The haze of innocence was so strange about him. Confused about where he had been invited to. Who these people are? But when his eyes landed on her, Namjoo choked up with guilt. Yearning. Remorse. Regret.

Lee Jinho didn’t know about her.

Her background.

Her family.

What she did for a living.

Where she was now.

Who she was married to.

Or that…she was having someone else’s baby.

“Namjoo?” he took a step toward her.

Sehun edged himself in front of her. “Who are you?”

Jinho stared at the taller man. Namjoo’s heart painfully into her ribs.

“I’m…” Jinho looked at her lost then back to Sehun, “her boyfriend.”

“What?” Sehun asked bewildered.

Jinho gave Sehun a once over. Still confused. Unable to piece everything together. Trying to smile but unable to, because he was becoming anxious. “Namjoo, what are you doing there?” Nervous, but still willing to call for her, “Lets go.”

Lee Jinho, who she wanted to be just like. The man that had everything she would never have.

Freedom.

Options.

His own will.

A good, loving family.

Namjoo felt her eyes burn. Regret, because once upon a time she had really cherished his presence. For a few hours he granted her the power to let go. And she had been no one and nothing special.

“Namjoo,” Jinho nervously called again, “what are you doing? Lets go.”

She felt Sehun’s eyes on her. Most likely wondering why she wasn’t saying anything. She could not look at him. Afraid that he would see in her eyes she could be unfaithful. Wavering for a love long gone.

Deciding she wouldn’t Sehun dropped the bomb, “She’s my wife.”

“What?” shocked, Jinho stared wide-eyed at Sehun. Then his eyes slid to her.

So much remorse rattled through her. Her dishonesty to him. The lies she fed him. Gripping her hand into a fist at her side, Namjoo teared up. The flush of liquid trickled down her face. Unable to witness the disbelieving expression shoot across Jinho’s face.

His frown turned grim. Glancing at everyone in the room one by one. The hushing silence of shame that he had latched onto a married woman. Realizing at last that he was here to be made a clownery of. Those brown eyes she loved narrowed. Pivoting on an angry heel he burst toward the front door.

The emotions shot loose through her. Namjoo cried out painfully. Shoving Sehun aside as she chased after him. Hurrying down the stairs toward Jinho’s receding back. Desperate to catch him. Clinging onto his arm a quarter of the way into the front yard.

“Don’t go,” Namjoo pleaded. “I’m sorry.”

He stilled. Tilted his head back to stare up at the pink sky, as if trying to draw out his patience, which she didn’t deserve. Touching her hand, he removed her grasp.

“I couldn’t get in touch with you,” Jinho told. The voice gentle. The tone almost affectionate. Soft, sad. “I looked for you everywhere.” Then angrier, “Did you know that?”

Namjoo blinked back her tears. A useless attempt. “I’m sorry.” Now she was starting to sound like Seoyun.

Huffing, he tilted his head to stare at the sky again. Running his fingers up through his hair. Sighing. “You left me hanging. Do you know how unfair that was for me?! And you’re – ” he his arm back to the house. His breath quaked. Breathing harder, “You’re married?”

At the crack of his voice Namjoo cried a little more.

“I’m sorry.” She cried.

Perplexed, his brows pulled deeper into his face. Sounding like a toy running out of batteries, “Who are you?”

Pressing her lips together, Namjoo swallowed. Struggled to steady her overflowing emotions. “My father is Chairman Lee Bonhwa. I’m his oldest daughter.” She sniffed, “I was engaged to his best friend’s son…” she hiccupped and forced herself to continue, “when I met you.”

Jinho closed his eyes. Pained. Unable to believe what he was hearing. Namjoo was just as sorry.

“I was just game to you?” he looked at her, upset.

“No…” she shook her head. “No! I liked you.” Repeating herself to make her statement clear. “I liked you. You don’t know…”

“That’s right, I don’t want to know.” He glared at her. Glanced past her before stalking off angrily.

The emotions rushed on like powerful waves she couldn’t reclaim. Gritting her teeth to calm herself Namjoo let out a cry. Dropping onto her knees. Feeling like a morose loser.

Hands wrapped around her shoulders. Soothingly, Eunwoo asked, “Are you ok?”

No, she wasn’t.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Silence fumed. The tension was so thick it was choking. Sehun turned to see the devilish smirk on Hea’s face. The confusion swarming over Seoyun’s expression over a dinner gone wrong and why. Sangki avoided his eyes.

So, this was what they were up to?

“You did this?” Sehun asked. The anger bubbled inside him.

“Didn’t I tell you,” Hea crossed her arms, “that you can’t trust Namjoo?” Eyeing Eunwoo, “See all the men she has in her life. You should get a paternity test when the baby arrives.”

Eunwoo shot him a long condescending stare. Sehun ignored him. Tried not to think of all the times he’d seen the guy intimately touch Namjoo. Sehun would have loved to squeeze the collar around Sangki’s neck, but then Eunwoo left. His swift feet headed right for the door, where Namjoo was outside with her old lover.

Turning around he shot the remaining people a glare, his sister-in-law included. Stomping on his way out he shoved the front door open. Spotting in the distance Eunwoo helping Namjoo up from the ground where it looked like she had fallen. Spite churned through his blood, racing up to his head. Quickening his pace, he dashed toward them. Pushing Eunwoo away. Separating them. Glaring at the man who had touched his wife.

Wrapping his arm around Namjoo he led her to the car. Opening the door for her, closing it. Not sparing Namjoo’s friend one glance as he drove off. Fueled by a kind of rage.

That they had been sent into a trap.

That those men had shown up.

That Namjoo had never told him! About that man!

She was still crying when they pulled up toward the house. Angering him. Hating the point-blank fact that she was shedding tears again. Not over him. Not over her mother. But a man!

The yard was empty. The sky was dimming. The sun fading behind the trees. Darkness distorting light. A fight day and night would ceaselessly have with each other. Winning, losing. Namjoo was sniffing now. Hiccupping somewhat. Her emotions on override in part due to her pregnancy hormones. Sehun understood that much. Yet the man she had cried over…

Subconsciously grounding his teeth, he pulled the keys out of the ignition. Staring out the windshield. “Who is he?”

Namjoo wiped her stained cheek. Head hung low. Dry sobbing.

He looked at her impatient. “Are you going to answer me?”

Wiping her face again she croaked, “I liked him.”

Hot anger thrashed inside his chest.

“I met him when we were engaged,” Namjoo confessed.

“You really think that baby in Namjoo’s stomach is yours?” Hea asked. “You love her so much you think she only has eyes for you?”

Unable to withstand what he’d just heard, he turned away.

“When we were engaged,” he murmured. Then he scoffed with laughter. “Wow.”

“He was so normal,” Namjoo cried again. “I wanted to be like him. I was jealous. He had everything. If I wasn’t my father’s daughter, I wanted to live like him. So, I liked him.”

“Where does she go when you’re not home? Who does she secretly miss when she’s with you?”

The rage was baffling. Assuming Hea was correct all along, he had been fooled?

“But you married me,” Sehun glared at her. “Guess that wasn’t enough.”

Pushing open the door he slammed it behind him. So hard that the car rocked. Refusing to glance back as Namjoo curled up to continue crying. Stomping up the steps breathing steam through his nostrils. Muttering. Murmuring curses. Slamming the door to the bedroom as hard as he could. Pulling his tie loose. Cursing, swearing. He stepped into the shower, cleaned up, and sat on the edge of the bed.

The sky was entirely dark. The moon out and shining. Floating above Namjoo’s empty bedside. He counted the minutes. Staring into the dark wooden floorboards. Usurped by a dozen emotions. Frustrated beyond words.

Angrier that Namjoo hadn’t come up.

Yanking the door open he stepped down the hall. Down the stairs toward the front door. Hurrying toward the car. The front seat was empty. The car abandoned. Lifting his head, he stared into the dark wilderness. Crickets chirped. A strange alien language of the night wove around him. Their home glowed eerily behind him. Casting a golden glow down the stairs stretching toward his feet.

Namjoo wouldn’t have gone for a walk at this time. She was smarter than that. Turning around he headed inside. Peeking into the kitchen. Coming up empty.

Sighing. Stressed. Overrun by his feelings of fury at her and worry. Retreating upstairs he poked his head into the third floor. Namjoo wasn’t curled up on the couch. The home was empty. Namjoo would have nowhere else to go but his room!

Sehun paced. Hurried to the second floor. Halting when he stared at the first closed door. Eyeing the knob then the wooden slate. Touching the knob, he twisted it. Locked.

Darn Namjoo! Damn her!

“Fine,” he breathed. Pivoting he stomped down the hall slamming the door to his room again.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Namjoo felt like when she woke up. First thing she did was bend over the toilet to puke. Then she sat beside it feeling famished. It was dawn. The world succumbing to a brighter hue. Another day. Same thing.

Forcing herself up she washed up. Splashed water onto her face. Hoping it would soothe her nausea. Changing into whatever clothes were still in her old room she stumbled downstairs. Auntie Park was up early preparing breakfast.

“Look at you,” she cooed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not feeling well,” Namjoo managed a weak smile. “Can I have some tea?”

“Oh, darling,” she walked over to lead her toward the table, “sit down. I’ll make you a cup right now.”

Slumping into the chair Namjoo wrapped an arm around her midsection. Sehun finally came down when Auntie Park brought her a warm mug. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t sit down. Walking right into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, even when Auntie Park offered to do it. Then he drank it right by the counter. Making her feel more like .

Sehun was forced to sit down with her when breakfast was cooked. He dug right in without saying anything to her.

“I slept in the old room,” Namjoo told. “I thought, you’d like some space.”

“Did I ask?” Sehun brashly asked. He looked at her with that glare again. “I’m not in the mood to talk. Lets just eat quietly.”

Namjoo twirled her food around on her plate. Feeling like she might vomit again. She knew he was angry. He should be. He had all the right. But she…wanted some comfort. Her heart was imminently sore, and she had no one.

The only hand that had reached out to her didn’t want to anymore.

No kiss goodbye. Nothing about have a good day. Sehun left just like that. Sliding his chair back and turning his back to her. Disappearing out the door. Covering , she raced down the hall to the bathroom. Throwing up her breakfast.

For the rest of the day, Namjoo spent laying in bed. Drifting in and out of her dreams. About being a little girl again. Running into her mother’s warm embrace. Those long arms winding around her tiny body. Squeezing her with all the love in the world. Little things that made her heart feel rich and full.

Namjoo jolted awake with a tear sliding across her face. Realizing her phone was ringing. tiredly, she pushed herself up. Wiping her face as she fumbled for the mobile device. Without looking at the caller ID she answered.

“Namjoo!” Oh Shiwoo loudly greeted.

“Yes, father.” Namjoo perked to attention.

“Are you home?”

“Yes,” she answered, “yes, I am.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to have a snack with me. Maybe a late lunch if you haven’t eaten yet.”

Namjoo glanced at the clock. She had eaten a light meal, but she was hungry again. “That sounds nice, father.”

“I’m at home right now. Would you like to come over?”

Her memory wheeled back to yesterday’s tragic events. As if he’d read her mind, he abruptly added, “No one is home right now. Come over. I’ll wait for you.”

Hanging up Namjoo slid out of bed. Went through the closet for something appropriate to wear and headed out with keys in hand. Calming her mind even as it rushed with possibilities. What would the elder man say to her? Was he going to apologize about yesterday? She hadn’t done something wrong? Was he going to demand for something about the unborn baby?

Worry chilled her. Swiftly turning toward the home, Namjoo parked the car. Taking her time up the stairs. Into the house. Walking down the corridor in search of the dining room. He was right. No one was around. The aroma of fresh food swam up her nose. Following it she spotted her father-in-law seated at the long dining table. Rising to his feet when he spotted her. Smiling in a fatherly way. Glad to see a daughter who’d been away too long. Her father had never smiled at her like that.

Urging her pace forward she reached him. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Not at all. Come sit. You must be hungry.” He invited. Sitting when she did. “Eat, eat.”

Happily picking up her utensil she took the first bite.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“The baby?”

Glancing up, “The baby’s healthy.”

Laughing gladly, “That’s good news. Then you two will be all right.”

Feeling like she’d been caught off guard, Namjoo’s hands lowered. “Sorry?”

Still smiling he grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. “You’ll be fine with the baby?”

Blinking, Namjoo watched him more observantly. “What,” she asked, “are you talking about?”

A replay of yesterday teasingly brushed her mind. The feeling of foreboding news. The tightness in her chest. The anxious smoke whirling through her insides.

“I’m sorry, Namjoo,” he apologized sympathetically, “that we made you get married so soon, when you weren’t ready. I’m sure it must have been a really difficult time for you. I am grateful that you were able to last this long. Though we haven’t had the best of times, I appreciate that you gave in.”

“What…are you saying?” her heart thudded anxiously. She couldn’t take this. “Can you just get to the point, father?”

Pressing his lips into a thin smile. Placing hands on the table he looked right into her eyes, “I want to ask you to leave my son. I do regret that I faulted your life. It really was a pointless tragedy, and you’re also expecting. I’m really sorry that I put you in this position when it should’ve been Hea. If there is anything you want, I will compensate you and your child. Child support, money. I will also make sure your child gets into the best school possible and you will never be miserable. Of course, you have your father but I should be responsible, too.”

“What?” was the only thing that shot out of . Namjoo didn’t think she had been stabbed so hard before. The rush of disappointment was unexplainable. All the energy inside her immediately flew out the window.

“I already talked to Sehun. He should be considering it about right now.”

“What?” again. A tear dripped down her face. Embarrassed, Namjoo wiped it. Slid her chair back, “I’m sorry. I think…I’m not feeling well.”

Grabbing her purse, she dashed out of the house of nightmares.

Punishment she thought. For all the horrible things she’d done. For living a dishonest life. For trying to be a good person too late. This was her retribution. And in the end, she would be alone.

The emotions flooded down her face. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to collapse, and there would be no one to catch her. Because she had lived with so much anger. This was God’s way of punishing her. This was worse than ten slaps to the face.

Namjoo was weeping so hard she could barely see where she was going. Running into a blockade at last. Tilting her head back to see Sehun magically appearing before her.

Bursting out with a cry, “I’m sorry! Don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I love you, so don’t leave me.”