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Feeling weird sitting alone Namjoo left the table. Venturing into the kitchen to see a pile of dishes taking up space along the counter. The sink water was running. A lady in an apron was washing dishes never minding the strange woman that was walking around. Finding her way back out Namjoo looked down the hallway. Wherever Sehun had disappeared he hadn’t come back from. She couldn’t wait for him just sitting around. Deciding she’d go outside for some air she discovered the back entrance as easily as if she had wished for it.

She smelled fresh air first then noticed the door had been left a crack open. Touching the door, she pulled it open, poking her head out. Seeing first the winding trees, the grass, the spacious land. Noticing the brick walk second as she stepped out. Her eyes floated around mesmerized by the simply decorated yard.

Taken in by the polished wood of the swinging chair. The pots of petunias on either side. Wild bushes flanked the white yard chairs where Seoyun was currently sitting.

“O…oh, sorry,” Namjoo apologized thinking maybe the woman wanted to be alone after her husband declared his selfish wishes.

“No, please stay.” Seoyun called out.

Hesitantly turning around, Namjoo looked at the lonely woman. Taking a step forward she sunk into the swinging chair since it was nearest.

Sehun’s sister-in-law smiled softly, “That’s Sehun’s favorite spot.” Perking up, Namjoo looked down at the chair. The wood was refined down to a perfectly smooth texture. The metal chain was oiled constantly to keep from rusting.

“I heard his mother made it.”

Namjoo’s eyes drifted back up to meet with the woman’s.

Smiling embarrassed this time, she asked, “How is it being married? Is Sehun nice to you?”

“He’s nice.” Namjoo nodded, because she couldn’t say anything else. It was also the plain truth that Sehun hadn’t done anything bad yet.

“That’s good. He better be.”

A moment of silence fluctuated, so Namjoo asked, “Out of curiosity, why are you still married to Sehun’s brother?”

“I love him.”

“The man you married or the man now?” Namjoo asked.

Seoyun seemed taken aback. Still, she took a breath calmly. “A marriage isn’t always smooth sailing. There are rocks in the road, but if I don’t continue to give my best, what did I get married for?”

Namjoo blinked. “Did he tell you what he was going to talk about today?”

She hesitated yet still protected her husband, “If that’s the decision then I should support him.”

Namjoo felt befuddled by her answer. Getting to her feet she asked, “If he doesn’t think about you, what did he get married for?”

When she walked away she didn’t know why she had bothered to talk to the woman. She would never come running at Sehun’s beck and call. How did Seoyun live with a man like Sangki for so long? The arrogant son of a …

Turning down the hallway Namjoo stopped exactly where she had a full view of the two grown men. Wasn’t difficult to see who had the upper hand, really.

Sehun, always calm and collected, seemed to hang there in his older brother’s fierce grip. There were times she’d sensed his irritation with her, but he had never actively shown it. So when, she wondered, was he going to lose it?

No wonder Sangki had a free reign of shoving everyone around.

“Let go of him.” Namjoo ordered.

Their heads turned her way. Without waiting for Sangki to blabber an excuse, she walked forth. Sticking herself between them. Touching Sehun’s shirt, brushing out any wrinkles. Murmuring, “It’s the shirt I bought you.” A blatant lie. “Don’t ruin it already.”

Sehun made no reply.

Moving to his side Namjoo slid her arm around Sehun’s waist. “We’re leaving now.”

Playing along, Sehun put his arm around her as they turned to go. She hadn’t been so glued to him before. This close she recognized the strength of his arms. The slight bulge of his biceps. The tandem of his heartbeat pumping warmth through his body. A blank sheet zipped through her mind. Part of her finding euphoria in the comfort of being held. It was the strangest and newest sensation she was experiencing. Had ever.

Out the front doors he let go of her. Withdrawing her arm Namjoo rubbed her elbow consciously. Suddenly feeling , like her emotions were tearing through. Uncomfortable, she hurried down the steps. On the drive home she stared out the window the entire way.

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At dinner Sehun took a peek at Namjoo then focused on his plate.

“My pretty sister-in-law.” Sangki had crooned teasingly. Sehun hadn’t liked the tone he’d used.

“Lets switch our wives.”

Sehun glanced up at Namjoo again. Catching him this time she glanced back. “What?”

“Nothing.” He said. He didn’t want to tell her the inappropriate things Sangki had said about her. How would that make her feel?

A moment of quiet fell in.

“You brought the tonics in.” Namjoo spoke up.

He glanced at the countertop where the box sat. He had lugged it in when they returned home. Namjoo had grown quiet, walking inside without waiting for him.

“You don’t have to drink them.” He poked at his food.

“Then why bring it in?”

“I can sell it online.”

Namjoo scoffed, maybe it was a laugh, but it was the first he heard from her.

After washing up that evening he sat down on his bed. Not feeling too bad. Maybe slipping toward the edge of contentment. The emotional scale didn’t exceed happiness, but he wasn’t really feeling like today had been wasted.

He glanced around the simple room. He didn’t keep pictures. Their wedding portrait – a picture they’d been forced to take – hung on the wall at the end of the hallway. Accessories, clothes, and his choices of cologne were organized in his walk-in closet. Nothing for the eye to wander over except for the alarm clock on the bedside table. Where he spotted the bundle of hair clips he’d taken out of Namjoo’s hair the previous week.

Swiping them off the table he marched toward Namjoo’s room. Finding the door ajar. Slowly pushing it open he spotted a glass of water on the table by the bed, Namjoo at the side fluffing up her pillow. A quarter of her blanket touched the ground. It looked like she’d changed the sheets and was putting everything back. She didn’t notice him.

She was in lounge shorts that seemed to make her legs run forever. A comfortable t-shirt. Her hair hung down her back loosely.

None of it really accentuating her figure, but she was slim. Looked tiny from where he was. His eyes ran over her legs to where the hem of her shorts ended at her upper thighs as the thick sensation enveloped his chest. The hard thud of his heart made him more conscious of himself when his eyes continued to travel up to her hips.

Sensing a presence Namjoo glanced over her shoulder. Gasping surprised when she saw him. “Oh God,” she breathed. “What are you doing there?”

“Oh…uh…I…um…” he stammered unable to coherently think. Blinking rapidly, flustered. Stepping in he held his hand out to show her the pins. “Um…these…yours.”

Suddenly it was scorching hot like he was standing right under the beating sun. A blaze of electricity zapped him as her fingers grazed his palm when she took the pins out of his hand.

“Right,” she said looking at him with her big bug eyes.

Wary that he was starting to appear strange he excused himself. “Then I’m leaving.” He nearly walked into the threshold on his way out. Abruptly halting he backtracked before hurriedly escaping.

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Namjoo stared after him. Taking a step toward the door she poked her head out to see Sehun disappearing down the hall. Slightly amused by him she gripped the hair pins in her hand and closed the door.

By morning Sehun was gone for work. She had breakfast with him and lingered around the home. Hopping onto the computer to order a stereo set which she planned to install on the third floor. On cold winter days she planned to lay around on her chair in the sunlight. The thought of peace washed over her at the imagined picture. Another set of furniture would fit the bill. Maybe a futon that could be converted into a couch. Namjoo debated before lunchtime and returned to online shopping afterward.

Checking the time because she was bored. These days she would need something to do to keep her time. She wasn’t a reader nor was she fond of going to the mall to gossip with other married ladies. None of them were her friends. More like women who gossiped about her atrocious attitude – cakey ladies from Hea’s mother’s gang. It occurred to her she could go out to meet Eunwoo, but strangely she had a feeling Sehun wouldn’t approve. Before they got married he had jarred every moment she’d had with her friend.

Setting the laptop aside Namjoo turned the television on. Laid across the sofa with one of the couch pillows in her arms. Blandly keeping her eyes on the screen. After an hour she started dozing off.

Trapped in a weird time slip she slid in and out of what felt like a lucid dream. She was floating, and at the same time strangely aroused. A winding minute passed, her brows twitched as she struggled to wake. Was Sehun home? Was he waking her for dinner?

A graze of teasing fingers traced down her back making her body dip into the couch. She could feel her self-conscious struggling to swim up for air. Smelling the scent of a man nearby. Sehun? She was confused.

Finally, her fingers twitched. Her eyes popped open. Namjoo scrambled up to sit as the couch pillow dropped to the floor. Pressing her back into the arm of the couch she stared wide-eyed at Sehun’s older brother.

“You looked so comfortable I didn’t want to wake you.” He leaned his head into his palm.

Namjoo in a breath. In effect, her heart hammered into her ribs. Every earlier emotion washed away. Steering the lingering fear creeping up her spine away she stood to maintain her ground.

“How’d you get in?”

“One of the ladies opened the door for me.”

Ok, that was a dumb question. Rephrasing herself, she asked, “Why are you here?”

Namjoo didn’t mean to, but she stepped back when he rose to standing. Colliding into the coffee table and nearly falling. Regaining her balance, she took another cautious step backwards. She really shouldn’t have. Doing it made her look scared in front of him. Namjoo didn’t want to be the weak woman.

She was tough.

She was strong.

But her heart still felt like a sledge hammer about to break through her ribs

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sangki wondered.

“I’m not looking like anything.” She steely told.

“I just want to talk business.”

“I don’t have anything to talk about with you,” Namjoo coldly said, “so you should go.”

Curling her toes, she forced herself to remain still when he took a long stride toward her. The way he moved exuded pure confidence. An aura of power lit up in his steps.

Surely he was fit. Tall. His button-down hugged his chiseled body perfectly. Namjoo could stare him down, but instead tilted her head back to look into his eyes.

“May I enlighten you, that we made a deal.”

“There is no deal,” Namjoo blatantly spat. “You lied.”

“What about?” Sangki raised a brow. “The part about her blue-collar family? That your mother used to work in your father’s company?”

Biting down on her teeth, Namjoo refused to acknowledge he may have told her some truth. “There was no affair.”

“Ah…” he nodded, “I may have been wrong.”

“I owe you nothing,” she slowly spat each word. “So, leave.”

“No,” Sangki refused. Pending anger surged in her chest.

“You’re not worth my energy, so I’m not going to talk with you.” Namjoo turned to make her exit, but he circled her. Smiling coyly, like he was having the time of his life. Forced to a halt Namjoo glared at him.

He held a finger in front of her face. “I’m not done yet.”

“Well, I am.” She took a sidestep. Sangki stretched his arm out to catch her. Felt his palm on her back. With no discretion his hand inched up toward her bra. Sliding through the gap of her arm he touched the side of her .

Namjoo slapped him. And not lightly either. She was flummoxed by a grand scale of emotions. Being violated, anger, of disgust. A grunt of pain shot through when he fisted her hair snapping her head back.

“You owe me, and you’ll give it to me,” Sangki growled.

Then it happened so fast all Namjoo registered was a blur of color, a crash, and a growl as if the wind itself had burst into the house. The previous emotions overrode her as she turned to see younger brother pinning older brother into the wall. Blitzed with shock Namjoo didn’t know how to react. So suddenly it was like she was in a spinning tornado.

“Sehun,” Sangki nervously said.

Fastening his grip on Sangki’s shirt, Sehun’s eyes bore holes into his face. “I told you.”

Sangki looked like a frightened mouse staring into the fangs of a yawning snake. “Ok. I’m sorry. Can you…”

A moment too late Namjoo realized why. Sehun was literally squeezing the collar of his shirt around his throat, choking him.

opened. To say something.

Anything.

Except she didn’t say anything.

Pulling him forward Sehun shoved him back into the wall so hard Sangki heaved a grunt from deep in his chest.

“If you touch her one more time, I will end you.” She heard her husband hiss. Releasing Sangki with intensity Sehun’s arms dropped to his sides. Standing with his back to her silently. Darkness oozed off him like molting lava.

Sternly staring his brother down Sangki pulled his shirt down. The fiery gaze passing over his shoulder toward her then with a huff to walk out. The erratic beating of Namjoo’s heart picked up at the slam of the door.

She didn’t know. Really had no clue how to approach Sehun.

Awkwardly indulged with guilt. Everything had slammed down on her so fast. She hadn’t known Sehun had returned.

Had he seen everything?

Namjoo’s head turned as Sehun walked away. Not one glance at her. Not asking if she was ok. Clouded by a sort of disappointment, Namjoo took a small step forward. Glancing down when something cracked underneath her feet.

The empty porcelain vase that sat on the small table between the furniture was shattered. The small four-legged table toppled like an old artifact. It must have been knocked over when Sehun rammed Sangki into the wall.

Kneeling, Namjoo started gathering the broken pieces. And like that it began sinking in faster.

She had been scared. Sangki had touched her in a way he shouldn’t have. She hadn’t invited it or enjoyed it. Perhaps for the first time in her life she felt dirty, as if someone had reached their hand inside her mind. Stole something significant from her.

But…

Sehun had come home in time.

Namjoo had never been so full on relief before.

She tossed the shards away and had to ask one of the housekeepers for the vacuum. That was the first chore she did since moving.

Namjoo up righted the table and returned the vacuum to the closet. Then she stood in the same spot again. Staring at the wall Sehun had held Sangki prisoner. Glancing toward the stairs she pondered before slowly treading the stairs.

At the top she stared down the hallway that seemed much larger than usual. The dark wooden boards contrasting with the egg white walls. At the very end hung their wedding portrait. The classic pose of bride and groom standing together, side by side. The trail of her dress flowing around her feet next to Sehun’s shiny black dress shoes. Smile they’d been told. They’d tried, but their faces came flat out bleak. Lips so thin like they’d just argued.

In reality Sehun was not so bleak.

Steadily taking a step forward Namjoo decreased the space between her and the master bedroom. Just yesterday she had wondered if Sehun could ever lose his temper. No man was an angel. At least not any that existed in her life. No male had made her comfortable in his presence. All of them undeserving of her.

Or so she thought.

Perhaps word was true.

Someone was always different.

And that was how a story came to be born.

Sehun’s door was closed. Namjoo tried the knob anyway. It turned. Sehun came into view as the door opened. Sitting at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Raising his head to look at her in his doorway again.

***omgomgomg Namjoo actually lifted her hands to clean