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Open. Close. Open. Close.

Repetitively snapping the ring box open and close. As she sat there in front of the dead television, Namjoo thought about her parents. Only daydreaming about how supportive they would be of her when she told them she would become a single mother. Trusting they would have her back. Not looking the other way.

The reality of the matter was, they wouldn’t always be happy with her decisions. There would be consequences. Her parents would have to bear the burden of her decision. Would have to face the backlash of the community; the gossip that would go around town, would travel among their relatives. Everyone would wonder how her parents had raised her to become so irresponsible. The grapevine connecting her relatives extended over mountains and rivers that no event occurred without a peep.

That the successful daughter her parents had boasted about was now carrying some stranger’s baby. Having ditched the perfect potential husband for the life of a struggling mother everyone would ridicule. Serves her parents right for talking so big. Their family was no better than their neighbor’s drunkard son who couldn’t hold a job for his wife’s sake. How long would that talk last? How would hear parents feel to keep hearing the whispers behind their backs because of something their daughter had done?

Shame. Guilt. Remorse. Namjoo felt like she was drowning in a never-ending glass of wine. Hearing Seojun repeating in her head that she should have listened to him. That he was right, was always right, would always be right.

Stress made her shoulders droop lower, her heart heavier.

Opening the box, she watched the diamond glisten prettily underneath the lights. Snapping it shut when her free hand touched her belly.

Namjoo wanted to cry again. She wanted the baby.

Would she be able to break her parents’ hearts? Face the wrath of Seojun’s mother?

The box clattered to the ground and Namjoo hugged herself. painfully as her stomach squeezed itself. It lasted a few seconds before she gasped. Sweating profusely, she buried her face into her knees.

Feeling so utterly helpless.

The baby or the wedding.

Baby or the wedding…

There was no one else she could think of. No one she could trust if she had to put her life on the line. Who would help her without asking for nothing in return?

Fumbling for her phone Namjoo pressed the name belonging to the person dearest to her and listened to a croaky voice pick up. The faucet to her emotions cranked open in anticipation making go sore.

“Namjoo? Oh, our Namjoo!” her mother screeched happily. Yelling into the background, “Honey, our daughter is on the phone!” Speaking into the phone with motherly love, “It’s late, why aren’t you asleep? Oh! I should go check on that old man. He slipped in the shower the other day. It was the funniest thing. He tried grabbing the water on his way down, as if that would hold him up!”

Welling up with tears Namjoo almost choked on a laugh and felt teardrops fall. Thinking again she should have called them sooner. She missed her mother’s voice. Her father’s clumsiness. Their presence. Their comfort.

“Mom,” she wailed in a trembling voice wishing her mom was closer; that she was more than a voice she could hear during hard times. How comforting would her mom’s hug be if she were here. Her embrace would protect her when winds turned into stormy rain. When rain turned to hail, her father would spit in Seojun’s face with more savagery than his knife cutting skills.

Knowing her parents would come to her defense made her a thousand times more vulnerable. Crying now because she wanted to be home again. Surrounded by warmth and love where not an inch of loneliness could make her cold.

They would be disappointed with her, but they would still love her because she was their daughter. They would forgive her. They would help her.

She would trust them if she couldn’t trust anyone else.

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Sleepily rolling onto his side, Jongin opened his eyes realizing he’d left the lights on the entire night. His eyes landed on the pillow Namjoo had been using. Thinking he could smell a bit of her. Sitting up he saw that he had fallen asleep on the bed. Climbing off the mattress he walked out stopping on his way to peer over the couch thinking Namjoo would have slept in his place.

She wasn’t there.

Turning toward the door he saw that her shoes were still missing. She didn’t have the keys. Of course, she wouldn’t have come.

She should have called him to open the door he thought. She had his number after all.

Jongin washed up before starting on breakfast. Deciding to make another serving for Namjoo. He’d bring it upstairs to her confident that she would be in. Where else would she go? He’d give her the key when he saw her and tell her to bring the dishes back down when she was done. She could keep the key in the meantime.

That sounded like a plan.

Breakfast was sizzling on the stove when his doorbell rang. Namjoo was on the other side wearing slacks, appearing bright faced like she was headed somewhere.

“Can I come in real quick?” Namjoo asked.

“Huh?” Confused about what real quick meant he stepped back to let her in.

“I just came for my duffel bag,” Namjoo explained walking by. He watched her head toward the bedroom. Following he stopped at the doorway to see her open the dresser for some clothes. She had just unpacked the other day. To see her packing again alerted his consciousness.

“What’s going on?” he wondered. She was leaving he tried not to think.

Leaving.

He had been upset with her the previous morning, but he didn’t think he was upset enough to want to see her leaving. They had barely started figuring everything out.

It couldn’t be she’d made up with Seojun?

What had happened between them yesterday? Did that guy suddenly want the baby now? Or had Namjoo agreed to go visit the hospital with him?

Jongin’s mind hurled back and forth as he stood there incapable of accepting what was happening. That Namjoo was packing and going somewhere.

Namjoo glanced at him as if she’d heard his thoughts then resumed her packing. “I’m going home.”

“What?” More alert now.

Namjoo’s home was upstairs in room 640. If not that, he knew her parents had relocated. Thus, home meant faraway.

Permanently? he wanted to ask.

What was she thinking? He needed her to elaborate.

What had happened yesterday?

Concentrated, Namjoo seemed to pack faster. Jongin’s mind continued churning like wildfire. Still unable to think aloud his thoughts, ask her any more questions.

Finally zipping the bag, she lifted it up as she rose. “I miss my parents, so I’m going to go figure things out.”

A moment of silence drifted between them somewhat awkwardly as he continued to stand silently at the door. Blocking her way unbeknownst to him.

Walking toward him she said by way of farewell, “Thanks, for letting me stay these few days. It was really nice of you.”

Surprised, he felt her brush past. A pang traveled through him. There were still things they needed to talk about. He had wondered so many things, thinking, imagining scenarios last night.

Spinning around he took two steps before catching her arm. “Why?”

Namjoo glanced at him before quickly blinking and coughed. Putting a hand up to , she asked, “Is something burning?”

His eyes shot toward the kitchen where the eggs were charcoal black on the pan. Releasing her he rushed into the kitchen. Turning the stove off he tossed the pan into the sink as smoke filtered his apartment in a thick fog.

“Are you crazy?” Namjoo shrieked covering as she pushed open the window. A blast of fresh air escaped into the apartment.

“Sorry!” he apologized watching the water run over his ruined pan with a whoosh. Staring in her direction again he saw her trying to wave the polluted air out the window. Then his eyes landed on the duffel bag by her feet.

Turning the faucet off he walked toward the living room. “Are you going to Jeonju?”

Namjoo spun around to look at him. “Yes.”

“I’ll give you a ride.” He offered, but more like blurted.

Her eyes went wide taken aback by him. “No. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you able to drive?”

Namjoo waved him off as if he’d said something silly, “I’m taking the train.”

That was a convenient mode of transportation. Besides the wait at the station where crowds could drown her out. Although he couldn’t foresee anything dangerous happening, Namjoo was traveling alone. She was pregnant and that was his child.

He still needed an excuse.

“It’s uncomfortable. There’s going to be a lot of noise and there’s not a lot of space to move around,” Jongin told. “Plus, you’re with a bunch of strangers. Who knows if it’s safe.”

“That’s the point of a trip,” Namjoo rebounded. “I’m sure other people will help if anything happens.”

“I said I’ll drive you. It saves money,” Jongin re-emphasized his offer. “You can still get your refund.”

“You work today,” Namjoo offered the best excuse to hold him back.

“I can take a day off,” Jongin immediately said. He just needed to make a phone call. “Just let me change and I can take you.”

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“Jongin, you don’t have to,” Namjoo tried once more even though she realized saying it wouldn’t stop him.

Unlocking his car, he opened the back door and took the duffel bag from her. Namjoo was left with no choice but to relinquish her grip on it. “It’s not a bother. I could use some air myself.”

By driving her to Jeonju? Namjoo couldn’t understand.

Shuffling toward the passenger’s door as he started toward the driver’s door, she tried again, “I don’t want to bother you. Plus, you should be going to work.”

“I said it’s all right,” he assured slipping into his seat, started the car, and stared at his gas meter glad with his decision yesterday to refill the gas tank.

Namjoo momentarily stood by the door before getting inside, muttering, “Seriously.”

“What’d you say?” he asked pulling out of the parking lot.

“Nothing.” She stared out of the side window.

“Have you eaten?” Jongin wondered starting down the road. Eyeing the blooming traffic. Vehicles cutting into lanes and horns blasting. A typical morning.

“I already did.”

“Taesong stopped by yesterday.”

Namjoo looked at him then away.

“Taesong said he saw you.”

“We kind of ran into each other,” Namjoo said, “that’s all.”

A moment of silence drifted between them. A semi-truck cut into their lane slowing Jongin down. Switching lanes, he sped past it.

“You didn’t come back yesterday,” Jongin noted taking a quick peek at her.

“There were things…I wanted to think about,” Namjoo answered. She didn’t want to tell him she had spent the evening calling and crying to her mother because she had been over emotional. “Why? Did he say something to you?”

“No. Should he have?”

“No.”

Their gazes crossed as if there was something needed to be said. Neither added to their answers. Jongin had to turn away first to keep his eyes on the road. This felt unnaturally real. The two of them on the road together so suddenly.

If they were closer, more familiarly acquainted they would be laughing, singing or jamming to the radio and sharing a bag of chips. Telling each other stories about the people they didn’t like at work. This would be a trip that actually meant something to them. Each would have a restaurant in mind, places they wanted to visit. Yet it wasn’t.

Jongin had come because he wanted to make certain Namjoo returned. It wasn’t his nature to act so impulsively, but it had felt like Namjoo was saying goodbye when she walked through the door. Last night he had thought about a family. His family. Namjoo was his key.

He wanted to be a father more than ever. Jongin just couldn’t let go of his unborn child.

Jongin wanted to know how she truly felt about the baby. He needed to hear her side. Know what she wanted before finalizing his decision. In the end, if they each wanted something different he would raise the baby himself.

Looking at Namjoo now he thought she didn’t look so self-centered. She would love the baby, too. But that was his wishful thinking.

Would they be able to be happy if things worked out?

Would Namjoo be willing to try?

Pulling up to a drive-thru he asked, “Would you like anything?”

“I’m not hungry,” she shook her head but he ordered her a hash brown anyway. As he pulled up to the window to get his food she wondered, “Should we switch while you eat?”

Leaning out to grab his bag of food and coffee he thanked the person before driving off. “I can drive.”

It turned out, Jongin had done a good deed by getting her something. The warm piece of potato felt like it was melting in her hands when he handed it to her. Calling for her to eat it. Namjoo took a greedy bite indulging in its taste. Imagining that the baby was happily absorbing half of it from her.

“Are you ok?” Jongin asked.

She glanced at him with her lips smothered in pieces of hash brown.

“Here,” he handed her a napkin trying not to laugh, “You must be hungry.”

Embarrassed, Namjoo snatched the napkin. The two-hour drive shouldn’t have lasted so long, but it did. Learning for the first time that driving with a pregnant woman Jongin should have been better prepared. Namjoo ended up heaving after finishing the hash brown. As it threatened to come up once and twice they panicked about where she could relieve herself. Unable to pull over on the freeway, Jongin dumped out the wrappers and uneaten food into his car. Handing Namjoo the paper bag just in time as she vomited.

For the remaining half hour Jongin drove with all windows rolled down, his car reeking of puke and fast food.

Pulling up to a rest stop, Jongin waited outside for Namjoo to use the bathroom. Earlier, they’d fought over who should throw away the paper bag. He would do it but Namjoo argued she’d take care of it. Their battle lasted a long minute outside his car in front of the public restroom. People stared, others scurried by with their noses pinched shut.

Namjoo threw away the bag in the end. They had separated without one glance and now he was waiting for her to finish her business. Jongin was currently debating whether they should grab something to eat or wait the hour to arrive in Jeonju. He didn’t want another accident in the car, but if Namjoo was hungry he was more than happy to buy something for her.

“Feeling better?” he asked when she stepped out.

“Oh…yea…” Pulling the sleeves of her cardigan over her wrist she looked around embarrassed. “Sorry about earlier.”

Cheerily laughing, he comforted, “It’s the fun of what a road trip is.”

The comment didn’t seem to help.

“Come on,” he gestured toward the food court, “I’ll buy you a corn dog or a pizza if you prefer.”

Namjoo didn’t refute. Following more than willingly, they meticulously went through the selection of cheap and affordable foods. Walking back and forth indecisively because Namjoo couldn’t make up her mind.

“You said you’re buying?” Namjoo asked. Then decided, “I want the corn dog and spicy rice cakes.”

Sitting at a table they shared the bowl of spicy rice cakes as she ate her corn dog. He watched as her face oozed satisfaction. Feeling generous he allowed her to have the last bite of their bowl then they were back on the road. More relaxed now. Still driving with all four windows open. Namjoo spent the beginning half of their trip with eyes glued to her phone.

Scrolling through it she held out the device, “Have you been here?”

Taking a quick glance, he saw a dozen tiled roofs of traditional houses. He had no idea what Namjoo was looking at. “Where’s that?”

“It’s a hanok village in Jeonju,” Namjoo exclaimed studiously scrolling.

“Have you been there?”

“Once,” Namjoo answered.

“Is it fun?”

“I think so,” Namjoo glanced at him. “I honestly haven’t been around Jeonju much.” Eyes on the road now she directed, “You can take this exit. My parents’ house is nearby.”

“Really?” An hour had passed quite fast. “What are your parents like?”

“They’re just…normal people,” Namjoo replied. Pointing to the stop sign ahead she told, “Turn here.”

He followed Namjoo’s directions eventually pulling up to a stained white building surrounded by a gravel yard. Sparse green grass sprouted randomly as if they didn’t know where to grow. A wooden table plainly decorated the yard with a golden Camry parked to its left. At the back a long green hose lay abandoned on the gravel beside a pair of sandals.

The gray door opened and a tiny woman with permed black hair stepped out searching left and right. Her small body slightly arched as her swift legs walked back and forth. Totally forgetting him, Namjoo quickly released her seatbelt and ran outside screaming for her mom. Jongin watched as Namjoo suddenly burst into tears in her mother’s arms.

He gave them a few minutes before stepping out and reached into the back for her duffel bag. As soon as the car door closed the front door burst open again. This time a man with speckled white hair growing around the rim of his head charged their way, waving a cleaver around screaming, “Who is it?! Namjoo, you tell me what this jerk did!”

***yay he followed her!!