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What the heck? He didn’t understand what Namjoo just did. To be morbid, dark, and bitter was just like Sangki. He was literally the embodiment of all dark forces. Nothing Sehun hadn’t witnessed. He could literally stand in the same spot all day while Sangki ranted everything about his sorry life. Blocking him out was a special ability Sehun had acquired.

He turned when the door opened and Hea stepped out in her pretty yellow dress. Lacing hands at her back she twirled over. Ballet or something. Leaning against the wall and smelling of vanilla, arousing memories of summers on the beach. When his mother used to be well. She’d taught him how to make his first sandcastle.

“I heard,” Hea started, “that Namjoo is supposed to be pregnant.”

Sehun wished he would have left earlier. Followed Namjoo or something.

“But I don’t think Namjoo has a weak body. She’s always so ferocious. Nothing a lady should be,” Hea said. “I’m still surprised you two got married.” Shifting to face him she curiously wondered, “So, how is it living with that girl? I can’t imagine it’d be anything near easy. Namjoo must run a lot. When she lived at home that was all she did.”

When he said nothing she turned into the wall again. “Dad says he hopes you can tame her. That he hopes you two can have a baby and she’ll learn how to grow up, but how is someone like that supposed to grow up, right?” Scoffing, “I doubt you’d want to sleep with her anyway. You would have been better off with me, but then too bad it didn’t happen.”

Sehun turned to look at her. A faint smile across his lips, “Too bad, right?”

A moment of confusion tore down on Hea. It was all he needed as he left her outside.

The elders passed time gnawing on fruit and the tangerine Namjoo’s father brought. He weaved back and forth between them and pretending to oversee dinner. None of which he had any hand in. Kitchen matters weren’t his worries. He walked back and forth, venturing outside when possible.

Spotting a speck in the distance. A colored blob under the scorching sun. Namjoo sleeping or awake. He wouldn’t be able to tell from so far away. She had walked quite a distance to isolate herself. Sehun watched her. Quietly. Wondering if she had a connection to the earth; if peace rolled over her when she was alone.

This far away no one would be able to touch her. Was that her purpose?

“The table is being set,” the door opened.

“I’ll be in,” Sehun told. The door closed and he stared out into the distance. Exhaling he took his first step forward.

Crossing the rolling green to who had become his wife. The open land seemed to stretch forever. Yawning like the open sky endlessly. Nothing but the wind out here. The woods grew thicker around them but remained a distance away.

Sehun kept a constant pace. Not rushing. Until he was a width away from where her head lay. Namjoo’s eyes were closed. Maybe she was dreaming. Of happy times.

“You came far out,” Sehun spoke.

Namjoo’s eyes slowly opened. Revealing she was awake all along. First meeting with the sky. Then to him.

“Come in. Dinner’s ready,” he said.

Pulling herself up with a sigh, Namjoo stood. He watched her come to level with his shoulder. Brushing her knees, her back, her hair. Complaining, “We wouldn’t have to do this if not for them.”

Turning they headed back together. At a steady pace. Not taking wide strides so he wouldn’t be ahead of her. Also because he wasn’t in a hurry to return.

“They should be leaving early morning,” Sehun told. “There’s a business meeting down south.”

“The only good news today.”

He glanced at her. In the que of silence Namjoo curiously looked back. Blinking once he focused his view ahead.

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The dinner table was lively. Even Seoyun was making talk.

“Sehun, we’re throwing a party for your mother’s birthday next weekend,” Namjoo’s father piped up from the head of the table. “Make sure to come. Of course Namjoo, too.”

Ignorance floated off Namjoo like ice. From beside him she continued noisily slurping her soup. Refusing to lift her head up to make noise.

“To show off,” Hea added, “that Namjoo’s got it so well.” Looking at her mom, “Right, mom?”

There was a partial smile that grew across Kim Jiyoo’s plump lips. Instead, Namjoo’s father scolded, “Hea.” Clearing his throat, “Please come. It’ll mean a lot.”

One look out the corner of his eye showed Namjoo wasn’t feigning attention. So as not to be put on the spot, Sehun answered, “Yes.”

Everyone split up after dinner to wash up. Namjoo was first to disappear. He was caught by the top of the stairs. His father’s hand on his arm. “Lets talk, son.”

They moved up to the third-floor deck. An open air space with two dark gray beams holding up the ceiling. Orange brick walls. Golden lights to spark the mood. They’d not yet come up here to explore. Too occupied maintaining their own space in their rooms. Now that he was here Sehun thought he might like to add plush furniture, another television set. Make this a gym area. Run the treadmill while gazing at the landscape. A quick rush of placidity whished over him disappearing the moment he stood shoulder to shoulder with his old man.

“This was Sangki’s house,” his father reminded, “but they’ve yet to have a child.”

His eyes floated to the shiny wooded floors. What had the architect meant for this place to become when he designed it?

“It’s important to have a child carry your name,” the old man turned to look at him. “You need to be a responsible man in order to become the head of the family. Your wife will respect you so will others outside your marriage. I’m doing this for a better future for you. Take the initiative, Sehun, so that your wife will follow you.

“I’ve heard things about Namjoo, but I am certain that once she becomes a mother she will change. So take the lead. Have a child, start your family. Sangki has failed me, don’t let me down.”

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Namjoo was in the shower when Sehun made it to the bedroom. Closing the door. Locking the two of them in for the night. Walking over to lean against the wall beside the bathroom he stared at the empty bed. Namjoo’s clothes were gone leaving his bed bare with a blanket, some pillows.

Strangely, the room grew larger the more he stared at it. When he first got engaged he didn’t see this coming. Thought he’d live quietly whether it was under his father’s roof with Sangki and Seoyun or somewhere else. He’d work, he’d come home. Share a few words with his wife and then repeat everything. Didn’t think a kid would become a factor hanging over their heads. Never thought he and Namjoo would have to start a family immediately.

Maybe time could grow on them or something. It wasn’t something he had thought over, but now he thought that sounded more plausible. Something he should have laid out before they tied the knot.

A week had passed but he barely knew any more about the development of their marriage than he did about his wife. And they were supposed to have a child.

The pressure of being watched made it even harder.

If he wasn’t ready, would Namjoo be any more?

Why did they have to be put in such a ridiculous situation?

Sehun abruptly turned when the bathroom door unlocked and opened. Unexpectedly, he and Namjoo glanced at each other surprised. Her hair was wet. She had his towel in her hand. First and foremost he noticed the water dripping down her neck into her thin cotton shirt. Could see the outline of her bra through it.

Blinking rapidly he looked away. Gulping rather loudly. Feeling shame wash over him the next second.

Sharing the embarrassment Namjoo looked away. Clutching the towel closer to her body. “I took your towel.” She hastily said. “There wasn’t any other.”

“O…oh…” his eyes flittered toward her then away. Feeling like his breathing had suddenly gotten rapid.

Namjoo hesitatingly glanced at him before turning away. The inclination of gravity made him look her way one more time. Then blinking he pressed his lips together. Starting toward the closet he slid it open and grabbed a spare towel from the top shelf. his breath so he wouldn’t have to look her way again he quickly closed the bathroom door. Realizing only then that he was gripping onto the towel harder than necessary.

Eyeing the fresh towel in his hand. She could’ve asked. He’d been using the other one for a few days. Why had she bothered?

When he stepped out Namjoo was already in bed. Miraculously on the side he didn’t sleep on. He wanted to ask if she wanted to use the hair dryer but she looked asleep. Turning the lights off he crept onto his side. Back to her and wide awake.

Listening to his heart pitter patter. Thinking about the tingling sensation passing through his body. Rewinding to the purposeless kiss she’d given him to get rid of Sangki. Did she know, he wondered, that Sangki didn’t like him?

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Awkward. Namjoo swore she’d gone to sleep tense. It had taken a while actually. She’d been listening to the pattern of Sehun’s breathing before finally drifting off. The sun wasn’t yet up when she turned into him. Could still hear his rhythmic breathing through the dark, the warmth of his body as she shifted and awoke.

They had fallen asleep with backs to each other but sleep was a funny thing. Like her he had twisted and turned. The moon shone magnificently into the room through the glass doors leading to the balcony. So bright it could have been the light that was on. A ray of white hue that skimmed over her shoulder and across the mattress. Beside her Sehun was unconscious. Quiet like he always was during the day minus his breathing.

She had gotten a little cold. Maybe that was why she had moved closer. Blinking she stared at Sehun whose head was slightly tilted lowly on his pillow. His neck would hurt when he woke up, but she wouldn’t fix it for him. Wake him up doing it? No way.

Like fingers her eyes ran over the curve of his nose to the slightly parted lips. A flutter passed through her chest. Lying on her back Namjoo stared up at the ceiling. If there was any possible attraction it was because she had no one else in this marriage but Sehun. Like hell she’d let that become her only denominal. Turning away from him she stared out at the vibrant moon.

She didn’t want to be trapped like this forever.

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Everyone finally left after breakfast the next morning. Making sure they were down the drive Namjoo hurried upstairs. Moved her stuff from Sehun’s room back to hers. She didn’t expect his help but she found him in the kitchen when she returned downstairs. On the counter was a stack of the tonic she’d had yesterday. A good 24 packs.

“What are you doing?” Namjoo asked honestly surprised by the sight. On a Sunday she’d expect him to be in his office going over papers or something. Ever the studious person he was. Just her opposite.

“Throwing them out,” Sehun replied without looking her direction. “You don’t need to take them.”

Once more her eyes traveled over to the bundle lying on the counter. Even more surprised. Walking forward she began gathering the pile into her hands and stuffing them back into the fridge.

“The kitchen lady will tell on you if you do it like that,” Namjoo told. Snatching a pack she walked over to the sink and tore it open, squeezing the liquid down the drain. Turning the water on to rinse out the sink she looked at him with a sly smile, “One a day and they won’t notice.”

Dumping the empty package into the garbage she headed out of the kitchen. Glancing back once to see him watching her. Spirits lifted she said, “I’m heading out.”

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“What a creep,” Leah said. They were meeting in front of the bubble tea shop at the mall. Today was her day to run errands. Particularly, grocery shopping which meant she could take her time outside. It was a shift that rotated between the housekeepers at her house and there were a lot of housekeepers. A lot of the ladies took advantage of their time outdoors, because indoors meant devoting their hours to the entire household.

“But,” Leah started, “how old is this guy?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he’s a lot older than your husband,” Leah scratched her chin, “he might know something about when your mom went missing.”

Namjoo felt her brow do a small twitch. “It was an adult trip. He wouldn’t have been on the yacht.”

Leah shrugged, “He could have heard something. She was missing for three days.” Sipping on her bubble tea greedily she gasped when finished. Continued, “What if his father said something? You’ve always wondered, maybe now’s your chance. I mean you’re married to their side.”

“How are you so smart?” Namjoo frowned.

That evening she tapped her finger repeatedly against her chin. Alone at the dinner table because Sehun hadn’t come out of his office yet. Plates were starting to gather at the table. The aroma of each dish tickling her nostrils. Eyes landing on the empty chair in front of her where Sehun would be sitting.

She’d had lunch with Leah. By the time she returned he was already occupied with his work. Locked away in his office. His work didn’t interest her so she didn’t bother him. Now she was waiting for him like a dutiful wife.

Biting the end of her fork Namjoo narrowed her eyes. She’d seen Sangki up close. Those faint lines in his grim face that were yet to show up in Sehun’s had to be a sign. Certainly he was a lot older than Sehun. If she was eight when her mother disappeared Sehun was nine, his brother would have been more mature. Would he have witnessed anything by the time his parents returned from their fateful afternoon trip? Had their faces been haggard with misery? Guilt? What if they had whispered secrets and Sangki heard?

Her eyes rose up when Sehun made his way around the table. Pulled his chair out and sat down. Deftly eyeing him Namjoo chewed on the end of her fork, like a tiger carefully waiting to pounce.

Unaware, Sehun shifted his plate around before slowly looking up. Deciding it was now, Namjoo asked, “Your brother, how old is he?”

“What?” he frowned.

“I’m talking about Sangki,” Namjoo clarified.

He seemed to sigh, “What about him?”

“Is he a lot older than you?”

“Why the question?” Sehun asked.

“How much older?” Namjoo pressed on. “Three? Four? Is it six?”

His frown deepened bringing his brows together. “Why are you asking?”

“I can’t be curious about my own family?” Namjoo wondered. “It’s a simple question.”

His stare lingered trying to figure her out. Continuing to fixate his utensils on his plate he answered, “Four.”

Sangki was 13 years old when her mother went missing before she was pronounced dead. Missing on a couple’s trip. It hadn’t been a rainy day. Namjoo had been home playing like usual. Anticipating the return of her parents because they were supposed to go out for dinner. Namjoo had chosen her frilly dress, was all ready to look pretty for the evening. Wanted to look beautiful like her mother who was always poised with an aura of elegance.

Dad had been working hard, rarely home on time for dinner. That day had been a promise. He’d treat her mother on a trip first then she’d come after. Fine Namjoo had grumbled but she’d been looking forward to the event all day. Dinner with her parents in her pretty dress and her pretty black block heels.

Then it got later, darker. Ominously dark that she had wandered in front of the windows. Waiting. Time seeming to stretch into the forevers. Staring out into the driveway longingly until a beam of headlights finally drove up. Namjoo had rushed to the doors prepared to reprimand her parents. Promises should always be kept she wanted to scorn, but her father was alone. Drenched even when it hadn’t been raining.

“Where’s mommy?” she had asked, her voice tipping on the edge of fear.

He didn’t answer.

Her poor mother’s bloated body was pulled up from the waters three days later. She hadn’t been allowed to go on site. See the retrieval of her mother, see her one last time. She had screeched and screamed at the closed casket funeral. Told that her mother was unrecognizable beyond means, so her father had held her back, arm around her waist.

That was how she’d said goodbye.

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Namjoo jolted awake that night when she thought a greenish-black thing was standing over her bed. Swollen and wrinkly, staring at her with wide bleached eyes. Terror pumped through her heart. Breath hitching Namjoo crawled out of bed fumbling for the door lock with shaky hands.

Part of her brain registering that it was a reoccurring dream as she tripped over her own feet down the hallway. Of her imagination run wild. Of a picture of her mother’s decomposed body. Something that had followed her after her father buried her mother.

If she had just seen her one last time…

If just…

The door was locked. She jiggled it. Anxiety creeped up her spine. Trapped in this dark hallway. Unable to locate the door to escape. Helpless, a whimper escaped as she pressed her palm to the cold barrier. Then it became nothing. Air. Namjoo was touching air.

It took a moment for her to notice the moonlight streaking into the room. The same moonlight she’d seen previously. Her glassy eyes looked up to see Sehun standing in front of her. Fact knocked into her all at once.

A dream.

“I had a nightmare.” Namjoo hung her head.

“Go back to sleep,” her father usually turned her away when she came running for comfort in the middle of the night. The tall man who filled up the doorway. Her father who would stand there until she turned away to retreat to the cold of her room instilled with the horror that had woke her.

Sehun’s hand dropped from the door. Namjoo waited a beat before scurrying in and climbed under his blanket.