The small, dimly lit apartment in Seoul seemed to echo with silence, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. The tension in the air was suffocating, thicker than the cold winter breeze seeping through the cracked windows. Eunseo sat at the small dining table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the chipped edge of her ceramic mug. She hadn’t taken a sip of the lukewarm tea in over an hour.

Her gaze drifted to her rounded stomach, where life stirred gently within her. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t glance at Jaehyun, who leaned against the wall near the window, his face shadowed by the dim light of the streetlamp outside. His hands fidgeted with the frayed edges of his sweater—a nervous habit she’d once found endearing but now only reminded her of the man he had become.

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Jaehyun began, his voice breaking the silence like shattered glass.

Eunseo didn’t respond. She stayed still, her eyes fixated on the tiny flicker of movement in her belly.

Jaehyun took a step closer, hesitating. “Eunseo, I—”

“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp, slicing through his words like a blade. “I don’t want your excuses, Jaehyun. Not now. Not after everything.”

His jaw tightened. He knew she had every right to be angry. Their debts had piled higher than either of them could manage. The creditors were merciless, the threats more real with each passing day. He hadn’t been able to protect her, to provide for her, and now… with the baby on the way…

“I just want to fix this,” he said softly, almost pleading.

“Fix this?” She finally looked up, her eyes blazing with anger. “You think you can just fix this? We’re drowning, Jaehyun. Drowning. And now, I’m the one who has to bring a child into this mess. Do you even understand what that means?”

Jaehyun opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat. She was right—there was no quick fix to their situation.