Ch 60

First, wipe away the tears. No, he didn’t want to show Ideun this side of himself any longer. He wanted to get out of here. He had indulged too much in baseless hope and needed time alone to sort out his overflowing emotions.

“Please……”

But Ji-an’s wish was not granted.

Haphazardly wrapping the blanket around himself, he lay on his side. Eventually, curling up and burying his face in the fabric, Ji-an shrank into himself like a cocoon—only to find himself in Ideun’s embrace.

Perched on the edge of the bed, Ideun pulled the curled-up Ji-an into his arms and cupped his small chin with one hand, tilting it up to face him. Ji-an’s face was soaked, as if he had cried an impossible amount in such a short time. His eyes remained tightly shut, refusing to look at Ideun.

So, he had misunderstood again. Because of his poor way with words, he had unwittingly pushed an already anxious person off a cliff.

“Baby, Ji-an, I imprinted on you, and now we’re mutually imprinted. That’s why the baby came. Not with anyone else—just you and me, our baby.”

Holding Ji-an tightly, Ideun whispered slowly into his ear. At first, Ji-an only hiccupped and sobbed, as if he hadn’t even heard him.

“Here. You and I have a baby.”

Ideun gently stroked Ji-an’s stomach and repeated himself, ensuring clarity. He continued rubbing Ji-an’s abdomen, waiting for his trembling body to relax and his stiff posture to soften.

After a long while, Ji-an, who had kept his face buried in the blanket, finally turned his head slightly to look at him. Ideun offered a soft smile.

“Yes, baby. Our baby. That’s why I suggested something other than coffee. Your pheromones have been a little unstable, and your hormone levels are slightly below average. You need to be more careful, eat better, rest more, and sleep well. That’s the only solution.”

Locking eyes with Ji-an’s wIdeuned ones, Ideun patiently explained again, releasing his pheromones into the air.

“No matter what anyone says, whether they like it or hate it, oppose it or accept it, no matter what happened in the past—don’t think about any of that. Just you, me, and the baby. Ah, and Bobo, too. The four of us, happily together. That’s all that matters. You imprinted on me, and I imprinted on you, so we can’t be separated now. That means you have to take responsibility for me for the rest of my life. Think you can handle that?”

Although Ji-an seemed to have stopped crying completely, he remained motionless. Ideun hugged him even tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“You said you’d forgive everything if I confessed my sins. I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I’m sorry for making you suffer. I’m sorry for leaving you alone all that time. I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner. I’m sorry for forcing things on you when I didn’t know anything. I’m sorry for pushing my feelings on you without understanding yours. I’m sorry for imprinting on you without permission…… And I’m sorry for suddenly bringing a baby into our lives.”

Ideun spoke honestly.

The only thing he could do for Ji-an now was to lay bare his feelings. Fancy words or material compensation weren’t necessary—those were matters for later.

As he learned the truth, he had cursed his own background and resented his nature. He had resolved to do anything Ji-an wanted, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let go. That was why he was clinging on like this, trying to persuade him. It was a plea—to protect the one he loved more than his own life and to safeguard their child.

“Liar.”

Ideun, who had been holding Ji-an in silence, waiting for his response, let out an inward sigh of relief at his words. He buried his face into Ji-an’s neck. The musk scent he had released seeped into Ji-an, blending and coming back out in a softened form.

Was it because of the imprint? Or was it due to pheromone or hormonal changes? Ji-an, who should have been scentless, now carried a fragrance similar to his own. A strange feeling surged within him.

Until now, he had called Ji-an cute, beautiful, endearing—his feelings were complicated, but he had summed them up with one word: love.

But what he felt now was something indescribable, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to lock Ji-an away where no one else could see him. It wasn’t just because he didn’t want him to be hurt or worn down by the world. It was pure possessiveness. That wretched Alpha’s possessiveness. His need to monopolize.

“It’s true.”

“You think just biting a few times is enough to imprint someone? And do you really think having a baby is that easy? You don’t have to make up something like this to trick me—I was going to marry you anyway.”

……He had expected denial or rejection, but Ji-an completely dismissed the idea instead, trying to rationalize it. Ideun didn’t press him further.

“What should we have for breakfast?”

“Coffee.”

“I’ll make it decaf.”

Since Ji-an refused to give up coffee, Ideun offered a compromise. When Ji-an fell silent, Ideun pressed more kisses onto his hair and forehead.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“What are you saying? Let go.”

“No.”

“…I need to use the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you.”

At that, Ji-an started pounding his fists against Ideun’s back. “If you keep this up, I won’t marry you!” Only then did Ideun finally let go.

Feeling dazed, Ji-an took a shower and emerged into the living room. The food he had ordered the night before was gone, replaced by a freshly set meal. He clicked his tongue softly and reached for the steaming cup of coffee.

After blowing on it, he took a small sip, savoring its bittersweet taste before letting out a quiet sigh. How could he give this up? Was this really decaf? It tasted no different from his usual coffee. He tilted his head in confusion but stopped mid-sip.

He could understand the mutual imprint. Since he had already imprinted on Ideun, if Ideun imprinted back, then that was a mutual imprint. Simple. He had accepted that he couldn’t erase his past and that it was intertwined with Ideun’s.

But a baby?

A baby with Ideun?

Infertility aside, he had no pheromones and had even been classified as a Beta. And yet, suddenly, he was pregnant? With Ideun’s child in his stomach?

Still tilting his head in confusion, Ji-an placed his free hand on his lower abdomen. A flat stomach with not an ounce of extra flesh—was there really a life growing inside? That was ridiculous. It didn’t take him long to shake his head in disbelief. But then, a thought struck him, and his head froze mid-shake.

“You?”

What was meant to remain a thought slipped out aloud.

The black snake he had met not once but twice in recent days. The first time, it had coiled around him completely. The second time, it had tried to leave him behind but ultimately returned, enclosing him in its solid, vast coils once again.

The second time, it had even cried. That tiny black baby snake had clearly tried to leave him.

“…I’m sorry.”

Lost in thought, Ji-an suddenly murmured.

That night when he had nearly died—hadn’t the little snake tried to leave, too? But in the end, it had hesitated and come back to embrace him. Hadn’t it stayed because it didn’t want to be alone?

Ji-an quietly set the coffee cup down on the table.

Everything had felt like a dream lately. He couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. And now, a baby?

As he stood still, pressing a hand to his stomach, he sensed movement and looked up.

It was Ideun, stepping out of the other bathroom.

“It’s decaf. You can drink it.”

As soon as Ideun saw the untouched coffee cup, he reassured him. Ji-an shook his head slightly. His condition hadn’t been great lately. Even a simple cold, which would normally clear up in a week with or without medicine, had been lingering for over a month.

He hadn’t been eating proper meals, and whenever he felt hungry, most of what he ate consisted of instant food or delivery. He didn’t follow a regular routine, lived absentmindedly… Thinking back on his life so far, all that remained for Ji-an was guilt.

He would get nosebleeds at the slightest thing, and he would pass out into sleep just as easily.

It was all because his body was weak. That was why the baby, who had come to him like a miracle, must have struggled to hold on. And yet, he had held onto the baby, who had been trying to leave in search of healthier, better parents.

“Ahjussi.”

As Ideun guided him to sit down and placed a spoon in his hand, Ji-an finally spoke.

“No one has ever been happy by my side. It’ll be hard. For you, for the baby.”

“If you don’t eat now, it’ll be hard for all three of us. So let’s eat.”

The moment he voiced something negative, Ideun immediately cut him off. Ji-an looked at him, sitting across the table.

“You know everything?”

Watching Ideun set his spoon down again, Ji-an bit his lower lip. He hadn’t even considered the time or place. He should have at least finished his meal first before saying anything—his impatience was the problem.

“Yeah.”

Pushing the bowl of galbitang and kkakdugi toward him, Ideun moved aside his half-finished coffee cup and brunch plate, which featured pancakes.

“Really?”

“Seo Ji-an. Just think about yourself and the baby. I know the hotel isn’t the most comfortable, but let’s stay here for a few days. The department store and movie theater are within walking distance, so you can go anytime. We’ll be able to see the baby through ultrasound soon, so why don’t we go to the hospital together then?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I told you—it doesn’t matter whether I know or not. Even if you don’t like it, you have to take responsibility for me, so just focus on that.”

“What? That’s so unfair. Why do I have to take responsibility for you? If anything, you should be the one taking responsibility! The baby and I will be just fine without you!”

Even as he spoke, Ji-an saw Ideun tending to his meal, so he lifted his spoon and took a sip of the soup.

“Then include me in that ‘just fine.’”

“What’s so great about you that I should?”

Taking turns between the soup and rice, Ji-an eventually scooped half of his rice into the galbitang and mixed it together. Then, noticing that the conversation had abruptly stopped, he looked up at Ideun. Though they had been talking, at some point, Ji-an had become absorbed in eating. Meanwhile, Ideun hadn’t even picked up his utensils.

He was simply watching him with deep eyes.

Just as Ji-an had struggled, wandered, and tried to run away, Ideun, who had now learned the truth, must have been just as conflicted. But this wasn’t anyone’s fault, was it? Ideun had been sick, and his grandmother had only wanted to heal him.

When a loved one is suffering, isn’t it natural for family to go to any lengths to help? That was why Ji-an had stayed by his aunt’s side until the end, even though she had been little more than a stranger he had lived with for a few years after his possession. So he couldn’t blame or resent anyone.

If he had to blame someone, maybe it would be Secretary Baek for not telling him the truth and constantly pushing him into Ideun’s room. But without Secretary Baek, this moment wouldn’t exist either.

“Then, from now on, don’t feel guilty toward me. This isn’t your fault. It’s not mine either. Not even your grandmother’s. If you promise that, I might consider including you. I mean, I haven’t exactly done everything right either. We all made some mistakes, so let’s just call it even.”

Ji-an lowered his gaze. If he kept looking into Ideun’s eyes, his emotions would overwhelm him, and he might end up crying. He took a spoonful of rice soaked in galbitang.

The soup was delicious, but it kept reminding him of his grandmother’s cooking.

“…There’s something I want to ask you. Will you do it?”

Wait. Didn’t he just say to rest, eat well, watch movies if he wanted, and go shopping if he felt like it? When Ji-an had pointed out that he had no wallet or cards, Ideun had simply pulled out a new card from his own wallet. And now, he was going to ask him to do something?

Before Ji-an could even ask what it was, a phone was pushed toward him. His eyes narrowed. Then, he saw Ideun reach for his own phone on the table.

Why was he taking his phone? And what was this?

“Only contact me.”

Picking up the phone in front of him, Ji-an checked it while glancing at Ideun again.

Honestly, there was no one else he would even contact. His social circle had always been small. The moment he decided to stay with Ideun, he had naturally drifted away from Haneul, the only friend he had considered close. And with that, every other connection he had disappeared as well.

Aside from that, the only people he knew were fellow part-timers and store owners from his previous jobs, but once he quit, they too naturally faded from his life.

Without needing to say anything, Ji-an checked his contact list and pouted.

Choi Ideun. Countryside Grandmother. Countryside Grandfather.

Just three contacts. And this meant that Ideun had decided these were the only people Ji-an was allowed to contact.

“By the way, when are we going back home?”

What about Bobo? There were caretakers, of course, but Ji-an was still Bobo’s dad.

“Once things are settled. It won’t take long.”

Though their conversation had been somewhat disjointed, they had managed to talk while eating. But it was cut short when Ideun received a call.

The moment he saw the caller ID, his expression hardened. He gestured for Ji-an’s understanding and left the table.

Ji-an set his spoon down.

Ideun had merely stood up, but Ji-an’s appetite disappeared instantly.

When Ideun returned and said he had to go, Ji-an didn’t ask anything and simply saw him off.

Left alone in the spacious hotel room, Ji-an tried to shake off the whirlwind of emotions by heading into the main room.

The old Ji-an wouldn’t have touched the neatly hung clothes, their tags still intact, but the Ji-an of now flipped through them, searching for something to wear.

He paid no mind to the labels or price tags, simply removing them and dressing himself in fresh clothes. Then, taking the phone and card Ideun had given him, he stepped outside.

Rather than letting himself sink into thoughts that would eat away at him, he needed to find something else to focus on—something that wouldn’t push his health too far but would still keep him going.