The Omega Is Pregnant-Chapter 110

At the force of Seo Da-rae’s pull, Tae-seo braced his feet and held firm. Even so, his upper body tilted forward, their faces now so close they could almost touch. In that precarious moment, as if he’d lose his balance at any second, Tae-seo looked into Seo Da-rae’s eyes.

His pupils were filled with hatred toward him.

“You made me like this.”

The grip around Tae-seo’s wrist tightened. Under normal circumstances, that strength wouldn’t have affected him—but right now, with his center of gravity tilted forward, it took everything just to stay upright. He tried to pull his wrist free from Seo Da-rae’s hand, but it wouldn’t budge.

I can’t let Seo Da-rae’s strength overpower me. If I collapse now, Blessing could be in danger too.

This wasn’t something that would end with just himself. Blood stopped circulating, and his fingertips turned pale. Tae-seo opened his mouth in desperation.

“Seo Da-rae, calm down.”

“If it weren’t for you...”

Agony filled Seo Da-rae’s eyes.

He had lived his life earnestly. He’d earned warm glances from Kang In-hyuk. There had been more good days than sad ones. But from a certain point onward, everything had unraveled.

“I wouldn’t have fallen apart like this. That’s why you have to fall apart just like me.”

So that’s why he hated him.

Seo Da-rae’s furious voice was the outlet for every emotion he had suppressed.

“You want to see me suffer?”

“Yeah. How can you be the only one who’s happy?!”

Rather than hatred, Tae-seo felt pity for Seo Da-rae, who shouted about how unfair it all was.

What had happened to that kind, innocent Seo Da-rae?

“Stop.”

At Tae-seo’s quiet voice, Seo Da-rae didn’t immediately understand, confusion flickering across his face.

“I said stop!”

Tae-seo shouted sharply. If he let this go on any further, Seo Da-rae would never be able to return to who he once was. He poured his desperate hope into his words—that they wouldn’t cross the line of no return—but sadly, it didn’t reach him.

“How can you say that, when this is all your fault?”

“Seo Da-rae, if it’s what you want, I’ll get down on my knees and apologize until they wear out. So please, focus on yourself now!”

Their emotions began to rise, and their voices grew louder.

“Focus on myself? What the hell do I even have left?!”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’? You—there’s still you!”

Now more agitated than Seo Da-rae, Tae-seo shouted. A dull pain started in his lower abdomen. He winced at the sensation, and Seo Da-rae let out a scoffing laugh.

“Me? Did you just say me?”

Seo Da-rae’s face twisted, and it looked like he was crying silently.

“You think I have a chance at anything?”

“Of course you do.”

“No. I don’t. I’ve already lost everything—even myself!”

“It’s not too late.”

“I tried to die because of you. I wanted to throw myself into the sea and escape this hell... and you say it’s not too late?”

Seo Da-rae shook his head in disbelief.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve already—”

“Seo Da-rae, please.”

Tae-seo was about to tell him to get a grip, when he tried to yank his wrist away. Startled by the sudden move, Seo Da-rae reflexively tightened his grip, causing Tae-seo’s body to lurch forward. He hurried to plant his feet and keep his balance, but he couldn’t react fast enough—his body pitched forward. It was because of Blessing’s weight.

Seo Da-rae, shocked, let go of him. But as Tae-seo stumbled past him, he hurried to grab the wrist he had just released. However, Tae-seo clutched his belly, and Seo Da-rae’s hand grasped only empty air.

Tae-seo squeezed his eyes shut as he tumbled down the stairs. His back, knees, and head all slammed into the steps, each collision sending pain jolting through his body. He felt like he would scream, but he didn’t even have the strength to open his mouth. When the back of his head slammed hard against a ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) corner, his mouth finally dropped open on instinct.

After hitting the last stair and crashing into the wall at the bottom, a pained groan escaped him.

“Ugh...”

His stomach, cradled in his arms, was throbbing with unbearable pain—he couldn’t breathe.

“Ah...”

He rolled onto his side, curling up as a tortured moan escaped. With one eye barely open, he saw a sneaker. A sneaker, standing right in front of him. Tae-seo, trembling, reached out his hand.

“H-... help...”

That the person in front of him was the one who had done this—none of that mattered now. What mattered was the pain in his body—and, more than that, the shifting, changing pain in his belly. It made Tae-seo panic. He was clutching his stomach desperately, but he must not have been able to fully protect it.

Blessing is hurting.

Blessing was crying.

“Please...”

Looking at the sneaker that hadn’t yet left, Tae-seo squeezed out the last of his voice to plead. He felt his aching leg grow damp—and with that came a searing pain as cold as the wind.

“Se...”

...Da-rae, help me.

The end of the sentence blew away like air leaking from a balloon. The body he had barely held together was now slowly sinking into the swamp.

“To feel it... feel it exactly like I did...”

In Tae-seo’s dimming mind, now reduced to ragged breathing, Seo Da-rae’s voice echoed faintly.

“But what the hell did I just do? What did I do... to Yoon Tae-seo, who’s pregnant with a child... What did I do... I’m insane. I’m completely...”

If you’ve got time to mumble that, you could at least help me...

As Seo Da-rae fled the scene like he was running away, Tae-seo’s final thought burned in his mind like a scream.

The sound of the door slamming shut felt colder than the freezing wind—it wasn’t just his imagination.

He thought that because he wasn’t following the original story, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen. He had braced himself on the day the original Yoon Tae-seo was supposed to die, but nothing had happened—so he thought it was all fine...

But it’s not supposed to be like this.

He wasn’t even living the original storyline anymore.

A weak smile fluttered across Tae-seo’s lips like a mirage.

****

The long, drawn-out board meeting was finally drawing to a close. When Kang Jin-han stood up and gave a short speech, the moderator concluded the session.

“We’ll contact you as soon as the inauguration ceremony and press release for Vice President Kang Jin-han are prepared.”

As the moderator declared the board meeting adjourned, both Chairman Kang Hak-jung and Kang Se-heon reached for their phones. Especially Chairman Kang Hak-jung, who had thought he’d be able to leave midway—he let out a gruff cough, visibly displeased. The meeting had been tense, as the people loyal to Kang Soo-hak still hadn’t fully come around. They had only reached a conclusion in the final stretch, and even then, Chairman Kang Hak-jung checked his phone with an uneasy feeling.

Kang Se-heon wasn’t much different. It should’ve been around the time Tae-seo finished his appointment, so he checked for messages—but there was nothing. Instead, he had a string of missed calls—all from Jin Gyu-min. Remembering that he’d asked him to look after Tae-seo, Kang Se-heon furrowed his brow. A bad feeling rose up in his gut.

As he stood and dialed Jin Gyu-min, Kang Se-heon was the first to leave the conference room. The moment the call connected, a burst of noise made him frown.

[Why are you only calling me now?!]

The second the line connected, Jin Gyu-min’s anxious voice hit him, and beyond it, Kang Se-heon focused on the background noise—repeating overhead announcements, the echo of running footsteps, and Jin Gyu-min’s harsh breathing—all of it fed his growing dread.

[Tae-seo is gone.]

In that instant, it was like all other sound disappeared. No—it was the ringing in his head, as if his skull were splitting open, that drowned everything else out.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

[So, it’s like... we were talking, and then... he left the citron tea behind and disappeared. I thought he’d just gone to his appointment... but when I went to OB, they said Tae-seo never showed up.]

“So you’re saying... no one knows where he is.”

At Kang Se-heon’s low, quiet voice, Jin Gyu-min sounded even more desperate.

[I’m looking for him now—Tae-seo!]

As Jin Gyu-min’s urgent shout rang through the phone, Kang Se-heon lowered the hand holding his phone and started sprinting toward where his car was parked.

****

He couldn’t lose consciousness. With Seo Da-rae now gone, Tae-seo couldn’t just lie there hoping someone would find him.

Blessing is crying.

He could hear the sound of a baby crying right by his ear. Blessing’s tears, soaking his legs, were the only thing keeping Tae-seo from closing his eyes.

I have to stay alive—no matter what.

He didn’t see his phone. It must’ve fallen somewhere when he rolled earlier. He was stuck between floors now—he’d either have to crawl up or tumble further down to reach the emergency door.

I can’t go down.

His whole body already ached. But more than anything, it was his stomach that hurt the most. If he rolled down again, there was no way to guarantee Blessing’s safety.

With shaking hands, Tae-seo reached for the stairs. Crawling on all fours, he began to climb, one stair at a time. His fingers curled tightly around each step as if to claw into it, to keep from falling again. His fingernails cracked and throbbed with pain, like they might rip off, but he didn’t loosen his grip—not even a little. He felt like the moment he let up, he’d fall.

Just a little more. Hang in there, Blessing.

Daddy will protect you.

Tears welled in his eyes, but he bit down hard on his lip. He was scared he’d start swinging blindly if he couldn’t see. He felt guilty for once doubting whether to keep the pregnancy, for even hesitating when he first found out. If he hadn’t had those thoughts, maybe none of this would’ve happened.

The pain in his stomach was beyond comparison to anything before—it was overwhelming his entire mind.

He was halfway up the stairs, biting his lip, when—

The door burst open, and warmth rushed in with the noise.

“Tae-seo!”

At the sound of someone calling his name, a wave of relief finally swept across Tae-seo’s face. Thank God.

You came to save me.

Blessing, just a little longer.

Right before his flickering consciousness was about to give out completely, he felt someone scoop him into their arms.

Jin Gyu-min, holding Tae-seo’s limp body, ran straight for the OB department.

“Over here! Please, someone!”

At his shout, nurses and even a doctor who had just been passing by came running. One of the nurses, recognizing Tae-seo’s face, let out a short scream and quickly called the attending physician.

“He’s here—it’s Yoon Tae-seo! Please come quickly!”

In the meantime, Jin Gyu-min laid Tae-seo on the bed and stepped aside. Doctors filled the empty space in an instant, exchanging rapid assessments of Tae-seo’s condition.

Even through the rapid-fire conversation, the word “miscarriage” was heard more than once—it was a critical moment. At that moment, the attending doctor and Kang Se-heon arrived.

“Yoon Tae-seo!”

Kang Se-heon rushed to his side and touched his face. He gently stroked the cheek of the unconscious Tae-seo and gripped the hand that had fallen outside the edge of the bed.

I’ve been so happy lately, it’s made me uneasy.

The words Tae-seo had said while looking out at the sea flashed through his mind.

“Tae-seo...”

The bed began to move—he had to be taken into surgery immediately. In the motion, Kang Se-heon lost hold of the hand he’d been gripping. Tae-seo’s arm dropped, limp, over the side of the bed.