When she woke up the following morning, Namjoo felt steadier. Somewhat calmer compared to the breakdown yesterday. She didn’t touch her pot of coffee or end up throwing it into her sink frustrated. Namjoo instantly went to the fridge and made herself a bowl of salad, which she ate peacefully. Managing to keep it down even when her body threatened to hurl it back up. Gulping one cup of water and she was out the door.

Namjoo’s nerves were shaky as she waited for the elevator. So she was pregnant she thought again, and no one knew. For now, she’d keep it to herself. She couldn’t imagine telling Seojun. She didn’t have the courage yet. About the baby, she didn’t know yet. Maybe she could raise it by herself. She would be fine she supposed. After a while everything would have to be ok. Life always moved on. She could do this.

Later she would go see Dr. Woo. Collect some more information about pregnancy, because she didn’t want to suffer a miscarriage. Right, she just had to be smart about this. She was an adult. She could take care of herself.

Namjoo joined the elder man in the elevator and waited as it went a floor down. She stuck to the back corner in hopes that Jongin would never mind her. When the doors hissed open her heart skyrocketed. Her entire body heated praying he would not look at her. Stiffening she stared at the floor and internally screamed when he leaned against the back wall right beside her.

Namjoo tried to edge away uselessly. Clutching onto her bag she pressed her teeth together.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

Namjoo didn’t look at him, but she noticed the elder man and the woman joining them glance at her curiously. Becoming even more embarrassed, Namjoo wished he would know when to shut up.

“Oh…sorry,” he apologized sensing her discomfort, “it’s just, you didn’t look so well yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” Namjoo snapped then bit her lower lip. He didn’t need to act like he knew her. She was perfectly fine if he never looked at her again. Finally opening up to the lobby Namjoo hurried out.

On the drive to work she laid out her plans carefully. After her shift she would go to the hospital. She would talk to Dr. Woo about her decision. She could be angry, wallow in despair, ache and cry even more but she had to own up. The baby was already growing inside her.

Namjoo rode the elevator up to her office wondering if she had undereaten, because suddenly she was hungry again. The mere thought of food stressed her out. Would a chocolate bar settle her hunger until noon?

She shouldn’t have spoken so fast.

A few steps into the hallway and she spotted Seojun waiting in front of her office. Skidding to a stop Namjoo backtracked down the hall escaping into an intersecting hallway. Discovering the bathroom, she took shelter in one of the stalls with her heart raging panic. Her phone rang surprising her even further.

Please, please, please she quietly begged. Don’t be Seojun. Holding her phone up she glanced at the name of the caller.

Seojun’s mom.

Her heart whammed into her stomach.

Her hand shook as she stared at the screen with enlarged eyes. What to do? Oh God, what should she do?!

What would they think of her if she intentionally avoided the call? What would she say if she picked up?!

The dilemma had Namjoo wishing she never woke up that morning. She wanted to puke, but the urge would not come.

The phone stopped ringing then picked up again. Echoing, screaming in her ears. Namjoo wanted to crumble again. Just cry, but if only that would do anything for her...

in a breath Namjoo pressed the call button and held the phone to her ear. “Mom,” she would have answered chirpily but instead answered, “Yes?”

The plaza they had decided to rent for the day of their wedding swept through her mind. The prettiest crystal chandelier she had ever seen in her life hang down from the ceiling. Sparkling mystically with the light’s glare. How much prettier would the room be decorated with flowers varying from purple to blue and pink.

Namjoo had spent many nights dreaming of walking down the aisle. Walking toward Seojun as he extended his hand toward her. He was supposed to be her happy ever after.

“I’m just calling to see if you can make some time for tonight. Your father and I would like to have dinner with you,” the woman was literally smiling as she spoke.

Choking on her emotions, Namjoo squeezed her eyes close. Holding a hand against her forehead to steel herself she replied, “Not today. I…I’m busy.”

“You shouldn’t work so much. You’re going to look so exhausted on your wedding day.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Namjoo said. “Really, I have to go to work now.”

“Then I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Don’t overexert yourself, dear,” Seojun’s mother comforted then hung up.

Slumping against the stall, Namjoo sighed. They would never forgive her.

By the time she left the bathroom, Seojun had already left.

That afternoon, Namjoo was stuck in the meeting room with a crew of supervisors. In two months an annual fashion show would be held at Crowne Plaza. They had been chosen to supply the troop of models with makeup. Which all but meant a ton of paperwork and more meetings day in and day out. Namjoo wasn’t feeling very high. Actually, all she could think about was going to the bathroom and what to eat for lunch.

“This is a great opportunity for us to promote ourselves,” the chair leader expressed enthusiastically. “And finally launch our new line. We’re going to have to really stick our noses in this. Lets work even harder to meet all our deadlines.

“First, we’re going to have to coordinate colors to match wardrobe and makeup with skin type. For this the models will be coming in tomorrow to talk about any skin problems they may have. Di, clear out space in the meeting on the second floor and go through inventory…”

Namjoo’s mind fazed in and out the entire rest of the day then she was back in her car and on the way to the hospital. Walking down the hall with a heavy heart toward the OB/GYN clinic. Staring at the pamphlets detailing the course of pregnancy; what to expect, how to care for oneself, about vitamins and supplements. All of it including illustrations of how a baby grew by the week.

Part of her remained sick at the fact she was having a baby. The other part in emotional distress because she was going to be a mother.

Dr. Woo welcomed her with a motherly warmth. Didn’t even question her about the ring on her finger, but they sat down to talk about her general health, her job, her diet and exercise. And then Namjoo saw the baby for the first time. A tiny thing. A disaster, but her miracle as well as a mistake.

“From the screen, I’d say you’re at about eight weeks,” Dr. Woo explained moving the mouse over her abdomen. “The baby is about as big as a raspberry right now. This faint thumping you hear? It’s the baby’s heartbeat.”

Namjoo nodded, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

“This here is the fingers and toes. They’re still webbed as of yet and the baby is developing taste buds, which may explain why you want certain foods over others,” Dr. Woo grinned. “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Namjoo had to admit. It was…exciting.

She tried not to get emotional when Dr. Woo handed her a picture of the fetus at the end of her appointment. She drove home with a load of pamphlets tucked under her purse in the passenger’s seat. After showering she would call for pizza and relax for the evening.

Pulling into the empty parking lot, Namjoo parked her car and started toward the apartment complex holding the pamphlets carefully against her chest. As she neared the front doors slid open and a woman walked out huffing. Cautiously moving to her left to avoid the woman was to no avail. Turning around to glance up at the building once more the woman turned around bumping into her. Dropping the pamphlets with a gasp Namjoo stared down at the scattered papers then to the woman.

She was pretty. Thin and tall with wavy hair. Wearing a dress that Namjoo would have thought popped out from a Vogue magazine.

“Excuse me,” the woman rasped without apologizing.

“Mina?” A voice called out.

Namjoo’s heart thumped into her rib cage. Her eyes widened as she turned to see Jongin coming up the sidewalk with a bag branded with the convenience store’s name. In the immediate second her eyes flew down to the pamphlets scattered at her feet.

“I looked all over for you!” The woman named Mina shouted.

Jongin shot her a frown before lowering to pick up the pamphlets.

“No!” Namjoo panicked kneeling down to shovel them toward her before he saw what they were about.

Her heart continued pumping until it seemed like it was traveling up her veins into her brain. Pounding and pounding, drumming against her ear drums. She watched in horror when he picked up the one closest to his feet. Quickly snatching it from him, Namjoo clung onto the pile and rose to her feet nerve wrecked. She was sweating neck down.

“Are you ok?” Jongin wondered noticing her pale complexion.

“I am talking to you!” The woman bombarded.

Namjoo’s eyes shot right, left, up and down then watched as a car roared up the street to the front of the apartment. As it stopped in front of them the pamphlets drifted back to the floor. She helplessly watched as the true drama unfolded before her.

Seojun stepped out of the car, walked around the trunk, and huffed as he stopped in front of them, his eyes sternly set on her.

“Why weren’t you picking up?!” Seojun demanded perplexed before shooting Jongin and Mina a glance. Silence overwhelmed the atmosphere in that second before he wondered, “You are?”

“My business is with him,” Mina folded her arms glaring at Jongin.

Jongin opened his mouth but nothing came out. Namjoo wanted to faint to pretend this wasn’t happening, but she saw Jongin glance down at the pamphlets finding it the perfect excuse to ignore the woman to her right. Collecting the pamphlets calmly he rose slowly and glanced at her.

Fear elapsed through her pupils when their eyes caught. Shaken to the core, Namjoo couldn’t find the will to move. Time froze in that moment. Curiosity fluctuated through his eyes, but his mouth didn’t move. Namjoo was internally screaming for mercy. Begging for lightning to strike.

Seojun and Mina disappeared. All she could see was Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. The blank in his eyes and the question on his face. The spotlight had landed on her at last and the camera was doing a 360-degree spin around her and Jongin. Then her stomach cramped and she was going to puke.

She shot past him when Seojun reached out to touch her. Namjoo managed to run and run down the street until she dropped to her knees and heaved.

֎֎֎֎֎

“What the hell…” Mina muttered watching the two disappear, but Jongin couldn’t really hear her over his own dismay. His eyes lay on the crumpled pamphlets in his hand. The words pregnancy shooting out at him.

His memory whirled back to the night with Namjoo in the motel. Lavishly kissing and undressing her. Ashamed, he had thought it best to bury it but then the guilt got to him.

Looking at Mina he wondered. What if he had gotten Namjoo pregnant?

“Are you listening?!” Mina raised her voice. Attention coming to the fore he heard her say, “I got a job. I’m finally a model, Jongin!”

Grabbing his hands, she clung onto them. “Come back home, huh? I’m sorry I missed your calls, but I was so busy signing papers and looking into this new agency.”

“Mina,” Jongin pulled his hands away. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” she refuted. “I tore it up, your breakup letter. That was cowardly!”

“You didn’t answer your phone when I needed to talk to you.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Mina argued. “I said I tore it up! If I don’t agree to the breakup, it’s not official.”

He sighed, “That’s not the point, Mina.”

“It is!” Mina’s eyes went wide, irate. “Why are we talking about this? I came for you, Jongin. You should be happy.”

“You ignored me,” Jongin clearly stated.

“I was busy!” Mina threw out her arms as if she couldn’t get any more through to him.

“You could have called back,” Jongin gritted his teeth. “I left you more than two messages.”

“I’m sorry.”

He wanted to toss his head back, groan. Instead, he calmly said what he’d been determined to say, “I’m not coming back, Mina. Look, I’m happy for you, but I’ve been thinking a lot. I don’t think what you want in your future and what I want in mine are the same.”

Her lips grew stern. Her widened eyes becoming cold slits. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to get married. I want to start a family,” Jongin confessed.

“We can wait,” Mina interjected almost cheerily, “we have our entire lives ahead of us, but I can only be a model once! I’m going to walk in a fashion show!”

“See, that’s it! You don’t understand!” Jongin fought.

“Then what!” Mina raised her voice again. “What do you want?!”

Jongin wanted to shout back, but he just looked at her. Mina, a woman with big dreams. Who valued her body more than the person next to her. The kind of woman who looked after her face like it was glass. A scratch and she threw a fit. A broken nail and she would cry. She was a doll he couldn’t touch, whose heart he had never been able to conquer.

“I just think…you can find someone who’s better suited for you than me,” Jongin quietly said.

Her brows drew together, hurt and confused. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Jongin.”

He tried to conjure up their argument a month ago, the one that made him stab her in the back. He couldn’t remember it.

“Mina, I was never as devoted as you thought I was,” Jongin apologetically looked her in the eyes. “You should go.”

He didn’t wait for her to make her exit but turned toward the elevator to head up. Once he was in the sanctity of his home he laid out the pamphlets Namjoo had been carrying with her. Studying them carefully, trying to deduce how many weeks had gone by.

She wasn’t showing yet, so she was still in the early stages. Counting back to the time he’d slept with her it could be possible the baby was his. Every time he appeared she seemed edgy and tense. Could it be?

But what should he do?

If Namjoo was further than a month along she was doing this all by herself. If the baby was his, he wanted to be there.

֎֎֎֎֎

The tears gushed out of her eyes stinging her senses as acid poured from . Nearly choking before a hand landed on her back to pat her. Namjoo heaved a sob knowing now she couldn’t hide.

“What is wrong with you? Are you not feeling well?” Seojun helped her to her feet.

Crying, Namjoo hiccupped and pressed a hand against her eyes unable to look at him.

This was it, she thought, the end of everything.

“Come on, I’ll buy you some water,” he led her toward the convenience store.

Namjoo sat quietly with him at a table outside taking small then bigger sips grateful for the refreshing liquid.

“Is something bothering you lately?” Seojun worried.

Namjoo wanted to laugh. A lot was bothering her. Her sore s. Morning sickness. The constant urge to eat something. The single fact that she was pregnant was daunting her.

“I’m sorry, Seojun,” Namjoo sniffed. She had felt like the entire world to him. Namjoo had never known herself to be so lucky. It tore her up inside as she reached into her purse and slid the photo over. Knowing this would have to happen sometime, but not this soon. Her eyes welled up terribly when Seojun stared down at the ultrasound.

Shocked, his head sprang up to look at her for an answer. A cry forced its way through and tears streamed down her face again.

“Is that…”

“It’s not yours,” Namjoo sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Laughing in disbelief, he looked away then laughed again. Exhaling he rubbed his face. “I need a moment, so you should go.”

Namjoo’s lower lips quivered at his reaction. He should be getting mad. Screaming at her. Be going hysterical. Without saying anything, Namjoo took the picture and walked back toward her apartment helplessly wiping her tears.

The front lights were on as she approached the apartment complex. Sobbing quietly, Namjoo clung onto her purse wishing tomorrow wouldn’t come. She couldn’t stand this. She really couldn’t do this anymore. Maybe she wasn’t ready to become a mother and this was really a mistake. She wasn’t strong enough to handle the emotional turmoil of telling Seojun the truth, to wipe away her future.

Midway through wiping her tears Namjoo glanced up to see a shadow by the front doors. She wanted to run again when she realized who it was.

Stepping away from the building, Jongin took a stride toward her. Quietly, he held out the pamphlets she had dropped twice. Namjoo stared at the papers wishing she had never gone back to see Dr. Woo.

Her arms tightened around her purse. Unable to go forward any further or trek back where she came from. She needed to wail.

Why was this happening to her?

“I kept them for you,” Jongin touched her hand and settled the papers into her palm. Namjoo’s entire world cartwheeled when he looked into her eyes and smiled.

Of the endless, vast world Jongin had once lit up the stars in her universe. Of the many people that knew how to make her smile, just seeing him had done the magic. Looking at him completed all her wishes of tomorrow. Once, she had written him a confession letter only to toss it out.

Kim Jongin, who she had quietly loved, would never see her.

But he was looking at her now and she felt like the stars that had started dying were starting to glow a little.

The pamphlets scattered onto the floor again when Seojun yanked her arm, forcing her around. With full blown eyes he demanded, “Get rid of it.”

***Well...that worked out well