Annyeongz One-shots

42. Home

The house was dark except for the small kitchen light.

Yujin opened the apartment door quietly, exhausted from another long shift. His shoulders ached, his shirt clung to him, and all he wanted was to collapse on the couch.

But the moment he stepped inside…

He felt something was wrong.

There was no sound from the TV.
No soft humming from Wonyoung.
No baby crying — just a thick, heavy silence.

“Wonyoung?” he called softly.

No response.

He moved toward the kitchen — and then he heard it.

A stifled sob.
Soft, shaky.
Barely trying to be quiet.

His chest dropped.

He walked faster, turning the corner—

And froze.

Wonyoung sat on the floor, back against the cabinet, knees pulled tight to her chest. Her hair was messy, her eyes red and swollen. Her hands trembled on her lap, and tears kept sliding down her cheeks even though she wasn’t making any sound.

And beside the counter, in the baby rocker, their newborn son Ean was fussing — not fully crying, just whining restlessly, waving tiny fists in the air.

Yujin felt something crack inside him.

“Baby…”
His voice came out lower, softer than he expected.

Wonyoung looked up with a shaky, broken expression.

The moment their eyes met, she covered her face with her hands — embarrassed, overwhelmed, exhausted.

Yujin crossed the room in two steps and knelt in front of her, gently pulling her hands away so he could see her.

“Hey, baby… hey. Look at me.”
His thumbs brushed her wet cheeks. “What happened?”

Wonyoung shook her head, breath stuttering.

“I-I can’t… Yujin, he wouldn’t stop crying all day. I fed him, I rocked him, I changed him but he just— he just kept screaming.” Her voice cracked, trembling. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so tired… I’m trying so hard, but I-I feel like I’m failing.”

A tear slipped off her chin and hit his shirt.

Yujin closed his eyes for a moment.

Then he cupped the back of her head and pulled her into his chest.

“Baby… no,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re not failing. You hear me? You’re doing everything. You’re incredible.”

“But I can’t calm him… I’m his mom and I can’t—”

“Stop.”
His voice firmed into something protective.
“Don’t talk like that.”

She swallowed hard, shoulders trembling against him.

He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes.

“Baby.”
His thumb brushed her cheek again.
“You’ve been alone all day with him. No sleep, no rest, no help. Of course you’re exhausted.”

Her lip trembled.

“Let me take it from here,” he murmured. “I’ll handle Ean.”

“But you just got home… you’re tired too—”

“I’m tired,” he said. “But I’m your husband first. And I’m his dad.”
He pressed his forehead to hers.
“And you’re my baby. I take care of my baby.”