The quiet hum of the bathroom fan was the only sound breaking the silence that morning. Your hands trembled faintly as you sat on the toilet, shoulders slumped, head resting against the cool tile wall. The test felt heavy in your grasp even though it was nothing more than a small piece of plastic. You’d done this so many times before that you already knew the outcome before the result even appeared. Negative. It was always negative.

You thought about the months that had gone by—the first test, how discouraged you’d felt, and how Ji-yong had held you close, whispering that you’d try again. The second test, negative again, and his smile, soft but unwavering as he promised that it didn’t matter how many times it took. You remembered the gynecologist’s words, how they had settled like a weight in your chest: a problem with your ovaries, little chance of conceiving. Every test after that had chipped away at your hope until there was nothing left but exhaustion.

Ji-yong always tried to stay strong for you, even though you could see the tiredness in his eyes — from his concerts, his endless schedules, and now, from watching the person he loved lose hope little by little. But no matter how exhausted he was, he never let go of your hand.

Your thumb brushed over the plastic window of the test. You didn’t even want to look, not really. What was the point? Still, with a breath that caught in your throat, you lowered your gaze—and froze.

Two lines.

Positive.

You are pregnant.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes widened, heart hammering so violently you almost dropped it. Your hands shook harder now, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of despair—it was something else entirely. Tears welled, spilling down your cheeks before you even realized you were crying.

“Love? You alright in there?”

You couldn’t answer, your throat too tight, your hands shaking as you stared at the little miracle in your palm. The door eased open, and Ji-yong stepped inside, his eyes finding yours instantly. The tears on your cheeks, the way you held the test as though it were the most fragile thing in the world—it only took him a heartbeat to understand. His expression melted, shock flickering into something softer, something you’d never forget.