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The pregnancy test sat on the edge of the sink like a verdict. Two stark, pink lines. You’d been staring at it for ten minutes, your heart doing a frantic, panicked tango against your ribs. You and Jeongin had only been together for six months. Six wonderful, dizzying, head-over-heels months, but six months nonetheless. You weren’t supposed to be here. Not yet.
You heard the front door open, his cheerful call of “I’m home! And I brought your favorite tteokbokki!” followed by the rustle of a plastic bag. Panic seized you. You quickly snatched the test, wrapped it in a wad of toilet paper, and shoved it into your pocket before walking out of the bathroom, trying to school your features into something resembling normalcy.
He was in the kitchen, setting the container on the counter, his back to you. He turned with a bright, sunny smile that made your chest ache. “There’s my girl. You look tired. Long day?”
“Something like that,” you managed, your voice thin.
His smile faltered slightly as he got a better look at you. He closed the distance between you, his gentle hands coming up to cup your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? You’re pale.”
You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t just say the words. So, you did the only thing you could think of. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the crumpled wad of toilet paper, placing it in his open palm.
He looked at it, confused. “Uh… a gift?”
“Just… open it,” you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut.
You heard the rustle of paper, a moment of silence, and then a sharp, in-drawn breath. You forced your eyes open to see him staring at the little plastic stick, his face a canvas of shock. His brow furrowed, his lips parted slightly. He looked from the test to you, then back again.
“This… this is a joke, right?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Innie.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just kept staring, and you watched as the initial shock morphed into something else—a flicker of fear, of uncertainty. He looked so young in that moment, so utterly out of his depth. He was the baby of his group, the beloved maknae, and right now, he looked every bit the part.
“I… I don’t…” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not… I’m not ready for this. I’m just a kid myself.”
The words were a punch to the gut, exactly what you’d been dreading, but you couldn’t blame him. It was the truth.
“I know,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “We can figure it out. Whatever you want to do, I’ll—”
“No,” he interrupted, his gaze finally hardening with resolve. He looked down at the test again, his jaw tightening. “No. I need to think.”
He spent the rest of the evening in a quiet daze, but it wasn’t a cold silence. It was a processing silence. He ate the tteokbokki he’d brought you, feeding you bites with a distant, thoughtful expression. He was quiet, but he didn’t leave your side, his hand finding yours and holding on tight, as if anchoring himself to you.
The shift happened a week later, at your first official appointment. The doctor handed you the grainy, black-and-white ultrasound photo, and you watched as Jeongin stared at it. He was silent, his thumb tracing the outline of the tiny, jellybean-shaped blur. Then, he looked up at the screen where the live image was moving, a little flicker of a heartbeat pulsing on the monitor.
Something in his face changed. The fear, the uncertainty, the boyish panic—it all just… vanished. In its place was a fierce, protective fire you’d never seen before. He was no longer looking at a problem; he was looking at his child.
“Is that… the heart?” he asked the doctor, his voice low and serious.
The doctor pointed. “That’s it right there. Strong and steady, just like it should be.”
Jeongin’s hand tightened in yours. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen for the rest of the appointment. On the drive home, he was quiet again, but this time it was different. He was determined.
That night, he became a man on a mission. He pulled out his laptop, a notebook, and a pen. “Okay,” he said, all business. “We need a plan. First, nutrition. What can you eat? What can’t you eat? I read that folic acid is important. Are you taking prenatal vitamins? Which ones? We need the best ones.”
For the next three hours, he grilled you. He asked about every symptom, every craving, every ache. He made lists of questions to ask the doctor, researched the best maternity pillows, and compared car seat safety ratings with the intensity of someone studying for a final exam. He was trying, with every fiber of his being, to be ready.
At the next appointment, when the nurse brought out the needle for a blood test, you flinched. Without a word, Jeongin was there, taking your other hand and interlacing your fingers. He looked straight into your eyes, his own gaze steady and reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m right here. Just squeeze my hand. Don’t look.” He held your gaze, a small, brave smile on his face, and you knew he was trying to be braver than he felt, for you.
One evening, you were curled up on the couch, your head in his lap. He was reading a book on pregnancy out loud, his voice a low, soothing rumble. He stopped mid-sentence, and you looked up to see him staring at your stomach, a soft, wondrous expression on his face.
“What is it?” you asked.
“I just… I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his free hand coming to rest gently on your belly. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to ruin everything because I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“And now?” you prompted, covering his hand with yours.
He looked at you, his eyes shining with a love so deep and profound it took your breath away. He wasn’t the same boy who had walked in a month ago, terrified and uncertain. He was still Jeongin—your sweet, goofy, loving Jeongin—but he was stronger now, steadier. He had grown up overnight, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. For you. For your family.
“Now,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, then another to your stomach. “Now I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you both have everything. I’m going to be the best dad. I promise.”
And looking at him, at the fierce determination and unwavering love in his eyes, you didn’t doubt him for a second.