Panic absorbed her eyes before she rushed forward to repeatedly punch the button to stop the elevator. Jongin watched confused, concerned. Namjoo dashed out when the elevator finally stopped. The sea of people murmured quietly then the doors started closing. Waking up from his daze Jongin hurried to the front forcing the doors open. Glancing left then right for the bathroom he waited in the corridor of the second floor.

Some four minutes passed before Namjoo slowly walked out from the women’s restroom. She appeared famished, somewhat tired. She sighed a breath before looking up to see him standing by the wall. Suddenly alert and a little embarrassed, unsure how to explain why he was there Jongin straightened.

“Uh…” he began without confidence, “are you not feeling well?”

Hurriedly walking by he heard her say, “Don’t talk to me.”

Hearing her voice surprised him for some reason. He was surprised she could come off so strong. He turned to follow.

“Um…you helped my mom yesterday. I should have said thanks.”

Still ignoring him, Namjoo increased her pace. The sound of her heels clicking became louder. He would let her go, but they were heading in the same direction anyway. Her car was in the parking lot. His car was in the parking lot.

“It’s Namjoo, right?” he asked.

She came to a slight halt before shoving the door open and descended the stairs. Jongin followed her. It suddenly amused him that he caught up so easily even as she quickened her pace to increase the gap between them.

Namjoo shoved the door to the lobby open and began strutting toward the front doors. Catching up to her Jongin said, “We’re neighbors, aren’t we? My name’s Jongin.”

Namjoo stubbornly kept her gaze glued to the front.

“I saw you in my yearbook.” He told. Namjoo glanced at him then quickened her pace out the front doors running across the street to the parking lot across the building.

Leaving her be, he watched her get into her car. He didn’t think it was worth running from him if she wanted to pretend she didn’t know him. The least she could have done was be civil with him. He would have appreciated it since it hadn’t been easy for him to talk to her.

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo had gone to sleep queasy and had woken up even sicker. She hadn’t been able to keep her breakfast down. And again, she couldn’t stand the smell of coffee. Feeling fatigued and frustrated Namjoo joined the crowd starting their day. Jongin just had to make himself a part of it, so when she nearly vomited in the elevator that morning she just wanted to die.

In the bathroom she had heaved and heaved and heaved until she was dizzy and ready to faint. Clinging onto the sink counter for balance she struggled to gather herself. It was embarrassing to walk out like she was losing her . She didn’t want anybody to realize she was pregnant, because what if after the abortion she started being questioned?

Namjoo couldn’t deal with that. Today was the doctor appointment. Everything would return to normal after today.

Only she became even more aggravated when she saw Jongin in the hallway. For whatever reason she didn’t want to know. She just wanted to avoid him. Why couldn’t he act like she didn’t exist?!

She needed to stay as far as possible from him. The last thing she ever needed was for him to discover she was having his baby.

But then he kept talking to her. It grew insanely hot on her nerves, so much that she just wanted to turn to him and tell him to shut up.

She couldn’t do it.

Namjoo managed to keep to herself until she sped off. She had requested half the day off in order to have her appointment in the morning. If she could have the abortion right away she could call her workplace and use a sick leave.

That was the plan. Namjoo had quickly and carefully devised it. There was no other way it was supposed to happen.

She arrived at the OB/GYN department nerve wrecked. Unable to go further after seeing all the bulging bellies. Expecting mothers casually going about their day as if popping out babies was a regular ritual. Namjoo’s throat tightened. She should have worn a mask to hide her face. She didn’t want to be recognized even if no one knew her.

One look at the husbands accompanying their wives made her want to choke. She should be having Seojun’s baby. If only she was having Seojun’s baby she wouldn’t be so tense. There would be nothing to worry about.

Two months she screamed to herself. The wedding was in two months. This had to happen today or never.

Jongin’s baby couldn’t live. Namjoo couldn’t let it destroy the future she very much wanted.

Forcing herself to stay determined, Namjoo stepped up to the receptionist to check in. She had come early because she was so nervous. Joining the other pregnant mothers, Namjoo tapped her feet anxiously. When that gave her stares she resorted to chewing her thumb to ward off her case of cold feet.

She wasn’t a bad person she told herself. Abortion happened from time to time. Many women secretly had it done. Plus, this baby was a mistake. This baby should have never existed. She didn’t know its father. Its father didn’t know her. Nothing good would ever come out of giving birth to the baby.

That was right. Nothing good would ever come out of having the baby. She didn’t love Jongin. Most likely, he would never be able to love her too.

A small part of her stubbornly wondered. If Jongin knew, what would he do? Would he want the baby?

Namjoo pressed a hand against her forehead. No second thoughts she told herself. She just had to do this.

The door opened and a woman who looked too young for her age called out, “Kim Namjoo?”

Her head sprang up. Clutching her purse tightly against her body Namjoo shuffled forward with heavy feet. The nurse was dolled up in her pink uniform. Smiling from ear to ear because she probably saw expecting mothers daily, because babies were the peak of one’s happiness. Babies were the fruit of a couple’s love for each other; the start of a new chapter. Babies started new dreams and awakened new hopes for mother and father.

But this was not the fruit of love she was carrying.

“How are you today?” the nurse greeted leading her down the hall to the room she would be meeting with the doctor.

“I’m good,” Namjoo lied. She was so far from good. She wanted to break down. She was embarrassed. Upset and frustrated. Edgy and her muscles were tense. Not to mention how nauseous she had been since early morning. Stressed because she couldn’t eat what she wanted to eat.

“I’m going to weigh you. If you could please step out of your shoes,” the nurse instructed when they reached a scale in the middle of the hallway.

She knew she had gained weight. She had observed herself more closely after Sinbi’s comment.

“That’s a good number,” the nurse commented scribbling something onto her clipboard. “This way, please.”

Namjoo was led into a small room equipped with an ultrasound machine and a bed. A desk and two chairs decorated the room. After measuring her blood pressure and asking a few questions to confirm her recent health the nurse left her alone with detailed pregnancy posters. Namjoo’s eyes jot back and forth between the clock and the desk.

It was overbearing sitting here alone into her own panicked thoughts. Wondering now how far along she was. A month and a half ago…was about seven or eight weeks. How big had the fetus grown in that time? Namjoo felt her head spin when her eyes landed on the posters taped to the wall. Namjoo quickly turned away when she saw the curled illustration and clung onto her purse even harder.

Please, please, please she begged the Lord or whoever was listening. She couldn’t have this baby.

“Good morning,” the voice of an older woman greeted closing the door behind her. Namjoo almost jumped at the noise and watched a brown-haired woman walk around the desk to sit. Her face was graced with fine lines and a trace of motherly patience. Namjoo deducted she should be in her forties or early fifties.

“I’m Dr. Woo. It’s nice to meet you Miss Kim.” Settling into her chair she pulled out a pair of glasses from her pocket. “Lets see what we have here.”

“I…” Namjoo spoke up, “I’m not here for a checkup.”

Dr. Woo’s eyes rose over her glasses.

“I want an abortion,” Namjoo made herself clear then she felt like sinking into the pits of hell when the doctor’s flat eyes landed on her.

Closing her manila folder, the doctor leaned back into her seat. A serious air of tension poured over her. “Miss Kim, you met a fertility specialist two months ago.”

Namjoo felt her cheeks grow hot. Lowering her head, she offered a discreet nod. She had forgotten to take her after the morning pills and Seojun hadn’t been careful either. It had happened more than once, but Namjoo hadn’t gotten pregnant. Since the wedding date had been finalized she had been worried and scared, so she’d had a test done to see if she was fertile. That was all the test was about.

“You are aware about the results?”

“Actually, I missed the appointment.” Namjoo confessed.

“I see,” Dr. Woo nonchalantly said. Adjusting her glasses further up her nose, she leaned forward. “I’ll be straight with you Miss Kim. What you have is a septate uterus. This is when the uterus is divided by a fibrous wall, called the septum. Most commonly, it only extends part way into the uterus, but in your case, it has reached as far as the cervix.”

Namjoo blinked. Fought to ward off the pending doom threatening to come to the fore. She shouldn’t be scared yet, but it was slowly coming. Feasting slowly like a beast savoring the taste of meat for the first time.

“Now, I respect your decision. You have every right to your body. Before you finalize any decision, I want you to consider your situation. It is very difficult for a woman to conceive with a septate uterus, and the risk of a miscarriage is extremely high. I’m going to be honest with you. If you decide not to have this baby, you may not have another one in your lifetime. The chance of pregnancy will be very low for you.”

֎֎֎֎֎

Jongin about pressed the call button but his phone started ringing instead. It was a number he didn’t recognize. Holding the phone up to his ear he answered.

“Jongin!” A thick voice greeted.

Jongin momentarily blanked.

“It’s me,” the person continued upon his silence. “Song Taesong!”

A lightbulb lit up over his head. “Taesong!”

“I’m back in Korea!” The man screeched energetically.

 Taesong had been on the same soccer team. The goalie, but he had departed from the team before senior year. After graduation he had gone off to study abroad and they had stayed in touch through email. Now the guy was some designer climbing the steep ladder up into fame. Jongin didn’t know the particulars because he rarely paid attention to fashion magazines. Of all his friends, Taesong was probably the best.

“No way,” Jongin almost laughed.

“I’ve been back for about a week, but I haven’t been able to clear my schedule,” Taesong explained. “Where are you?”

“Still in Seoul.”

“I’ll be coming up this weekend. Make some time for me.”

“I always have time,” Jongin commented. “Is this your temporary phone number?”

“I’ll be using it during my time here,” Taesong replied. “Don’t forget it. I’ll see you this weekend.”

The rest of the day flew by and Jongin went furniture shopping after work. Timed waned and the sun started setting, so he stopped to have a lone meal. Stars were popping out by the time he pulled into the parking lot and as he headed toward the building he realized he wasn’t the only one making the trek back home.

Namjoo’s figure was easy to make out. Coming back from the convenience store with two heavy bags. The front doors automatically opened for her. The trip should have been smooth but Namjoo somehow knocked herself down. The cup noodles and canned soup rolled out from the bag.

Hurrying forward to help he asked, “Are you ok?”

He touched her arm to help her up, but Namjoo gasped when she turned back to see him. Sprawled on the floor again she yanked her arm away.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned and turned away to keep him out of her view.

She wasn’t wearing makeup he saw. Even though she’d gathered her hair up into a bun there were many loose strands hanging around her head. She appeared disoriented, as if she’d slept for days and had just woken.

Kneeling down to help pick up her items he stole a peek at her. Her eyes were enlarged and puffy. A bit of red he noticed.

“Are you ok?” he wondered with more concern this time. Snatching the noodle bowl from him Namjoo stood and started toward the elevator. Punching the button quite aggressively.

When the doors opened he hurried in after her. Standing closely to the buttons to keep her distance she refused to let him hit the button to his floor. Eyeing her bags he saw sweets, chips, a glass of Coke. The rest were the food he’d just helped her pick up. His eyes lifted when he heard her sniff. Raising her hand up she touched her face.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

“Don’t bother me.” Her nose was obviously stuffed up. From crying. At least that could be better than being sick.

The elevator doors opened and Namjoo scurried out. Jongin watched her become smaller the farther she went and then the doors closed. Attention returning, he glanced at the buttons and pressed number five.

֎֎֎֎֎

Namjoo didn’t go to work. She sat in her car and cried.

Despair. Anger. Hopelessness. Frustration. Hate. Sadness.

Literally a mix of everything. Because her life was ruined.

She wanted to have Seojun’s children…not some stranger’s. Why was this happening to her? This was unjust. It didn’t make sense.

Why her?!

She cried harder. By herself, because she couldn’t tell anyone. And she wished with all her might that this wasn’t happening.

Seojun called three times. She didn’t pick up. She couldn’t face him. She was ashamed, embarrassed, remorseful. Grieving for the future she would never have.

They had planned for everything together. Spent so much time traveling from plaza to the next for the perfect place to say “I do.” Gone over catalogues agreeing and disagreeing over tuxes, wedding dresses. Nitpicking over table decorations, the floristry, and food for the evening.

Now because of her the effort seemed to had flown out the window. Regret over their entire relationship, the pushing and pulling, arguing and making up rocked her. The time spent with Seojun had amounted to nothing. Her dreams now meant nothing. The names they had picked out for their children would never come to light.

Namjoo had destroyed everything.

It was Jongin’s fault. It was this baby’s fault. They were taking everything away from her. They had ruined everything Namjoo had ever worked for!

She pounded the steering wheel furiously before clinging onto it so hard her knuckles went white. Then sobbing loudly as the hour ticked by.

Namjoo retreated to her apartment and sank into bed for a fitful sleep. Waking up late in the evening and taking one glance at herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged. Her complexion pale. More than that she was starving.

One single thought about the baby and Namjoo wanted to crumble.

This was her only chance to ever become a mother.

Her only chance…

Hiccupping, Namjoo stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Using up a good amount of the hot water until the bathroom became steamy and unbearable. Walking out she dug through her dresser for an easy to slip into dress and pulled her hair up before heading out.

Junk food swept through her mind. The craving for it quadrupled as she neared the convenience store. The meat in her fridge was expiring. Tomorrow she would stop by the mart to buy more fresh grocery. As she entered the convenience store Namjoo grabbed a variety of items on impulse and checked out. The female cashier stared at her as if she’d never seen the face of a woman who’d been crying before while ringing up her items. Namjoo nearly snapped at her before walking out without muttering a thank you.

And then a weary panic absorbed her when she ran into Jongin. Then anger set in when she realized he was the fault of her dilemma. She didn’t want to be near him. He reminded her why she would no longer be getting married. He was the reason why her happy ever after no longer existed.

The pain whirled deep inside her so much that she almost wanted to turn around to scream at him. “It’s your fault!” She wanted to scream. “You’ve ruined everything!”

Aggravated by the fact that she was pregnant with his baby Namjoo felt her eyes well up with angry tears. She didn’t want this to be happening. It wasn’t fair. Why did she need to be the one suffering the consequences? Why did things have to change for her when it ruined none for him?

Wiping a furious tear away Namjoo gritted her teeth.

If he hadn’t led her away. If she hadn’t gone with him. If only she hadn’t let him lull her into his kisses this wouldn’t be happening.

Namjoo ran out of the elevator when it opened without looking back. As she slammed the door to her apartment she gasped for air.

Suddenly it was crashing down on her. That this was her one in a million chance to become a mother. And Jongin had given the chance to her.

Sliding to the ground Namjoo sobbed into her hands.

As horrible as the situation had become she was going to have the baby.

***I know I sure am writing this differently, but I really like it so far. I just need to solidify the plot more and then drama here we come. Following the natural sequence of events, Namjoo is going through anger and denial before the stage of acceptance. In her head Jongin is the fault for all her wrongs, but once he knows about the baby he is going to want it.