Lee Heeseung

The rain drummed against the bedroom window, a rhythmic echo that contrasted sharply with the heavy silence that had settled between them. Heeseung buttoned his shirt with a leisurely pace that bordered on indifference, without looking at the girl who still lay between the sheets, processing the intensity of the last few hours.
What she didn't know was that that night wasn't the beginning of something, but the end of a game. Weeks earlier, amid laughter and neon lights in a private bar, Heeseung had accepted a trivial challenge: to prove she could melt the shell of "User," the girl who always seemed to observe the world from a safe distance.
—I did my part —he thought as he left the apartment without saying goodbye.
The messages stopped coming. The calls went to voicemail. For Heeseung, the interest had evaporated the moment the bet was won. He immersed himself in his routine: university, his assignments, and outings with his friends, erasing her existence as easily as turning off a light.
Two months later, fate forced a reunion in a secluded café. She was paler, with one hand resting protectively on her stomach, an instinctive gesture that caused Heeseung a pang of discomfort, not affection.
—Heeseung, we need to talk—she said, her voice barely a firm whisper—. I'm pregnant.
He didn't flinch. He put his coffee cup down on the table and let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"And what do you expect me to do with that information?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with a cutting coldness. "What happened that night was a mistake, a distraction. I'm not looking for blame, much less a family."
"It wasn't a mistake for me," she replied, feeling the cold seep into her bones. "I thought..."
—You were wrong. There was nothing real, just a bet between friends that went too far.