⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Sehun watched Namjoo disappear around the corner again. A faint part of him saddened. Knowing he would always be watching her walk away.

Backing up he closed the door. Kihoon was still occupied with his toys. Today there had been no excuse to get Namjoo to stay. He couldn’t lie about not eating breakfast again and asking her to eat with him.

Sitting down on the couch he watched Kihoon never mind him. Absorbed in his imaginary world where trucks could fly, the ground was the sea, there was no expiration dates, no feeble humans existed, necessities were free, no one and nothing ever experienced pain. If Sehun could join that illusionary world he would never hesitate.

Appearing carefree Kihoon never once glanced his way, as if he had never missed his father at all. The exact way Namjoo never let her emotions become visible. Suppose he was the same. Afraid expressing too much only made him vulnerable.

Afraid of rejection. Didn’t want to be turned away. So many fears chasing his tail every day all the time.

Actually, he knew. Some day Namjoo’s mother would want her to meet with a nice man. Whose family adored her. Respected her. Treated her the way she should always be valued. Only that way could she live a full life of prosperity. Kihoon would grow up witnessing his mother’s blooming life and learn to treat his wife the same.

Namjoo would never have to walk around with eyes glaring at the back of her head. With disdain weighing her shoulders. Fully aware there was someone in the family that would always reject her.

Someone would give Namjoo the life she always deserved.

“Broken,” Kihoon ran over to him. Showing him a battery-operated car that would no longer turn on. “Fix for me.”

Some nice man would fix Namjoo’s misaligned pieces so she could shine wholly.

Sehun glanced at Kihoon standing close by. His child. Possessing similar features. Reminiscing the first time he met Namjoo at the night club. The first night they just sat together in his bedroom. When Namjoo gave birth and he met his son finally. A little thing that just wanted to be held. Recalling the moment he hugged Kihoon skin to skin. To the moment they brought him home becoming a family of three.

Their child.

Oh Kihoon gave him everything he ever needed. A family. Love.

For every day of his life he made a vow to always try harder. To give his son a prosperous childhood, so he could grow up like other children. Happily without regard to the dark side of life. Kihoon would have everything and not lack anything. He would never have to be jealous of the next kid.

But…Sehun couldn’t fight against Namjoo’s beloved mother. Giving up halfway because he understood a parent’s love for his child. It would kill him if Kihoon was ever mistreated. Because how difficult it must have been for Namjoo’s mother to see her living that kind of life with him?

“Give daddy a hug.” Sehun said.

“My car,” Kihoon pouted.

He nodded with arms held open for Kihoon first. Giving in Kihoon took a small step toward him. Enveloping his arms tightly around his son Sehun held him close.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

The flowers died a little more each day. The green stems turning a sickly shade between yellow and brown. She searched through the internet for tips to keep the flowers alive longer, but anything she tried did not work. Several days later the lilies started drooping hopelessly. Still she didn’t toss the flowers out. Letting them rot on her counter.

Then the days went by and the dinner closed in on her. Namjoo fidgeted with work. Kept herself so occupied that she wouldn’t think about Sehun’s parents. Whether they would say anything to her or ignore her like the strangers they’d become. Praying it would be the latter when she saw them again.

Friday evening crawled in like the monster under her bed waiting for her to turn the lights off. Namjoo was pulling out a simple dress from the closet. Gripping onto the hanger more tightly than she should. A part of her quaked anxiously. Also reminding herself she didn’t have to say anything to Sehun’s parents when she saw them. A smile, a nod of the head was good enough of a greeting. Besides it wasn’t like they’d want to chat with her.

Right?

Namjoo’s throat became dry by the time she slipped into the dress. Staring at herself in the mirror. Pulled her hair up. Let it hang down. Unable to decide how she wanted to look for a simple dinner to congratulate Doyoon. Did it matter? She wasn’t the center of attention tonight, but it felt like she would be.

Because of Sehun’s parents.

Namjoo bit her lip. Forget the hair.

Hurriedly dabbing on some makeup so she wouldn’t embarrass herself by looking pale and sick, she found her flats and left the house. Speeding down the road. Slowing enough that she got honked at. Speeding up again and braking so hard at the red lights she slammed into the steering wheel.

Already tense, because she was almost there.

One glance outside the window and the sun was already setting. Food would have been prepared by now. The tables set. Hayoung’s husband probably looking over his notes for the tiny speech he wanted to give. Giving thanks to his family’s support; to all the friends attending and congratulating him on a successful life.

An eon ago she had been a part of that crowd. Tending the kitchen with the women during family events. Rushing to get all the foods cooked on time. Slipping in and out of the kitchen in order to ensure all the tables were filled with drinks, snacks, napkins. All the trays had spatulas and tongs so the guests could readily self serve. Make certain each and every body was comfortable. Show them the way to the bathroom. Where the garbage was.

That stressful environment that killed her feet by the end of the day. Namjoo remembered every detail of it. How she curled up in bed and drifted fast asleep. Leaving Sehun to wash and change Kihoon before joining her.

Sehun’s mother would have made herself an honorary part of that group. Taking lead. Telling the younger and new wives how to do things. Not like that but like this. Do it properly. Only her way was the right way.

A part of Namjoo was glad she was not one of those ladies being chided.

Pulling into the parking lot of the venue Namjoo searched for an open spot. Over half the space was already full with vehicles. Guests arriving on schedule. All of them family that she didn’t know. Some she may have met before.

Would they question her when they saw her?

Uneasiness spread through her when she turned the engine off. Sehun had said he was here already. They could switch Kihoon tonight. It was the weekend anyway and she could have him early since she was coming.

Inhaling and exhaling, Namjoo grabbed her purse. She couldn’t sit in the car forever. She had to do this because she’d given her word. It wouldn’t look good for her to suddenly cancel and back out. She wasn’t an immature teenager.

Stepping out of her car she turned around to stare up at the hotel where the dinner was reserved in one of the first-floor ballrooms. Every hotel room glowed yellow. Its occupants inside unaware of the world out there. Safe in their quarters unlike her.

Entering the building Namjoo crossed the linoleum flooring. Leather seats and white marbled tables flanked her. Distinguished waiters in white and black moved around. Carrying round trays. Serving refined guests reading business magazines or catching up on news events with the daily paper. Men in suits. Women fashionably dressed in high end clothing. Each one of them very quiet around her like this was the library.

A bright wooden reception desk was busily checking guests out and checking them in. The gleaming counter full of life and thriving with energy. The lights glowed around her as if establishing a certain fact that she was too different.

Smoothing her dress Namjoo found her way to the ballroom. The tall doors were propped open. There was no door greeter. First, Namjoo poked her head inside. Seeing bustling bodies mashed together. The energy was higher here. The chatter livelier. There were smiley faces, a lot of laughter, and too many heads for her to count. Namjoo recognized no one.

Through the throng of people where was Sehun? Kihoon?

Gulping, Namjoo stepped inside. Feeling like a sheep joining a flock of classy flamingos. Standing awkwardly by the doorway unsure where to start. All the guests were well dressed. No one was wearing jeans, t-shirts, or hats. Even the children were dressed up.

She staggered forward when a burst of wind bumped into her. Glancing down she saw Kihoon. Widely grinning up at her. His hair was slicked to the side revealing his generous forehead. Dressed cutely in a dress shirt with a vest and ironed pants to match.

“Mommy.” He called.

Just like that everything felt ok. All her worries melted.

“They’ve started a bit early,” Sehun explained.

“I see.” Namjoo said. “You dressed him up.”

His gaze darted away from her. “Mom made me.”

Glancing down at Kihoon with a smile she gently touched his hair. “You do his hair, too?”

“I did my best,” he sounded embarrassed.

“It’s neat.”

“Mommy! Chocolate,” Kihoon tugged her hand.

“They’re serving dessert,” Sehun told.

“Just a little bit, ok?” Namjoo took Kihoon’s hand and followed Sehun.

“They’ve already started lining up for food,” Sehun said. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll get you a plate. I’m sitting at the corner table over there,” he pointed across the room. “Get Kihoon something and I’ll come find you.”

Namjoo opened to tell him it was ok. She didn’t need to eat, but he was already out of earshot pushing his way through a crowd. Pressing her lips together she returned to Kihoon.

Honestly, she felt much safer with Sehun. What if she ran into his parents? What would they say? Did they know she was coming?

After filling a clear plastic plate with sweets for Kihoon she eased her way through the crowd in the direction of Sehun’s table. Hoping she found the right one when they sat down. A circular table draped in classic white cloth. The surrounding chairs were empty, so she assumed they were sitting alone.

Kihoon happily kicked his legs under the table as he started gobbling the desserts. Namjoo still didn’t know who to interact with. Unable to find Hayoung through the crowd. Seeing all the unfamiliar faces surrounding them.

“Kihoon!” A woman called out. “There you are! Grandma was looking all over for you.”

Namjoo froze. Experiencing a tremor before she turned to look at Sehun’s mother. Prettily dressed up. Wearing makeup and noticeable lipstick. A familiar look fluctuated across her eyes.

“Granma, I eating.” Kihoon announced the obvious.

The woman smiled sweetly at him. Turning it off when she glanced at Namjoo. “Why, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yes, I,” Namjoo glanced away, “Hayoung came to see me. I thought I should come for a bit.”

“You needn’t to,” Sehun’s mother stiffly said. “But of course, you should come see how well Hayoung and Doyoon are doing. An astonishing woman like Hayoung uplifts her husband. A man needs an intelligent woman like my daughter. So don’t leave before you see them.”

“Of course.” Namjoo pulled on a smile. “I should congratulate him.”

“Now, about Kihoon’s education,” Sehun’s mother went on, “have you talked about it?”

“We…” Namjoo started but she was cut off.

“We’re deciding on a school nearby. It’s the same one Sehun attended when he was younger. The teachers are notable,” Sehun’s mother said. “There’s nothing to think about. Sign Kihoon up by the end of the year. Don’t be too picky about where to send him. Kihoon’s grandfather and I have already thought it over carefully. As Kihoon’s mother, you should do what’s best for him. If there’s anything else that needs to be talked about, Sehun and I will figure it out.”

“I understand.” Namjoo answered.

“Mom.” It was Sehun. Pausing several steps away.

Now the woman’s expression became two stages different than before. Filled with animosity like she wanted to hiss. Seeing her son with a woman who gave him the divorce papers six months ago.

“Well,” his mother began.

Flustered, Sehun pulled out the seat on the other side of Kihoon and sat down. Anxiety flushed through Namjoo when Sehun put the plate of food he’d come with in front of her. Gave her napkins and a bottle of water. Heart maddeningly beating because Sehun was doing something for her.

“There you are,” Sehun’s father called out. Hesitating to approach when he spotted her.

In that moment Namjoo felt like she was the monster from under the bed that had showed herself for the first time.

There was no need for warm greetings. Sehun’s parents ended up sitting at his table. Kihoon focused on his sweets as the air grew chill over them. Namjoo couldn’t eat. Unable to swallow the food. She hadn’t even picked up the fork to mix up her plate.

“How is the restaurant?” his father asked. Probably because it was easier mentioning something he didn’t care about than about her and Sehun.

“It’s doing well.” Namjoo replied.

“Of course it is,” his mother spitefully said.

Namjoo’s eyes dipped toward the table. His parents never liked her restaurant.

“I hope your parents are fine,” Sehun’s father said taking a sip from his glass of champagne.

“Yes, they are.” Namjoo said.

“About Kihoon’s education,” Sehun’s father started.

“No need,” Sehun’s mother interjected. “We’ve already spoken about it.”

Sehun glanced at her.

“Namjoo and I have already come to an agreement,” Sehun’s mother pressed. “Kihoon will attend the school Sehun did.”

“Mom,” it was Sehun. A deep frown crossed his face.

“What?” his mother questioned. “It is a prestigious school. I’m acquainted with the board of education.”

Meaning she could look after Kihoon. Interfere with his studies. Decide, herself, what was best for him.

“I said I’ll think about it,” Namjoo spoke up. Sehun’s mother flashed her a fast glare. Namjoo’s gaze swayed.

“What are you talking about?” the woman chided. “This is the best possible option for Sehun’s son. We’re his grandparents. We should be able to say something since you’re so busy with your life.”

“Mom!” Sehun raised his voice.

Every occupant at the next table peered over their shoulders to stare at them.

Heaving a sigh, Sehun’s father tried calmly, “You should listen to her.” Speaking to Namjoo rather than the son that had called his own mother out. “You’re Kihoon’s mother. You should put Kihoon’s future first. For a child to do well, his learning needs to start from young. Sehun’s mother is right. She knows what’s best. You should listen to her. Just sign Kihoon up.”

With them, it would always be like this. Oppressed, controlled by their decision making. In their point of view, she didn’t know any better.

“Hi, Kihoon!” A voice dismantled the tension.

“Hayoung!” Sehun’s mother turned to greet her daughter. Suddenly beaming with pride and joy. A rare kind of face Namjoo never saw, because Hayoung was married and didn’t live with them. “It’s so good to see you. Aren’t you just beautiful?”

Namjoo eyed the blazer Hayoung was wearing over her dress. It was warm inside. Why didn’t she take it off?

“Well, hello there,” Doyoon greeted Kihoon who just stared at the unfamiliar face. Her son glanced at her for help.

“Say hi,” Namjoo directed.

“Hi.” It came out a weak whisper from shy Kihoon.

“I left Kihoon’s diaper bag in the car,” Hayoung turned to Sehun. “You said he was going over to his mom’s.” She grinned at Namjoo. “Wouldn’t it be easier to get it to her now?”

“What?” Sehun asked confused.

Reaching into her pocket, Hayoung handed him a key. Looking at her, she said, “You should go with him.”

Namjoo’s eyes slid from the sister to the brother. Figuring it was much better outside than glued here with Sehun’s parents she got up. Saying to Kihoon, “Mommy will be right back, ok?”

Sehun shot Hayoung a strange look as they turned to walk away.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Sehun muttered when they walked out. He stared at the key in his palm. Pausing midway through the lobby and held it up to the light.

“What?” Namjoo asked.

Lowering his hand, Sehun stared at the key like it was a jigsaw puzzle he needed to figure out. He blinked several times. Finally turning to look at her. “It’s the key to the house.”

“What?” Namjoo asked again unable to understand what was going on.

Sehun was silent a moment. “I didn’t bring the diaper bag. Hayoung never stopped by the house either.”

Namjoo glanced down the hall toward the ballroom where its attendants had already forgotten about them.

“I stopped by the house with Kihoon earlier,” Sehun said. “I can go get the bag.”

Namjoo turned then looked at him. Did she want to go back? Sit and have another chat with his parents?

***So, what are the monsters in your lives? The ones that live in your head or the ones you face daily?

***Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm not doing anything until Saturday, so I'm free and writing today :D