~~~~~

Right after Namjoo left to get her belongings Jongin opened the door to Jaegeun’s bedroom to see the young nephew propped up in bed with his back against a pillow. He was healthy and glowing except for the dark bags under his eyes from too much sleep. That was all right, Jongin deemed, because he would be back on his feet in a few day’s time – just enough time for Namjoo to believe that he was ill.

“How you feeling?” Jongin asked.

“Ok.” Jaegeun answered. “Where’s auntie?”

“She went to go get her clothes.” he answered sitting by the edge of the bed.

Jaegeun’s eyes popped open even wider, “Really?! Auntie’s coming home?!”

Grinning, Jongin nodded. He was flowing with excitement and bliss. The thought of Namjoo walking around in his home like it was her own made him want to reenact memories from the past.

“She’ll be back in a bit,” Jongin said. “If you want to eat, you better eat quick. If auntie sees that you’re not really sick, she’ll get angry and go again.”

Nodding quickly Jaegeun agreed. Eunhye helped him up from the bed, carrying the IV drip carefully and hit his arm as they went out. “You’re such a trickster.”

Rubbing his arm, Jongin walked out of the bedroom to see them walking down the hall he turned toward his mother’s room. The woman was inside staring out the window.

Spinning around upon hearing his entrance her eyes went just as wide as Jaegeun’s. “How did it go?”

“Namjoo went to pack. She’ll be back in the evening.” Jongin assured.

A smile of disbelief and relief grew across her lips as she seemed to fly toward him. Clamping hands around his arm she asked, “Really? Namjoo…my daughter…she’s coming?”

“She’s coming.” Jongin promised. “She’s still unhappy with you. Can you bear with it?”

“Of course! As long as she’s here!” the woman eagerly answered. “Anything, Jongin!” then hugging him against her small frame, “Thank you, Jongin! Thank you so much!”

“I’m sorry, mom,” he apologized, draping his arm around her. “This is the least I could do for you.”

~~~~~

The blouse in her hand dropped onto the floor in front of her suitcase and Namjoo bent over with a cry of frustration. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Going back to that house, going back to live under that roof! What was wrong with , what was wrong with her hands?!

Namjoo had never once dreamt of returning to that household. It was a separate dream from reliving moments in the past. After stalling for two fine hours she was on the road, driving cautiously, and taking all the spare time in the world. When she drove up to Jongin’s house she remained there in her car just staring at the house with both hands on the wheel. If she changed her mind in that split nanosecond she could punch the accelerator and be on her way back to the apartment.

The sun was lower in the sky compared to when she left the house earlier. Jaegeun might be up by now, waiting for her. She was certain damn Jongin would have made the announcement that she was moving back in. Not for long. Only until Jaegeun reached full health again, that was all. Namjoo would keep her word on it. The moment Jaegeun became well, she’d go back to the apartment.

Pushing the door open she stepped out and pulled the luggage from the backseat but never moved toward the home stretching out across the land. She merely stared at it like she’d never been here before. Her feet were heavyweight boulders. Not a step forward or a step backward.

The iron door opened as if someone had been watching for her. A figure appeared underneath the pink sky, made his way down the steps and turned to look her way.

Jongin.

Clamping her eyes shut she heaved a quiet whine before he crossed the road toward her. The way he walked toward her; how he moved, those hips and long legs, the particular swings of his arms swaying from side to side, and his figure overall hurled her mind back into time when she once gazed at his striking figure, taking all of him in with her heart fluttering crazily. So handsome, she had thought then, and she had been lucky to have him.

That had been two years ago…and it was still the same.

Gulping down the awkwardness suddenly climbing over her shoulders, Namjoo stepped back, bumping into the vehicle when Jongin stopped in front of her. She was suddenly swinging through coasters of intimidation and feeling shy. She had been so brazen when approaching him in the past, but now was so different. Instead of taking charge she felt like the one being wheeled around.

“You’re here?” Taking no notice of her strange fit Jongin took the luggage from her. “Lets go.”

Without thinking Namjoo frantically stepped forward to snatch the suitcase from him. Her lingerie was in there along with her work and sleepwear. She was again, embarrassed. The immense pounding of her heart was as rowdy as the plate tectonics grinding each other underneath her feet.

“I can take that myself,” Namjoo blurted and felt as if she’d just stared the Almighty in the eyes when Jongin turned to look at her.

Damn. What was happening with her?

Lowering her gaze she realized she had clamped his hand and hastily let go. Gripping her hands together she stole a glimpse at him to catch him frowning at her awkward behavior. With no more conversation she followed him into the home and down the hall, only discovering a short moment later that he was headed toward his bedroom.

“Wait!” Namjoo hurriedly to snatched her suitcase from him. “I’m going to use one of the guest rooms while I stay here.”

“You can’t.” he firmly stated.

Something boiled inside her and she hoisted the suitcase fully away from him. “I am and I will.”

“Not while I’m the head of the house, so if I say you’re going to my room, you have no choice,” Jongin snatched the suitcase back from her.

Snagging her hand around the suitcase handle she gritted her teeth, “We didn’t agree on this.”

“No,” he agreed, “but while you’re still my wife, you belong nowhere but my room.”

Jongin shot a warning glare at her before opening the door to the room she once shared with him, and walked in. Namjoo bit her lower lip so hard it nearly bled and hated herself so much more when she walked in after him.

It was still the same as it had been two years ago, just like the rest of the home. Tender feelings rushed through her at the speed of light, sending her into sick nostalgia that nearly had her doubling over.

The good times had been spent in his room. And the confrontation that had ended everything had happened here.

Plundered by a torment she’d long buried Namjoo turned around but her feet never went anywhere near the door. Her chest ached. She wanted to hide somewhere and block out the light for a few days in order to recuperate.

“Namjoo…” Jongin’s gentle voice called from behind.

“I want to shower. Can you leave?” she asked.

“All right.” He agreed and quietly brushed by, closing the door after him. The moment he left Namjoo turned around pained as she took the room in once more. Jongin had kept everything the same. Why? To keep all traces he had left of her? Namjoo wanted to slap herself for considering that.

Striding toward her suitcase she ped it and unloaded some clean clothes before heading into the bathroom. A shower would make her feel better she hoped, and maybe the rest of the evening would fly by much faster. Refusing to ponder anymore about the time two years ago Namjoo stripped and stepped into the shower, emerging out the door with what she thought was a fresh and clearer head. Jongin hadn’t come back in, she realized. Good. She would have the time she needed to sort her belongings and figure out how she would spend the rest of her time here, and think of how to leave again.

Those eager thoughts vanished from her mind when she opened the closet and found her dresses hanging inside. The lies she had woven two years ago seeped to the core like a knife.

Her hand subconsciously turned into a small fist by her side. She had felt like the victim coming here, but that wasn’t the whole truth at all. She had been the perpetrator and had always been one even two years after.

~~~~~

The microwave beeped and Jongin pulled out the bowl of soup then carried it out to the dining room table with a side of rice and mixed vegetables. Namjoo was probably hungry if she hadn’t already eaten. Jongin proudly stared down at the table he’d set for his wife and beamed with a smile.

His mother was with Jaegeun, quietly looking over him so Jongin wasn’t worried. He hoped that by now Namjoo would be done with unpacking her belongings as well as her shower. She had looked nostalgic and troubled earlier, and he had wanted to comfort her by telling her she needn’t think or remember anything.

Each step that brought him closer to the bedroom made him feel more anxious than when he first approached her again. By now, what was going through her head? Was she close enough to making up with him and resolving their differences together?

As soon as he swung the door open and walked in, Namjoo turned to look at him just as fast. She was in front of the closet he had left for her use two years ago and even now, had never touched it. The moment their eyes met he saw trepidation and angst swirling in hers. Like usual, Namjoo was the first to turn away and ignoring him began hanging up her work outfits.

The desire to find out what she was feeling and what she was thinking overrode him. Unable to do any more thinking he merely watched, his eyes gazing over her clean white shirt and her loose pajama pants. She was a living heart attack. His senses heightened. He wanted to touch her, climb above her, and be sweet to her.

“What?” Namjoo asked highly annoyed and that was when he noticed that he’d been staring, maybe hungrily.

“I…” he stuttered, embarrassed. “Food. There’s food on the table. You should eat.”

Namjoo’s brows twisted together, “I’m not hungry.” She closed the closet door rashly and left her suitcase at the side before moving toward the bed – the same exact side she used to sleep. Jongin’s heart thrashed inside his chest furiously.

In bed with Namjoo. Kissing her. Making love.

He gulped.

His legs carried him forward when Namjoo threw the blanket aside and he snagged her arm. “Lets eat.”

She turned to him at the absurdity of his behavior and pulled back. “I said I don’t want to. Now leave me alone.”

This time he aimed for her hand and swirled her around. “I said lets eat.”

Namjoo’s struggle lasted momentarily down the hallway before she gave up, as if she realized it was hopeless. Jongin was afraid his impulses might drive him to do something out of the world to her if they stayed in the bedroom longer. Maybe it would have been a better idea to let her take the guest room, but he also couldn’t imagine not sharing the bed with her tonight. Finally, after two long years she was back and in physical form. Nothing was better than that. And he knew he would get what he wanted eventually.

Pulling the chair at the table back he grabbed Namjoo, forcing her to sit down and sat beside her. His heart shot toward the roof when Namjoo grabbed the spoon scooping some of the soup. Before taking it to she turned to look at him like he was some strange homeless person, staring with mouth shamelessly watering.

“Do you have to sit there like that?” she questioned.

“I already ate.” He answered.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked,” Namjoo stated indifferently. “Can you leave?”

“I should at least stay and make sure you finish the food,” Jongin leaned back into his chair and eyed the wall ahead of him. Then he turned again to playfully annoy her by running his eyes over her, “Didn’t Kyung’s mother say you’ve lost some weight overseas? Eat up, wife.”

Setting the spoon down Namjoo said, “I lost my appetite.”

Before she could get up he beat her to it. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone, so you better finish everything before you come back.”

Jongin paused midway down the hallway to glance back and smiled. Namjoo was finally home.

~~~~~

She was going nuts! Not only was Jongin doing this intentionally to her but she could sense that he liked torturing her. Now she really agreed that she was seriously insane for agreeing to come back for Jaegeun’s good. Again, she moaned over why she’d let Jongin persuade her.

The next ten minutes were spent slowly devouring the food she supposed her mother had earlier prepared. The woman would know she was back, but why hadn’t she bothered to show her face to let Namjoo feel bitter? Thinking about it, Namjoo glanced around the quiet dining room. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Where exactly was she hiding?

Finally finishing her meal she cleared the table and let them sit in the sink where she stood staring at the plates and bowls for several minutes. After what felt like a long lingering moment she turned the faucet on and grabbed the sponge. Once the dishes were cleaned and put away into the dish rack she realized Jongin hadn’t come back to check on her. Just what was he up to?

With a narrowed eye she turned to seek her surroundings. It was as if time had never passed in this house, like everything had come to a standstill the moment Jongin’s father died, when she walked out with her own two feet. The aura the home emanated was a bit suffocating she was starting to discover.

Jaegeun had started school. His happy artworks and proudly graded homework should be on the fridge to show his achievements. There was nothing. The home was sullen with a resolute emptiness. Boring portraits hung on the walls in dire need of an update. Nothing had been added to decoration. All was organized in its place. Books and magazines should be strewn around. There was none. Namjoo thought there should at least be some of Jaegeun’s coloring books or school certificates hung up, yet none were.

Namjoo paused along the hallway when she spotted the only one thing that had changed the wall of the home. Jongin’s father’s portrait they’d used at the funeral. The slight creases in the man’s unsmiling face told stories of his life, years of work, and last moments.

What would he think of them now if he were to see his family this way? Would he consider her a disgrace? A shame? Maybe he would even have forced Jongin to get the divorce with her.

Even though stoic and cold in appearance the man had had complete and utter control of his family whilst lying in bed and being unable to walk. The control he’d had, where had it gone? Did Jongin possess that trait of control now? Or was it Jaegeun who would have that control?

Turning away from the portrait, Namjoo moved the rest of the length of the hallway to Jongin’s bedroom. Taking each stride as slowly as possible. What would she do when she got there? What would he be doing when she walked in?

Namjoo stopped in front of the door and stared at the knob. When she first entered his bedroom she had been awed and eager to start this new chapter. Anxiety and fear was slowly beginning to swallow the best of her heart. She didn’t want to return to that place two years ago. She most didn’t know or understand why she was here, but there was nowhere to flock to. Not to Kyung’s or Joohwan’s. Suddenly it felt like there was no place for her.

No place…but here…

A tug on her heart made her wish to turn around and walk out the front door. No need for her car keys or wallet. She could just walk around until she found a good place to settle, lie down, and sleep for the night. With all her might, she wished she could return to that night two years ago when she’d returned from her walk to discover Jongin in front of the hostel. That night when he proposed to her. If she had broken up with him then, she wouldn’t be here now.

Why had she been so greedy in the first place? Not only had she ended up screwing her life, but she had hurt Jaegeun in the run. Had she made him feel as abandoned as she had when her mother left her and Joohwan? How lonely had that boy been when Jongin and her mother turned away from him to focus on their grieving and life?

If she owned up to her consequences and helped Jaegeun heal, it had to be all right in the end. And when that moment came, it would be time to go. She just had to hang in there for a bit and all would be right.

Gulping down the uneasiness she reached for the knob and opened the door. The lights were still on, but Jongin was not at his desk. He was sitting up in bed with a book in his hands, his eyes absorbed into its words. Had he purposely been waiting for her to return? It would have been better if he slept first. It would have made things so much easier for her.

Turning to close the door she calmly walked over to her side of the bed and drew the covers over. She just wanted to sleep and have today over with. Tomorrow, maybe she would dawdle and drag time at work in order to be away from this house as long as possible.

“Did you finish eating everything?” Jongin asked.

Moving as far as possible to the edge of the bed with her back to him, Namjoo tucked her hand under the pillow and snuggled her face into it. “I’m going to sleep.”

Jongin moved around, set his book down and rose to turn the lights off. When he settled back in he said, “Goodnight, Namjoo.”

Her eyes opened and she gripped the blanket into her fist. In the end, for some reason, she was really back in the place she had long been sick for. Only nothing could be the same and she didn’t want it to.