Namjoo looked at him then her eyes swayed to the side, over the walls then back to him. She answered while fiddling with her fingers, “I used it to shop.”

A painful frown crossed his face. Why did she keep lying?

“Why can’t you tell me the truth?” he asked. Namjoo’s eyes widened proving his answer. He held out the packet to her, “What is this?”

Namjoo’s eyes hovered over the papers and slowly reached out for it. He watched her eyes grow larger as she flipped through it.

“Do you need money?” he asked.

Namjoo’s head shot up, her eyes landing on him instantly. He’d hit the bull’s eye. What Namjoo wanted from him…money.

An arrow pierced his heart.

“When you first talked to me on the stairs that day,” Jongin recalled achingly, “you mentioned my father and how he was ill. Was it intentional?”

“Jongin…”

“I asked if it was intentional,” he asked again with weight in his tone, clamping his eyes shut tightly and opened them again. “Your brother didn’t come to the wedding because you didn’t let him know. Is that the truth or is that a lie?”

He waited a moment then went on, “That one week when you refused to see me or answer my calls, why? Was it my parents? Were you scared of me?”

“There’s a reason. It’s hard…”

“Do you love me?” it was the one thing he wanted to know the most, but Namjoo couldn’t answer him. Raising his voice he yelled, “Why can’t you answer me?!”

She looked hurt. The expression in her eyes made his heart go out to her but he forced steel over it. It was a trick, could be nothing but that. In the end, with one given chance, Namjoo couldn’t try to fix this relationship with him. She couldn’t even try to be honest – the only one thing he wanted.

What was the point of this? It was meaningless, because he meant nothing to her.

“We’re married, Namjoo,” his voice was soft and trembled with grievance over what he believed they’d had. “I loved you the moment you let me know you, and I trusted you with everything. I was willing and I’m still willing to give you everything I have. Why can’t you tell me anything? If you have a debt, you could’ve said so. You lied! The money you took is down on paper. How are you going to lie about that now? Can you tell me how many other things you lied to me about? Can’t you just come clean now?! When I’m still willing to forgive you, when I’m asking. Can’t you at least do that for me?”

She couldn’t answer. Frozen in spot, Namjoo’s eyes stared at the ground like she was being reprimanded. He couldn’t tell what was running through her head. Jongin’s insides were going to blow. It took two to work a relationship but only he was in it. This illusion he’d had of them had been an empty hole from the very beginning.

Namjoo didn’t love him. She didn’t want to try at all. She didn’t care.

“Why can’t you say anything?!” he belted out loudly. “Why are you making me feel so stupid?! I brought you into this family because I want to share it with you! My life, everything! Why are you doing this?!”

Frustration spiked him mad.

“Why did you marry me?” he finally asked, his heart tearing and ripping, the pain so raw his muscles throbbed until he felt like keeling over. “Do you love me?”

Say it, he willed, but she didn’t and it burst a part of him. Jongin was ashamed. He had come this far for nothing.

“Money.” It was so quiet he barely heard her. His wife finally raised her eyes up to look at him. “I needed money. I wanted a life I never had. You had it.”

The very blissful life before him shattered to a million pieces, piled up on the floor. Jongin felt stabbed in the guts, punched in the face, driven over, and thorns piercing his body. Every part of him ached. He was both mentally and physically sore, the pain transmitting through his brain to his limbs. He was beyond disappointed, sick to the stomach. In the end, all he was worth was a few thousand dollars. When she knew well how much he loved her. She had used him so brazenly.

In the flash of an eye his very perfect world had crumbled to dirt at his feet. He’d lost it all. No words could describe raw emptiness.

~~~~~

Namjoo was afraid and she didn’t really know why. This deep sense of apprehension made her knees quaky. She hadn’t been ready for this confrontation. It was hard to open and it didn’t feel like it was her own. Everything Jongin said…was right, but for some reason she was scared to confirm it. Because she would lose the comfort of this home? Lose Jongin? What was it exactly?

Feelings jumbled between a mix of fear and desperation made it impossible for Namjoo to figure out the right things to say. The loan was long linked to when their mother left them helpless. And how could she tell Jongin about that part of her life? How could she ruin that part of his life by telling him he’d stolen her mother? That he lived the life that should have been hers, alongside her mother?

“I hate you.” Infuriated Jongin stared at her with icy eyes, his voice hot and heavy with growing fury. “Leave. Get out of my house.”

Something inside her cracked. Her body suddenly didn’t seem like her own body. This hopelessness she had long lost suddenly regained control. The hope in her heart quickly dissolved into butterflies that quickly fluttered away, leaving her bare and empty. Cold washed over her. Her chest suddenly ached wildly. Not just her heart but her entire chest throbbed wholesomely. Someone had drilled a nail into her ribs; someone had reached their hands between the gaps of her cage and grasped her heart, squeezing the pumping organ until it bled. A sudden deep emptiness hugged her, reminding her that she belonged on the streets begging for a home and food to fill her stomach.

Brushing by as control over her own body shut down, her arms and legs moved on their own. Grabbing her bag she stuffed the clothes she’d come with, which hadn’t been much anyway, inside messily. Zipping the bag she swerved and opened the door, slamming it behind her. Her heart raced, her head throbbed, and with hands tight on the bag she strutted toward the door.

This was nothing new. She had left home before – only then it had been her aunt’s home and Joohwan had been with her. And she was glad she was leaving once again by herself this time. Why stay here? There was nothing for her here. She hated this place. Her mother who wasn’t her mother, was here.

“Namjoo?” her mother called out and hurried toward her. Grabbing her arm she asked worried, “Where are you going? What’s wrong? Namjoo…”

The only plausible thing running through her mind was Jongin’s words that struck her like a butcher knife. Everything was meant to crumble down from the beginning, because this place wasn’t hers. She wasn’t her mother’s daughter. She’d never belonged anywhere. And this home definitely wasn’t it.

Slipping into her shoes she wheeled around toward the door and clambered down the steps with the night air turning her cold. That was right, she was better off without anyone hindering her. She was better off by herself, she’d always been on her own. It was ok because there had been no one for her in the beginning.

Namjoo would have rushed back to the hostel but her steps slowed when she realized Jongin knew she would be there. If he regretted he would come find her, but she had already called it quits. He could live without her. There were so many women lined up for him. Goo Yeji out of all of them, the perfect wife who would be able to aid and match him. The hell would he ever come look for her when there was that perfect person there? And his house, he had her mother and his nephew.

And he hated her.

The bag dropped from her hand, landing loudly beside her feet. Knees finally buckled and she fell onto the curb, slowly realizing she’d been struggling to keep it together as she left. Pain was eating her alive, it was a parasite gnawing her insides apart. Namjoo was physically and emotionally sick in ways she hadn’t felt before.

~~~~~

What was there to fix?

Namjoo never loved him, never gave him an ounce of her consideration for his feelings. She never cared about him. All that mattered had been his money.

The door opened and his mother shuffled in frantically. “Jongin! Namjoo left!”

“Let her leave. I don’t care.” He walked away from her, took off his jacket, and tossed it onto the bed aggressively.

“Jongin!” his mother cried, pleading. “Please, go bring her back! She can’t be out there! I’m begging you. Please!” grabbing his arm, she shook him with desperation. “You can’t let her go like this. This house needs her.”

“No it doesn’t!” he whirled around, screamed into her face then stilled when he realized she was crying. “Mom…”

Shaking her head she tightened her hands around his arm. Her soft, calm voice trembled, “Namjoo, please bring her back. I can’t let her go like this. Please, I’m begging you. Bring her back.”

Seeing the woman sob feverishly in a manner he’d never seen before Jongin frowned stunned, stupefied, “Mom, what’s wrong with you?”

“Namjoo…don’t abandon her. Don’t let her live on the streets again, not that kind of life. You need to go get her. This is her home. Jongin, please.” She cried. “I can’t live without her.”

~~~~~

Kyung’s car braked when he spotted Namjoo huddled on the curb with her head buried in her arms. Parking his car he dashed across the street toward her and crouched down in front of her. After her abrupt call he’d run out of his home. She hadn’t sounded right, her voice had cracked and croaked. It had been long since she’d sounded like that.

“Namjoo,” he called out, reaching a hand out for her.

It took a moment for her to lift her head up and when she did, her eyes looked depleted of light. They were tired and depressed. She looked aged.

“I was kicked out.”

A momentary shock spread through him before his heart went out to her. It broke when he saw tears stream out of her eyes.

“This is when you say, ‘I told you so,’ right?” she asked with a silly smile and then she let out a sob before pressing a hand to . Kyung watched her cry for a minute or two before she said with her voice breaking, “What do I do, Kyung? I think I love him, but I can’t go back there.”

He listened to her let out a cry and then another loud, painful one. “My chest hurts.”

“Should I take you to Hwan?” Kyung asked. “Or the hostel?”

Namjoo shook her head, “I’m too ashamed. And Jongin knows I’ll be at the hostel. I don’t want to be where he knows I’ll be. It’s over, Kyung.”

Kyung watched her continue to cry agonizingly. He was hesitant then said, “I passed the bar exam.”

“Did you?”

“I’m going for an internship in Britain, I don’t think I’ll be back for a few years.” He said, paused then asked, “Namjoo, why don’t you go with me?”

~~~~~

His mother was crazy. What did she mean she couldn’t live without Namjoo? It wasn’t like they had any special bond or affiliation or any of that sort.

Jongin pulled his necktie loose as he sped down the road, angrier with himself he was actually going after Namjoo. He was still pissed off more than hurt by her right now. He never wanted to see her again. Good riddance, he thought. This whole masquerade was finally ending but his mother just had to interrupt. The desperation in her panic-stricken eyes, why did he even let it get to him? His poor mother didn’t need a liar around.

Jongin nearly flew forward in his seat and would have crashed into the wheel if it weren’t for the seatbelt holding him back. There was a roadblock sign in front of him he hadn’t noticed. Ahead of him a crowd of people appeared like cluttered shadows under the growing moon.

“What the hell…” Jongin muttered parking and getting out of his car. Due to the darkening sky he couldn’t tell what was up ahead but he smelled eerie smoke. In the distance a thin fog floated up into the sky. As he got nearer to the crowd he recognized the flashing lights of an ambulance and a long fire truck parked in front of the curb, the hostel adjacent to it. A dozen uniformed men continued running in and out of the hostel, voices clashing and warring with each other.

“What’s going on?” Jongin asked a curious bystander with him at the back.

“There’s been a fire.” The unknown man said. “There are people trapped in the building.”

“What?!” Jongin gasped, shocked. Grabbing the man by the shoulders and wheeling him around, “What do you mean trapped?!”

“I don’t know. I just got here, geezes,” the man shoved him away irritated before turning to watch the emergency team work far up ahead.

All thoughts of wishing Namjoo far gone vanished from his head as he pushed his way through the thick crowd, trying not to grow frantic or imagine the worst. The nearer he got to the front the more he began seeing red orange flames the windows of the hostel, the more panic began taking hold. Jongin flinched with the screaming crowd when one of the windows burst from the fire.

Panicked and gasping he grabbed someone ahead of him, “What’s going on?”

The shivering man explained, “There’s a fire that started on the fourth floor. Everyone’s been evacuated but the ones on the tenth floors and up are trapped.”

His heart skipped, stomach lurched. He was going to be sick. “No…” he muttered then screamed turning to the building now hysteric. “No! Namjoo!”

She was on the twelfth floor. Room 1224. He still remembered. Could still remember the first time she took him up on that rainy day, told him about her brother.

Namjoo…trapped in the fire…

Breaking through the rest of the crowd frightened, Jongin rushed toward the front aiming for the front doors. Out of nowhere he was pushed back, blockaded by cops at the front. “Sir, you can’t go in.”

“My wife, she’s in there,” he pleaded desperately. Screaming louder, “I said she’s in there! I need to go save her!”

“The firemen are doing everything they can to rescue those trapped,” the officer explained calmly, his face glistening with sweat.

Unable to transmit his words to the brain, Jongin continued screaming furiously, “Namjoo! Let me go! I need to go save her! You don’t understand! What if your wife or your daughter was in there! I need to go save her! Let me go! I need to…I need to go get her!”

He didn’t know how much time he spent screaming and hurling himself at the policeman until he was dragged away with the help of other cops and some bystanders. Throat now hoarse, Jongin sat defeated on the curb all the way until dawn, until the firemen finished putting out the fire, until smoke stenched the air and it reeked of death and melted wood, furniture, and the hostel Namjoo had stayed in.

Namjoo never came out and only five from the tenth floor and up had been rescued. When he thought of her trapped in the blazing room he felt like gagging. The terror, the fear she had gone through because of him…and he broke, wept for her until he had no more energy.  

When the sun started drawing up he slowly drove home to the waiting mother who had begged him to go for her. And he wished he didn’t have to return at all. Not without Namjoo, his wife.

“Where’s Namjoo?” Hunmi asked when he walked in, his face deathly pale and with misery written all over. “Jongin…”

“I think…I think,” his heart broke at the realization of what had happened in the past few hours and tears welled up, “she’s dead. There’s been a fire…”

His mother immediately broke out into a wail, immediately crumbling to the floor. He’d never heard her cry her soul out before. Deep, gut wrenching sobs pouring through her like water from a faucet. “My baby…my daughter…Namjoo…why…”

~~~~~

Namjoo turned around when the roar of a plane lifted off into the sky. She’d changed into her usual jeans and tee outfit. Kyung held out his phone to her when she walked toward him. “Give Hwan a call. He’d want to know.”

Nodding, Namjoo dialed and listened to the phone ring. “What is it?” her sleepy brother answered. “We just talked an hour ago.”

“Hwan, it’s me.” Namjoo greeted.

“Namjoo?” he asked with surprise. “What are you…”

Namjoo’s eyes ran over the clock. An hour had passed and it was almost 10PM. “I’m going to Britain.”

“What?” even more shock in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoo apologized, “you were right and I was wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to be staying in Jeju until Kyung can help me get my passport then I’ll immediately leave for Britain with him,” Namjoo explained. “I won’t be able to see your baby. I’m sorry about that too.”

“What’s going on?” he sounded more awake now, alert.

“I’ll tell you everything later. I promise.” Kyung tugged her and pointed toward the schedule board. “Our flight is leaving soon. I’ll call you when I get to Jeju.”

Hanging up she handed the phone to Kyung with a thanks and caught his solemn eyes on her. “What?”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I mean, it’s two years abroad and you don’t know a thing of English.”

Smiling to assure him Namjoo said, “I’m always up for anything. And I won’t be alone.” she knocked his arm with a smile. “Lets go.”  

***Small words like hate are really strong and powerful. Out of anger we're always tempted to say the worst. Namjoo could have told him the truth and it would have been easy, she could have been honest and Jongin was waiting for it, only she didn't do it. Her true motive from the beginning was money and she told him that but she still didn't give him an explanation for the loan which disappointed and angered him. So it broke their tie. When you can't be honest, trust is not worth giving. The gap between KaiJoo has grown. Here we go into the next half!