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The bed smelled so much of Jongin. Wherever she turned, no matter how much less she tried to use his blanket everything stank of him. From the pillow to the foot of the bed. So much it felt like she was sinking into a pool of him.

Finally settling onto her side, Namjoo let her head sink into his fat pillow. Inhaling the scent of him yet again. This time she didn’t try to fight it or hold her breath. She smelled him and thought about how it smelt more of him than when she had buried her face into his shoulder.

This was where he lay. This was where he spent his time. These sheets were his sheets. This blanket was his. Tonight, she was using it again as if it could be her own.

Namjoo blinked into the darkness. Trying to think of Jongin holding her. Comfortingly. Patiently. Carefully. And it was different from the coldness Seojun kept shoving into her face. Tugging the blanket under her chin Namjoo felt her heart well up.

Jongin was too kind. If she tied him down he would go down with her. What about his future? The things he wanted to achieve? If she tied him down he would need to think of her and the baby before he thought about himself. They would be his responsibility, his obligation, his duty.

It wouldn’t be fair for him. Namjoo couldn’t do that to him. He didn’t deserve that kind of miserable life.

Tomorrow when she woke up she would tell him he didn’t need to worry about her. She would promise him she would take care of herself. She would go live with her parents who would help her, so he didn’t need to give up anything for her.

Namjoo sniffed. God, she was getting emotional again. She should have called her mother earlier and fessed up. This wouldn’t have happened. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Namjoo buried her face into the blanket. Unsure when she’d fallen asleep but when she awoke she was starving.

Climbing out of the bed quietly, Namjoo opened the door and poked her head out. Feeling as if she was repeating something she’d done one too many times. Pressing her lips together she swallowed excess saliva. Starting to drool when she thought of Jongin’s leftovers.

Creeping out of the room Namjoo peered at the long curtain. Closed and keeping the morning sunlight out. She heard Jongin breathing and quickly shot past him into the kitchen. There was nothing on the stove but recalling he’d packed away the remnants of last night’s food into the fridge, that was where she went. Namjoo’s face glowed when the fridge opened and in front of her was what she was looking for.

Snatching it she turned around knocking the back of her head into the fridge when Jongin frowned at her.

“Sorry,” Namjoo apologized like a child caught in the act of stealing the cookie jar. Seated at the table watching him reheat the food for her. “I was really hungry.”

“No, it’s fine. You should be hungry,” Jongin said opening the microwave and pouring the food onto a clean plate. Placing the food in front of her he didn’t sit down but reached for a glass and filled it with fresh water. Namjoo watched him reach into the fridge and drop a slice of lemon in.

“Thanks,” she grabbed the cup. When he sat down she asked, “You’re not eating?”

“I’m fine.” He said. “I had something in the middle of the night.”

Namjoo observed him then picked up her spoon taking a greedy bite. It was so delicious she almost moaned. She caught him smiling and lowered her gaze. He made her feel all sorts of weird things she didn’t think she should be feeling.

“I was thinking, if you feel better we could talk after you eat,” Jongin said.

Bringing her eyes up to his face she wondered what he needed to say, because she also had things to tell him.

“Ok,” Namjoo nodded.

Even when she offered to clean up after herself Jongin made her sit as he washed her plate. Grabbing a new glass, he reached into the fridge and poured her apple juice. Namjoo stared at the cup as he sat down, wondering if this was another thing to help her morning sickness.

“I was joking with you about the bitter melon,” Jongin admitted. “From now on, if you want to drink have some apple juice. It kind of looks like beer.”

Namjoo couldn’t tell whether she was touched or baffled by his move. That he had thought about it because he cared.

“Thanks,” Namjoo said. Touching the glass, she confessed, “There were also a few things I wanted to say, but you can go first since I’m burdening you.”

“You’re no bother,” he faintly smiled. “The doctor said it’s lucky you didn’t have a miscarriage, but that you’re not well right now. Why don’t you stay here in the meantime? I can help you and if anything were to happen again, you wouldn’t be alone.”

Namjoo breathed a bitter smile. “I guess I am lucky.” She stared at the untouched glass of apple juice wishing it was a real drink. “Actually, this is the only baby I can only have. You don’t have to worry about me. Honestly.”

“Why not?” He asked not understanding. “I’m the father.”

“This baby is going to be mine.”

“How can you say that?” he frowned upset.

“I’m not going to marry you,” Namjoo stated, “so don’t worry about it.”

His brows burrowed even deeper. “Why? Is it because you plan on giving the baby up?”

Namjoo sat up straighter with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

Rubbing his forehead, Jongin bit his lower lip. Looking at her, he admitted, “I saw the pamphlets in your apartment. About the orphanages.”

Shooting to her feet she accused, “You went into my house?!”

“Why do you have them?” Jongin rose as well. “Be honest with me, is that what you’re planning?”

“You had no right to go into my home!” Anger throttled her that he had had the audacity to go as far as entering her home without  permission. Why? She couldn’t understand. She felt violated.

Flustered, Jongin apologized, “I’m sorry, it’s just…I…”

Namjoo would have stormed off but she heaved. This morning’s breakfast threatening to come back up. Pressing a hand to she ran off to the bathroom forced to set aside her anger to tend to herself. As she bent over the toilet acid poured out of . Once more she felt queasy. Her stomach empty.

Jongin was behind her in an earshot. Holding her hair out of her face and patting her back.

“Are you ok?” he worried.

Flushing the toilet Namjoo scrubbed her hands at the sink and shrugged his hand off. “I’m fine.”

She hated herself even more. Trying with all her might not to look up into the mirror to see his reflection behind her.

“I’m hungry,” Namjoo muttered wishing she could choke herself, but Jongin’s food was so good it was all she could think about.

“Ok,” he replied.

A few minutes later she was standing at the pillar marking the entryway of the kitchen and watching Jongin do his magic at the stove. Her insides anticipating what he had in store for her. She had finished the apple juice but couldn’t bring herself to sit down while he cooked.

Staring at his back. Upset that he had gone upstairs without her permission. Looked around her place. What had he gone through? What had he seen?

Yet at the same time he was so nice to her she felt guilty.

Maybe he just really wanted to see his baby. He was the father after all.

“Those papers,” Namjoo broke the silence, “my ex gave them to me. We still have unsettled business, so we met up a few times. That’s all.” She added, “Really. It’s not that I would give up the only child I’ll ever have.”

She noticed his shoulders relaxing, which made her feel somewhat less suffocated.

Turning the stove off, Jongin set the pan onto a cool spot and reached for a plate. “I wasn’t going to say that we should get married, either.”

Jongin glanced at her then returned to focusing on the task at hand. Walking over to set the plate down he looked at her. Standing a width away from each other he looked so sincere she couldn’t look away. “Can’t you stay here for the sake of the baby? What if you collapse again but I can’t get to you on time? Since it’s already happened, let me help too. Until the baby arrives, we can work on this together, can’t we?”

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Jongin could continue to have his way with everything if he continued being so nice and cooked for her. Carrying the bag with her clothes she followed him up the stairs to her apartment. 

Namjoo couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Why she was listening to him. Yes, she knew Jongin had his points and she didn’t want to lose this baby no matter what. If they could be nice to each other for the rest of the next seven or six months that was it. Yet she felt really unsettled.

Six months could go by quickly but also truly slowly. Sharing one roof with Jongin was beyond crazy. Was she still in her right mind?

Nothing else would happen, would it?

Namjoo quickly turned away when a tenant stepped outside of her house and walked by. Swerving to keep her face hidden she followed behind Jongin hoping he could conceal her. She was still in his shirt and sweats too long for her because her dress was bloody, which reminded her she needed to change her underwear too. Goodness, she felt filthy.

Quickly unlocking the door to her apartment, she turned to him, “If you don’t mind, I want to take a shower again. I’ll be quick though.”

“Sure.”

Brushing past him she dashed off into her bedroom then into the bathroom. Soaping herself up heavily under the shower. Her private felt sore, but she didn’t feel so bad that she needed to stay in bed. Rinsing herself off she couldn’t help but run her fingers over her abdomen.

As long as the baby was ok nothing else mattered, but Seojun...what was she going to do with him? Maybe she should tell Jongin about the wedding. About her problem with her ex and his family. They would leave her alone if she told them she had moved on, wouldn’t they? But was that all right? Jongin and his ex didn’t seem to be finished with their problems either. Wouldn’t she just be creating a web of chaos?

Namjoo sighed and closed her eyes. Nothing seemed to be going right these days.

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Jongin listened to the water run as he walked around Namjoo’s apartment. Passing the coffee table where he’d left the orphanage pamphlets he browsed around Namjoo’s shelves. Looking over the pictures of the happy couple that was supposed to be getting married. Namjoo glowed in the shots beside her lover.

He was sorry and guilty for taking that from her. Stepping to the side he noted a picture of her elderly parents happily standing in front of their restaurant. Did they know, he wondered, that Namjoo was having his baby? What would they say when they saw him for the first time? Would they be angry that he had gotten their daughter pregnant without marrying her first?

Maybe he would never meet them.

When Namjoo finally stepped out of her bedroom about a half hour later he was sitting on the couch staring at the pamphlets. Setting her duffel bag down she sat beside him. Smelling fresh of tropical rain forests. A subtle scent that made Jongin feel like he was taking a walk into a park filled with exotic flowers, wild animals, and a secret waterfall hidden so deep in the heart of the woods. Then he saw that Namjoo was no longer in his clothes but her own.

“You could have turned the TV on or something,” she started.

“Can I throw these away?” Jongin asked gesturing to the pamphlets.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I don’t need them anymore.”

He grinned while shuffling the papers together. “Are you ready?”

“Yea.”

“Let me take that,” he offered taking the duffel bag from her. Jongin tossed the pamphlets into the garbage on their way out.

His phone was ringing when they returned. Leaving him to answer his phone Namjoo went into his bedroom to organize her clothes. Picking his phone up from the couch he stared at Mina’s name. Should he answer, because he also wanted to tell her he needed to talk to her? Or not answer?

Jongin glanced toward the bedroom where Namjoo was. They had just taken a leap into co-habiting and all was going well. If he let Mina ruin today he’d be damned. Turning the phone on silent he tucked it under the pillow.

Walking into the bedroom he opened the closet and shoved his clothes aside. “You can hang some of your clothes up.” Then walking over to his dresser, he moved his clothes from one bunk to a lower bunk, cramming his shirts and pants together. “You can have these two drawers.”

Namjoo looked at him perplexed. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just keep some things in my duffel bag.”

“They’ll get wrinkled,” Jongin told. “If you need any more space, let me know. There’s a bunch of things I can get rid of.” Taking a step back in case he was probing her personal space he said, “Take your time. I’ll be out there if you need anything.”

Awkwardly leaving the room he settled down on the couch. Needing to do something but not sure what.

It was really happening. Reality sank in again. They were really going to be living together. Why was he suddenly so jittery?

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Staring out the door where she couldn’t see Jongin, Namjoo wished he wasn’t acting like that. It made her awkward, too. How did two people who didn’t know a thing about each other start living together?

She sat on the bed and stared at the open closet. Saw his button downs and his pants neatly folded and dangling from the hangers. How were they supposed to share a space like this? Wasn’t she intruding unnecessarily into Jongin’s space? It was just a trip upstairs to her own closet.

It would take a while for them to assimilate into each other’s lives like this. Getting dressed, sleeping, and showering separately but sharing the same kitchen. Being wary of each other. For how many weeks would they be tip-toeing around each other? What a giant step she had suddenly taken so impulsively.

Sighing she buried her face into her hands.

It took her a while to find the courage to step out. Approaching the couch where Jongin was sitting quietly watching a show. Firmly keeping her lips together, she took the empty seat beside him. Hesitating, gripping onto the picture between her fingers. Unable to ignore her Jongin turned to look at her.

“H…here,” Namjoo held out the ultrasound picture Dr. Woo had given her. When he glanced down she said the obvious, “It’s the baby.”

His eyes landed on her face then on the picture again. The tips of their fingers touched when he took the picture. Holding it up like a treasure he’d dug out from an excavation. Namjoo saw the corner of his lips slide up before his white teeth flashed.

“Really?” He turned to her excited. “That’s the baby?”

Beaming, Namjoo nodded with a smile. Touching the picture, she pointed, “Right there. It was eight weeks when I saw it. The baby has already started developing fingers and toes. And it knows what kind of food it likes now.”

“Wow,” he breathed amazed and laughed giddily. Looking at her to convey his joy then stared at the picture again.

Settling down and still holding onto the picture he turned to her. “Yesterday, you were supposed to show me how to make your lunch.”

“We were?”

“Your braised chicken,” Jongin spoke with undying glee, “I really liked it.”

Her heart fluttered. He led her into the kitchen pulling out one ingredient after another and showing her the notes he’d written down.

Appearing shy as he waited for her to overlook his writing. “I wrote down the right things, right?”

“Well, it’s not wrong or right,” Namjoo shrugged. “I just made it my mom’s way.”

He glanced at her curiously. “Can you teach me?”

opened then she smiled. “Ok.”

They spent the afternoon in the kitchen working together. Listening to the music of knives moving rhythmically against chopping boards to the vent continuously churring. To the heat of boiling water and soft chatter as Namjoo directed Jongin here and there. Feeling him peer over her shoulder as she worked.

They set the table together and sat down to stories about her father. Washed the dishes together and before long the sun had set and Namjoo was lying in his bed sound asleep.

When she awoke the following morning, Jongin was already in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast wafted up her nose bringing her one step closer to the food.

“You’re up?” Jongin said. Pulling out a glass from the fridge he set it on the table. It was the regular cup of water with a slice of lemon. “Sit down. It’s almost ready.”

Namjoo took a sip from the glass and felt her stomach growl. “Do you need help?”

“No, it’s done,” Jongin told. Turning around he put down their breakfast and set the table. “You’re not going to work today, right?”

“I’m taking a few days rest, like the doctor said.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Eat up.”

It was strange to watch Jongin leave through the door after breakfast. Usually at this time she’d be riding the elevator and in a few minutes walking to her car. Bored, Namjoo cleaned his already clean kitchen. Swept then curiously went through his closet to discover his coat and jackets. There was a vacuum hidden in the back. To make herself useful she went through his house cleaning and then headed upstairs to grab some books to keep her time.

Late afternoon before Jongin arrived home she made a trip to the convenience store. She’d eaten the rest of his stock of banana chips. Before he found out she needed to replenish it. On her way back, she thought about what to make for dinner since he’d made breakfast. Then she noted the man pacing in front of the building and the familiar sports car parked at the curb.

Nervous, Namjoo gripped onto her bag and increased her pace. She just needed to tell Seojun off.

Spotting her he trotted toward her, his long legs decreasing the gap between them. Gripping her wrist, he demanded as the bag dropped onto the ground by her feet, “Where are you coming from? They said you weren’t at work.”

“Seojun, let go.” Namjoo tried to pry his hand off.

“I found a hospital, lets go,” he said and pulled her after him.

***trouble after sunshine mrrmmmm