Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-…., impatiently she counts the seconds in her head, while her eyes dart between the clock and the plastic in her hand. Disappointment sinks in as after five minutes there is still only one line. She has done everything they told her to do. Test to find her fruitful days, check; having actual on those days, check; pillow under her hip, check; eating more healthily, check! Her grocery list nowadays is filled with, dairy products, salmon, chicken, eggs, and beans, despite her despise for most kind of beans. But those foods were recommended to her. Supposedly preparing and helping her body for pregnancy and also boost her fertility. She is even patiently snacking almonds instead of chips! Oh, how she carves for coffee or milk tea with lots of sugar, salty, fatty fries, or a burger dripping in BBQ sauce. Alleged to her mother-in-law, the meat in burgers is dangerous, everything fried slows down her metabolism. While we are at it, particularly anything she has eaten before turns out to be unhealthy and bad, making her less fertile. Obviously, it’s totally her fault for not preparing all her life to get the perfect womb, she rolls her eyes at the thought. Ugh, just the image of another meal of dry chicken and overcooked beans she will have to choke down makes her nuisance. And that’s exactly why she had those false hopes, that maybe this time it would be different. It’s a common pregnancy sign to be overly sensitive about food. But nothing.
She suddenly feels so incomplete, humiliated and betrayed by her own body and she wishes for nothing more than an understanding comforting embrace. Someone who tells her that it is okay and maybe some whipped-cream on an extra huge portion of vanilla ice cream, and of course topped with maple syrup and a mug filled with hot white chocolate.

But as she exits the bathroom she is greeted by no one as she is all alone. The only sign of her husband is the smoke black coat on the back of the sofa. He either has forgotten it or decided to listen to her for once as she confidentially told him, he wouldn’t need it. “It’s just foggy, but dry,” she recalls herself saying. Well, it’s raining now, so there is that. It must be the latter, as the coat is eye-catching due to the contrast from the dark textile to the white leather the settee is wrapped in. Not her choice, she doesn’t like the cooling effect of the material nor the gloomy vibe from the dead animal skin. That’s why there is a nicely folded blanket on her side near the window. It isn’t pure white but has a creamy touch to it. The mismatching shade is an absolute sore spot to Nichkhun, as he wants his living room to be kept in a perfect balance between ultimate black and white. It’s almost as if he is allergic to colors and Sohee absolutely misses it. Leaving those out, however, does make the room appear larger, luxurious and most importantly professional. On the other hand also a lot chillier and impersonal in her eyes. Not even the pictures on the wall, the awards or trophies could change that impression. It’s just like out of a catalog, she catches herself thinking and a sigh escapes her lips.

He has ordered it online for her, it said “pure white,” in the description, not eggshell! Everyone knows the risk of trusting an Amazon picture. His mistake is a happy accident for her and the blanket is a little triumph. Even though it only has a hint of color it still warms her physically and mentally as it feels homey and that’s why he allowed her to keep it. But she understands his pernickety, as he uses a part of the living room as his workplace. It functions as galleria, as well as a studio. So yes, they do sometimes have important guests over and on those days she doesn’t nag about the neatness. She would be strict too if she would sell her work here. Her work. Those words are almost foreign now. It feels like it’s been forever since she actually acquainted her work to someone. Actually, her last customer has been Nichkhun, that’s how they met. But since she has never seen her work, she figured that he has faked his interest to get to know her. Ever since she found out she is in a quandary if she should feel flattered or hurt about it, but decides to go with the first. Except for this circumstance he has always been open and honest with her. Like how he felt about her working, he doesn’t like it. It’s a true man’s duty to care for the family, and a wife should be the emotional pillar, he had said. She always thought that this is such an outdated way of thinking. Therefore hasn’t exactly been happy when he first mentioned it. It’s not that she was totally against it either. She has always planned to be someone who sees her children growing up, preparing lunch boxes, helping with homework, and eating dinners as a family - things that were important to her. She just always thought that she wouldn’t have to worry or even think about it until much later in her life. But at her age? What to do the whole day at home? To be fair, she hadn’t even thought of marrying before she has met him either. That’s the thing with life, it takes surprising turns and twists, and Sohee always has been an adventurous one. Of course, she was scared, marriage is a huge step that seemed so mature and absolutely not her. But she also figured that it probably belonged to those things one can never be truly prepared of, like parenthood. You just have to follow your gut feelings and do your best to make it work. Her mother was more than thrilled, Nichkhun has always been Mr. Handsome and the perfect man in her eyes. Until the actual wedding day, she has almost chewed her an ear off, by constantly reminding her how lucky she is, how she never would find such a fine man again, aside from not really having a real job that pays bills anyway. Sohee had argued against the last point because she has somehow managed well. But she also saw her mothers complaints to be true in the long run. Still, it was brutal to sell her belongings and had to let go. At the beginning, she had difficulties to adapt to her new married life. This world is a completely different from the previous one, the one she came from. She never regretted her choice, but there were times when she misses the little apartment she used to share with Sunmi, despite its many flaws. Sunmi still own the first sculpture she ever made, and in the broken plank in their once shared kitchen, she has hidden her first set of chisels inherited from her great grandfather. They weren’t valuable anymore and more of a memento and so they became a part of the time capsule she and Sunmi made when they moved in. They hadn’t had a lot of money, and they constantly had to battle against mold, the faucet in the kitchen keeps on dripping (it still does), the oven sounded as if it would explode by every use, a balcony with a concerning fissure, the fridge needed to be taped shut, and all in all the only truly working thing was the water cooker, and it was absolutely charming. They had the walls covered with different kind of textiles and clothes almost too epileptic colorful. That’s because Sunmi dreamed of becoming a fashion designer, she certainly has the weirdness to be one. She models for living, can be utterly pessimistic or extremely positive and there is no in between, and she is the most amazing person to go and drink with. Because she knows a handful of magic tricks, mostly with cards from her strange trickster uncle. Yes, some bizarre characters can be found in her family.
Sohee has always thought Sunmi would hit big and move out before her. It’s been odd to leave her best friend behind. Luckily there were no hard feelings and Sunmi even has designed her wedding dress. It was very beautiful but odd.

A smile creeps over her face at the thought of her Sunmi while making a little memo to go with her to that cupcake-bar she has been swooning all week. As long as they didn’t try to sell her bean-filled cupcakes of course!
The muffled sound of the gust hitting the building startles her. It's still alienating, in her old apartment she has heard the wind whistle through the badly insulated windows. Here, there is barely any sound. Not even water dripples can be seen on the huge window front, as the rain comes from another direction. The raindrops also confound perfectly with the dull the city and the cloudy weather. Everything blends into different layers of grey. In fact, she only assumes it's raining because the street has become significantly darker and here and there puddles form and mold together. Umbrellas are dancing around each other, each deliberating cautiously not to touch one and another, and the slight difference of air pressure with every stronger whiff.

She loves this kind of weather and cherishes days like these. She likes listening to the pelt, the scent of the rain that makes the air feel so pure and clear on skin and in the lungs, as if the rain cleansed it, and the whiff that plays with her hair. Those were some of the reasons why she always wanted