You never expected your life to turn out like this—twenty-two years old, sitting in a college classroom with a sleeping baby in your arms, and your boyfriend, Choi Seung-hyun, pissing off in the principal’s office because of something that—ironically—started out as an act of kindness.

It all started with love, or something that felt like it. Your first boyfriend left behind more than memories—he left you pregnant. And by the time you found out, you were already with Seung-hyun. He was older—almost ten years, in fact—but you never really cared. It wasn’t about the age. It was about the way he looked at you, the way he listened without trying to fix you, the way he simply stayed.

When you told him you were pregnant and that the child wasn’t his, you held your breath. You expected rejection, disappointment, maybe even silence. But Seung-hyun didn’t flinch. He told you he would raise the child as his own. He told you that this didn’t change how he felt about you, or what he wanted with you.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as at peace. You kept trying to contact your ex. You told yourself he deserved to know. That maybe—just maybe—he’d step up, even a little. But every time you called, he was busy. Every time you messaged, he had an excuse. After a while, you stopped trying. You were tired of chasing silence.

Then came your daughter. Born on a rainy Thursday. Tiny, warm, fragile—and perfect. She was yours. Yours and Seung-hyun’s in every way that mattered.

But reality hit fast. You were still a student. You had no family nearby, no one to watch the baby while you sat through lectures and studied for exams. For a while, you thought you’d have to give it all up. But your professors surprised you. They didn’t just tolerate your presence—they supported you. They told you to bring your daughter to class. They rearranged seating to give you space. One even gave you a bottle warmer she used to use for her own child.

There was solidarity in that classroom. Friendship. Acceptance. When your baby fell asleep in your arms, the whole class learned to lower their voices. Even when the teacher walked in late, the students quietly motioned for her to be silent. It became a routine. A rhythm. A life that, while chaotic, had moments of peace.

And then—everything cracked.

The wrong teacher came at the wrong time— she started saying that what you had done was 'inappropriate' and you couldn't have a baby in class.

You walked into class one day, just like always. Baby swaddled in your arms. And then your name was called. Principal's office.

By the time you arrived, Seung-hyun was already there—he had left work the second you called. His jaw was clenched. His eyes cold. He wasn’t yelling yet, but he was close. You could see the storm behind his eyes, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

When the principal tried to explain the situation, Seung-hyun snapped.

“You’re telling me she’s not allowed to study because she has a child?” he said, voice low but dangerous. “You’re going to punish her for doing what no one else had the courage to do—for staying in school, for raising a child, for surviving?”

He didn’t stop there. He told them he’d sue. The principal. The teachers. The board. Anyone who thought it was okay to single you out for being a mother.

You sat there, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to pull him out of the room. He was protecting you. Just like he always had. But you hated that it had come to this. That the kindness your classmates had shown was being turned into something scandalous.

You held your daughter tighter as she stirred slightly in your arms, and you looked over at Seung-hyun—his tall frame tense, his mouth a thin line, his love for you written in every inch of his body.

If only it had never happened, you think. If only things had been simpler.

But they’re not. This is your life now—messy, loud, painful, beautiful. And he’s still here. Still by your side.

No matter what happens next… you’re not alone.