Chapter 88: The Unspoken Name

Yoonwoo stole frequent glances at Yeon-chae, who walked serenely beside him.

A pang of disappointment had struck Yoonwoo when the emergency room nurse assured him Yeon-chae would recover swiftly, dismissing his worries. Yet, Yeon-chae truly had recuperated with remarkable speed.

He appeared perfectly normal, making it seem absurd that only hours prior, a scorching fever had rendered him disoriented.

Ironically, it was Yoonwoo whose complexion was pallid, having merely snatched a few uncomfortable moments of sleep after an all-night vigil in the emergency room.

His stomach subtly knotted, punctuated by intermittent sharp pangs.

It felt as though the baby inside him was grumbling about being utterly exhausted.

Yoonwoo cast a subtle, reproachful glance at his slightly rounded belly, silently chiding the unborn child.

‘Didn’t Daddy hurt a lot? You should endure a little lack of sleep. You’ll be sleeping all day anyway.’

The baby, it seemed, was entirely oblivious.

Rather than taking after Yeon-chae, whom he wished it would emulate, it appeared to have inherited only Yoonwoo’s traits.

As he grumbled these thoughts to himself, they reached the apartment complex.

The aging complex, though abundant with spring foliage, lacked the vibrant maples and ginkgos that would paint autumn hues.

Rather than bursting forth with bright, beautiful spring blossoms, the bare branches, stark under the cold moonlight, cast a lonely and desolate silhouette.

He wished the night stroll with Yeon-chae could have been a little more picturesque.

A faint sense of disappointment settled over Yoonwoo.

“Hyung.”

Yeon-chae, who had been walking in quiet contemplation, finally broke the silence.

Yoonwoo lifted his gaze to Yeon-chae, and their eyes met.

Yeon-chae’s long, elegant eyes crinkled charmingly as he offered a bright, radiant smile.

It was remarkable; despite having been so close to death, a mere IV drip had seemingly restored him to perfect health.

Yoonwoo found himself envying Yeon-chae’s resilience, thinking how much better it would have been if he had presented as a dominant Alpha instead of a recessive Omega. However, he swiftly reconsidered.

Had Yeon-chae been an Alpha, their marriage would have been impossible.

“Yes? What is it?”

Yoonwoo’s gentle reply brought another smile to Yeon-chae’s face.

With each slight sway of Yeon-chae’s shoulder, his hand brushed Yoonwoo’s fingertips.

That fleeting warmth sent a delightful shiver through Yoonwoo’s chest.

“Shall we go to see the autumn leaves next month, Hyung? They should be beautiful around then.”

It was as though Yeon-chae had read his very thoughts.

Despite the simplicity of the suggestion, Yoonwoo’s spirits soared.

Yoonwoo nodded, then, emboldened, decided to push for a little more.

“Let’s go to Seoraksan. Or perhaps Jeju Island?”

“That far, Hyung?”

Yeon-chae’s expression flickered, a momentary surprise crossing his face.

Yet, he quickly broke into a soft chuckle.

“Alright.”

His voice was agreeable, almost breezy.

Yoonwoo’s hopes, like fragile soap bubbles, swelled larger and larger.

“And in winter…”

“Winter, Hyung?”

“Let’s go skiing in Gangwon-do.”

“But Hyung, you can’t ski. It’s dangerous.”

“Right. Then next winter.”

“Next year… Hyung?”

“Let’s also revisit Phuket. This time, instead of just staying at the resort, let’s try various activities, go out to sea, and even take a yacht.”

And bury all the unpleasant memories.

“And after that…”

He had a seemingly endless list of desires, more than he could count on both hands.

As Yoonwoo reeled off his bucket list, Yeon-chae listened patiently.

Yeon-chae’s long eyes, framed by thick lashes, curved into gentle crescents.

“Alright, Hyung.”

At last, Yoonwoo’s lengthy list came to an end.

Yeon-chae responded with the same calm demeanor as before.

His cheeks, flushed with a hint of laughter, glowed softly crimson under the moon’s gentle illumination.

“Let’s do all of them, Hyung.”

The soap bubbles, now seemingly unbreakable, floated suspended in the air, a delightful tickle in Yoonwoo’s heart.

In the hushed apartment complex of the early dawn, only the soft patter of their footsteps echoed.

They had just arrived at the front door, and Yoonwoo was reaching to input the keypad password.

Suddenly, Yeon-chae’s phone blared.

‘Who could be calling at this hour?’

Yoonwoo raised a single eyebrow in question.

“Ah, seriously.”

Yeon-chae pulled out his phone, checked the caller ID, and his face contorted into a frown.

Yoonwoo’s body instantly coiled with tension.

Few people possessed the power to make Yeon-chae wear such an expression.

Only one name immediately sprang to mind.

Kevin, or perhaps Go Kevin. Or even Kevin Go.

“Aren’t you going to pick up?”

“There’s no need to answer.”

Yeon-chae’s reply was clipped and firm, yet after a brief pause in its vibration, the phone began to buzz insistently once more.

There was only one person known for such relentless persistence.

Kevin, perhaps…

“Ugh, why at this hour!”

–Yeon-chae!

It was indeed Kevin.

Yoonwoo stood with a slight slouch, his hands jammed into his jeans pockets.

His mind raced, working furiously.

Kevin always seemed so carefree, leading Yoonwoo to question more than once if he truly was Yeon-chae’s first love. Yet, Yoonwoo distinctly remembered what he had heard that night.

Yoon-hyung.

Don’t go.

I like you.

Inside his pocket, his tightly clenched fist trembled uncontrollably.

He wished Kevin would just go back to America already.

‘Isn’t the semester already underway? Why hasn’t he left yet!’

Regardless of Yoonwoo’s internal turmoil, Kevin’s voice on the other end of the line continued to babble on, utterly unconcerned.

–Yeon-chae, let me crash at your place. I got kicked out.

“Again?”

–Mom’s telling me to go back immediately. But there are no flights right now. I just need to stay at your place for a few days and then…

Just as Kevin was rambling on with his excuses.

A loud shout, calling Kevin’s name, echoed from a distance.

The voice was so incredibly loud it seemed to burst through the phone’s speaker, reverberating deafeningly through the apartment corridor.

–Go Cheol-yun! Are you bothering Yeon-chae again? Hang up the phone right now and get over here! What time is it?!

–Didn’t Mom tell me to leave? I’m leaving!

–Do you really need a beating to come to your senses? Ugh, hang up immediately!

And then, the call abruptly disconnected.

Yeon-chae stared blankly at his phone, his expression a tight knot of frustration.

His muttered words, exhaled like a sigh, were unmistakably brusque.

“Ugh, Go Cheol-yun, seriously.”

Yeon-chae then turned to Yoonwoo, who had been standing there, somewhat bewildered.

An embarrassed expression crossed his face.

“It seems he’s getting scolded by his mother again. He won’t be able to come here now, so don’t worry.”

“Mmm.”

Kevin must have frequented Yeon-chae’s officetel before their marriage.

Yoonwoo felt a pang of melancholy and asked, his voice subdued.

“Is Kevin Hyung’s Korean name Go Cheol-yun?”

“Oh? Yes.”

A hint of amusement laced Yeon-chae’s reply.

Go Cheol-yun… The name did sound a little amusing.

Yeon-chae shook his head playfully and added.

“Kevin Hyung absolutely detests his Korean name. Though, to me, I think his Korean name suits him better.”

“Ah, so that’s why you called him Yoon. I thought it was a single-character name.”

“Yoon, Hyung?”

“When you called Kevin Hyung before.”

You said it. ‘Yoon-hyung,’ ‘Don’t go,’ ‘I like you.’

Memories he had meticulously filed away kept resurfacing, pricking at his heart like an awl hidden in his pocket.

“Ah. Only his mother calls him that, Hyung. She mentioned that in Gyeongsang-do, it’s common to use the last syllable as a term of endearment.”

“But you called him that too.”

Knowing the truth, Yeon-chae’s pretense of ignorance stung Yoonwoo, causing him to instinctively pout.

Yet, his reaction only made the raw wound in Yoonwoo’s heart throb with renewed pain.

At that, Yeon-chae tilted his head, looking puzzled.

An expression of genuine bewilderment crossed his face.

“Me, Hyung?”

“Mmm.”

“When was that?”

“A while ago, when you…”

The words, on the verge of spilling out, caught at the edge of his lips and halted.

He found he didn’t want to bring up that particular memory himself.

After a moment of hesitation, Yoonwoo chose to mention a different story he had heard earlier.

“Didn’t you say you used to call Kevin Hyung by his Korean name when you were little?”

“Oh, that.”

Only then did Yeon-chae seem to recognize what he was referring to.

A smile already played at the corners of his mouth.

‘He must be happy just thinking about it.’

Yoonwoo’s heart, which had been floating buoyantly moments before, plummeted.

Yeon-chae chuckled softly and spoke.

“That wasn’t Yoon-hyung. It was…”

“Huh?”

Not…?

“…Go Cheol. It just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

“…”

Go Cheol…?

“Go Cheol?”

Yoonwoo’s voice creaked as he repeated the name. Yeon-chae burst into laughter.

“We all teased him with it when we were kids, that’s all.”

“Oh… So you didn’t call him ‘Yoon-hyung’?”

“Why would I call Kevin Hyung ‘Yoon’?”

*But why did you say that back then?* Yoonwoo’s lips parted, but he couldn’t form the question.

Yeon-chae shrugged, then entered the password on the keypad. Opening the front door, he said brightly,

“‘Yoon-i’ is you, Yoonwoo Hyung. Don’t you remember I used to call you that when I was little?”

The front door slammed shut. However, Yoonwoo didn’t follow him in. Yeon-chae glanced back, and upon realizing Yoonwoo wasn’t there, he quickly flung the door open again.

Yoonwoo stood rooted before the door, his head bowed.

“Hyung? Why aren’t you coming in? What’s wrong?”

Yeon-chae asked, surprised.

Yoonwoo opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes were wide, and he was frozen in place.

Then, suddenly, tears began to stream down his face.

“What did you just say?”

“What…? What? Hyung, why, why are you crying?”

Yeon-chae, startled to the point of collapse, grabbed Yoonwoo’s wrist and pulled him. Yoonwoo’s light frame was easily tugged across the threshold into the entryway.

Moisture, thick on Yoonwoo’s lashes, trickled down his cheeks. His voice choked with emotion, Yoonwoo stammered, almost whispering,

“Say what you just said again.”

“What did I say, Hyung? I didn’t say anything…”

“No, I definitely heard you.”

Yeon-chae blinked in surprise. No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall anything he’d said that would make Yoonwoo cry. The last thing Yeon-chae had said before Yoonwoo started crying was…

“That I used to call you ‘Yoon-i Hyung’ when I was little?” Yeon-chae asked cautiously.

Yoonwoo, his eyelids swollen, silently glared at the floor, his lips trembling. He seemed to be struggling to hold back his tears. But then, his shoulders shook violently, and the dam of tears burst. Yeon-chae was utterly flustered.

“Hyung, Hyung. What’s wrong? Hmm? Why are you crying like this?”

He fumbled to pull Yoonwoo closer, embracing him tightly. His chest was instantly soaked with warm tears. Yoonwoo, overwhelmed by his crying, couldn’t respond. Only Yeon-chae, drenched without understanding why, felt his heart ache.

“Hyung, please don’t cry, okay?”

He wiped Yoonwoo’s cheeks with the back of his hand. After a long while of coaxing, Yoonwoo finally parted his lips. His voice was hoarse from constant sobbing.

“Since when have you been…”