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Chapter 22
When Ji-hyuk reached out his hand, Yoo-eul, startled by the sudden movement, kicked her legs up in surprise.
Ji-hyuk barely managed to turn his head in time to avoid getting hit square in the face.
Realizing what had just happened, Gong-gal (Yoo-eul) panicked and quickly apologized.
“Ah! I’m so sorry! Y-you didn’t get hit, right?”
Because Doha was on her lap, Yoo-eul couldn’t even get up and just whimpered.
Ji-hyuk, realizing he’d almost gotten kicked for no reason, stayed silent and gently lifted Doha into his arms.
Doha, who seemed perfectly comfortable in Yoo-eul’s embrace, was sound asleep.
Even when Ji-hyuk picked him up, the baby didn’t wake.
In the meantime, Yoo-eul scrambled to her feet, half-asleep, looking around for a clock.
“Go wash your face or something.”
In truth, she didn’t have any drool on her, but he said it to give her a moment to wash up and get ready.
Still half-asleep, Gong-gal blurted an apology for drooling and hurried off to the bathroom.
Left alone with Doha, Ji-hyuk let out a quiet laugh.
What a ridiculous woman.
But before he could dwell on the thought, the bathroom door flew open again.
Gong-gal rushed out, her lips still glistening with water—apparently she’d only rinsed around her mouth.
“…What is it now?”
Ji-hyuk asked, confused. Yoo-eul stretched her arms forward.
“I washed up. Give me Doha.”
Ji-hyuk didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh—she looked both absurd and earnest.
Right now, there seemed to be nothing in Han Yoo-eul’s mind except her nephew.
Maybe one day she’d use the kid to squeeze money out of someone, but for now, she looked desperate to care for him.
At least, he was sure she’d never hurt the child.
In fact, she might even take better care of Doha than he did.
Of course, that ungrateful little brat probably liked her more than him anyway.
In the end, Ji-hyuk handed Doha back to her.
As Yoo-eul held the baby again, a gentle smile spread across her face.
He’d noticed it before—the way her cheeks rounded when she smiled like that, soft and glowing, like a ripe peach.
Feeling a strange itch in his chest, Ji-hyuk turned away and headed to the kitchen.
He started gathering Doha’s formula, snacks, and other baby items, but wasn’t sure where to begin.
Then his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was Mrs. Shim.
Ji-hyuk’s expression brightened as if he’d just gotten a call from a savior.
“Yes, ma’am.”
— Mr. Ji-hyuk, I hope I’m not calling too early…?
“No, not at all. Go ahead.”
— How’s Doha doing? Did you take him to the hospital yesterday? I figured if it were serious, you’d have called, so I didn’t want to worry you more…
“They said it’s a urinary tract infection—apparently common in babies his age. He got antibiotics and fever meds, and I brought him home. He’s already much better.”
— Oh dear… I never had my kids catch anything like that, so I didn’t even think of it. I should’ve told you to take him sooner…
Hearing her guilt-ridden tone, Ji-hyuk assured her it was fine.
— So the hospital said he doesn’t need to come back?
“No, they recommended visiting his regular pediatrician, so we’re getting ready to go when it opens. Perfect timing for your call, actually.”
— Ah, you’ll need to pack a lot, then. If you open the cupboard, you’ll see a small thermos. Fill it with warm water for the formula.
Ji-hyuk followed her directions while packing.
— Also, there’s a sterilizer with Doha’s bottles. Bring one and fill it with barley tea—but hold on, that means you’ll have to boil it first.
The list kept growing, and Ji-hyuk’s brain nearly froze.
Just then, Yoo-eul, who had quietly approached, pointed at a box labeled “barley tea” near the inverter.
He nodded, threw a teabag into a pot, and started boiling water.
— It must be tough doing this all by yourself…
“Yeah. It’s killing me.”
— Still no replacement yet…?
“Apparently not. My father hasn’t called, so I assume he hasn’t found anyone. He’s really picky about who handles anything related to Doha. At this rate, I’m scared I’ll be stuck doing it until you recover.”
He smiled bitterly.
Mrs. Shim, knowing he wasn’t really joking, sighed softly.
“Mr. Ji-hyuk…”
“If I have more questions, I’ll call. Please focus on getting better.”
After hanging up, Yoo-eul asked,
“That’s the lady who helps with the baby, right? The one who hurt her back?”
“Yeah.”
While packing, Ji-hyuk glanced at her.
“Hey… do you want a baby carrier or something? Isn’t your arm hurting?”
“My arm hurts a bit, but I’m fine.”
“Don’t push yourself. If your arm gives out, you won’t be able to hold the baby.”
At that, Yoo-eul suddenly looked alarmed and asked for the carrier.
Ji-hyuk turned around and reached for it himself—
her small, slender frame didn’t look strong enough to handle Doha’s weight for long.
What if she hurt her back like Mrs. Shim?
“I’ll carry him. You finish packing.”
“No.”
“I’m not stealing the baby.”
She hesitated but finally handed Doha back.
Holding the baby easily with one arm, Ji-hyuk pointed toward the dining table with the other.
“There’s a big bag in the living room. Pack everything in there—diapers, towels, and plenty of clothes.”
Yoo-eul nodded firmly and dashed off.
He had thought she’d only be a nuisance, but she was actually making things easier.
A moment later, as more items came to mind, Ji-hyuk went to check on her.
To his surprise, she was already packing Doha’s favorite small toys into the bag.
That was exactly what he’d been about to say.
He felt oddly moved.
She wasn’t just helpful—she was actually competent.
Even though they arrived right when the hospital opened, the waiting room was already full.
After checking in, Ji-hyuk and Yoo-eul sat down.
They said nothing to each other—only responding to Doha’s babbling now and then.
After about fifty minutes, when the baby started fussing, his name was finally called.
They hurried into the exam room.
The doctor was a man in his mid-fifties with horn-rimmed glasses.
“Oh ho, look at him! He’s gotten bigger already—must be eating well,” the doctor said warmly, clearly remembering Doha.
He asked about the baby’s symptoms.
Ji-hyuk calmly explained everything—how Doha had been treated in the ER, what medication he’d been given, and so on.
The doctor nodded and stood up, asking them to lay the baby down on the exam table.
As soon as Doha was set down, he began crying loudly.
When Ji-hyuk tried to hold his legs still, the baby screamed harder, almost in panic—until Yoo-eul began soothing him.
Though he didn’t stop crying completely, his sobs softened at her voice.
“Well, well,” the doctor chuckled.
He placed the stethoscope on Doha’s belly and examined him thoroughly.
After a long checkup, the doctor prescribed a week’s worth of antibiotics and asked them to come back next week.
He also repeated the ER doctor’s advice: if the fever spiked again or symptoms worsened suddenly, bring him in immediately.
Hearing that a few days of antibiotics would clear it up, Ji-hyuk finally felt relieved.
As they walked back to the car, his phone rang—it was his father, Je-wang.
He asked if everything had gone smoothly overnight.
Ji-hyuk sighed and told him the whole story.
Instead of panicking, his father burst into laughter.
— That’s how you grow, son. Raising a child is like that. Hahaha!
Ji-hyuk hung up silently.
He was annoyed—his father had no idea how much he’d struggled.
Still, since it wasn’t a serious illness, he was grateful in the end.
As he was walking, Yoo-eul suddenly stopped.
“Sir.”
“Hey, stop calling me ‘sir.’”
“Uh, then… Mr. Ji-hyuk?”
“What is it?”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“What?”
“Can we grab something to eat nearby before we go back?”
