced myself to keep smiling. I slid off the bed carefully, waddling over to him. "You must be tired. I—I made dinner. I waited for you."
"I already ate," he cut me off, brushing past me.
The rejection was so sharp I actually flinched. "Oh. I… I see."
He poured himself a glass of water, drinking it in silence. The sound of the glass hitting the counter echoed through the kitchen, too loud in the quiet.
"Kang," I tried again, desperation clawing at my throat. "Can you just… talk to me for a little while? Please? I… I'm scared."
He turned then, eyes cold. "Scared of what?"
I bit my lip, my voice breaking. "Of this. Of you not… looking at me anymore. Of being alone. I—I don't know what to do with a baby. I don't know anything about this world. I only know what you taught me, and now you won't even—"
"Enough," he snapped, his tone sharp as glass.
I froze.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, then dropped to my belly. Something flickered in his expression—something unreadable—but it was gone too quickly.
"I don't have time for this," he muttered, brushing past me again, heading toward the study.
My knees gave out before I even realized it. I sank to the floor, trembling, clutching my stomach as if I could shield the baby from the ache inside me.
"Why… Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered through tears. "You said I was yours. You said no one else could have me. But you don't even want me anymore…"
I pressed my forehead against the cool floor, sobbing quietly.
Then a soft kick came from inside me.
I let out a choked laugh through the tears, cradling my belly. "You're still here, aren't you? You're the only one who still wants me…"
But the truth gnawed at me, hollow and merciless: if Kang couldn't even look at me, how could I hope he'd ever look at our child?
I started keeping track of the days by the way my body hurt.
Some mornings I could barely stand. My back ached, my ankles swelled, and still I forced myself to prepare the table, to make the food Kang liked—even if he never touched it.
The silence in the house was unbearable.
I'd find myself talking to the baby just to fill the emptiness.
"Papa will smile again," I whispered one evening, stroking my stomach as I sat by the window. The city lights blurred through my tears. "He has to. He loved me once… didn't he? Maybe he's just… tired. Maybe he'll come back to me."
But deep down, the doubt grew like poison.
That night, I heard his footsteps approaching. My heart jumped. I stood, brushing my hair nervously, and hurried to greet him.
"Kang—"
"Not now." His tone was clipped, dismissive.
I grabbed his sleeve before he could walk past me. "Please. Just five minutes. Talk to me."
His eyes narrowed. "Seojoon, let go."
I held on tighter, desperation spilling over. "Why? Why are you treating me like this? I'm carrying your child! Don't I mean anything to you anymore?"
The silence between us cracked like ice.
Finally, he yanked his arm free, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't understand anything. Stop acting like you do."
The words sliced through me. I staggered back, clutching my belly. "I don't understand? You won't even let me try!"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. He just turned and walked away, his footsteps fading until the study door slammed shut.
The sound echoed in my chest like a death sentence.
I sank onto the floor, sobbing into my hands. The baby shifted again inside me, like it was trying to remind me I wasn't alone—but all I could feel was the crushing weight of being unwanted.
"I can't stay here," I whispered to myself, voice trembling. "If he doesn't want me anymore… Maybe I should leave. Maybe I should take you somewhere far away."
The thought terrified me. The world outside was unknown, dangerous. But the world inside this house felt even worse—like drowning while breathing.
I curled up against the wall, shaking. "I just wanted to be loved," I confessed to the dark, my voice breaking. "Just once… truly loved."
And for the first time, I wondered if Kang Taejun would ever love me again.
too heavy to breathe.
Kang came home late again, his tie loosened, his eyes cold as stone. I had been waiting by the door, pacing for hours with anger and fear churning in my chest.
This time, I couldn't stay silent.
"Where were you?" My voice cracked, but I stood tall.
He glanced at me once, already irritated. "Work."
"Work?" I laughed bitterly. "You call it work when you can't even look at me? When you can't touch the food I make, when you treat me like a stranger in your own house?"
He stiffened but didn't answer.
My tears burned. "I gave up everything for you, Kang Taejun. I let you own me, control me, break me—and still, I loved you. And now? Now I'm carrying your child, and you act like I disgust you!"
His jaw clenched, his gaze sharp. "Enough."
"No!" I screamed, chest heaving. "Don't you dare shut me out again! If you hate me, then say it to my face. If you regret it, say it!"
The silence that followed was worse than any words he could've said.
My whole body trembled, and then—a sharp pain tore through my stomach. My breath caught, panic flooding me. "Ah—"
Kang's eyes widened as I doubled over, clutching my belly. The floor blurred under me. "Seo-joon?"
"I—I think—" My voice broke into a sob. "The baby—"
He rushed forward, catching me before I hit the ground. For the first time in months, his hands were frantic, not cold. "Hold on. Stay with me."
The next hours passed in fragments—bright hospital lights, nurses' hurried voices, my own screams ripping from my throat.
And then silence.
When I woke, my body felt hollow, weak. My first thought was of the baby. I reached out blindly, desperate. "My child… where's my baby?"
No answer. Only the sound of the door clicking open.
Kang stood there, his face unreadable.
Tears welled in my eyes. "Please… let me see them. I need to see—"
His gaze hardened. "You need to rest."
My heart stopped. "No… no, don't do this to me—please!" I begged, sobbing, my arms shaking as I tried to sit up. "Don't take my child away from me!"
But he didn't move. Didn't flinch.
The last thing I saw before collapsing back against the pillow was his cold silhouette against the doorway.
And the emptiness in my arms burned worse than any wound.