Those big brown eyes of hers rounded significantly. Looking at him more with wonder than animosity.

His heart raced. He trudged on. “I won’t lock the door, so I’ll wait for you.”

Namjoo didn’t answer him, but he waited when they split up after dinner. Sitting at the edge of the bed. Wondering if the door would open at all.

He didn’t expect much. Yet he hoped that Namjoo wanted to give their marriage a chance despite the failings of their luck. If they could have nothing at all, at least they could have a good handle in their marriage.

Sehun waited a bit more then turned the lights off and lay in bed staring at his empty bedside.

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Sitting in bed Namjoo hugged the blanket up to her chest. Not sure what to think, how to react. Wishing there was someone to show her the way. She couldn’t sort out anything in her head. The feelings that didn’t really feel like her feelings.

Was Sehun really waiting?

Namjoo tucked her knees up higher toward her chest. Feeling more lost than ever. This thing that should be anger wasn’t really anger. She should be hating Sehun.

But…she didn’t feel a dark thing for him.

Not even after he got her to sleep with him. Through the dark Namjoo glanced in the direction of her garbage can. Thinking about the pills she had tossed. Bundling the blanket into her hand she buried her face into her knees.

She really didn’t know what to do anymore.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

At the breakfast table the next morning Namjoo tried not to look up when Sehun came down to eat. She stirred the food on her plate. Confused if she should feel guilty for not going to him. He didn’t say anything, but ate and left like he always did.

Namjoo cleared the table, helped with the dishes, and went dusting around the house. Taking her time going from room to room. Puffing the pillows, remaking the beds, rearranging the lamps on the bedside tables because there was nothing else to do. Then she took a break for lunch. Ate on the back porch while staring into the wilderness. Watching the wind blow through the grass. After putting her dishes away she resumed work.

Reaching the master bedroom an hour later. Hesitating outside the door. Twisting the knob she peeked inside. Sehun still kept minimal things around. There was no pictures sitting around. Not even one of his mother. Everything was same as when she’d been here a few days ago.

Peering at the bed Namjoo wondered if he slept on one side always or did he move around? She hesitated before running her fingers across his pillow. Withdrawing her hand the next second and coiled her fingers up.

Swiveling around she closed the door and hurried down the hall with her heart rumbling and tumbling.

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Dinner was set when he arrived home. He wanted to take his time, but his legs were moving at their own quick pace. He thought about Namjoo, wondered what she did today. The kitchen lady was wearing a new apron. Namjoo had one on, too. She’d also tied her hair up during the day. She was on standby watching the elder woman pour food onto a big oval plate when he walked up to the dining table.

“And there you go.” The elder woman lifted the plate into her hands. “Now go on. He’s here.”

Namjoo turned to see him. He should have looked away, but he didn’t. If possible he thought she was getting a lot prettier. There was a sudden urge to run his hand through the silk of her hair.

“Don’t just stand there and stare,” the elder woman chided. Untying Namjoo’s apron, she told him, “Sit down.” Patting Namjoo’s shoulder, “That’s the last of it. I know you did a lot today, so go rest and don’t worry about the dishes.”

Unhooking the apron from around her neck the woman urged her forward. Sehun glanced at the steaming pot of stir fry when Namjoo walked over. Sitting down when she did. Her eyes jot all over the place as she picked up her utensils.

Sehun focused on filling his empty plate. Looking up to see Namjoo scooping food into . Instinctively, he drew his lips together. Recalling the warmth of her kiss. Then dejected the thought. There was no reason to get ahead of himself for no reason. He looked up again anyway. To admire the view of her.

That night, he took a long shower to cleanse his thoughts. Told himself not to put his hopes up when he stepped out to an empty room. Tossing his damp towel aside he walked over to check on the doorknob. It was unlocked. Twisted and turned well.

For a minute he stood in front of the door. Staring at the golden handle. Flicking the lights off he climbed into bed. Closed his eyes. Imagined the tick tock of the clock as he waited for sleep. Sehun was sure he was there when the doorknob finally turned with a click.

First his head swiveled. Second he pushed himself up. Staring. Waiting. The door caked open a little wider. Namjoo stepped into the room. Filled up the doorway. Leaned into the threshold rubbing an arm.

Sehun blinked. Heart racing when she closed the door behind her. “Can we not make this awkward?”

“Oh…” he breathed, eyes following when she finally walked around the bed. Felt her weight press down the mattress as she climbed in beside him. Butterflies shot to life when her head hit the pillow beside him. He was stricken. More than he expected. Self-conscious. Totally aware.

“Unless I touch you first, don’t touch me.”

His eyes darted in her direction. Trying to suppress the sudden smile. “Ok.”

The hour waned, the moon stayed aglow over them. When he awoke in the middle of the night wondering if he’d had some kind of dream he turned to find Namjoo really asleep. There. Next to him. With her head slightly twisted.

Cautiously shifting onto his side he watched her. Profoundly amazed by her decision to come. He really thought it would take a week.

Despite what Namjoo had asked he reached over to fix the position of her head. Tucking his hand under his pillow he watched a while more before turning onto his back and closed his eyes.

Namjoo was gone by the time he woke up.

After washing up he headed downstairs to find her in the kitchen with the kitchen lady and her daughter. Their aprons looked very similar to one another’s.

“Good morning, sir,” Hyesoo walked over with a couple of plates and utensils to start setting the table.

“Your apron looks nice.” He commented.

“Oh, this?” She touched the material. Grinning, “The madam went out and bought them yesterday.”

“It’s pretty,” he smiled.

“She’s actually really kind,” Hyesoo said. Gladly adding, “I like her.”

“I know.” He continued smiling. He glanced past her to see Namjoo never minding him as she went about her task by the stove. It seemed she was starting to become more comfortable these days.

They ate like usual. As Namjoo started gathering the dishes after they finished eating he stood behind his chair like a slobbering idiot. Hesitating. When Namjoo looked up he thought he should have just left.

“What?” she asked.

“Just…” he started with lack of determination wondering why he was being like this after actually hoping she’d come sleep in his room.

Her eyes remained steady on him. Making him actually nervous.

“Have a good day,” he pushed the words out. He didn’t wait to see her stare at him blankly or maybe tell him to have a good day, too as he turned to escape the thick feeling starting to sprout through his being. Shaking him up.

Sehun burst through the front door breathing more heavily than anticipated. Running down the steps without pausing, as if he might be able to outrun the emotions. Catching his breath as he walked toward his car he turned around to stare at the house. Breathing a smile.

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It was stupid, but Namjoo felt herself grow smaller. What a dumb thing to grow shy over.

Stupid. Stupid.

Gripping onto the plate in her hand harder than necessary, Namjoo stared at the empty doorway where Sehun had been standing just moments ago.

“That’s sweet of him.” Auntie Park walked up behind her. Placed a hand on her shoulder. “Aren’t you two quite the lovebirds.”

Heating up, Namjoo quickly shuffled toward the sink. “It’s not like that.”

The elder woman coyly smiled. Namjoo felt it through her back. “You’re newlyweds. What’s there to be ashamed of?” Walking up to her the woman with a nudge. “He’s a handsome man. You’re a pretty woman. What’s there not to like about each other?”

Namjoo felt her cheeks burn. She wanted to slap herself.

Peering over her shoulder into her face, Auntie Park said, “Love is a special thing.” Walking away she sing-songed, “But only the lucky ones truly find it.”

Namjoo’s eyes burned into the faucet. Out of frustration she turned the water on and started furiously scrubbing the plates.

She spent the day doing her laundry. Fussing with the washing machine and then laying out in the sun while waiting for her clothes to finish. Although she debated, drawled over her decision and many hesitations, she did start sleeping in the master bedroom. Had to yet still cram any of her belongings with Sehun’s. It felt too intimate to have their things together, so she left them in her old room.

A few quiet weeks breezed in like that. And then she missed her period.

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“Eat up a lot,” Sehun’s father urged. He had really wanted to see them. Had even gone as far as to call her, ask if she and Sehun could stop by for dinner. It’s been too long since the family got together. Namjoo wasn’t keen on it, but the pressure to say yes surmounted when he started onto a story about Sehun and his mother. So here they were; having dinner with Sangki, Seoyun, and his father.

Stress, Namjoo blamed. It must be stress that delayed her period.

“Sehun, give some of the baked oysters to her.” his father ordered. Saying to her with a happy grin, “They’re fresh and healthy. Enjoy them.”

Namjoo watched Sehun reach over to do as told. Four, five shells landed on her full plate. She didn’t think she could stomach any more. Two bites of her plate and she had stopped eating. no longer wanted to open.

“What’s wrong, Namjoo?” Sangki seemed to mock. “No appetite?”

Gripping onto her spoon, Namjoo glanced at him through her narrowed lids.

“Is the food overcooked?” Seoyun worried.

“Have you gone to the doctor?” Sehun’s father asked. Talking to his son rather than her, “Is there news yet?”

It felt stuffy even sitting there with his family. Namjoo stared at the pile of food on her plate. The thickness in her chest bubbled. Thought about the night in the cabin. Her late period. The plan B pills in the garbage. About scooping up spoonful after spoonful, inhaling the food and swallowing. Her stomach rolled in discomfort.

“No.” Sehun answered.

Talks about a baby again. They’d dumped half of the herbal tonics so far. Sometimes Sehun did it. If she woke up before him she took over the task.

“Why?” his father wondered. “Do we need to visit the doctor? What if something is wrong?”

She heard Sangki breathe a quiet laugh. Seoyun froze into an ice sculpture. Her expression flushed with shame. Namjoo’s chest tightened.

“Dad,” Sehun called out defensive.

“We have to get her checked up. It’s been three months going four. We have to be careful.” His father lectured. “We can’t have another mistake.”

Everyone turned to look at her when she threw down her spoon. Expecting her to snap, give Oh Shiwoo a piece of her mind like she gave everyone else. Instead, Namjoo hurled up from her chair and ran down the hall as acid threatened to pour out of .

Heaving down the hallway. Blocking with a hand. Forcing it back down, but the pressure was overwhelming. She reached the toilet in time. Coughing as it burned . Splattered into the toilet water. Grabbing a roll of toilet paper Namjoo wiped . The emptiness was so raw in her stomach she wanted to coil up on the floor. She still felt nauseous. A little dizzy.

Flushing the toilet she moved over to the sink. Washed her hands with soap then rinsed . When she straightened she saw Sehun’s reflection behind her through the mirror.

Stress she thought.

Wiping with the back of her hand she averted her eyes. “I want to go home.”

Without probing, he simply promised, “Ok.”

Sehun waited for her to leave the bathroom then followed. Further down the hall they spotted Sangki leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Perhaps trying to see if they were putting on an act. Decreasing her pace she waited for Sehun to catch up then wrapped her hands around his arm to be pretentious. Obviously aware that he couldn’t touch her if Sehun was here.

“Feigning sickness, dear sister-in-law?” Sangki teased. “We don’t get to see each other very often. It’s unfortunate you’d want to leave so soon.”

“Why’d you leave the table?” Sehun asked.

“I was worried,” Sangki brashly said, “whether my sister-in-law is really sick?”

“We’re leaving.” Sehun cut the conversation short and pulled her with him back into the dining room.

“What was that?” his father questioned. “What is going on?”

“Namjoo is unwell, so we’re going to go,” Sehun announced.

“What?” he reproved. “We haven’t finished.”

 “Next time.” Sehun excused. “We’re leaving first.”

Namjoo thought about offering an apology, but in the end she didn’t. She let Sehun wheel her around and they headed toward his car.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

“Could you make some porridge?” Sehun asked after searching for the kitchen lady and finally finding her in the pantry.

Stepping out from between the shelves of dry food she leaned back to look at him. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“It’s for Namjoo. I think she’s sick and she hasn’t eaten anything,” he told. At this the lady dropped whatever she’d been organizing. Grasping her long skirt she hopped out from behind the small table. Slightly shoving him as she hurried out.

“Why didn’t you say so?” she chided walking into the kitchen. “Is she having a fever?”

“I’m not sure.”

She scowled at him. Pulled open a drawer with short grains of rice. “Why, that’s unfortunate.” Filling a pot with water she set it on the stove.

When she realized that he hadn’t left she frowned. “Do you need something else?”

Shaking his head abashed, “No.” Growing timid he told, “I just want to see how you make it.”

A smile sprouted across her lips as she scoffed at him the way a mother would when her child admitted a secret she’d known all along. “A good husband needs to know how to take care of his wife.”

Feeling shy he said nothing. He was trying. To make things better, so that life was a little more worth it.

“There’s a cup in the drawer. A cup is all you need for one person. It’s enough for two small meals,” the kitchen lady explained. “You can add a pinch of salt after it’s cooked, but it doesn’t really need it.”

He nodded.

“When the water begins to boil pour the rice in. Stir, stir, stir until it thickens. Let it boil some more until the rice is soft.”

He blinked. Lost, “What?”

She smugly smiled at him. “So tell me, I noticed the bed in the first room hasn’t been slept in for several weeks.”

Namjoo’s room she meant.

His lips started spreading into a smile. Shy. Happy. It still felt unbelievable that they were sharing a room now. A small thing, but a big step. A reminder that Namjoo didn’t hate him too much.

She giggled and nudged him with the back of her hand. Teasing, “Look at you. It’s what married people do. You two newlyweds act like teenagers.”

The water started boiling, so she poured the rice in and turned the heat down. Looking at him and leaned in. Further teasing, “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

If she would stop he might be able to breathe for a moment. Recollect himself and not look like a seizing idiot. Lowering his eyes as he turned weak to the smile stretching across his face he bit his lower lip.  

After the porridge cooked she handed him a bowl. Told him to pour the porridge in himself saying it would mean much more to his wife if he did it himself. Then dropping some pills in his hand she left him on his own.

Sehun climbed the stairs slowly. Listening to his heart kick inside his chest. The anticipation starting to race through his veins. Walked past the empty room that used to belong to Namjoo then down the corridor. Pushing the bedroom door open he stepped in to find Namjoo curled up under his blanket. She looked small and vulnerable needing protection from the cold world.

“Are you sleeping?” he called out. Namjoo slightly budged then turned. Moving over to sit on her side of the bed he waited for her to sit up. Caught the way the blanket slipped down her small shoulder bundling up at her waist.

“Eat something.” He showed her the bowl of porridge. Opening his palm he also said, “The kitchen lady also helped me find some medicine.”

Namjoo looked away. Her expression was somber. Quietly muttering, “I’m not sick.”

“Eat something anyway,” he urged. When she didn’t make any movement he slightly stirred the porridge and lifted up a spoonful for her. “Here.”

Still focused elsewhere she didn’t move. He didn’t think she would move at all, but then she leaned forward to take the spoonful into . Of all the things that burst in him that moment he wished his heart would be still.