Chapter Text
“You’re pregnant, Mr. Seo.”
Pregnant?
Jeongwoo blinked. “That... that's not possible. I’m a man.”
“I understand this might be hard to process,” the doctor said gently, clutching the tablet in her hands. “But this isn’t the first case we’ve seen. You’ve developed a rare condition—one that’s created a womb inside your body. We’re still researching the cause. So far, you’re only the second recorded case in our hospital.”
Jeongwoo sat frozen in stunned silence, the words barely registering. His thoughts scattered, crashing into one another in a blur of disbelief, confusion, and fear.
“If you’d like,” the doctor continued softly, “we can arrange for an abortio—”
“No.”
The word left him before he could think. His voice trembled, his hands rigid in his lap. “I’ll… I’ll keep it.”
“T-that’s great! Can I brief you on the details? Since your body is changing, you might experience some strange symptoms that usually only women go through.”
“Symptoms? Like w-what?”
“Well, there’s the usual, unusual cravings, morning sickness, mood swings… Do you perhaps have a partner who can take care of you? Times like this can be difficult to face alone.”
Her words struck something in him. Partner.
Steven.
Right. He had asked Jeongwoo to meet up today. Somehow, with everything that had just happened, Jeongwoo had almost forgotten.
The air in the clinic suddenly felt too heavy, too sterile, like it was pressing down on him.
“I—I have to go,” he blurted out, already fumbling for his bag with trembling fingers. “Can we continue this next time?”
“Of course, Mr. Seo. Don’t forget your follow-up next week!” the doctor called after him.
But he was already gone.
Jeongwoo didn’t know where his feet were taking him—only that he had to move, had to breathe, had to get away from fluorescent lights and clean white walls and words that didn’t make sense.
The city blurred around him as he ran, the ache in his legs grounding him in something real. And then, finally, through the fog of adrenaline and panic, he saw it.
Steven’s car. Parked by the gas station. Just like he said.
Jeongwoo slowed, his chest tight, his palms damp. His clothes clung to him, sweat soaking through the fabric. And when their eyes met through the window, something in him nearly cracked open.
He climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door gently behind him. Inside, it was too quiet. The kind of silence that holds its breath.
He needed to speak. He needed to tell Steven. About the baby. About everything. Maybe this wasn’t how they pictured having a family, but Steven had always said he wanted kids. Maybe—
“Let’s break up, Jeongwoo.”
The words dropped like a stone into still water.
“…What? All of a sudden?” Jeongwoo let out a dry yet soft laugh, as he looked Steven in the eye.
But Steven didn’t look at him. His eyes were fixed on the windshield. “It’s not… sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
Jeongwoo’s throat closed. His fingers curled into fists in his lap, nails biting into skin.
“I just… don’t love you anymore.”
For a moment, Jeongwoo could only sit there. Staring. He didn’t cry. Couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Everything inside him already felt too full, too loud, too raw, too much.
“Can i at least know why?” he murmured.
And then the rain began to fall.
It started soft, like a whisper against the glass. Then it grew louder, steadier, until the thunder rolled in and the world outside disappeared in streaks of water.
Neither of them moved.
The silence between them grew heavier than the storm.
Steven didn’t answer, but Jeongwoo could see his fingers gripped on the wheel , tight, his fingers were turning white. It was as if Steven was holding back from saying or doing something he shouldn’t.
“I’ll just go then,” Jeongwoo whispered, his voice barely audible, flat, drained. He was too tired to beg for answers from someone who no longer loved him.
His hand reached for the door handle, fingers curling around the cold metal. Slowly, he started to pull, but then paused. Just for a moment.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steven shift. Saw his head turn. His mouth parted, just slightly, as if to speak.
Jeongwoo froze.
He waited.
Just one word, he thought. Just one word and I’ll stay.
Seconds passed.
But Steven said nothing.
So Jeongwoo opened the door.
Rain poured over him instantly, soaking his hair, his clothes, his skin. But he didn’t flinch. He stepped out into the storm like it was nothing because compared to what he felt inside.
He didn’t look back.
Steven never called out to him.
And as Jeongwoo walked away, one hand trembling over his still-flat stomach, all he could hear were the words echoing again and again in his head.
Words he never thought he’d hear from Steven.
Words he would’ve given anything to forget.
Words that marked the day Steven left him, and the same day Jeongwoo realized he’d be carrying the last thing they made together, all on his own.