A man sat distantly in his chair; wearing a white shirt that opened up to his well built chest, with black trousers and slippers in his feet, his hair a slight mess. He sat in his chair, glancing ever so often at the clock that hung on the wall. A photo album lay in his lap as he slowly went through it. Looking and admiring the pictures that it contained. He had been doing that for a couple of days maybe more, he had lost count. As he waited his patients grew vary. He would wait like this every day, waiting for his wife to comeback from her walk around the neighbourhood. It worried him immensely hoping and praying that she would come back to him or at least let him in. He looked at the pictures desperately clinging on to the feeling, the feeling of happiness, love and being wanted, wanted by her. He stopped, staring at the wedding photo that now mocked him. How perfect everything was in his world, how perfect they were. He shut his eyes tightly trying to push away the pain that he felt deep inside. He was losing her and there was nothing that he could do. He tried approaching her, talking to her. But the more he did the more she pushed him away to the point where he stopped trying. They had only been married 6 month, been together 5 years. In a short space of one month everything fell apart as his world crumbled around him. He recalled in his mind how they met, the only thing he had left now was their memories. As pathetic as that sounded that is all he had left to hold on to until she made her way back to him.

It was an early Sunday morning the sun had just begun to rise. A young man wearing a white shirt and track suit bottoms ran around the neighbourhood like he did everyday. Music in his ears, his phone tight around his arm as the sweat dripped down his face, his shirt drenched. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed rather lost maybe drunk girl. He watched as the girl stumbled while trying to walk. He peered his eyes looking at her from head to toe. She wore a white t-shirt, dark faded jeans with white coloured killer high heels. A bag on her right shoulder, she held a piece of paper in her right hand, holding the handle of her suitcase with her left. She was clearly lost. He went standing behind her. “Are you okay?” He inquired. She jumped startled by the unfamiliar voice she didn’t think anybody would be up at this hour. She turned facing him, slightly gasping at his features. He certainly was very good looking. Even with sweat streaming down his face he looked good. “You’re not drunk are you?” He asked wondering why she hadn’t answered him. He slightly regretted what he said, looking at her more closely. She looked gorgeous from afar, but up close she looked like a goddess. He had concluded that she was far too pretty to be the drinking type, well at least the heavy drinking type. She was most definitely lost. “Excuse me?” She replied rather annoyed by his question. Did she really look drunk? “Oww…” He waved his hands in mid air. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He was desperately trying to clear his misconception of her not wanting to cause a misunderstanding. Her voice was rather sweet as he thought to himself. “It’s just that…” “I’m lost.” She finished his sentence as if reading his mind. She was relieved that someone was up so early in the morning, hoping to get out of her killer heels. “I’ll help…” He concluded smiling brightly as he took her suit case from her.

He lay in his bed staring at the wall his back to her. Even though she was lying next to him she felt miles apart. Different thoughts were running through his mind, one particular thought that wouldn’t leave him alone. How he would wake up every morning to find the spot on the bed next to him empty and cold as if she had been gone a while. He turned facing her as he pretended to sleep. He felt her body move on the bed next to him she was getting up to leave. He had to do something, stop her. He had in his time of desperation thought of leaving her, walking away from it all. But stopped himself, he wasn’t the type to walk away from something, especially her. He loved her far too much and even though she didn’t say it, she needed him as he needed her. He got up grabbing her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Jessica please…” He breathed out in his desperate plea in hopes of keeping his wife from leaving their bed again like she had been doing. She ignored him, ignoring his rather desperate plea trying to pull her wrist free from his grasp. But he wasn’t having any of it. He motioned himself of the bed as he wrapped his arms around her small frame holding her tightly. She continued to protest sobbing loudly hitting herself against him, in an attempt to get away from him. “Please Hero… Please let me go.” She sobbed calling him by the nickname she loved so much. She continued her violent protest hoping that at some point he would let her go, but he didn’t instead he held her tighter. She couldn’t face him she needed to be alone. She just wanted the pain to stop to go away. She was in grief, in mourning. “No.” He replied in a stern voice not loosening his hold on her. “Please…” She cried again. He loosened his grasp on her, only to turn her around so that she was facing him. It hurt him to see her like this. “Dimmitt Jessica…” He said rather coldly his eyes focused on her. “Im your husband for crying out loud… Let me in.” He looked down at her practically screaming the last part in frustration. He was tired, as he stood waiting for her response. She stood still not moving a muscle. She didn’t know what to do or how to find her way back to him as she stared at the ground. She had pushed herself so far away from him, allowing the depression to take over her. She didn’t know how to let him in. She felt fragile, weak and useless not being able to complete small tasks without breaking down. She didn’t feel worthy of his love anymore. She didn’t want him to know how weak and fragile she really was. He gave a long sigh as he shut his eyes tightly wrapping his arms around her. “If you don’t let it out…” He gently patted the back of her head in attempts of comforting her. He missed holding her like this. He missed the feeling of her silky hair against his finger and the beautiful smell of her shampoo. “You’ll never be free of it. Please Jessica, I love you.” He whispered in her ear with utmost love and tender. She melted dropping the shield that she had held up keeping the world around her out. She clinched his shirt tightly in her hands as she sobbed on his shirt practically soaking it. He didn’t care he just wanted her back, his Jessica back. “Im sorry” She said against his chest which came out more like a whisper. He pulled away kissing her on the forehead, letting his lips linger there for a while. He looked down, lifting her head with his thumb and index finger meeting her gaze. Her eyes puffy and blood shot, he didn’t notice. All he noticed was her beauty and thanked god to have her in his life. He shook his head. “No… I’m sorry.” He said as he pulled her close again, holding her ever so gently. “I love you.” She breathed out as she hugged him tighter as if he was going to leave her. She breathed in his manly scent tightening her hold around his waist. She missed his worth him holding her like this like nothing else matters.  A smile crept up on his face, knowing that they were going to be okay, because she had let him in. It was a small victory, but a victory none the less.

For he would always be her Hero Jaejoong and she would always be his angel his angel Jessica.