“What are you doing up here?” she snapped. Also anxious if he’d seen her vulnerable state.

“They want you down for lunch,” he emotionlessly said.

Biting down on her teeth, Namjoo stepped out closing the door behind her. Again, without waiting for him she went down the stairs.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Of course, they sat across from each other at the dining table. It was an obvious given. Hea sat beside Namjoo with her mother on the other side. Lunch started on a rather silent note. With forks and spoons clinking against precious ceramic dishes. The men murmured something about business or a golf course meeting. Namjoo rarely looked up from her plate of food. The women beside her were snickering about dress fitting.

Sehun met Hea three times. The first was when he was called to dinner with his father. Surprise, you are getting engaged he was told. To Kim Bonhwa’s younger daughter. She’s a marvelous lady, very pretty, you’ll be satisfied his father promised. Hea was 9 years younger than him, which not only made him feel like a creep but an adult staring down a child. Even if she was a good 22 years old, it was weird for Sehun all around.

Sure, the young thing was femininely pretty. Carried herself with pride and dignity. Whenever Sehun saw her she was still a child regardless. Nine years the difference screamed.

“Look, son, I’m sorry, but plans have changed.” His father apologized one day.

Hea had withdrawn her part to the engagement. Good, Sehun thought. He didn’t have to bring it up to the old man first.

“You’ll be marrying the older daughter.”

The thing with his father was that he wanted an heir. Someone in the family who could inherit what the previous family left behind. The effort, the backbreaking money had to stay in the family out of greed’s hands. It was important. Sangki had failed his duty, so it was on him. Everything was on him.

The good son who would not disappoint his ailing mother and working father.

“Do it for your mom, let her see you live your life fully before she goes,” his father always patted his back.

Do it for your mom.

Do it for your mom.

Sehun hadn’t gone to see the woman in over three weeks. Each time he went he just sat beside the hospital bed listening to the hospital monitors speak to him. While his mother slept the day away, unresponsive and uncaring.

If it weren’t for his mother, he wouldn’t have to bow to his father. His father wouldn’t have to use the lame excuse to weaken his resolve each time. That you are my son, you must do this for your mother. In literal words: this is how you will love her by marrying my best friend’s daughter.

“What?” Sehun perked up when he heard his name.

His father glanced at him, repeating, “I said, you’ll go meet with the wedding planner after this.”

“Take Namjoo with you,” her father added.

“I have a car,” Namjoo interrupted.

“Carpooling is in these days, don’t you know Namjoo?” Hea piped up. “Save the earth and go on a romantic drive, why don’t you?” Looking at Sehun she giggled, “Namjoo doesn’t know how to be romantic. There’s no sweet bone in her body.”

“Shh!” her mother pinched her arm.

“Mom!” Her daughter whined.

“Yes, go on a drive. As a couple you should be spending more time together,” Jiyoo urged then cut Namjoo a glass-like stare, “and not sneak out at odd hours to do who knows what.”

Namjoo’s father coughed into his hand to interrupt them all. “Yes, it’s a good idea. Sehun drove here, so take his car.”

Namjoo didn’t hide her eyeroll as she looked away from all of them.

“Yes, sir.” Sehun nodded and received a gentle smack on the arm from his dad.

“Call him father from now on,” his dad encouraged.

The word was so foreign to his tongue as he forced the word out, “Yes, father.” And listened to the two men laugh among themselves joyously. The food he’d eaten turned bitter in his stomach, as if he’d just drank really bad medicine.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Namjoo was taking her sweet time changing, so Sehun was left alone to wait for her outside by his car. Staring around at the shaven grass, the garage, the woods in the distance. Smelling the earth and fresh air. Regretting he didn’t get in his car sooner when Hea walked out of the front doors.

“Namjoo is slow, isn’t she?” Hea walked toward him. “Forgive her. She doesn’t know how to think about anyone but herself.”

He made no remark.

“So,” Hea crossed her arms, “do you like her? You’re getting married in a month. Are you even excited? Seeing that it’s Namjoo, you must not be. Even I find her aggravating.”

Sehun continued to stare at her with no comment to spare. He could say he was less impressed than surprised by Hea. They turned at the sound of footsteps. Discovered Namjoo on the stairs staring at them.

“Speaking of the devil,” Hea chirped.

Namjoo’s eyes trailed her way as she walked toward Sehun’s car. Grabbed the door handle to find it locked. She shot him a look of irritancy.

“It was good catching up with you,” Hea said as he unlocked the door.

“Sure,” he said before slipping into his seat, locked the car, and reversed out of the driveway.

Namjoo stared at her phone during the entirety of the ride. Not even curious about what kinds of things Hea had said about her. By now, Sehun supposed he wasn’t very surprised. The girls didn’t share a mother, so there had to be some animosity there. If Namjoo was happy to be leaving that house she didn’t show it. Maybe he identified with her that way. He was moving out of his house too and he didn’t have much to say about it.

They reached the wedding hall where the wedding planner was waiting for them out front. In a clad business suit. All so formal with a binder in hand and hair tucked back with a pin. She greeted them with a big smile and led them inside. Perhaps wondering why they weren’t holding hands or as cheery as she.

Standing a width apart he and Namjoo listened to her tell them about the platform, detail the flower arrangements, table décor all the way down to the lighting. Food would be catered by five-star international chefs. Why they were even going all out for a wedding ceremony they had no say in, he wasn’t sure. He felt like a leaf floating in a river’s currents peacefully then unexpectedly merging into the rapids, dipping and coming back up. Unable to control his life’s directions.

“Yes, thanks,” Namjoo said. Touching his arm she called, “Sehun.”

“Huh? Yes?” Returning to attention he looked around then at Namjoo who gestured toward the wedding planner.

“Do you have any questions?” the lady inquired.

“No. Not at all,” Sehun shook his head.

They shook hands, bid the routine farewell, and watched the lady drive away from the stoic brick building. The wind was billowing today. The sun half out, half hidden behind clear cast clouds. Hiding them in its shadows before drifting on its way. This was life many people called it. To him, he felt nothing. Like preparing to get married was an every day event. Kind of like doing homework every night. Just something to do.

What kinds of emotions processed through a person's mind, heart, and body before they got married? Certainly, it was not the robotic emptiness he felt.

“Are you going to unlock your car?” Namjoo’s crude voice popped into his dazed world. He turned to find her staring at him with pinched eyes. Impatient, irate. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. Obediently he pressed the remote to unlock the car. Received one last glare from her before stepping down from the sidewalk and yank the door open, shutting it with a trepidation of sorts. Again, nothing he hadn’t gotten from her before.

When told the engagement to Hea was off he was indeed glad, but even when he met Namjoo he couldn’t conjure any feelings for her. His situation, he realized, hadn’t truly gotten any better or worse. Still the same thing with a girl he didn’t know.

“Just wait until you get married, Sehun. We’ll see how upstanding you can still be.”

He could still hear Sangki’s mockery in his head. His older brother was a mess. The kind of son his father constantly picked up after. The kind of son Sehun was not like but could not bury the fact that they shared the same blood, which all but meant they could be the same.

Sehun didn’t want to be like his older brother. He didn’t want a wonderful marriage that turned into the dumps. He didn’t want to become the piece of garbage his brother had become to his woman. And he was afraid, what if it happened? What if he became another Sangki? Even if he and Namjoo did not have an ounce of feeling for one another, he did not want to become a piece of garbage.

His thoughts deferred when Namjoo blasted the horn to get his attention. She stared at him from inside the car more irritably than earlier.

“The wedding planner is gone. Quit your act,” Namjoo scorned. Leaning back into her seat when he started the engine, she zipped the seatbelt over herself with vengeance. Ordering, “Take me back home.”

“No.”

Her head snapped to the side to stare at him. Spitting, “What?”

“Dear wife,” he intentionally called because he knew it would tick her off even more, “to be, I’m sure you heard dinner is destined for us tonight.”

Noticing the way Namjoo clamped down on her jaw increased his flat smile.

“Before we spend the rest of our lives eating together every day,” Sehun continued morbidly, “lets have a preview of what it’d be like. So,” he slowly reversed out of the parking lot, “lets go to my house.”

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Sehun left her behind when he sped up to his house drastically fast, braked so hard she nearly slammed into the dashboard if it weren’t for the seatbelt.

!

Huffing underneath her breath she cursed him as he stalked up the ornate staircase into the towering mansion, hands in pockets just like the jerk he was. The building so grotesque and white she wanted to spit on it. Pulling on her purse strap she stomped up after him into building.

The floors were beautifully marbled. A long hallway like a gaping mouth invited her upon the first step inside. Winding onwards like a deep, dark cave with many rooms left and right. Dining rooms, meeting rooms, sun rooms, reading rooms, the library. Homily decorated with antiques and carefully chosen crafts – the choice of a female obviously, but Namjoo saw no woman.

Namjoo passed a room of intimidating black bookcases before finding her way into the kitchen. A glass cup of water landed on an island and Sehun shot her a narrowed stare. “Sit,” was all he said before walking away.

Scoffing, Namjoo watched him disappear. Stupefied because he’d really brought her into his house. It was her first time in the Oh manor since they’d gotten engaged two years ago. Instead of showing her around like a normal host would he ditched her instead. Twisting her wrist she glanced at the time. It was 12PM.

Freaking dinner.

She was supposed to spend her entire day here?! Nonsense! Namjoo would rather vomit. Gripping her purse she turned around intending to leave. Catch a cab outside, go somewhere else but stopped when she saw a woman staring back at her from the kitchen entrance. Blinking once, twice.

Finally finding her voice, “You are?”

“Going to leave,” Namjoo said and took a step forward, immediately halting when the woman blocked her.

“No, no,” shaking her head embarrassed. Smiling now, “Sorry. I just…” flustered she touched her forehead, “I was surprised. There’s been no other woman in this house besides me.”

Namjoo’s eyes darted to the side. A little awkward. Lost.

“I see you’re drinking water.” The little woman scurried by. “Would you like anything else to drink?”

Pulling one of the two-door silver fridges open, she pulled out a jar of orange juice. “I squeezed these myself this morning. They’re fresh, and sweet. You’ll like it.”

Namjoo watched her pour the juice into another cup and slid them over. Anxiously waiting, watching for her to drink it. Pressured, Namjoo reached for the cup and took a cautious sip. The pretty woman with long, straight hair smiled pleased.

“I forgot,” she perked up surprising Namjoo, “I’m Seoyun.” Upon Namjoo’s blank expression she pressed on, “I’m Sangki’s wife…uh…Sehun’s sister-in-law. That’s it! You’re his fiancée?” Smiling more broadly, “Why, I didn’t know. Sorry, I know we’ve never met before.”

“No…” Namjoo said. “It’s fine.”

Sipping the cup of juice because she didn’t know what to do anymore, she suddenly wished Sehun would come back from wherever it was he’d gone. She was feeling more awkward by the second. Never planning to meet his immediate family members. At least not until the wedding day.

“We were in a bad place, so we didn’t make it to your engagement ceremony – I mean, my husband – Sehun’s brother, you know…” she trailed off anxiously. Fiddling with her hands and trying her best to smile. There was something about her Namjoo didn’t quite get.

“I told you to come down and look for my watch!” A voice boomed. Namjoo swerved around to find a tall man entering the kitchen with enlarged eyes that went small when he spotted her. “Oh?” he said surprised. “You are?”

“Honey,” Seoyun breathed a sigh of nervousness, “it’s Sehun’s fiancée. Uh…I didn’t get your name.”

Namjoo glanced at the woman. “I’m Namjoo.”

“Ah…right, Namjoo.” Seoyun timidly smiled appearing like a small mouse in front of her husband. Her demeanor quietening upon her husband’s approach.

This was weird.

Namjoo glanced at the man who looked kind of like Sehun and kind of not like Sehun. There was a thing about his cheekbones. Flatter, not high bridged like Sehun’s. Made him appear grim.

“Go find my watch,” he ordered.

Seoyun nodded. Glancing at Namjoo with a lowered head, “It was nice meeting you.” She brushed by on fast feet.

Namjoo took another sip of the juice noting how full the jar of freshly squeezed juice was. Obviously, no one had taken a drink from it. Strangely, Namjoo felt sorry.

“So, Namjoo,” Sangki slid from around her, his arm gently brushing her back as he moved closer, “why are you standing? Come sit.” Leading her out of the kitchen into the next room he pulled out a chair for her to sit. Not surprisingly, he sat next to her but facing her. Arm flirtatiously settled on the table top, the other around the back of her chair.

Namjoo eyed his hands a width away from her shoulder and took another sip from the cup of juice. He smiled at her the way a man would smile at a woman he met at a club.

“The juice is good.” Namjoo commented.

“What?”

Namjoo peered down at the glass cup. Looking at him more stoically, “I said the juice is good.”

“Oh…yes, yes it is.” He smiled.

“Have you tried it?” Namjoo asked. She wanted to frown irate when he took her cup and sipped from it. Gasping satisfied.

“It’s good.”

Namjoo wanted to grind her teeth. What a . She put the glass on the table. Appetite lost because she did not want to share his germs.

“I see the jar is pretty full. It must have taken a long time to make the juice.” Namjoo noted.

“Ah…that?” he asked. “You can buy the juice from any store.”

“Really?” Namjoo raised a brow. “I saw scraps of oranges in the garbage in the kitchen.”

He burst out laughing as if she’d said something ridiculous. Namjoo simply stared. Not amused. She managed to pull a firm smile on her face.

Oh Sangki was really something.

Tracing eyes over him she realized he was slimmer than Sehun. His clothes fit him just right as if they were specially tailored for him. A man who kept with his appearance to look neatly groomed and attractive. He could make hearts swoon if he did it right. He probably did it nightly. She wouldn’t be surprised. The kind of man who could charm with words alone. Really flirtatious. So, she wondered, how did he get a shy woman like Seoyun? What a mystery.

Namjoo grinned. Noticing the fluctuation in his face as he saw it, too. He smiled more broadly as if recognizing that she saw how attractive he was. His pheromones shooting sky high for her. Namjoo reached her hand forward, skidding her fingers lower. Toward his thigh. To his dark blue pants. His knees daring to touch her leg, maybe brush and turn her on. Want flickered through his eyes as he watched her movements until she touched the bulge in his pocket.

“Your watch,” Namjoo looped her finger through the silver fragment. Pulling out the accessory and holding it up. “You were looking for it?”

He burst into a roar of laughter that deafened her ears. No longer in the mood to watch him show off, Namjoo tilted her hand and let the watch drop into the cup of orange juice. Listening to the plop of the watch as the orange liquid hurdled out of the cup splattering around it in droplets.

Sangki’s jaw dropped mortified.

“Oops,” Namjoo muttered.

“Do you know how expensive that was?! That was a luxury limited edition!” His shaky hands reached into the cup for the broken watch, shaking it, tapping it desperately to make it work. Looking at her angrily he yanked her up by the wrist. “You!”

“What are you doing?” a voice cut the air like glass. They turned to find Sehun in the doorway. Seoyun behind him with mousey eyes.

***Namjoo is a but she knows how to pick her fights