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Four years. Four years had passed since Jaeyi staged the elaborate fiction of her own death. Four long years since she last felt the warmth of Seulgi’s touch. Yet, that distance had only refined the obsession.
Jaeyi had become a devoted, invisible sentinel, monitoring Seulgi's life through ghost accounts and digital shadows. Occasionally, when the sheer, physical ache of absence became unbearable, she indulged in dangerous, fleeting moments of physical stalking—just to breathe the same air, just to confirm her safety.
During those four years of silent observation, the passion Jaeyi felt hadn't faded; it had become a hard, glittering, and utterly irresistible hunger to possess her completely.
It was this consuming desire that drove the recent, undeniably irrational act: leaving another package—a final, desperate gambit—on Seulgi’s doorstep mere weeks before her graduation. Inside was an invitation: a plea to abandon everything and join Jaeyi on the run.
Now, in the unforgiving, desolate silence of Busan night, Jaeyi sat on a cold, deserted bench. Her hands were anxiously working over a small, deep blue velvet box, twisting it, flipping it, a nervous tic distracting her from the pounding of her heart.
The meeting had been requested for a specific, difficult time and location—deliberately inconvenient, requiring a monumental effort to find her. Because a sane, rational part of Jaeyi understood the monstrosity of her demand. She was asking Seulgi to jettison not just her current stable life, but her dreams, her secured future, everything, simply to become a fugitive with her.
It was a selfish, monstrous act. But she still needed to try. Just one last, reckless attempt.
The appointed time was seconds away. Jaeyi closed her eyes, drawing a deep, shuddering sigh. Her head slumped forward, shoulders heavy, the blue box still tumbling between her fingers.
The clock in her mind ticked past the minute. Seulgi hadn't come.
It was over.
Jaeyi slowly opened the velvet box. Inside lay a pair of interlocking rings, designed like a subtle, metallic puzzle meant to fit only each other. She picked one out. On the inside band, tiny but clear, were the engraved initials: "YS". Jaeyi's last name for Seulgi. A secret promise to guide, to protect, to care, to heal, and to love.
She nervously twirled the ring. As the cold metal touched her skin, her eyes suddenly felt a burning, unbearable heat. Her lips trembled, struggling to hold back a deep, unfamiliar sob. This was it. Her final limit. If Seulgi wasn't here, she would disappear forever and cease all contact.
But then, a hand appeared in front of her face. Long, familiar fingers, perfectly placed.
The hand was offering itself, inviting her to slide the ring she was holding onto that finger.
Jaeyi snapped her gaze upward.
Seulgi.
She stood there, illuminated by the lonely overhead lamp, with the sweetest, most genuine smile Jaeyi had ever seen her wear.
A torrent of joy, disbelief, utter amazement, and overwhelming surprise ripped through Jaeyi’s chest.
She sprang to her feet, the blue box clattering to the ground, and enveloped Seulgi in a fierce, desperate hug. She held on tightly, impossibly tightly, as if Seulgi might vanish into the night air.
"You came." The words were choked out against Seulgi’s hair.
"Of course."
For the first time in over a decade, Jaeyi broke. Tears, thick and hot, poured down her face. She sobbed, releasing four years of silent agony, fear, and possessive love into the sanctuary of Seulgi’s arms.
__________
Years passed. Their life was designed for invisibility. They were nomads by necessity, constantly crossing borders and swapping apartments. Jaeyi earned money as a Freelancer, an occupation that required nothing more than an anonymous email and a discreet business card.
Seulgi kept them afloat as a nurse. She’d put her surgeon dreams aside; she knew the nursing rotation offered the mobility they desperately needed, unlike the demanding, stable commitment required of a surgeon.
Canada marked their longest pause—two years. The shortest was three frantic days in Rome, cut short when Seulgi accidentally met an old college acquaintance. Jaeyi didn't hesitate: the bags were packed, and they were gone by morning.
They used to justify their life as freedom on the road. Now, the phrase sounded like a cruel joke. The belief was failing, especially for Seulgi, who felt the drag of having to reset her entire existence every few months.
Every move meant new streets, new routines, and new, empty social spaces. Her social circle was a vacuum. Fearing that a casual friendship might lead to recognition and unravel Jaeyi’s deep cover, Seulgi had to be an island. For ten years, her entire world consisted of Jaeyi and the walls of their temporary home.
It wasn't that she didn't love Jaeyi. Her devotion was absolute. But the constant effort, the vigilance, and the silence were exhausting. She was simply tired of being perpetually on the run.
“Woo Seulgi?”
The sound of her real name, spoken in Korean by a stranger in a Brockville café, was a physical blow.
The moment he spoke his purpose, denial became impossible: “I’m Benjamin, lawyer for Mrs. Yoo Min Yeong—Jaeyi’s mother.”
Don't run. Seulgi forced herself to stay seated. Running was instinct, but information was survival.
As Benjamin guided her to a private booth, Seulgi’s internal voice was frantic, rehearsing the inevitable script: New visas, new accents, new, dangerous proximity to strangers.
“Mrs. Yoo Min Yeong has passed away.”
The news registered, but Seulgi’s face remained calm. Only the iron grip on her cup signaled the tremor within. Yoo Min Yeong was the mother Jaeyi hated, yet she was the source—the woman who had gifted Jaeyi the very flesh and blood Seulgi adored and held every night.
Then the world tilted. "She left all of her assets to you, Woo Seulgi."
Seulgi simply stared. The question was a weak whisper against the ringing shock: "I'm sorry?"
"My role is simply execution," Benjamin said, his tone utterly neutral. He placed a large, intimidating brown envelope and a smaller, neat white one on the table.
"This package contains the legal documents transferring all her property into your name." He tapped the large one.
"And this," he concluded, his finger moving to the smaller envelope, "is a private letter from her, for you alone."
The way Benjamin stressed the word "you"—it hit Seulgi immediately. He wasn't talking about her, Woo Seulgi. He meant "Yoo," as in Yoo Jaeyi.
The letter was for Jaeyi.
Jaeyi's mother knew. She knew Jaeyi was alive. Worse, she knew where they were. Did Yoo Taejoon know too? Was this entire scene a sophisticated trap?
A sudden, hot rush of blood surged through Seulgi’s veins. Every survival instinct she had honed over the last ten years flared up, screaming: Danger. Caution.
The sharp buzz on her wrist was a familiar terror. Her smartwatch, synched to Jaeyi’s, had registered the steep ascent of her heart rate. She immediately pressed her palm over the device, trying to quell the frantic vibrations with sheer pressure. It was a futile gesture; the data had already been sent.
A moment later, her phone flashed Jaeyi's name. The call had come, just as she’d known it would.
Seulgi squeezed her eyes shut, already struggling to maintain a semblance of calm. Controlling her physical reactions in these situations was becoming an impossible task.
“Don’t worry,” Benjamin said, as if he could read Seulgi.
“You’re safe.”
_
Seulgi opened the door. The apartment air was thick with the rich smell of home cooking. Jaeyi was setting a ceramic pot of beef soup down on the dinner table.
Just a few hours before, Seulgi had smoothly lied to Jaeyi about her spiking heart rate, blaming it on a startled reaction caused by a colleague. And Jaeyi, bless her heart, had bought the whole story. Or maybe, Jaeyi simply chose to let it go. As long as Seulgi was still answering the video calls, smiling, and looking perfectly fine, there was no reason to press the issue or turn a small blip into a major crisis.
“You’re home?” Jaeyi greeted her, her warmth obvious.
Seulgi managed only a low hum.
Their lives were strictly takeout only. The kitchen, a monument to their transient existence, was completely bare; carrying cooking tools on their frequent moves was just too much hassle.
But recently, everything changed. Jaeyi started buying utensils. A few humble pots and a spatula appeared, purchased solely to make Seulgi a home-cooked meal.
The food itself was usually mediocre, often bordering on inedible. Yet, every effort—the clumsy chopping, the smoke detector going off—was an act of profound, inconvenient love.
Seulgi was deeply moved, not by the taste, but by the kindness and commitment behind the simple, unwanted clutter. It was the first sign of Jaeyi intentionally building a small, fragile real home for her.
For weeks, this had been Jaeyi’s routine: cooking, offering more touches, and showering Seulgi with extra affection. Her hugs were tighter now, her hands gentler. It was a constant, silent effort by Jaeyi to compensate for the unspoken stress in their lives.
Jaeyi opened her arms, and Seulgi immediately stepped into the hug with a soft smile. Seulgi leaned in and inhaled deeply.
Jaeyi's unique scent had become her favorite kind of peace. It was such a profound comfort that Seulgi secretly kept one of Jaeyi's used shirts in her work locker just to relieve stress during difficult days.
Their embrace ended with a quick, grounding kiss before Seulgi finally turned to head to the bathroom to wash up.
__
Jaeyi sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets of paper containing her mother’s shattering letter. Seulgi sat close, a comforting anchor, as Jaeyi processed the truth.
Her mother hadn't abandoned her; she had been watching from afar, keeping her safe. She had managed to put Taejoon in prison, a feat that required immense time and sacrifice.
This achievement was the ultimate signal. The letter served as a definitive ‘green light’, finally authorizing Jaeyi and Seulgi to end their long exile and return safely to Korea.
Seulgi felt the intense turmoil swirling beneath her wife's quiet surface. She pulled her into a sideways embrace, tucking Jaeyi’s head securely against her shoulder. She began to gently stroke Jaeyi’s hair and arm, and a soft kiss on her temple. A silent, steady motion meant to absorb the shock and soothe the sudden, agonizing influx of love and guilt.
Inside the envelope, tucked beneath the letter, were two items that stole their breath. Jaeyi’s and Seulgi’s passports, complete with the faces and names they were born with.
These weren't fakes—no cheap, criminal forgery. They were the real, state-issued articles.
______________
Even with Taejoon safely imprisoned and facing multiple trials, Jaeyi's fear held fast. She refused to see their return as permanent.
"It's just a visit," Jaeyi declared to Seulgi, while meticulously sealing their luggage for the flight.
"We'll come back and settle here." Jaeyi's gaze was hard and uncompromising, leaving no space for debate. After ten years, she remained the undisputed head of the household, her decisions—especially concerning their security—were absolute.
Seulgi's face betrayed a flicker of disappointment, but the deep-seated weariness and exhaustion that came from years of instability made her powerless to challenge the order.
She simply offered a slow, submissive nod and immediately lowered her eyes, focusing intently on the suitcase. This deliberate avoidance of Jaeyi's direct gaze was a quiet effort to diffuse the palpable tension building between them.
_
The moment they landed in Korea, Kyung and Hyeyoon - Seulgi's stepmother - were waiting.
Seulgi was immediately embraced with fierce, loving hugs, charged with the longing of years. Jaeyi, however, was met with stiff politeness. The hatred in their eyes was impossible to miss.
They blamed Jaeyi entirely. She had forced Seulgi into a decade-long existence of uncertainty, fear, and a terrifying, lonely freedom.
Sensing the venomous judgment, Seulgi instinctively reached for Jaeyi's hand and gave it a comforting, defiant squeeze.
Their lawyer, Kyung, stepped forward. Her work was now critical: securing a stable identity for Jaeyi and Seulgi, and representing the family in the recently reopened case of Seulgi’s father’s death, thanks to Yoo Jena’s recovered memories.
_
They convened in a spacious, impersonal hotel room, a location Jaeyi had meticulously chosen and secured herself. Her inherent paranoia was flaring. She couldn't entirely trust Kyung or Hyeyoon's repeated offers of more permanent, familial accommodation.
While the risk of physical harm was minimal, the threat of separation remained acutely present, fueled by their deep, long-simmering resentment toward her.
Jaeyi would not take that risk. Years of relying only on each other had fostered a profound, almost debilitating separation anxiety.
Kyung laid out the facts. "Your parents never registered your death. Legally, you are still just a missing person."
She paused, observing the couple. Seulgi had not ceded an inch of ground since their arrival, their hands remaining fiercely intertwined. They moved as a single, wary unit. They had even insisted on visiting the restroom together.
"They believe you're still alive," Kyung continued, a hint of dry sarcasm in her voice. "Or maybe they simply knew you wouldn't dare die so easily. Not with Seulgi tethered to you."
"You really did use Seulgi as a shield during your entire escape, didn't you?" Kyung snapped, the accusation sharp and direct.
Jaeyi’s composure cracked slightly. "My mother appointed you to defend me, not the other way around,"
"And I regret agreeing to it every second," Kyung shot back. "If it weren't for Seulgi—"
"Kyung." Seulgi's voice cut through the tension, firm and immediate. "Enough."
Kyung let out a long, ragged sigh, a clear release of the built-up frustration she’d been harboring.
She gathered the scattered files on the coffee table and shoved them into her briefcase.
"Get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow." She rose, offering a curt bow to Hyeyoon before exiting the room.
"I'll be right in the room next door if you need anything." Hyeyoon murmured to Seulgi. Her hand rested on Seulgi's.
Seulgi nodded, offering a genuine, tired smile.
The moment the door sealed shut, the tension broke. She tightened her grip on Jaeyi’s hand and sank her head onto Jaeyi's shoulder. Jaeyi responded instantly, turning her face to press a kiss into Seulgi’s forehead.
They remained on the couch, seeking refuge and comfort in the simple reality of their shared presence, a brief pause before facing the next day's mounting threats.
_
It took over an hour of deep cuddling and dozens of small, reassuring kisses for Seulgi to successfully soothe Jaeyi’s anxiety. Jaeyi finally conceded that Seulgi would be safe on her outing. A visit to her father’s grave, accompanied by Hyeyoon.
Jaeyi, meanwhile, had her own grueling appointment. A highly controlled meeting with her father, Taejoon, under the watchful eye of Kyung.
Though Jaeyi desperately needed her greatest source of strength—Seulgi—to face her greatest enemy, she absolutely refused to let Seulgi anywhere near Taejoon. In Jaeyi’s mind, that proximity was a constant, unacceptable risk.
All the way back from the burial site, Seulgi kept frequently glancing at her wrist, checking the time, acutely aware of the ticking clock measuring the separation.
"You're going to stay here, right? In Korea," Hyeyoon pressed, breaking the silence. "You're not leaving again, are you?"
Seulgi hesitated. She didn't want to crush the rising expectations of her family, but she wouldn't offer false hope either.
"I don't know yet, Auntie," Seulgi finally said gently. "Let's wait until the trial is over."
Hyeyoon stopped walking and turned to face Seulgi, taking her hand with a reassuring grip.
"Kyung says Taejonon is completely done—I mean, done done. He's locked up for good, Jaeyi's grandfather took over his hospital and cut him off from the family entirely. He's got nothing left to throw at you. Seriously, Seulgi, he's neutralized. You are free. You are really, truly free."
She looked pleadingly into Seulgi's eyes. "There is absolutely no reason for you not to come home."
"Jaeyi is my home, Auntie," Seulgi responded, her voice soft but firm.
Hyeyoon sighed, a sound heavy with worry and love. "Yes, I know, of course. So, stay here with Jaeyi. Okay?"
Seulgi smiled, moved by the depth of Hyeyoon's yearning.
As Seulgi opened her mouth to speak, her smartwatch abruptly vibrated. The screen flashed a harrowing notification, Jaeyi's heart rate was spiking rapidly.
The feature, which allowed them to share real-time physical metrics across any distance, now screamed alarm.
Years of solitary shared existence, where their only compass was the other, had sharpened their senses to a nearly psychic degree. The slightest tremor registered in their joint awareness.
Seulgi’s momentary composure shattered into panic and intense anxiety. Jaeyi was clearly in acute distress. Whether it was physical danger or the intense psychological intimidation of Taejoon.
Only one thought consumed Seulgi, how to reach Jaeyi immediately.
Leaving a stunned Hyeyoon behind, Seulgi scrambled to the car and drove away as fast as the engine would allow. Her mind was entirely consumed by dread, making her acutely unaware of her surroundings. She never noticed the sleek, black car that smoothly pulled out from a side street, shadowing her intently from behind.
_
Taejoon walked in, his hands cuffed, wearing a prison uniform, yet his face was utterly cold. He gave Jaeyi a chilling grin.
His lawyer, a man who introduced himself as Benjamin, sat beside him.
Jaeyi’s gut clenched—Benjamin. The name confirmed her fear: This was a trap. The knowledge that Taejoon was also behind her mother's death made the sight of him nauseating.
Jaeyi fought to stay calm, refusing to show weakness.
"Long time no see, Jaeyi-ah."
Kyung, sensing her turmoil, she glanced at Jaeyi.
"How's our Seulgi?" Taejoon asked, the question laced with pure malice.
Jaeyi glared at him, her eyes flashing bloodshot with raw, unrestrained rage.
"My daughter-in-law had great potential to be the greatest surgeon in the country. It’s a shame she wasted her talent."
"There is no waste," Jaeyi shot back, her voice tight. "She's doing well."
Taejon ignored the retort, his eyes predatory. "Is her life or yours going well?"
Taejoon smirked.
“Look at you, though. Back in the lion’s den. You must feel so triumphant. You think I’m caged, and you’re free.”
Jaeyi's eyes narrowed. “You are caged. And I am here because I am safe.”
“Safe? Do you remember what you ran from, Jaeyi? You called it control, obsession, poison. You called it imprisonment.”
“It was.” Jaeyi said firmly.
Taejoon's tone remains unnervingly steady.
“And what did you do to Seulgi, our dear Seulgi, over the past ten years? You took her from her home, her family, her career. You imprisoned her in your fear, didn't you? You called it freedom, but it was just a cage you both shared. A lonely, torturous cage built by your own paranoia.”
Jaeyi's hand tightens into a fist.
“That’s a lie. We were protecting ourselves. We were free.”
Taejoon gave a dark, knowing look.
“Free to run. Free to look over your shoulder. Free to rely only on you. You made yourself her entire world, didn’t you? That’s not love, Jaey-ah. That’s possession. That's my kind of obsession.”
“We are nothing alike.” Jaeyi shot.
Taejoon leans closer, the smile gone, replaced by chilling sincerity.
“Oh, we are everything alike. You hate my ego, my control, my absolute need to dictate where my loved ones belong. But look how you’ve protected Seulgi, by severing her roots and making her utterly dependent on your movements.”
“You’re a mirror, Jaeyi-ah. My most successful legacy isn't the hospital; it’s you.”
Jaeyi struggles to keep her voice even. “You don’t know anything about my life.”
“I know everything. I always knew where you were. Every apartment, every new city. You didn't escape me because you were clever, Jaeyi. I let you hide.”
Jaeyi Stares, the shock momentarily crippling her. “You’re lying.”
“I saw your plan change. You were never going to be my heir in medicine. But once you ran, I understood my real mission. It wasn't about teaching you surgery anymore. It was about shaping your character. Letting you forge the chains of control and obsession in the crucible of fear.”
Then Taejoon gave a devastating punch, his eyes gleaming with victory.
“You can call me a monster, you can put me in this box, but you can’t erase the truth. You carry me with you. That dark, possessive part of you that keeps Seulgi on a tight leash, that’s my soul whispering in your ear. You can never run from your father, Jaeyi-ah. Because you can never run from yourself.”
Taejoon laughed.
“I noticed something, even from here.”
“In the last few months, Seulgi has changed. The eagerness is gone. The spark is dulled. The exhaustion of running—that lonely, torturous freedom you imposed—it’s finally wearing her down. She’s tired of being a satellite to your paranoia.
“Did you notice that?”
“Is that why you suddenly decided to settle down in Brockville? Because you finally panicked? Because you realized she might become sick of the nomadic life and walk away from you?”
“Do you truly believe her love for you hasn’t been tainted by your control? Does she still share everything with you? Does she trust you completely?”
Taejoon glanced sideways at Benjamin, who remained seated. A sharp, unspoken command passed between them.
Without a word, Benjamin reached into his jacket and retrieved a photograph. He placed it on the table and slid it, stopping it directly in front of Jaeyi.
As Benjamin withdrew his hand, the image was unmistakable. An ultrasound scan.
“Tell me, Jaeyi-ah, my brilliant, possessive daughter. Do you recognize that?”
It is a blurry, black-and-white sonogram image.
“Did you know that Seulgi stopped taking her birth control pills months ago? Did you know that she is carrying your child right now?
Jaeyi freezes. Her sharp intake of breath is the only sound in the room. Kyung looks at the photo, then back at Jaeyi in shock.
“She didn’t tell you, did she?”
“And why, Jaeyi-ah?”
Jaeyi took the picture with trembling hands.
“Because she’s not certain about you. She knows your priority is control, not family. She knows you would demand to terminate the pregnancy, because having a child while running is an unacceptable variable in your safety calculations.”
She held the picture, her eyes glued to it. Specifically, to that tiny, unmistakable black dot—the fetal sac. Every second she spent observing the image only served to ratchet up the tension coiled deep within Jaeyi, making her hands tremble slightly.
“A child complicates your perfect little hold. It is a new heart, a new weakness, a new anchor that makes your grip on Seulgi fragile. You would struggle to keep her—and yourself—safe.”
Taejoon grins, a terrifyingly genuine expression of triumph.
“Speaking of safety... are you absolutely sure Seulgi is doing well right now?”
Jaeyi's attention snapped to Taejoon the moment the words left his mouth. Her gaze was a dagger, her eyes burning with a crimson tint.
She glanced down at her wrist. Her smartwatch was vibrating insistently, but Jaeyi initially dismissed the tremor, convinced it was merely the frantic thrum of her own escalating pulse.
But when her eyes finally registered the screen, two distinct notifications glared back. Seulgi’s heart rate was spiking, dangerously high—a rate that dwarfed her own.
As if orchestrated by the revelation, a uniformed police officer burst into the room.
Every head swiveled toward the officer. Jaeyi’s gaze, too, swung around, her eyes hardening into a desperate dare—a silent challenge to the universe to deliver the worst possible news.
“Mrs. Yoo Jaeyi. Your wife has been rushed to the hospital.”
In that single, shattering instant, the foundations of Jaeyi’s world gave way.
_
Jaeyi drove like a missile, a blur of reckless speed and sheer terror. Her foot slammed the accelerator and then the brake in a chaotic, rough rhythm, earning a chorus of blaring horns and the vicious, painful scream of tires tearing across the asphalt. Every near-miss was punctuated by a fresh wave of curses from startled drivers and pedestrians.
Kyung, who had only moments before felt a fleeting relief for having successfully slipped into the passenger seat, now realized her mistake with brutal clarity. She was a human ragdoll inside the cabin, slammed against the doors and seatbelt.
"Jaeyi! Slow down! You'll kill us both before we even make it to the hospital!" She yelled, the words dissolving into the roar of the engine.
But Kyung's voice was just a distant buzz against the singular, frantic purpose that governed Jaeyi. Her body was a machine, driven by one command: Reach Seulgi. Now.
She repeated the name like a lifeline, a desperate prayer spat out through clenched teeth.
No. Seulgi.
Please.
Please.
Please.
Stay with me.
She also spat venom at the heavens, damning the universe for using Seulgi to challenge her very existence.
How dare you.
How fucking dare you.
The instant Jaeyi’s gaze fell to her smartwatch, the world dissolved. The display, meant to show Seulgi’s pulse, declared the devastating verdict: Zero. No heartbeat detected.
The most horrific possible futures detonated behind her eyes. Jaeyi’s inner self simply collapsed. Her entire body convulsed with a violent tremble, her breath snagged in a ragged gasp, and her vision swam, forcing her hands to slacken their grip on the wheel.
“JAEYI!!” Kyung screamed.
The car, suddenly untethered and directionless, veered sharply, careening into the road divider with a deafening, metallic crunch.
_
The deployed airbags had saved them, leaving the car's nose mangled but their lives intact. Kyung coughed, shaking her head to clear the ringing silence and understand the chaos.
Jaeyi didn't take a moment to assess the damage. A searing line of pain across her temple, already slick with blood, was her only proof of the collision. She was out of the door instantly, scrambling free of the debris.
"Seulgi," the name escaped her lips, weak and barely audible. She was locked in a fierce denial, driven by the absolute necessity of seeing her wife's condition firsthand.
She attempted to stand, her body a puppet with severed strings. She swayed, took a clumsy step, and collapsed, the physical trauma overwhelming her.
Her limbs were refusing to cooperate, immobilized by shock, unable to translate her frantic will into action. But the thought of Seulgi was a searing hot poker to her inertia. Jaeyi fought her own failing body, forcing it to comply.
Injuries were footnotes. They did not exist. There was only Seulgi.
Powered by the relentless, brutal combination of her rage at the world and her fierce devotion, Jaeyi somehow hauled herself upright. She staggered, then ran, a few short meters to the hospital, a finish line she was absolutely determined to cross.
The automatic doors of the Emergency Room slid open, revealing a world of fluorescent lights, hurried footsteps, and hushed urgency. Jaeyi burst through, a dishevelled, bleeding apparition. Her eyes darted wildly, scanning every face, every gurney, every curtained-off bay.
"Seulgi! Where is Seulgi?!" Her voice was a raw, guttural cry, utterly devoid of composure. It cut through the low hum of the ER, drawing immediate attention.
A young male nurse, startled, moved towards her. "Ma'am, you're bleeding. What happened?"
Jaeyi shoved him away, her strength fueled by desperation. "Seulgi! My wife! Where is she?! I need to see her! Is she… is she okay?!" Her voice cracked on the last word, dissolving into a ragged sob.
Another nurse, older and with a calmer demeanor, approached cautiously. "Please, ma'am, you need to calm down. We can help you—"
"No! I don't need help! I need Seulgi!" Jaeyi's voice escalated into a full-blown scream, her hands flailing.
"Where is she?! Tell me! Is she alive?! Is she breathing?!" She grabbed the older nurse's arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "Tell me! Tell me now!"
A doctor, his face etched with concern, stepped forward. "Ma'am, please. You're in shock. Let us treat your injuries first." He gestured towards her bleeding head. "You've had a bad head wound."
"I don't care about my head!" Jaeyi shrieked, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the blood. "My wife! Seulgi! Woo Seulgi! Where is she?! Is she… is she okay?!" Her knees threatened to buckle, but she fought to stay upright, her eyes still frantically searching. "Please! Someone! Anyone! Just tell me where my wife is!"
Her voice echoed through the ER, a heartbroken plea that chilled even the most hardened medical professionals.
_
Seulgi sat on the emergency cot, her vulnerability strangely offset by the two quiet, well-built men flanking her. Her left arm, injured in the scuffle, was now expertly bandaged. That was the simple explanation for the terror Jaeyi had experienced: the smartwatch, removed for treatment, was lying inertly beside her.
As the doctor finished the final wrap around her arm, a piercing, familiar sound cut through the clinical calm: a scream. Jaeyi.
Seulgi didn't hesitate. She swung her legs off the bed and bolted, pushing past the suited bodyguards toward the noise.
She spotted her instantly. Jaeyi, staggering, her face marred by blood, collapsing. The shock of seeing her wife battered was a physical blow. Seulgi ran.
"Jaeyi-ah!"
At the sound of Seulgi's voice, Jaeyi’s head snapped up. She saw Seulgi approaching, and with a superhuman surge of will, hauled herself upright. She ran.
Relief, potent and sudden, instantly dissolved the fragile strength holding Jaeyi together. She crashed into Seulgi, wrapping her in a desperate, suffocating embrace, clinging to her as if gravity itself might pull Seulgi away.
"You're here," Jaeyi choked out, the words ragged with tears and the residue of panic. "Thank you. God, thank you. You're still here."
"Please don't go. Don't go anywhere without me. Don't ever leave me," she sobbed into Seulgi’s shoulder.
Seulgi just nodded, rubbing Jaeyi's back gently.
When Seulgi pulled back, her eyes immediately focused on the crimson streak on Jaeyi’s temple.
"You're bleeding, my God. What happened?" Seulgi held Jaeyi's face, inspecting Jaeyi's wounds.
"It's nothing," Jaeyi dismissed it, her attention already elsewhere.
With infinite tenderness, Jaeyi placed one palm on Seulgi's lower abdomen, then knelt down, resting her cheek there.
“How about our 'Beetle'? You must have been so scared, little one. I'm sorry.” Jaeyi whispered, gently caressing Seulgi's stomach.
Of course.
Jaeyi knew about the pregnancy. She was the one who had urged Seulgi to stop the pills months ago.
Of course.
Seulgi had shared every single quiet dream about their future family.
Of course.
Jaeyi granted her wish, because she wanted it just as much.
Of course.
Seulgi had always been transparent about her fears and anxieties.
Of course.
Jaeyi listened, and she understood.
Of course.
Yoo Taejon was utterly wrong about them.
Because of course.
Yoo Jaeyi was not her father.
Kyung finally arrived, looking utterly spent and wrecked, her suit a mess.
"Seulgi, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Kyung," Seulgi assured her, gently stroking Jaeyi’s head, who was still kneeling at her belly.
"Thank God," Kyung sighed, relief making her weak.
Jaeyi rose to her feet, her eyes moving to Seulgi’s bandaged arm. "What happened?"
"A minibus cut off my car. Some men got out, intending to—well, intending to hurt me." She looked at the two men in dark suits. "But then they intervened."
The two men stepped forward and bowed in unison to Jaeyi, their faces utterly neutral.
"We were dispatched by Mr. Benjamin to ensure Mrs. Woo Seulgi's safety while she was here in Korea. We maintained distance to avoid drawing attention, shadowing her discreetly."
"Benjamin?" Jaeyi's shock was palpable.
"Yes. Benjamin. The sleeper agent your mother installed years ago to dismantle Yoo Taejon from the inside."
"Holy sh—" Kyung cut herself off with a hand clamped over her mouth.
______________
The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the meticulously manicured lawn of the late Yoo Min Yeong’s mansion. The air was still, scented with freshly cut grass and the faint, sweet perfume of jasmine.
Seulgi was the picture of serene domesticity. She lay back on the soft grass, one leg stretched out, the other bent, a book resting half-forgotten on her chest. Her free hand idly stroked the rich black hair of the woman beside her.
Jaeyi was sprawled out, her head cushioned on Seulgi's thigh. Her hand, warm and familiar, was tracing lazy circles on the gentle, swelling curve of Seulgi’s abdomen.
Jaeyi leaned closer to the bump and spoke in a deep, conspiratorial whisper.
“Hey, future business partner. This is a public service announcement: when you get out, Mommy Jaeyi is buying the snacks. Momma Seulgi is very strict about vegetables. Choose wisely. Also, if you’re a kicker, please aim for my chin, not my wife's bladder. Thanks, buddy."
Seulgi snorted a laugh. "He's going to listen to me. I carry him."
Jaeyi looked up at Seulgi, her eyes full of devotion.
"That’s fair. You carry the whole world, actually. I just carry the credit card." She paused, her smile turning genuine and soft. "Seriously, I love this. I love the quiet. I love the messy reality of us.”
“I love us too.” Seulgi said softly. She reached and caressed Jaeyi's jaw with her fingers.
Jaeyi pushed herself up onto her elbow, intending to seal the sentiment with a kiss.
Suddenly, a bright red rubber ball sailed through the air and thwacked Jaeyi right on the back of the head.
"Oof!"
Jaeyun, their six-year-old son, stood a few yards away, hands on his hips, an impish grin splitting his face.
"No kissing Mommy! Momma Seulgi is my girlfriend today! You have to kiss your own pillow!"
Jaeyi rubbed the back of her head, feigning outrage.
"Oh, you little traitor! You've challenged the alpha of this household! You do not interrupt Momma's affections! Prepare to pay!"
Jaeyi launched herself to her feet, adopting a dramatic, goofy scowl. "I'm coming to get you, monster!"
Jaeyun squealed with delight, turning on his heel and sprinting away across the expansive lawn.
"You can't catch me, slow Mommy!"
"Oh, yes, I can! I run major corporations! Chasing a six-year-old is light exercise!"
She chased him, pretending to lumber with exaggerated effort until she caught him near a towering oak tree. They tumbled to the ground in a messy, giggling heap, Jaeyi trapping him with light tickles until they were both rolling in the soft grass, their laughter echoing across the quiet estate.
Seulgi watched them from her spot, a gentle smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Her hand moved from her book to her stomach, gently rubbing the 'Second Beetle' within.
The scene—the sounds of her wife's booming, happy laugh and her son's shrieks of joy—settled deep into her heart. It was a beautiful, imperfect, messy, and loud love. She was full, content, and utterly consumed by happiness.