NOVEL NEXT chapter 118
As if screaming had wrung the last drop of strength from him, Joo Taehyun slowly collapsed—just like the moment he’d clutched his stomach and blacked out.
The frail hand that had been gripping the edge of the hospital bed slipped and fell to the cold floor with a dull sound.
And there, just like that, Joo Taehyun cried in silence. Without end.
Seo Baekhan was frozen in place, overwhelmed by the sight of his tears. The strange exhilaration he’d felt after his first act of rebellion had long vanished. He hadn’t even imagined that to Taehyun, his impulsive move might have been nothing but a mistake.
“…Joo Taehyun.”
“…”
“Taehyun, you’re going to hurt yourself even more if you keep this up.”
He reached out to help, unwilling to let a patient stay crumpled on the floor, but Taehyun’s hand slapped him away, cold and unyielding.
“I—”
“Don’t say—hic—anything.”
Whether it was an apology or an excuse, Taehyun didn’t want to hear it. He wiped his tear-soaked face, silently pleading for Baekhan not to mention the child.
Taehyun had never once spoken about the baby—not just in front of Baekhan, but even with the medical staff. He hadn’t asked a single question.
Not just that. He hadn’t cried. He hadn’t even shown signs of struggling. If anything, he’d seemed more preoccupied with figuring out how to end their relationship.
He’d calmly assessed his condition. Asked about future pheromone interactions as if from a distance.
So Baekhan had assumed he was okay. That he hadn’t drowned in grief, that he’d recovered quickly. He’d even thought—selfishly—that it was better this way. That it was easier Taehyun only wanted to talk about ending things between them.
But Taehyun himself hadn’t even realized how gutted he was inside.
It had been a clear mistake. A grave misjudgment. How could anyone go through a pregnancy and miscarriage and come out unaffected?
“…I’m sorry.”
Sorry. Saying the word aloud made it sound especially strange. Sorry rolled awkwardly in his mouth, scraping around like something dry and unfamiliar. As he repeated the word in his mind, Baekhan gently placed a hand on Taehyun’s shoulder.
Now that he thought about it, this was probably the first time he’d spoken of the child itself. He’d mentioned the miscarriage only when discussing Taehyun’s medical status, but never had he truly addressed the baby as a subject in conversation with him.
“I’m sorry… about the baby too. I mean it. Truly.”
“…”
“And for bringing it up in front of reporters, without thinking—”
“Sorry?”
Taehyun echoed the word under his breath, scoffing. Then the scoff unraveled into a laugh—bitter, mocking. A laugh more painful than crying.
“…Just go. Please. Leave.”
It was probably the most sincere apology Baekhan had ever offered. And yet it seemed to land completely wrong.
No, it wasn’t just that. It felt like he'd said the exact wrong thing—like he'd once again chosen the wrong answer.
By now, even Baekhan was flustered. Maybe the public confrontation with Kang Bunam hadn’t pleased Taehyun. That much he could accept.
Whatever risks came from that stunt—he’d bear them alone. Kyunghan had seemed pleased enough, but now, hearing how horrifying it was for Taehyun to think of people talking about the baby again—yes, that too, Baekhan understood.
That was why he apologized. Why he wanted to talk it through, to help Taehyun open up, to finally address the weight he was carrying. But Taehyun’s reaction was beyond anything Baekhan had anticipated. He was angrier now than when Baekhan had dismissed the news of the pregnancy.
“Get out!”
Taehyun wobbled like a branch in the wind, and Baekhan caught him. The moment they made contact, Taehyun shuddered like he’d been touched by something filthy, and lashed out against Baekhan’s chest and back with everything he had. Baekhan held him tightly, silently enduring the blows. None of it hurt. Not even a little.
“I get that you’re upset, but in this condition, you need me here.”
“Looking at your face just makes me sick. Leave—just go!”
No one knew better than Seo Baekhan how powerful an imprinted partner’s pheromones could be. Just being near Taehyun’s scent was enough to make his wounds heal like new.
“I get it. But you need to get better first. Otherwise you won’t be able to do anything.”
“…”
“Let’s focus on recovery first. One thing at a time.”
When he carefully reached out to lift Taehyun onto the bed, the younger man’s limbs hung limp. It wasn’t that he’d accepted Baekhan’s reasoning—he just had no energy left to resist.
“Dr. Woo said the wider the skin contact, the better. So even if it’s uncomfortable, hang in there a bit.”
Baekhan sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Taehyun gently against him. With the younger man resting in his arms, he focused entirely on the waves of his pheromones.
Taehyun’s thin back rose and fell unevenly against his chest.
“You’ve gotten way too thin, Taehyun.”
For once, Baekhan’s usually silver tongue failed him. Had he ever been this thrown off in front of Taehyun before? Nothing the younger man said matched his expectations. Every reply swerved away from what Baekhan had hoped for. He couldn’t manage a real conversation—only these empty, surface-level exchanges.
Still, he was genuinely startled by Taehyun’s physical state.
He wasn’t exaggerating. Right now, he could probably lift Taehyun with one hand. A grown man nearly his height shouldn’t feel this light. Baekhan clicked his tongue internally and caught Taehyun again before he slipped down like water.
“Your hormone levels don’t look bad.”
“…Hyung.”
He tried changing the subject, steering away from what had upset Taehyun. But the way Taehyun called his name—shaken, hesitant—made his heart sink.
“What is it? Are you in pain?”
Taehyun clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to steady his ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) breathing. It wasn’t hyperventilation, exactly. His hands and feet seemed responsive.
“Do you feel nauseous?”
“…”
“Let’s get you to the bathroom. Or if you can’t, it’s okay to let it out here.”
“…That’s not it, hyung.”
His voice trembled like a candle in the wind. His pheromones surged violently alongside it. If someone like Kim Seungjun were here, even he would’ve felt compelled to give Taehyun anything he wanted.
“Call Dr. Woo, please.”
Baekhan had already intended to. He gently laid Taehyun back down, propping him on his side in case of vomiting, and spoke firmly.
“Don’t hold it in. Just let it out.”
“…”
“If you feel dizzy, or even the slightest change—tell me right away.”
Taehyun looked up at him with hollow eyes, tears falling from his face like a habit.
“Forget that. I want an imprint scan… No—test my pheromones again.”
“Where are you hurting?”
For him to request a pheromone test on his own—and so specifically—it meant his condition was worse than Baekhan had thought. He pressed the call button, trying not to show the panic creeping in. If he looked anxious, Taehyun might panic too.
“The more details you give, the better. Try to describe what you’re feeling.”
Baekhan calmly listed symptoms of pheromone shock: sudden flashes of light, tingling in the fingertips or toes, a sense of heat spreading through the body…
But Taehyun said nothing. Face pale, eyes turned away, like he couldn’t bear to even look at Baekhan.
“If it’s something genetic, I should explain it to Dr. Woo. That would help him understand the situati—”
“…No. It’s nothing.”
Taehyun murmured, tears falling like stones from broken ducts.
“I just don’t feel… anything anymore.”
“You don’t feel anything—even when I hold your hand like this? Nothing at all?”
Was it nerve damage? That would be serious…
He pressed the call button again, wiped the tears from Taehyun’s eyes, checked his pupils, and poked around to test peripheral responses. Everything was normal.
“No nausea?”
“It’s not that. I just… I can’t feel your pheromones anymore.”
“Ah. It could be temporary anosmia. But as you know, pheromones don’t only transmit through scent—”
“No. It’s like I’ve turned into a Beta. Even when I’m touching you, I can’t feel anything.”
“…What?”