“I said elevate it higher to your heart.”

Here I am being scolded by my husband since earlier. I just finished taking a bath—well actually, Kyungsoo assisted me a bit, just a bit—and just now I start feeling the pain again. “But it’s tiring me out.” I whine back as I try to put the sling lower but he keeps on glaring at me every time I do. “Just wait for me to cook dinner and then you can drink the pain reliever.” He tells while holding my healthy hand.

Once we arrived at the living room, I let go of his hand and skip to the play pen where Yohan was left at. “Eomma pain?” he asks while pulling himself up. “Come to Eomma so Eomma will not pain anymore.” I sing song and spread my arms wide. “Han Iseul.” Kyungsoo’s firm and authoritative voice was heard which made me put my injured arm back close to my chest.

I turn my head and gave him a glare. “Yohannie, don’t let Eomma put her sick hand down arrachi?” He speaks while walking to the kitchen. “Yohan care sick hand~” My son gave me that squishy pout while nodding. “Yohannie would take care of Eomma’s sick hand?” I ask and ran my fingers—with my healthy hand—through his short hair. He gives me a nod while climbing onto my lap. “Honey?” I turn to the kitchen and Kyungsoo peeks out from the open counter top. He was washing something on the sink at the moment so I could see him closely.

“I bought shrimps, I planned to cook it yesterday when you arrived actually. Could you cook it?” I ask. He gives me a look. Oh, crap I just remembered he’s allergic. “How are you supposed to peel it off when you eat it then?” He asks back and had his hands on his waist like a nagging grandmother. “We have plastic gloves there. . .” I mutter and gave him a shy smile.

“No. I won’t touch it.” He tells and folds his arm. “Yah, that’s why there’s gloves.” I tell as a matter of fact. “Looking at it alone makes me itch.” He still fights back. “No, that is called over-imagining. That’s your over-thinking brain.” I grunt while pointing at him. “I don’t like.” He still didn’t let himself loose and starts taking out meat from the fridge.

I frown at his direction.

“You’re making me really sad. . .” I muffle and I see him pushing the meat back in. “Where’s the gloves.” He grumbles out with irritation and started searching in the pantry. I grin in victory as I clap with one hand—is that even possible, but I made it possible though. “The third layer of the pantry, honey~ Yay~” I squeal in excitement.

He takes it out and walks back to the fridge while wearing it. His eyes gaze back at me and I see his lips curving up into his haughty smirk—which is, by the way, the death of me. “What are you gonna eat then?” I ask. “Maybe I should eat shrimps too so I would die already and won’t have to worry on cooking shrimps again.” He tells while taking the seafood plastic container out. “You don’t die on your allergy. You just get ugly.” I tell and he shoots a dagger glare at me.

“What? I really found you ugly that last time, I didn’t even want to sleep beside you.” I shrug. “And when was that last time?” He asks with a prideful face. My eyes move from left to right. “Our second anniversary. At the restaurant.” I answer. He scoffs. “What happened after we left the restaurant?” He asks. “We went to the doctor because your mouth was getting swollen.” I answer. “After the treatment, what happened?” He asks.

I so hate his tone and expression right now.

I want to kill him.

“Since you didn’t eat much shrimp . . . it wasn’t that bad and the medication helped right away. . .” I begin avoiding his smirk now. “Then what happened after we got home?” He asks and I stomp my feet on the foam in irritation. “We slept—what are you doing??” I complain. “After we got home, we washed Yohan up then put him to sleep. After that, we continued the celebration in the living room and drank wine and after tha—“Alright alright. FINE. You’re not ugly.” I give up and groan loudly.

“I still remember you saying my swollen lips got even much ier and more ‘heart-shaped’ right? Or was it the wine?” He asks while washing the shrimp on the sink. I just didn’t answer anymore, I was too embarrassed already. I actually thought he was too intoxicated by the wine that night that he wouldn’t remember such small detail of my. . . well, my ing I guess.

“Change topic.” I murmur while looking down to my son and joined his lego block building. “The shrimp’s still defrosting, Yohan-ah, come we will eat your dinner now.” Kyungsoo calls and my son excitedly left my side and ran to his Appa. I just watch in silence as Kyungsoo took care of everything. “Do you need help?” I ask. “Worry yourself. I’m fine here.” He answers softly while putting Yohan’s bib.

So I get off the play pen and walked to our bedroom.

“Kyungsoo, you still haven’t taken out the dirty clothes from your bag?” I ask. “Yes, I haven’t packed out, I forgot about the luggage in my car when I brought it along to the hospital yesterday but it’s in the room now.” He answers from the kitchen. “Alright, I’ll clean it up, don’t worry, I won’t use my injured hand.” I tell before stepping into the room.

Kyungsoo’s supposed to be resting from the conference and seminar he had, but here he is now taking all of my responsibility. If I would be asked, my injury isn’t that bad anymore expect for the mild aches here and there. I didn’t break anything, he’s just really over-thinking stuffs. I can’t blame him though, I always looked so much in pain whenever I would complain about it.

Anyway, as I walk to the couch at one corner, I start thinking of what gift to give him this coming Christmas. To be all honest, he isn’t the type to really give gifts but since he’s receiving he said he couldn’t help but to give back anymore. He used to think gift-giving was kind of foolish but good thing I was able to teach him the action’s sincerity and sweetness.

But I told him last time, I want my next Christmas gift to be a cake mixer since the current one is already very old.

I wonder if he would get it for me. . .

Knowing him, he never forgot what I wished for and so I need to think of a nice gift for him.

I start ping his luggage while thinking. What would he like? He likes books but heck, I don’t have any idea on how to pick books. He likes gadgets but he just bought a tablet last month and if I give him another one, he would scold me his famous ‘Instead of buying diapers, why did you use such wealth for my sake? Do you know how much culpability you’re putting into every corners of my masculine eccentricity right now?’ line that I always dislike.

As I was digging out all of the dirty clothes in the bag, my hand slips into one pocket and felt some candy wrappers? “Gosh, he’s using the bag as trash bin again.” I groan since I hate such act. I just simply dislike people who do that lazy thing. I take it out but then stop as soon as I got my eyes onto it.

It’s not a candy wrapper.

It’s a pack. Which is already empty.

My lips parted as I stiffen on my spot for a couple of minutes. My mind was going blank already. When I got the hold of myself, I start digging more into the bag’s pockets and finally, I saw another one. It was a small crumpled paper. I unfolded it out and saw a note. The handwriting was legibly girly enough for my heart to sink right away.

The note says,

‘Didn’t expect you to be so good for someone who hasn’t done it in a car before. It was fun right? You should try it with your wife next time. Don’t worry, I’ll keep quiet... Onetime thing is nothing. Shh~’

My hand starts trembling as I crumple the paper again. My tears were already blurring my eyes out but I try to hold it from falling. I walk to our closet and keep the empty pack of and note into my undergarment drawers, deep into it so Kyungsoo wouldn’t know I got it.

Onetime thing huh?

Do they think onetime thing doesn’t mean anything?

Because it’s crushing everything inside of me right now.

I throw all of Kyungsoo’s dirty clothes into a basket and carry it out with my healthy hand. Once I arrived back to the living room, I place it down for a second and watched Kyungsoo as he walk from the stove to Yohan who was eating constantly. I suppress the urge to cry and maintained my straight face. “Honey, I was just wondering. . .” I speak making him look up while covering a pot. “Where’d you ride on your way back to Seoul?” I ask.

“In the team’s van already. Why?” He asks. “Oh. . . I just. . . I just wonder why your bag looked. . . very crumpled and pinned down.” I try to make an excuse. “Ah, well. . . Yuhee must have thrown them too harshly in her car. Don’t worry, the shape’s going to go back hopefully.” He tells. “I thought you rode the van?” I ask again. He stops from peeling the shrimps out and looked at me.

Why is he silent?

“Yes, why.” He looks down to the shrimps again. “You don’t have your bag with you on the travel back here?” I ask. “Yes—aw. . .” He winces as he peeled one shrimp. “Are you alright?” I ask while raising an eyebrow. He glances at me before walking away from me to the sink. “Yes, the edge was just a bit sharp.” He mutters while removing the gloves from one hand. “I need another gloves. It got torn apart.” He speaks while washing his hand.

“Were you with Yuhee the whole time?” I ask making him stop from moving his hands down the running water. “Geez, Iseul not again with that. I’m telling you in advance, nothing happened.” He avoids the question and walks to Yohan this time. “Why, did I say something happened?” I ask back. He turns around with that defeated face which made my heart throb even more.

“Alright, like the usual, which I’ve told you about already, she just flirted on me. There, if you want me to broadcast everything. She flirted like the usual. Nothing else should happen.” He tells before walking to the stove again. For me, he seems tensed because he kept on walking back and forth. “Can I trust you?” I ask, my voice was threatening to get shaky. “You should, alright?” He looks at me seriously before wearing a new plastic glove on his hand.

I just stood there by his side in silence. I don’t know what to feel. He turns to me a gave me a smile. “I know I said you look adorable when jealous but not too much, okay? You’re pretty scary.” He coos sweetly and chuckles before giving me a peck on the lips. “Fine. . . it’s nothing. . . nothing happened.” I wrap one arm around his waist and bury my face on his shoulder.

I-if it’s really called nothing. . .