With the question-marked Eunwon at his back, forcing his reluctant feet to move, Muyoung arrived at… a small, quiet psychotherapy clinic.
The reason he’d been diligently stamping his attendance here since Tuesday — four days straight now, even paying quadruple the nighttime surcharge for after-hours sessions —was clear.
In Muyoung’s big hand, as he sat across from the counselor, was a thin receipt paper, crumpled from being fondled for five days straight.
「[IM University Hospital] Seo Eunwon : Traitology Department Examination 1) 1st floor blood draw room 2) B1 pheromone measurement room」
The date and time stamped under the barcode was Sunday — the last day they’d spent the heat cycle together — right after Eunwon had fled the hotel.
At the memorial park.
When he’d opened Eunwon’s wallet to pay respects to his father, Muyoung had found this loaded little scrap of paper, and immediately contacted Director Shim — the personal secretary who handled his private affairs (mostly stalking Eunwon).
And the reply he’d gotten by text ten minutes later was enough to hurl his mood — which had been loosening up during his not-quite-a-date with Eunwon — straight to rock bottom.
—*Went to the ER, requested an omega trait examination, filed for a trait correction, and was prescribed emergency contraception, I’m told.*
Recalling that moment of despair, when everything had gone black before his eyes, Muyoung twisted his brow as if in great pain.
On top of a face already grown gaunt over the past few days, the murderous expression layered over it gave off an aura so sinister it felt like he could tear a person apart with his eyes alone.
Not missing the shift in that murderous expression at the question "How were you today?", the counselor swallowed dryly and carefully opened his mouth.
"Was it painful for you again today, facing that person?"
"…It was excruciating."
"Have you thought about the clear reason you feel this pain?"
He’d accepted this client — who made his desire to go home lose to quadruple pay — with a capitalist’s smile, but the moment the man walked through the door, Counselor A was already intimidated by his first impression.
A dominant alpha at a glance, insane visuals, a human being who seemed to lack nothing. Those visuals, that physique, that wealth, and a social standing that apparently came with a personal secretary in tow.
What on earth could he possibly need counseling for, paying nighttime surcharges without blinking — it was burdensome. Having been paid obscenely, he felt he ought to do something properly for it, and tried recommending various psychological tests first — but the man said he didn’t need any of that, just wanted someone to listen.
*Ah, so he needs a bamboo grove to shout "the king’s ears are donkey ears" into, not counseling.*
He’d settled his mind with that understanding, feeling more at ease.
But funnily enough, the man had barely said a word for four days straight. Sitting with his legs crossed, as handsome as a model in a pictorial, he’d only give perfunctory answers to the counselor’s questions, lost in thought for long stretches. Then, guarding a suffocating, heavy silence, he’d stand up and leave the moment time was up.
Then yesterday, at last, the information the counselor had painstakingly acquired was—
something like an internet trashy-dating story: *"Spent the cycle together, thought my lover was pregnant and rushed the marriage, but they’d already taken emergency contraception long ago. Found out after the marriage. Now it hurts every time I see their face."*
Ah, so he was angry because he’d married out of responsibility thinking there was a baby, but it turned out there never was one. His lover lied and deceived him, so of course he’d be angry. He must have come to sort out his feelings because he wants to break up?
The counselor gently offered his own conjecture, having organized the situation to his satisfaction.
"There can be many reasons for a painful heart. If you went through something like that… feeling negative emotions toward the one who deceived you — anger, betrayal — is only natural."
Before the words had even finished, Cha Muyoung — who’d been pressing his forehead with his fingers, staring at the floor — lifted his gaze sharply upward. At the dominant alpha’s deep, steady eyes meeting his properly for nearly the first time in three days, the counselor felt an icy chill run down his spine.
"No. That kid never deceived me about anything. I’m not in pain because I feel betrayed or angry."
"Then…?"
"Because I’m sorry."
*Oh…?*
Naturally, like most men — or alphas — in such cases, the counselor had been guessing the reason for his client’s pain was anger and betrayal. At the unexpected answer, his eyes lit up.
Toward the counselor, Cha Muyoung let out a deep sigh — and at last, for the first time, spilled the feelings that had been festering inside him for the past four days.
"How hard and frightening the road to the hospital must have been for someone so soft-hearted and timid. Trembling with fear, swallowing that harsh pill alone, dragging his exhausted body home… I left him to endure those miserable hours alone, knowing nothing. I’m furious at myself for being so pathetically useless I could die."
"Ahh…?"
"It must have been a pregnancy. And I’m sorry to the child who vanished without even implanting."
"…"
If it never even implanted… then it wasn’t, strictly speaking, a "baby." Not even something to feel sorry toward.
But the professional counselor decided to offer a gentler comfort to the VVIP who had, in just four days — a mere four hours — delivered him a most abundant sense of capitalistic satisfaction.
"You needn’t trouble your heart over something that never became a pregnancy. Even setting aside that it was a cycle… pregnancy isn’t something that’s unconditionally established by a single act of intercourse…"
But Cha Muyoung shook his head firmly.
"I’m a dominant alpha. It was definitely a pregnancy. And if I had gotten my head straight and handled things properly, it would never have come to this — it would absolutely have seen the light of the world."
"…Ahh…?"
"It would have been insanely beautiful. If it took after Seo Eunwon…"
"…Ahh…"
"Anyway, so… I find that person pitiful and wretched, and it hurts every time I see him. I want to hold him and soothe him, ask him if it was so hard…"
As he did, he briefly covered his eyes with his hand and fell silent, so the counselor discreetly pulled out a tissue and offered it. But he politely declined with an upturned palm, and instead took out a white handkerchief, neatly folded in advance, from his jacket’s inner pocket.
It looked like… just plain white cotton, a bit too plainly white for a man in such a perfect suit — but well, tastes differ. Cotton 100% is definitely best for underwear and handkerchiefs.
Whether he was wiping tears with it or smelling it, the counselor couldn’t tell exactly — but once he’d calmed down a little, the counselor spoke again.
"Hmm, if your relationship with your spouse hasn’t gone wrong because of this, giving him a good hug and letting him know you understand his heart would be a very good comfort. You seem to have plenty of affection, and the attachment looks excellent… but what exactly is the problem…?" *If you want to hug him, why not just hug him?*
At the counselor’s genuinely puzzled question, Muyoung tucked the white handkerchief back into his jacket’s inner pocket, composed his expression and posture with a deep sigh.
"While comforting him like that."
"…Like that?"
"The moment I register that the person is… not pregnant now."
"Each… moment?"
"I want to pounce on him."
"That pretty, pitiful, dear, wretched baby right in front of me — thinking such things about him, I’m… disgusted with myself, like a beast led only by desire. That’s what hurts."
"So you’re saying you love your spouse very much."
"Yes."
"You really do… love him a lot."
"I told you I do."
In the end, the reason Cha Muyoung — having bound Eunwon tight with marriage and contract exactly as he’d so desperately wished, delivering him intact to his own bed — had spent every day wandering outside with a sad face, unable to touch so much as a wisp of "honey, darling, baby, apple, honey, darling," was this one thing.
Afraid that, in his brief carelessness, he’d act like a beast in heat before he’d properly comforted and begged forgiveness from the poor Seo Eunwon who’d had to run to the hospital and swallow that harsh pill — afraid of becoming an even more pathetic man, a pathetic alpha, to him. He was performing a tearful "self-imposed abstinence" like a punishment, battling the enormous, uncontrollable desire inside him.
To a third party it sounded excruciatingly embarrassing, but to him it was a genuinely painful, tearful confession.
Deep in the night.
11:43 PM.
The session — already longer than usual — long over, Muyoung sat in a quiet bar, steeped in thought, letting time slip by.
He hadn’t touched a sip of the expensive liquor he’d ordered as his seat fee, but Muyoung’s steps as he carefully passed through the front door at home were as heavy as a drunk man’s, full of fatigue.
Very quietly, he entered the living room. His gaze went to the familiar spot.
As always today, Eunwon was curled up asleep on the living room sofa, stubbornly refusing the comfortable bed.
It was a sofa as roomy and plush as a decent bed, fitting for one part of the grand, lavish penthouse — but seeing the omega asleep with only a thin blanket, not even a pillow, feeling sorry for him was close to an alpha’s instinct. Only natural.
Seo Eunwon, who became pitiful and shabby on cue the moment he took his eyes off him for a second.
Knowing that, yet failing to take proper care of the kid for four days now. Four days now, too, of carrying the pitifully sleeping Eunwon to bed and planting him there.
Like he’d confessed to the counselor — afraid that facing the kid now would wound him again before any comfort — he’d been leaving him to fall asleep alone on the sofa, using the excuse of suppressing his own heart, when simply laying him in bed and holding him to sleep would have done.
Pathetic, really.
Muyoung knew as well as anyone that he needed to get his heart together quickly, for Seo Eunwon’s sake. So let this foolish wandering end today, exactly. Let him not waste the first weekend they spent married together.
From tomorrow, he’d be wide awake and play the role of Eunwon’s tender husband, dependable alpha — the one he’d dreamed of for so long. Resolving this firmly—
Muyoung knelt beside the soundly sleeping Eunwon.
*How can even your sleeping face be this pretty.*
Gazing at Eunwon’s white face with tender eyes, he was just about to brush back the hair tickling his forehead and poke the soft cheek for no reason when—
"…"
"…Did I wake you?"
Until yesterday, Eunwon had slept on, dead to the world, no matter how many dozen times his cheek was poked — but today, for some reason, his eyes snapped open sparkling before the finger even touched, and quick as a kitten eyeing its prey, he shot out a hand and snatched Muyoung’s index finger.
"…I’ve been waiting."
"I told you to go to sleep first, why—"
"Today I really… have something I need to tell you, and ask you."
"…"
Seeing no confidence in himself to readily answer whatever was asked, Muyoung kept a heavy silence — and Eunwon, pressing his lips tight, hesitated a little before opening his mouth.
"..I heard you took care of Mom’s new-drug treatment costs. The hospital called earlier —treatment starts next week."
"Ah, that—"
"Thank you so much… And I got the 5 billion won you sent, too."
"Oh—"
"I… thank you for that, too. It was the first time in my life I’d seen that big a number in my account. It was fascinating."
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