◊◊◊◊◊

Noh Saemi was particularly easy to spot. Sitting alone in the corner of the room at a table booth. When she spotted him she immediately rose to her feet to greet him. Slipping on that soft yet pretty smile. She was in a nice spring dress and heels to match, purse to match, accessories to match.

“I’m sorry I ordered first. I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” she quietly apologized sliding into her seat, he into his.

“No, it’s ok,” he assured. He hadn’t been on a date in a long time. He wasn’t quite sure how to do this.

“You didn’t bring him with you?”

“What?” he asked confused.

“Your son,” Saemi clarified. “I heard you have a son. They were very upfront about that.”

“They?” Sehun frowned.

“The adults,” she answered then caught herself and laughed, “I mean, we’re all adults.”

“I get it,” Sehun calmly said. “And no. He’s on a play date today.”

“He has a friend?” she wondered curiously. Sehun gave her a once over wondering why they were talking about his son all of a sudden. He hadn’t expected this. More of what were their hobbies, what movies they liked, about their jobs. Boring adult stuff. But they were talking about his son.

Noh Saemi was curious about his son.

“Just once. Get to know her. She’s a nice woman. You know what her job is? She aids a national foundation in ending child starvation all over the world. Isn’t that impressive? She’ll be a good fit for Gunta.”

He heard his mother in his head. Wondered if he may have been too critical about the woman his mother had been seeking out for his sake.

Ok, he would consider but he was not ready.

“He made a friend at the daycare,” Sehun started explaining then he started talking about Moowon. He had left Gunta behind to play with Moowon. In his mother’s care.

Saying it aloud astonished him suddenly. He never just left Gunta with anyone. Today, though, he had chosen to leave Gunta with someone who was a near stranger.

True he was a single father. He was not experienced with childcare. Rearing energetic Gunta was a hardship itself. Most times he did not understand his son, but he tried his best to meet his needs. Make him happy so he didn’t feel like he was losing out.

Had he inconvenienced Namjoo by leaving Gunta with her? Without saying it, he was sure now that maybe Moowon’s father wasn’t around either. If he had such a hard time with Gunta, what about her?

“Sounds like he has a lot of fun at daycare,” Saemi smiled prettily. For a second, her image reminded him of his own wife.

“He looks forward to it,” he heard himself replying.

“A lot of the kids I work with also have parents who work too hard but earn too little. They have no one to help them,” Saemi went on. “It’s really heartbreaking, so I think you’re really lucky. Gunta has his grandparents and his friends. And you’re a successful man.”

He earned another soulful smile from her. Sehun tried one too but wasn’t sure it was a smile at all.

“Oh right,” Saemi reached into her purse. “Here,” she slipped two tickets onto the table, “I thought it might be uncomfortable going to the movies. Deciding on what to see is kind of tough. Plus, with all these rom-coms out I’m not sure we’d sit well.”

She was thoughtful he decided. Another point for her.

“There’s a culture night at the bottom floor of the museum,” she further explained. “I think it would be interesting to explore. They’ll have food, too, so we won’t have to worry about dinner.”

“Why not?” he said. “I can go get the car.”

“Oh no,” she declined. “I drove here myself. Lets meet up over there, if you don’t mind.”

He gave her another once over, wondering who exactly his mom had hooked him up with.

As promised, they split up and met up at the museum. Joined the line and showed their tickets on their way in. Saemi was as smart as his mother guaranteed. Aware of some cultures as they walked around the lobby flourishing with visitors and the scent of food, she explained to him various rituals that people practiced, about tribes, wars, and barren lands. Food was scarce she would say in this region, abundant in another, overpopulation here, technology improving in this sanction and so on and so on. Sehun listened though not remembering.

The sky was darkening when they stepped out. Rain was pouring like faucet water. People were scurrying to their cars, urgently running toward taxis.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Sehun offered slipping his jacket off creating a makeshift tent above their heads.

“I’ll be fine. My car’s nearby,” she declined.

“I figure it’s the least I can do,” Sehun said, “since you made the itinerary for today.”

Saemi shared another one of her fragile smiles and nodded. Holding the makeshift tent steadily, they raced down the steps and into the pooling rain. The dank parking lot was lit up with lights eerily. Saemi’s black Volvo lit up brightly as she pressed the remote to unlock the door.

“Hold on,” she said opening the door. Leaning inside she opened the little drawer and handed him a slip. “There’s a picnic next weekend. It’s more like a fundraiser, but there’ll be fun activities and food. If you’re not busy, why not take your son?”

Sehun folded the slip into his back pocket. “I’ll be there.”

“Then thanks. I enjoyed today,” she grinned sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’ll see you next week.”

Sehun closed the door for her before turning around to run to his car. Blasting the heat to warm himself up he reversed and drove onto the street. One look at the time told him he had stayed out for much longer than expected. He had thought he’d just share a drink with her and be on his way, but Noh Saemi proved to be a far more acceptable woman than he’d thought.

He made it to Namjoo’s within the half hour and stood at the front doors waiting to be buzzed in with his umbrella. It took a much longer time for someone to finally unlock the door for him. He worried if the kids were giving her a rough time. He would apologize firstly he decided on his way up.

The woman who opened the door for him was not Namjoo. It was some other stranger he had never seen before, which left him baffled. They blinked at each other in the doorway.

“Uh…this is…do I have the right place?” Sehun stammered. Stepping back, he glanced at the gold-plated numbers on the door. He wasn’t wrong.

“Who are you?” the woman wondered.

“Ah…I left my son with Namjoo…he’s here, right?” Sehun peeked inside, still standing on the other side of the threshold.

“They’re currently asleep,” the woman explained.

“Oh…I see. I’m sorry I came late,” he apologized then stopped himself short not knowing why he was apologizing to this woman he didn’t know. He noticed her eyes landing on his umbrella and looked at her curiously.

She hesitated momentarily before asking, “Did you see her outside on your way in?”

“Who?” he stupidly asked.

“Namjoo,” the woman appeared concerned. “Would you mind looking for her? I’m worried.”

Sehun glanced at his umbrella then back at the woman.

◊◊◊◊◊

Forgoing the elevator Namjoo took Daehwi down the stairway where it was quieter. Where they could be secluded.

“How dare you come all the way here!” Namjoo first raised her voice as she turned around to look at him. “You got MIA for months and you have the guts to come here?! Here of all places?!”

“Then where was I supposed to go?” Daehwi simply shrugged. “You threatened to keep my son away from me.”

“Your son, your son,” Namjoo laughed. Rubbing her hands across her face she walked in a tiny circle. Facing him, she cruelly asked, “Is he your son?”

“Namjoo,” Daehwi sternly stared at her with taut lips.

“Then where is the money? You promised child support!” Namjoo yelled. A door above them hissed open and Namjoo looked up to see a woman coming down the stairs. She glanced at them surprised.

Sighing irritated, Namjoo went further down the stairway. Daehwi followed without choice.

“I am trying,” he said from behind. “I’m having a hard time, too. I was laid off. Then I got another and was laid off again. It’s difficult in these economic times.”

“Again with your excuses,” Namjoo grumbled. Wheeling around on him with bugging eyes she deepened her tone, “Your son just wants to see you!” Groaning, she threw her hands out, “I have to make a freaking phone call threatening to keep him from you for you to make it all the way here? You’re so pathetic!”

“I was laid off! But I have a job now. I used my first paycheck to come this far by taxi,” Daehwi made his sorry excuse.

Namjoo found herself laughing mockingly. “First paycheck.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he warned.

“I have all the right to laugh at you,” Namjoo hissed. “You left me in the dumps to run away with an announcer who lived on her father’s bank account, but look at you now.”

“So I’m here,” Daehwi calmly said, his expression suddenly weary, sorry. “I’m back.”

Namjoo gritted her teeth. Overwhelmed momentarily with regret and anger she laughed and blinked back tears. She had gone through hell for Moowon. Crying with him when he cried as her s ran dry of milk. And she struggled to get formula for him. Diapers ran out, so she sewed up layered clothes and pinned them around her poor son. She had no money for electricity because her check wasn’t enough. She bathed only when she could afford the sauna and took Moowon with her.

“Only when you can have it easy you want to come back,” Namjoo cussed, “ you.”

“I’ll work hard to make it up to you!” Daehwi promised.

“I don’t care!” Namjoo raised her voice. “You made your decision long ago. Don’t come back.”

“I still want to see my son.”

“Not today,” Namjoo determinedly stated. “I’m not in the mood to let you see him.”

“I’m his father!” Daehwi yelled.

“I’m his mother,” Namjoo growled.

Gasping in disbelief, Daehwi turned around into a circle this time. Back to her, “You can’t do this to me.”

“Why not?” Namjoo asked. “I’m the one feeding, clothing, and providing for my son.”

“I will! I will, too!” Daehwi said.

“You’re lying.”

“Namjoo,” his tone softened. He reached forward to touch her arm. Namjoo violently drew her arm back.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned.

He sighed heavily then reached into his jean jacket and pulled out a white envelope. It was thick. With money. Grabbing her hand, he placed the envelope into her palm. “I only came for this. I was hoping we could talk things out and that I could hug my son before he went to sleep. Take it. It’s the two grand I owe you. I was seriously saving up. I’ve really found a good job now, Namjoo.” A moment of silence sank in. She refused to be touched. Then his quiet, remorseful voice, “Go back inside.”

His footsteps faded down the stairs. The door opened and closed. Namjoo all but stared at the thick envelope in her hand. Cash. Dazed. Stunned, because this had never happened before.

Her ex-lover who had dumped her for a better life and had fallen from it was actually working hard now.

He wanted back?

So easily?

Namjoo couldn’t accept this.

Not so simply.

Squeezing the envelope into her hand she made a mad dash down the rest of the stairs. Shoving open the bottom door that led to the lobby. She spun around toward the front doors. Surprised when she stepped into the freezing rain.

Dark had fallen. Headlights glowed everywhere around her. Namjoo ran toward the street. Daehwi couldn’t have grabbed a taxi so fast. Passing a row of shrubs, she ran north toward the smaller towers. Turning right and left in her search.

The love of her life, who she always cursed out of spite. Was suddenly making her the guilty party. She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow this.

Namjoo still needed to step on him some more. For trampling on her hopes, her love for him, making her come this far. She needed to punish him some more.

Panting as she turned the corner she spotted Daehwi’s back slowly walking down the empty street.

“Han Daehwi!” she screamed. The rain splattered noisily. Running down her clothes into the folds of her skin. Seeping through every inch, every corner like the knife he plunged into her every time she thought of him.

So cold, cold, cold.

Increasing her pace, she ran a little then slowed upon her approach. “Take it back,” she shoved the money into his chest when he turned. “I don’t want it.”

“It’s not for you,” he said. “It’s for our son.”

“You left him.”

“I came back.” He said then corrected himself, “I’ll be coming back.”

“No.” Namjoo breathed. “Stay away.”

“You’re both mine,” Daehwi told. “I’ll make it be that way.”

Namjoo shoved him again with the money. He stumbled half a step back. “Take it!”

“Go home, Namjoo,” Daehwi directed.

“You abandoned us!” Namjoo yelled the aching reminder. “You put us through hell, and you think you can tell me what to do?”

“What are you angry about?” Daehwi asked. “I left her three years ago when you asked for child support. She wasn’t interested in a man with a family hanging off him.”

“Family,” Namjoo repeated then laughed because she didn’t know if she was crying or angered hearing the word come from his mouth. “But you left that family. How can you have a family?”

“Go home,” he repeated more gently. Touching the hand grasping the money he pushed it toward her chest.

Like that he turned to leave her like he always did. Squeezing the money into her hand Namjoo stood there. Regretful she hadn’t slapped him, told him off. She hadn’t said never to come back again.

She wanted to tell him she hated him, but deep within her heart she couldn’t make him go.

He was Moowon’s father.  

“You piece of !” Namjoo screamed in her spout of anger. in the moment of fury, she took her shoe off and tossed it at him. The shoe missed him by a foot, doing a graceful arc then landing with a loud splash.

“You think I’ll forgive you just like that?! Go to hell! I never want to see you again! You jerk! You !” Namjoo screamed from the top of her lungs then panted angrily. She was a boiling mess threatening to explode on the spot. She would scream all night if she could make him come back just so she could slap him, pound her fists into his chest.

Silence grew. The rain splattered all around her more loudly. She tried not to cry because Daehwi always made her so sorry for herself, her son.

Walking forward pitifully she picked up her shoe. Didn’t put it on but gripped it in her hand. She wanted to hit something. Seeing him always brought out the worst in her and she was ashamed for letting him get to her.

Breathing heavily Namjoo stared down the empty road feeling like she was left with nothing, again. She was cold, but it felt more comforting than knowing that Daehwi had left her behind.

Where had he gone now? Did he have a home like hers? Or was he scavenging day by day?

She despised him with all her guts yet at the same time she worried if he had a warm blanket waiting for him. She recalled brewing warm tea for him whenever he felt shivers. They’d snuggle up under a blanket too small for two people. Namjoo never looked forward to sick Daehwi but she secretly enjoyed sharing the body heat with him.

He had been a good man. When he loved her, he loved her. But he had cheated on her. He had left her and their son.

That was where it hurt the most.

The betrayal couldn’t be forgotten. It was even worse than not being cared for post-natal. The suffering always felt never-ending. His sudden yearning to return to her was no help in releasing the pain she kept pent up.

The rain stopped momentarily, or so she thought. The dew drops no longer touched her, but it still splattered around her. Then she heard the deep splatters above her head and looked up. She in a breath surprised at the umbrella and whirled around. Thinking for a second Daehwi had come back.

Gripping the raised shoe in her hand she stared at Sehun.

***Sehun meets a potential woman. Namjoo meets her potential past