Namjoo tugged her wrist back but he refused to release her, conflicted. At last, after giving her wrist a last squeeze he let go allowing her take the packet away from him. Even as Namjoo sank back into her seat his eyes glued themselves onto her stubbornly.

“Can we talk?” Yeji asked, her eyes obviously burning a hole into the side of his face. Then grounding her voice with a steely depth, “Alone.”

His jaw tightened, his insides warning Namjoo not to get up. As if pressured by his internal screaming Namjoo remained where she was, unmoved, but it was only for a flat second. In the next, she was up and out the door. A deploring wave of disappointment washed over Jongin and he turned to see the door closing.

Rising from where he was he walked back toward his desk asking, “What do you want?”

On his tail, Yeji said, “Did you get the invitation?”

“You had to come here for that?”

“Well, if I didn’t I would have missed the show,” the sarcasm was strong in her voice.

Irate, Jongin turned around and leaned against his desk to eye her. “What I do in my office is my own private affair. It’s not for you to stick your nose in.”

She scoffed, “Is that your objective for reeling Namjoo into your business? You’re cheaper than I imagined.”

Jongin gulped down the flaming annoyance threatening to coil up his throat, urging him to cuss at her.

“You really do think you can get away with keeping her here, don’t you?” she asked. “Even after your future wife asked you to get rid of her.”

“Future wife?” Jongin sneered. “Between the two of us, there’s no we. I’d suggest if you still want to play house, look for your playmate elsewhere.”

“Are you talking about yourself?” Yeji shot. “Because the way I see it, your playmate no longer wants to play with you.”

Jongin’s hand turned into a fist by his side. A snarky smile grew across her lips.

“Come,” she spoke with demand, “this weekend. My father expects you there. Or else,” she traced her finger over his shoulder. Shooting him a stern warning with her gaze she turned to walk out.

~~~~~

Discovering a place by the end of the hallway, Namjoo stood with her back facing the direction of Jongin’s office. The burn in his eyes when he’d looked up at her earlier resonated nostalgia. Instinctively, she wrapped a hand around the wrist Jongin had held. The grip of had been strong yet gentle.

No. She shook herself awake. Jongin just wanted to twirl her around his fingers and hurt her in return for how she’d hurt him two years ago. She wasn’t going to play with him. She was going to end it.

Namjoo’s eyes darted toward the side to look back when she heard the sound of heels drawing near.

Yeji.

Gathering her will together she turned to face the woman that had just come from Jongin’s office. The topic of what their conversation was was not her problem, she reminded herself. She had nothing to do with them and they had nothing to do with her.

The woman’s feminine lips swerved up coyly. “Did you get the invitation I sent over this morning?”

“Yes.”

“It’s mandatory. If you received the invitation, you must come.”

“Why?” Namjoo questioned fearlessly. “Why would you want me to come to your father’s convention? If you want something, I’d rather you say it then beat around the bush.”

“Really?” the woman crossed her arms and stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “Then, how about leaving?”

Namjoo’s brow twitched and she wished it hadn’t, because the coy smile that grew on Yeji’s face showed victory over touching her nerves.

“I want,” she lifted her head up higher to look down at Namjoo through her thin challenging gaze, “you to leave Jongin.”

Firmly pressing her lips together, Namjoo stared back.

“I don’t care about why you’re back and I don’t care what you and Jongin still have,” she hissed. “I want him, and I’m going to have him like I should have had two years ago!”

Their conversation beside the pool two years ago floated back into Namjoo’s memory. Her heart leapt against her , the pumping organ willing her to stand ground. She was no outsider, it wanted to remind her. Jongin had already long chosen her, it wasn’t that this woman had lost grasp on him like she made it sound. It was Jongin who kept coming to her, now he just wanted to mess with her life like she had messed with his. So what kind of threat was Yeji making her out to be? She and Jongin had nothing right now. What was she scared of?

“You could have had him the two years I was gone.” Namjoo monotonously pointed out.

The standing opponent hissed feverishly underneath her breath. “Those two years?” she asked menacingly. “Do you know what we did those two years?! I stood by his side as he sunk into depression because you left him! It was me and me alone, who remained by his side. Unlike you, I never left him! I was there with him the whole time! Whether you played dead and left or whatever you two did, whether he hid you or not, I don’t care but you don’t deserve him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Namjoo’s brows twined together as she listened to the anger laced in her voice. What had Jongin gone through those two years? Had he really regretted telling her to leave because he thought she was dead or was it because guilt just made a good man like that?

“My father has a network of divorce lawyers,” Yeji’s eyes burned into hers, “so come, and I’ll introduce you to a few of them. Get out of Jongin’s life so he can move on like he should have.”

Yeji turned away and walked off after giving her daunting speech. Leaving Namjoo bewildered. More questions than ever dove through her mind and she remained there dragged into her thoughts. Before entering Jongin’s office she hesitated. Was it possible he spent those two years differently than she expected? If it wasn’t revenge he wanted, what did he want? Why did he make her come here if he hated her, was so angry with her?

Namjoo couldn’t make sense of it. Latching her hand around the doorknob she twisted and pulled the door open. Jongin was at his desk. Holding herself normal she walked in after closing the door and started toward the couch, where he’d been making her sit.

“Where did you go?” he asked without looking up from his papers.

“Here and there,” she mumbled sitting down and pulled her laptop onto the arm of the couch then turned to reach for the packet he’d earlier taken from her, unexpectedly pausing when she saw how crinkled it’d become.

What did he want from her, she wondered again.

Jongin was absorbed in work for once but her mind was heavily elsewhere. Yeji’s accusing words thrashed around her mind like a windstorm. Yes, she had left him two years ago. Was it her fault she left? Had she acted too impulsively?

“I hate you.”

Recalling those words crushed her heart yet again. No, she hadn’t been impulsive. It wasn’t her fault. The words that had driven her off were Jongin’s alone. She left him because of that but it wasn’t only she who left him that day. They’d made the mutual choice to leave each other, just without words. And it wasn’t her fault the fire broke out at the hostel or that he’d come and believed she’d gone inside – that was his own doing. She had no obligation to him from the moment she left the house and he didn’t need to know where she had gone.

But why…was she feeling remorse?

Jongin believed she was dead, and for two years had lived with that fact. But was the agony he’d experienced hers too? No. Namjoo shook her head yet again. It wasn’t her problem. He put himself through it. What he believed in, what he’d lived with was his own misfortune. Namjoo wouldn’t take part in his guilt.

And right now she couldn’t stand being in the same room with him.

Shutting the laptop down she set it onto the table and grabbed her bag. “I’m leaving.”

“It’s not even three,” Jongin stated.

“I’m leaving early.” Namjoo walked by.

“Why?” he stopped her, this time he fully lifted his head up.

“Do I not possess my own will to make decisions for myself in this building?” Namjoo turned to him.

“Why,” he repeated with austerity, “do you want to leave early? Are you surprised that Yeji came again?”

“I believe it’s important to keep personal affairs out of work, so I’ll choose not to answer.” Namjoo stiffly answered with eyes strictly on the creamy wall.

“There’s nothing going on…” Jongin said but she cut him off.

“Whether you choose to deal with personal affairs in your workplace is not my problem, Chairman,” Namjoo turned to look at him. “My day is over.”

Jongin shot up from his desk and very carefully enunciated each word he said, “Why do you want to leave?”

Hardening the gaze in her eyes Namjoo stared at him. Mercifully shifting to look at him she finished, “I don’t want to spend another hour looking at you. Good enough?”

~~~~~

Aggravation spilled through his veins as he watched Namjoo leave. Gritting his teeth to restrain himself from foolishly chasing after her he turned around, tossed his hands out, and let an air of vexation escape him. Shutting his eyes he blew out a puff of air and combed hands through his hair.

He never imagined that there would be a day Namjoo would easily anger him. These days it felt as if she controlled every ounce of his emotions shaking him left and right, upside down and upright again. Sinking into his chair he slumped forward and buried his face into his hands. This weekend he would have no excuse not to go to Chairman Goo’s convention. Out of all the dinners he’d avoided so far this was the only one he couldn’t find an excuse for. If he went, would he be able to have a word with the old man before he might forever be bound to Yeji?

Jongin knew that in the past two years when he seemingly failed again and again because he’d been overwhelmed by Namjoo’s death, that Yeji was the sole savior of his father’s company. She helped him handle the oppressive board members, worked with the employees to strengthen and increase revenues, and aided in developing the law department so that no outsiders would find their way into his father’s hard work and to decrease any possible corruption. But that didn’t mean he would have developed a room in his heart for that woman.

So many things had happened in the course of two years between work and home; he had been continuously plundered stress after stress. No one understood him, no one truly knew what had been going on inside his heart as he fought day after day to pass through one obstacle and then another. Out of the 365 days of the year he had thought 200 times each about following Namjoo, get on his knees and apologize for telling her to leave. But his home wouldn’t stand nor would his father’s company if he completely gave up selfishly, so he lived.

He was angry that Namjoo had used him to get to his money, that he had always been vulnerable in her eyes. And he was angry that for two years she had lied again. She was dead when she wasn’t. She sent him on a coaster of agony, helplessness, and unneeded depression. Jongin also yearned for her and he hated it.

Kim Namjoo shouldn’t be the one putting an end to their marriage. It should be his decision and it wasn’t over yet.

He was going to continue dragging her until he had enough of her.

~~~~~

The next following days Namjoo spent alone in Jongin’s office. What she last said to him the other day must have really driven him toward the edge, to the point that he would want to avoid her as much as possible. It didn’t matter. The two of them were just sensitive toward each other, their own circumstances bringing about situations neither of them could control. If she thought there was even the slightest chance of them getting along again, then she was the fool. Right now she was but a ghost that had resurrected after two years. And Jongin to her…she didn’t know. Namjoo hadn’t thought about encountering him again, so she didn’t know what she had expected.

She planned to stay late into the evening that Friday. When the door opened she expected to see Secretary Hong poke his head in as he had been doing the past few days, to do what she thought was checking up on her. Instead, she found Kyung standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he smiled. “Still in?”

“I was planning to leave soon.”

“Then, how about we get something to eat?”

Switching the laptop off she followed Kyung out and they drove down to a casual restaurant for some coke and fried chicken.

“How’s work?” she wondered.

“Small complaints here and there, but no lawsuits,” he replied, hungrily ripping meat off bones. “More like I’m just reviewing contracts for legal purposes. How’s it being stuck up there?”

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Namjoo mumbled. “It’s a headache.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Namjoo looked out the window then back to him, “Yeji wants me to attend her father’s convention tomorrow. Don’t know if I should go.”

“Yeji?” he repeated, unfamiliar with the name then his head clocked back finally recalling who Namjoo was talking about. “The woman whose father is a Chairman. What does she want?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoo muttered. “Says she’ll introduce me to some divorce lawyers.”

“You told her?” he asked appalled by her naivety.

“No, of course not.” Namjoo refuted. “She’s…” she cut herself off and fell into thought. Did she want to say this? “She wants to marry Jongin.”

Kyung stared at her silently, taken by as much bewilderment as she had. “Why don’t you take the chance and go?”

Namjoo’s eyes shot toward him with immediate surprise. She had least expected Kyung to say that to her. Perplexed, she felt her brows twitch suddenly conflicted.

“Kyung,” Namjoo called, “did you know about the fire?”

The friend remained silent, his eyes at bay. After a minute of drowning into the noises surrounding them he admitted the truth he’d long been aware of. “I’m sorry, Namjoo.”

Of course, Joohwan would have told him, asked him to keep it from her. Namjoo felt betrayed, lied to. They hid it from her, let Jongin believe she was dead. They let him experience unnecessary grief again, and she was sorry about it, felt at fault because she hadn’t known. If at the least she had gotten to him and let him know she was alive, he could have moved on and lived another life. But he hadn’t. And it was her fault.

~~~~~

Namjoo rose in the early morning and drove to the convention first thing that afternoon. It was packed with unfamiliar faces, all of them elderly and held expertise in the business field. Plenty of gray heads had been dyed black constantly, thinning hair out. Their effort to keep up with modern beauty standards let Namjoo see what old age was like. Among the group, a few adult children had voluntarily come with their parents, probably hoping to network. A few round tables were reserved off at the side for important guests. There was even a shallow platform at the end of the ballroom with a banner hung across it. The words: 35^th Convention was printed on it in bold and black letters.

Namjoo first noticed a long table of refreshments when she walked in. Feeling like an outsider compared to everyone who knew someone, she strode her way through the golden lit ballroom. Passing gold walls and rich red carpet aiming for the table but was cut off when someone called her name. Goo Yeji had her arm up into the air, a smile lit her face prettily. She was in one of the best wardrobe among the other women. Namjoo felt like a quack in her black dress.

“I was waiting for you,” Yeji greeted when she reached Namjoo then turned and waved for a man not much older than them over. “This is the divorce lawyer I wanted to introduce to you.” Then she leaned in, “He’s single too, never married.” Leaning back she said, “This is Kim Namjoo. She’s the one I was talking to you about. Do you think you can help her?”

“Gladly,” the taller man nodded with a smile. Extending his hand out when he turned to her he introduced himself, “I’m Park Gunhee.”

Pressed into the inescapable situation Namjoo shook his hand, “Kim Namjoo. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s hard to imagine anyone would want to give you a hard time,” the man commented kindly. “Should we head over to the refreshments and talk? I’d like to hear more about you.”

Namjoo glanced at Yeji who smiled in return. Well, she had no choice now. She was here and with the divorce lawyer. Returning her gaze back to him she smiled and nodded. Namjoo felt his arm politely stretch around her back to lead her off and felt uncertainty swim through her. They took a step forward when Park Gunhee abruptly stumbled off to the side. Puzzled, she turned to see Jongin standing between them.

“Sorry,” he insincerely apologize to the lawyer then turned to shoot her a stern gaze of disapproval.

***Namjoo thinks she doesn't care about whether Jongin believed she was dead but then in the next second she feels guilty about it xD Whether it's playing fair, nice or not, Jongin is going to go all the way through with this until he satisfies himself with whatever it is he's aiming for but there's one thing for sure and it's that he still recognizes the distinct attraction between them. You know how it is, even if you consciousness can't remember your body will 

*** Namjoo's back at base one. She can't figure out her feelings for Jongin. The question she needs answered is whether Jongin would have moved on even if he knew she was alive.