Everything…was almost perfect.

Almost.

Two months from now she would be tying the knot. Their honeymoon was set. To the mystic Bahamas where the beaches became heaven on earth. Three weeks all to themselves. Just her and her very handsome husband, Lim Seojun.

Lim Seojun, who made her feel like she could conquer the entire world. The man she loved who made her feel like she forever stood at the top. That she was no longer the quiet outcast she’d been in high school. That she had long outgrown that shell. Their future was the only thing she ever looked forward to.

Kim Namjoo worked hard. Gotten her degree from Yonsei. Now worked as a full time assistant manager at Amorepacific. A huge cosmetic conglomerate with different operations and branches extending into one large department to small, cheaper lines. Effort always paid off she believed. It was her motto in life.

From feeling like a constant failure in high school to a grown woman in college to meeting Seojun, who first kissed her outside of their campus library. Namjoo knew then that luck was finally blessing her. Life was finally taking the right turn for once.

They had been lab partners in Biology, studied together, and then transitioned into lovebirds. So, when he finally kneeled down before her one evening Namjoo knew she was the luckiest woman alive. About to walk down that aisle and give her special man the rest of her life.

All plans had been checked off one by one successfully. Graduating college, supporting herself with a job, becoming independent that she no longer needed her parents' money but instead sent them money. She lived alone, she had good friends and good relationships with everyone. Now she was about to get married.

Namjoo would have never asked for anything more.

But then…it looked like her luck had just run out.

It was so eerily quiet in the bathroom that the humming of the toilets was all she heard. Then the stick clattered so noisily to the floor it could be a bomb going off.

Two very pink lines reading: Pregnant.

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Namjoo staggered out of the public restroom dizzily, unable to grasp what just happened. She had triple checked the box in case she was reading the test wrong.

The box screamed PREGNANT to her.

Nearly tripping over her own unsteady footing, Namjoo clung onto a street pole. Cold to her numb fingers. She couldn’t focus. Could not hear the sound of traffic blowing past. It whirled in her head like a hurricane on full blast.

She was pregnant.

Her heart thrummed noisily inside her body, but she heard it all the way in her head. Pregnant. She was going to be sick.

Namjoo tried not to heave on the street. Stepping away from the pole she blankly moved down the sidewalk unaware of passersby.

Not only had her period been late, she had been feeling different in a way she had been unable to describe. And she knew about a month and a half ago, if her brain was still working correctly, she had woken up not at home but in some motel.

Burying her face in her hands Namjoo crouched down. No, no. She had prayed so hard! She had even bought birth control pills right afterward in hopes of being careful, because she hadn’t remembered a thing! This just couldn’t be happening.

Think, think Namjoo told herself. What had she missed. What step had she missed?!

None!

She had taken as many precautionary measures as there was. How could a one-night stand do this to her?

Hammering her head, Namjoo scolded herself. She was stupid. She had been stupid.

Her phone rang. Lifting her head up Namjoo stared at the bag dangling off her arm. Her heart rammed against her chest when she saw it was Seojun calling.

Oh God no, she wanted to cry. What was she going to do?

She paced in a circle. The ringing stopped and then quickly picked up. Internally screaming, Namjoo held the phone to her ear.

“Hey, love,” Seojun greeted. Her heart should be fluttering but she was panicking instead. “Lets have dinner tonight. I have some good news to share with you.”

“Oh…Seojun,” Namjoo breathed, sweating.

“I hear traffic. Are you outside?” He wondered. “I thought you were at work.”

“I stepped outside for a quick errand,” Namjoo excused.

“So, about dinner. Tonight?” He asked again. Then happily said, “My place. Be there by six.”

“Six?”

“See you then. Don’t work too hard, love you.” The phone clicked and Namjoo was left with the dead tone.

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“All the way to Daejeon?” Jongin breathed exasperated. A pile of laundry just recently washed lay on the bed before him. Only a quarter of it was folded before Ra Mina, his girlfriend of three years, walked in and started searching through the closet for her suitcase.

“I have to go,” Mina explained digging through the storage boxes, which mostly consisted of her junk. “I can’t help it if they called at the last minute.” Turning around to look at him she reminded, “You know how important auditions are.”

“My mom will be here soon,” Jongin said. “You knew that.”

“I can’t call this off, Jongin. This could be it for me,” she said.

“You’ve had twenty auditions,” Jongin wanted to throw his arms up, “they never called back.”

“I have to keep trying!” Mina started raising her voice. Wheeling around with hands on hips, she pointed out, “Leslie Kim was a small town nobody, but then she went to a shoot and is now a model on the walkway. Lee Minki was instantly noticed one day and recruited to an agency for modeling. And she was just delivering papers! I could be noticed, too if I keep trying hard. You should be supporting me, Jongin!”

“I am!” He argued.

“No, you aren’t!” Mina refuted. “All you are is a mommy’s boy. Whatever she says, you do. You don’t even have a will of your own, how can you ever understand me and my dreams?”

“Mina!” He raised his voice.

She stared back with bulging eyes. “I’m leaving. I won’t be home until tomorrow.” Lugging out her suitcase at last she moved over to open her dresser.

Restraining himself from furthering the argument, Jongin resumed folding their clothes. He wanted to scold her, wishing with all his might he could put her in her place. She was almost 30. What hope was there that someone still wanted to recruit a woman who couldn’t compete with the youthful generation? Ra Mina never went further than modeling for local ads. There was no hope she’d make it to the big games he wanted to say.

Jongin didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to face reality, and her reality was him.

Sighing deeply, she looked at him, “I’m sorry, Jongin. As much as I also want to stay, you know I can’t stand your mother. Lets talk again when I get back tomorrow.”

Nothing about telling his mother she said hi. With just a peck on his cheek she walked out of the house. When he walked out he saw that the dishes hadn’t been done. Mina had said she’d wash them after breakfast, but as usual it was his chore. She hadn’t vacuumed yesterday even when he’d asked. Instead, she’d been busy painting her nails.

Jongin ended up doing the dishes and pulling out the vacuum from the closet. Thirty minutes later his mother walked in with three heavy bags. A small woman he towered over. Recently she had stopped dying her hair black letting her gray roots grow out. She looked old, wiser but he also thought the black hair made her womanly youthful.

“Seriously, mom?” he chided taking the bags from her. “These weigh a ton! What did you bring?”

“Where is Mina? She should be welcoming me at the door,” his mother peered around the house.

“She has plans, so she won’t be in,” Jongin explained.

“Good, I didn’t want to see her anyway.”

“Mom.”

“That woman is no good,” his mother walked into the kitchen and started going through the bags taking out cans of mushroom, bamboo shoots, and packages of meat she’d grabbed from the market.

“I have food,” Jongin reminded.

“At the rate that woman freeloads off you, you’d have nothing for yourself.”

“Mom, please.”

“Am I not right?” His mom looked at him upset. “That woman doesn’t even have a job, Jongin! What are you still keeping her around for?”

“Her name’s Mina mom.”

“It could be Bina or whatever,” his mother rolled her eyes and continued lecturing him. “Beauty is nothing if she’s rotten inside, Jongin. I always thought you knew better. She’s a disappointment. Can’t you see that she only cares about herself? No one would want her as a daughter-in-law. The kids probably don’t even like her.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“Only you think that,” his mother spat walking away to stash the canned foods on the counter. “You must not remember the look on her face when I first mentioned having kids to her. I can tell she’s never held a baby before. How do you expect her to have your children?”

“We’re still far from that, mom.”

“How far? Is she going to make you wait until your hair goes white?”

He tried not to scoff at her remark, but he did wonder, too. Mina never talked about a future with him. Everything was about her dreams. She wanted to become a reputable model, wear the most expensive clothes from the trendiest fashion lines. Get to know the famous designers, travel abroad, and have shoots on the Eiffel Tower. Always dreaming big never knowing how far she’d reach.

Jongin listened every day as if she was retelling a story over and over. When it came to him, she half-listened. When his mother stepped in she would pull her earphones out.

He loved her for her determination, but sometimes it was too much.

His father had died fighting a firestorm. He only had his mother left and what she wanted he would heed. He cared and loved her and it was his duty as a son. And he, too, didn’t want to grow any older with an empty plate. What would it be like he often wondered to become a father, like so many of his classmates have become. To return to a warm home after a stressful day of work. Watch someone cook a meal for him. He had never experienced that wonder, because Mina never picked up a pot in her life. Her hands were too precious. She feared burn marks.

“Your aunt’s friend has a daughter just fresh out of college,” his mother suggested, “do you want to meet her? I can call her right now.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Then who are you interested in?”

“I have Mina.”

“Not her,” his mother shook her head. Pulling a chair out she settled down and looked up at him, “I’ve thought about it. I don’t like you living so far on the other side of the city.” Reaching into her purse she handed him a key. “If you won’t come live with me, I bought you an apartment.”

“You did what?!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t live here anymore. I don’t like you being out here all by yourself…with that girl,” his mother quietly said. “She takes advantage of you.”

“Mom,” he tiredly rubbed his face.

“You know I’m right,” she leaned forward. “You’re literally raising her! You should be living in a better-quality apartment than this tiny place!” she shook her hand. “It’s about time you break up with her.”

He watched her scribble down the address and slide the piece of paper over.

“Think about it, son,” she sternly looked into his eyes. “I’m old. Soon, I’ll become brittle and blind, unable to do anything for myself. I want to see you have a family before I join your father. I won’t be here forever, Jongin.”

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Namjoo nearly turned to run away when she reached Seojun’s apartment. How could she go up and stand face to face with him? She was shameless.

Chewing her lower lip, she paced a circle. She couldn’t tell him. No matter what she couldn’t tell him! She was still going to marry him. Things would be ok. It just had to. Besides, she had already thought it over. She would have an abortion before the wedding. No one would ever need to know what she’d done.

Still, her heart felt like it was plunging into the depths of her stomach. Her hands felt clammy with sweat. Inhaling, she swallowed and stepped inside. On the way up, she kind of wished the elevator would malfunction.

It didn’t.

“You made it,” Seojun grinned opening the door for her. He was forever handsome. Bold brown eyes and nose angled just right. She had kissed his jawline many times, but today she couldn’t look at her favorite spot.

Quietly walking in, Namjoo peered at the table he’d filled with dinner. A candle lit up between their plates romantically. The aroma of steak and sides of asparagus and mushrooms permeated the air just perfectly. He knew exactly how to swoon her heart.

“Come here.” Snaking an arm around her waist he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Namjoo immediately replied sinking into his intimacy as she coiled up against him. She felt his moist lips, a bit of his tongue and then she was somewhere in the dark. Giggling, panting erratically. Overwhelmed with ual pleasure as hands dove down and then she saw a face.

Immediately shoving Seojun away, Namjoo gasped for air.

The face so vivid to her memory she quickly whipped around to blink. She knew that face. Oh God, she knew that face.

“Hey, are you ok?” Seojun touched her shoulder.

Shrugging away, Namjoo turned to look at him suddenly recalling their argument a month and a half ago. The argument that had caused him to leave her behind in the sea of strangers and that was how she’d gone to bed with someone else.

“I…I should go,” Namjoo backed away from him.

She needed to be alone. To think. To just let everything sink in.

“Namjoo…”

If he knew she had had a one-night stand he would never forgive her. His parents would never be able to look at her again. The thousands of money his family was spending on her wedding would cost her an entire lifetime to repay.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoo apologized. Touching the doorknob, she opened the door and hurried out into the hallway.

In high school, Namjoo had had a ginormous crush on Kim Jongin. The crush had been as loud as her silence. She had constantly day dreamed about him. That the popular soccer player might notice the quiet kid and come confess to her. Hoping, maybe, her life could become a drama where the very quiet, shy, outcast girl suddenly became the center of attention. Even though Jongin didn’t know she existed, she took notice of him each and every day.

On Wednesdays when the school served fried noodles he’d go up and ask for seconds. He didn’t like orange juice so he always swapped for apple with a friend. In the mornings he’d always ask the geek for help on math homework. He always had one book in his locker. It was the same one year-round. And Namjoo had always gone to watch his games.

What happened that night, she remembered. They’d met again at the wedding of some classmate’s. She'd gone with a friend because everyone else was going, and she had dragged Seojun with her. It was a typical wedding with the noise, the crowd, an after party. Regardless what she and Seojun had argued about wasn’t important now. The fact was that she’d been drunk and high when she met Jongin again. Somehow, they’d ended up in bed together.

The image of the pregnancy test chased her all the way until she reached home.

***this totally feels like a breath of fresh air, but I like it so far. Finally, not rushed