Chapter 85: Gone

With his vision washed white and blurred, Han-geon staggered out of the building.

He didn’t even know what state of mind he’d been in when he got into the taxi.

He flagged down one that happened to be passing and threw himself into the back seat.

A shrill ringing echoed incessantly in his ears.

The hands resting on his knees were trembling so violently it felt unreal.

Through the muffled ringing, an irritated voice suddenly cut in.

“Hey, what, are you hard of hearing or something?

I asked you where you’re going!”

“…S-sorry.

I’m sorry.”

Han-geon snapped back to himself and barely managed to state his destination.

Even that left him breathless, stuttering several times as he spoke.

The driver, who kept glancing at him through the rearview mirror as if thinking he’d run into yet another strange passenger, finally started the car.

His whole body shook.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Han-geon clenched his teeth.

His gaze fell on the plastic bag looped around his wrist.

Mixed in among the hangover remedies was that thing… which once again entered his field of vision.

Two clear lines, unmistakable, impossible to deny.

Han-geon squeezed his eyes shut and let out a painful breath.

He covered his face with both hands and leaned his head back against the seat.

How… how could this have happened…?

As far as Han-geon could remember, ever since he had become an Omega, Eun-gyeol had always used contraception.

So then why.

When.

From where did it all go wrong…?

Han-geon sank into a long, heavy silence.

No matter how hard he tried to endure it, a pained groan leaked through his clenched teeth.

Now that it had already happened, when it had happened, why, or what exactly had gone wrong no longer really mattered.

What mattered was the result this test stick was pointing to with brutal clarity.

With hands gone cold, Han-geon rubbed his face again and again, staring blankly out the window.

Just moments ago, the early evening streets had been bustling and ordinary, but now they pressed in on him with almost violent cruelty.

He was in such agony, as though time had stopped for him alone… and yet the world kept turning on, indifferent.

He couldn’t believe it.

A sudden thought crossed his mind—what if this was all just a dream?

What if the shock of becoming an Omega was still lingering, and this was just another nightmare born from it?

Yes, it was possible.

Clinging to that thought, he pinched his thigh hard with his fingers.

Even as a mercilessly vivid pain bloomed, he kept pinching himself over and over.

Eventually, the hand that had been tormenting him without purpose fell still.

Suddenly it felt as though something lodged itself in his solar plexus, making it hard to breathe, and he pummeled his chest with his fist again and again.

With each dull thud, it felt as though the lump festering in his chest was being crushed apart, and he repeated it several times.

Han-geon squeezed his eyes shut tight, forcing himself to steady his ragged breathing.

At last, a familiar alley came into view.

After paying the fare, Han-geon slowly stepped out of the taxi.

With trembling hands, he unlocked the door and entered the apartment.

It was nothing more than that, yet he stumbled again and again.

As the door shut behind him, Han-geon felt completely cut off from the world.

The strength he had wrung out of himself with everything he had ended there.

He stood blankly in the entryway, unable even to think of turning on the lights.

The bag slipped from his hand and dropped to the floor.

Clatter!

The loud sound echoed through the entryway as the sensor light flickered out, plunging the apartment back into darkness.

Something swelled up inside him to the breaking point, choking his throat.

He screwed his eyes shut as if wringing them dry.

The moment he released his lips, which he had been biting until his jaw ached, a sharp gasp burst from his mouth.

That was the signal—something hot boiled over violently from deep inside.

“H-hk… ugh… hngh…”

Han-geon collapsed right there in the entryway.

His pitiful sobs rang dully in his ears.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the floor.

By the time he realized it, he was crying like a child, completely undone.

He couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t understand how something like this had happened; it felt like he was just trapped in some horrible dream.

If he were allowed one last wish in a situation where everything had fallen apart so completely, he wanted to wish that this was all a dream.

He desperately hoped it was.

But everything surrounding Han-geon insisted that this was reality.

The phone buzzing endlessly with Eun-gyeol’s name on the screen.

The pregnancy test spat out by the plastic bag.

The chill seeping up from the cold entryway floor and the raw, crazed sobbing pouring out of him…

Everything was pressing in on him, driving him into a corner.

So what were you going to do now?

This is the price of your foolish actions.

You’ve really gone too far to turn back now.

Now, truly… there was nothing left he could do.

After crying until his throat was hoarse, Han-geon shakily forced himself upright.

Dizziness spun through his body and the world reeled before his eyes, but he didn’t stop moving.

He walked over and pulled out a large suitcase he had stored deep inside the closet.

He’d been packing it little by little for the past month.

He moved mechanically, preparing to leave the apartment for a long time.

Finally slinging the bag over his shoulder, Han-geon called a taxi and left the apartment.

Seated inside the taxi that arrived, he stared blankly out the window at his home as it gradually grew farther away.

***

Laughter burst out inside the room.

A beam projector was set up in a private dining room.

On the screen, the first episode of Heart for Love, which had aired just the day before, was playing.

The director and actors chatted and laughed freely as they watched the scenes unfold.

“…..”

He had already heard the automated message—[The person you are calling cannot take your call right now…]—four times.

Eun-gyeol clenched his fist tightly as he ended the call.

He dialed again immediately.

As the damned ringing tone played once more, Eun-gyeol had to muster every ounce of restraint he had to keep his surging emotions in check.

The director lightly grasped Eun-gyeol’s shoulder, saying something with a laugh.

Eun-gyeol barely managed to lift the corners of his mouth in response.

After offering a suitably vague reply, he pushed himself up from his seat under the pretense of going to the restroom.

He couldn’t endure it any longer.

After ending the call for the fifth time, he called the manager.

His heart was racing so badly that even as he dialed, he couldn’t wait for the call to connect.

He strode straight down the long hallway and flung open the door to the room where the staff were gathered.

“Oh?

Actor Cha Eun-gyeol?”

The staff who had been grilling meat turned around in surprise.

The moment he realized the face he was looking for wasn’t there, he shut the door again.

He repeated the same thing several more times.

By the time he reached the room where Yoo-jin, the manager, and Kim Geon-ho were sitting together, Eun-gyeol was struggling with all his might to suppress the fury boiling inside him.

“Where is Choi Han-geon?”

An unfiltered, raw voice burst out of him.

The air in the room froze instantly at his low tone.

The manager, who had been stuffing a wrap into his mouth, jumped up in a panic.

“Where did he go?”

“Th-that is… wait a second.

Come outside, Eun-gyeol.”

The manager hurried over, practically shoving his feet into his dress shoes as he rushed to put them on.

After hastily closing the door behind them, he grabbed Eun-gyeol’s arm as if to calm him down.

Eun-gyeol shook him off with a snarl.

“I’m asking you where Choi Han-geon is right now.”

“Well, actually… I only just heard too… He said he had something come up, so he wouldn’t be able to attend the dinner… and then…”

The manager scratched his head and lowered his voice.

As he pulled out his phone, watching Eun-gyeol’s reaction, Eun-gyeol felt a rage he could no longer contain surge up inside him.

Without a second’s hesitation, he snatched the phone from the manager’s faltering hand.

On the screen was Choi Han-geon’s number, along with exactly what the manager had just said.

But at the very end, there was one more line—something Eun-gyeol’s mind simply couldn’t process right now.

“…Ha.”

A hollow laugh escaped him.

Wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him, he read it again.

[Manager, I’m sorry, but something came up, so I won’t be able to attend the dinner.

Thank you for everything.]

No matter how many times he read the shitty message, the words didn’t change.

The habit of sending messages with almost rigidly proper spelling, the neat and polite tone—it was unmistakably Choi Han-geon’s message.

“This… f*ck.”

“…..”

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?

Did you know about this?

Don’t tell me you already knew.”

Grinding his teeth, Eun-gyeol glared down at the manager with murderous eyes.

At the icy voice that froze the air around them, the manager averted his gaze, scratching his head.

“Actually… Han-geon came to see me yesterday and said he was quitting.

He didn’t tell me where he was going, so I don’t know where he is either.

He asked me—no, begged me—not to tell you until after the dinner.

I thought he’d at least show up for the dinner, but—hey, wait.

Cha Eun-gyeol!

Where are you going?!”

There was nothing more he needed to hear.

Eun-gyeol tossed the phone back at the manager as if throwing it at him and bolted out of the restaurant.

He didn’t care that he wasn’t wearing a hat or sunglasses.

The moment he spotted an empty taxi dropping someone off by the roadside, he jumped in.

In a sharp, impatient voice, he called out Han-geon’s home address.

Even on the way, he kept calling Choi Han-geon.

Seventeenth time.

Eighteenth time.

He called again and again, obsessively, too many times to count.

By the time he’d been dialing unanswered calls like a madman, he was already standing in front of Han-geon’s place.

Without hesitation, he punched in the password and barged inside.

“…..”

The moment he stepped into the darkened apartment, he knew.

This place was empty.

Even worse, what drove him truly insane was the faint, lingering scent of Choi Han-geon’s pheromones.

Han-geon had just… been here.

The apartment was submerged in darkness.

Even the entryway sensor light was dead.

He strode inside and tried flipping the switches, but the lights wouldn’t turn on.

Swearing under his breath, he went straight to the breaker box.

As expected, the switch was flipped down.

The instant he saw that, his heart dropped.

He had come in and out of this apartment hundreds of times, and it had never been like this before.

Once the lights were finally on, the apartment was clearly empty.

With bloodshot eyes, Eun-gyeol ransacked the place.

The shut-off gas valve, every window locked without exception, the empty closet…
The implication of it all was painfully clear.

Han-geon had left, fully prepared to be gone for a long time.

“Hhk… h-hk…”

At some point, harsh, shallow breaths were ringing in his ears.

Only a few seconds later did Eun-gyeol realize that he himself was gasping for air.

Like someone clinging to a sheer cliff.

Like someone sinking helplessly into a deep abyss, with no way to fight it…

“…f*ck.”

f*ck, f*ck, f*ck…
No matter how many times he spat out the curse, the emotions swirling violently in his chest showed no sign of calming.

It felt as though a storm of emotions was gripping his body and shaking him apart.

Unable to suppress his fury, Eun-gyeol stalked through the apartment and clenched his fist.

With a trembling hand, he grabbed the remote control lying on the table and hurled it.

Bang!

The remote shattered in the corner of the room with a deafening crash.

The boiling rage burst out as a beastlike roar.

After screaming himself hoarse again and again, Eun-gyeol glared around the apartment with bloodshot eyes, teeth clenched.

What had once been Han-geon’s comfortable, cozy, familiar space now lay empty, silently mocking him.