“Hello?” Namjoo called out when she suddenly stopped hearing him. “Hello? Sir?”

“What is it?” Bo Young asked leaning far over the desk.

“What the hell…” Namjoo muttered before handing her the phone.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoo shrugged. “I’m going to head off now, see you.”

“Good night.”

After dropping the binder off Namjoo grabbed her bag and was ready to leave, but instinct stopped her in her steps.

“I need you right now.”

Namjoo ran his words over her head and felt her heart flutter for a moment. Shaking her head furiously she shivered.

Laughing to herself she said, “Don’t go there, Namjoo, don’t go there.”

Another step forward brought her to another halt. He’d sounded pretty sick over the phone. What if his fever still hadn’t gone away?

Namjoo ran the few options still available in her head before groaning again.

About half an hour later she found herself standing on Luhan’s doorstep again. She had to admit she felt stupid for doing this and reminded herself it was only because she was a good person.

Knocking on the door she called out, “Sir?”

No reply just like last night.

Namjoo closed her eyes in almost disbelief before knocking again.

“Sir.”

There was no reply. Heaving a deep sigh she reached for the doorknob to find that it was as unlocked as ever.

Slowly pushing it open she stuck her head in first and peered around before she spotted someone on the floor. As she closed the door behind her she felt like crying out in frustration. Why was he knocked out again? Would she really have to carry him to his bedroom?

Lightly gritting her teeth she stepped forward and bent down. His phone had dropped beside him and she realized he hadn’t hung up yet. Ending the call she turned to shake him awake.

“Sir?” Namjoo called out. “Sir…”

When he still didn’t wake, Namjoo let out a loud sigh of remorse. She really dejected the idea of carrying him again.

To her luck he slowly opened his eyes to look up at her. Caught by surprise Namjoo immediately stood.

“You’re awake?”

She watched him press his palm to the side of his head and grimace in pain before sitting on the couch. Namjoo watched him almost pitifully suddenly taking it as an understanding that he didn’t do anything for himself. Turning on her heels she walked into the kitchen. One look into the pot told her that he hadn’t touched the porridge she’d made.

Switching the stove on to reheat it she then turned to head back toward him. Inviting herself to sit down on the couch she pulled a bandage wrap out of her bag along with some medication she’d taken from hospital.

“I thought I told you to go to the hospital,” Namjoo stated. “Give me your hand. You need to change the bandage if you don’t want to get an infection.”

After unwrapping the bandage Namjoo took a long look at the unruly cut on his wrist. It was like a deep dry red canyon with ancient red grass growing at the surface. Without further say she grabbed the new bandage, unrolled it, and started wrapping it gently around his wrist.

“Let me know if it’s too tight,” she told.

As the silence crept in she thought about how he’d cried last night so despairingly. How his voice cracked, the way his tears seeped through his clamped eyes, and how his sobs echoed into the apartment. Namjoo had never seen a man cry before and she didn’t know they could cry like that. Men and women, she thought, were the same after all. To her, he didn’t look like a person who would cry easily, but despite that she wondered why he did it. What kind of awful things happened to him? Why had he cut himself? Why was he prepared for death in such a way?

Namjoo’s heart went out to him, but she couldn’t say anything. She just knew that it must have been really difficult for him and because it wasn’t her place to probe, she didn’t say anything.

“I brought you some medicine, it’s better to have them after you eat.” Namjoo explained as she finished with the new bandage. She took to pulling out the rest of the supplies she’d brought with her. “I brought you some extra bandages too in case you need some more.”

After she’d pulled out all she’d brought with her she turned to look around the apartment she’d cleaned last night. She could tell from one look that he hadn’t taken to touching anything and she assumed he lived alone.

“If your fever doesn’t subside by tomorrow morning, I think you should come to the hospital, Sir,” Namjoo explained standing up.

“Don’t call me Sir,” he corrected as if she'd insulted him.

Namjoo glanced down at him.

He glanced up at her and looked away as if he hated eye contact, “I’m not that old.”

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I wasn’t sure what to call you.”

“My name’s Luhan. I’d rather be called that than Sir.”

He was somewhat interesting, Namjoo thought, although she couldn’t depict whether he was having a temper or not. Bo Young had said he sounded angry over the phone, but he didn’t look that angry.

Heading toward the kitchen she checked on the porridge, stirred it some, and waited in front of the stove before finally turning it off. As she searched for a bowl she expected to hear him tell her not to go through his stuff, but none of it was said to her. It was almost as if he didn’t give a damn at all.

Namjoo glanced toward Luhan and found him staring into space as he had yesterday again. What was he thinking about?

Scooping some porridge into the bowl she walked back to him and set them on the little table beside the couch.

“At least have a few bites before you take the medicine,” Namjoo suggested then reached over for her bag. “You should stock up on your food. It’s not good to eat so much microwavable foods or instant noodles. You should balance out your diet.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was listening to her or if she was just talking to herself.

Withholding a sigh she went on, “Do you have any friends or family?”

No reply yet again.

“If you need something, call the hospital,” Namjoo told and started to turn, but stopped upon his voice.

“I don’t want to,” Luhan sounded bratty. “I don’t like the hospital. Just give me your number instead.”

Namjoo turned to look at him surprised by the sudden demand. Luhan looked back up at her and she couldn’t see a trace of joke in his face.

She wanted to tell him that she was no caretaker, she was just a nurse. Her days off were her personal hours, but on the other hand it also sounded like she was jumping ahead to conclusions and it would make her sound rude.

Withholding another sigh she drew out her notepad and pen before scribbling her number down, “Here.”

“Your name?”

Why did it suddenly feel like she was being interviewed?

“Kim Namjoo.”

When she left she was confused about what just happened. Deciding to think nothing of it she headed home.

Namjoo enjoyed herself a very long shower the next morning before sitting down to an ideal meal of scrambled eggs, rice, and coffee. Her apartment wasn’t very spacious, but it was satisfying enough for her. She had a good view of the streets below and could even see the Hangang River from where she was. As traffic became busier that early morning she took to enjoying the music coming from her phone while cozily eating away. The silence made her spirits feel high as if she’d transcended into another dimension of heaven.

This was just the kind of life she’d always yearned for; sitting in solitude enjoying days off by the view of the window, overlooking her beloved hometown. This was the greatest kind of life she could ask for and she didn’t need anyone, but herself to enjoy it with. Namjoo liked quiet and calm. She most liked being by herself. There was no pressure to make conversation, laugh, or share stories about herself. She could just sit alone and think of nothing at all and she loved that.  

Namjoo hadn’t had such a peaceful morning in a whole week and she felt like she’d been blessed that morning. Her hectic schedule seemed to have finally ended. There was no call from work and no call from any acquaintance requesting her presence. Just as she was certain, everything had fallen back into order after a few nights.

This was her life. Order, solitude, and silence; things she was most familiar with.  

There was a lunch date with Chae Yoon and she planned on having the rest of the evening to herself before returning to work. Everything was as well her way again.

Namjoo took to lying around after breakfast enjoying the kids’ cartoon on TV, laughing mildly at their jokes. She even took to snacking a bit and a ten minute nap. All was well until she awoke to the ringing of the doorbell.

At first she was confused about what was going on before she wondered if Chae Yoon had come over to nag at her. Getting up she headed toward the door all the while adjusting her hair.

“Who is it?” Namjoo called out.

“It’s your Auntie Jin!”

Aunt Jin was the chattery Aunt who most stopped by daily when Namjoo still lived with her mother. She could go on for hours just talking without even a drop of water to refresh . Namjoo even fell asleep once while she talked away and the woman hadn’t taken to noticing it.

Sometimes Namjoo really wanted to avoid the woman.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoo greeted upon opening the door.

Aunt Jin was a widow. Her husband had died due to poor health and ever since the woman hadn’t taken to remarrying. Namjoo often let the woman have her way because she felt her Aunt was just lonely, sometimes that didn’t seem like the case though.

Namjoo’s Aunt Jin was a petite woman on the heavy side with a peculiarly long face. She liked to keep her hair short and permed because she believed it was the trend and still was. There was a mole just above her lips that she was proud of. There were instances where she even took to coloring the mole for fun.

Aunt Jin was holding a paper bag and without waiting for invitation waltzed in.

“Your house is so clean!” The woman commented as she breezed in. “You don’t have work today?”

“I have off,” Namjoo replied closing the door and turned to follow.

“I was just stopping by. I just came from the mart as you can see, so I wanted to drop something off for you. You’re eating well?”

“Of course,” Namjoo replied watching Aunt Jin place the paper bag onto her little square table. “You didn’t have to. I still have mom’s food I haven’t finished…”

“Oh these are from the mart,” her Aunt explained. “Have some more. You’re going to need to put on some weight if you ever want to have children.”

Laughing in a baffled manner at how far her Aunt was thinking Namjoo found herself almost speechless.

“Have you eaten?” Namjoo switched the topic. “I still have some rice if you’re hungry.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about me.” The woman shrugged her off. “Anyway, what were we talking about earlier?”

“We were talking about something?” Namjoo asked.

“Oh yes,” Aunt Jin recalled and turned to look at her, “I saw Ki Chan’s mother at the mart.”

Namjoo stared at the woman as if she didn’t know what she was talking about.

“That young gentleman you brought home a few times. Oh, I like him so much. He’s so kind and polite,” her Aunt chirpily commented. “If only I was younger…”

Namjoo laughed awkwardly for the woman and eyed the many items she was placing on her table. She almost wondered if her Aunt had stopped by on purpose.

“Anyway,” her Aunt went on, “I heard his younger sister is getting married? Did you know?”

“Yes,” Namjoo answered, “he told me about it.”

Aunt Jin’s eyes dropped wide and her lips curved into an “O” shape.

“Really!?” She sounded excited. “Are you going to the wedding?”

“I…” Namjoo began, but was cut off.

“Definitely go!” Aunt Jin seemingly demanded. “That boy likes you, I’m sure of it! Hook up with him, Namjoo. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Please, it’s nothing like that.” Namjoo shook her head.

“What are you talking about?! I can see from the way he looks at you! He’s in love!” Her Aunt went on. “What have you got to lose? You graduated from college; you have a career and money!”

Namjoo hated marriage talk. Every time anyone talked to her about it it only felt like they were pressuring her. She knew Aunt Jin was after something. No one just stopped by like this.

“I have to get going,” Namjoo glanced at the clock and walked over.

“A date?” Aunt Jin asked.

“Yes, with Chae Yoon,” Namjoo answered grabbing her Aunt’s small shoulders. “If I’m late she’s going to be upset. Thanks for coming by and for the food. I appreciate it.”

“But…I’m not done talking…” Aunt Jin turned around to look at her.

Namjoo smiled at her before opening the door, “Drive back safe, Aunt Jin.”

And once she had the door closed on the woman she let out a loud sigh. After putting the food away Namjoo finally headed out. Chae Yoon was waiting for her at a one of their usual restaurants.

“You’re almost late again,” Chae Yoon commented when she sat down.

The smell of burnt pork was swirling throughout the air and Namjoo almost felt nauseous. Waving her hand in front of her to drive the scent away Namjoo grabbed her cup of ice cold water with her free hand.

“Aunt Jin stopped by,” Namjoo replied.

“Why?” Chae Yoon asked. “Something happen at home?”

“No way,” Namjoo waved her hand in front of her again with a shake of the head. “You know how she is. She just loves talking. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.”

Pulling her purse toward her she pulled out the card Ki Chan had handed her and slid it toward Chae Yoon.

“Ki Chan’s younger sister is getting married. We’re invited.”

“Ooohh…” she sounded grabbing the card to look at it. “He probably just wants you to go.”

“Nuh-uh,” Namjoo shook her head.

Chae Yoon looked up at her with a smirk, “Alright then, since you might feel uncomfortable I’ll go with you.”

Namjoo snorted at her before their ingredients for their barbeque arrived.

“Can I get some beer with this too?” Chae Yoon asked.

“Why?” Namjoo asked. “In the middle of the day?”

Chae Yoon nodded and Namjoo suddenly recalled how she wanted to talk the other day.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoo worried.

“I’m just feeling depressed lately,” Chae Yoon’s eyes dropped toward the table. “I have a lot of regrets, that’s all.”

Namjoo narrowed her eyes, “About who?”

“Just…someone I wronged.”

Namjoo continued staring at her depressed friend.

“I really miss him, but I don’t think he’ll want to see me.”

“Who is he?” Namjoo asked.