They were on the edge of a standstill. Waiting for something to move. For something to happen. The breeze cut in. He blinked. She blinked. The seconds waned until Namjoo got up and disappeared inside. Registering a second later what was her phone ringing.

Sehun waited a beat before pushing himself away from the iron bars and headed downstairs. Hearing Namjoo’s hushed voice somewhere from down the hall leading into the kitchen. Namjoo had her back to him, phone cupped to her ear. There was grass littered across her back, in her hair.

“I’m not home anymore,” he heard her saying. “I can come…”

Snatching her phone he glanced at Eunwoo’s name across the screen. Namjoo whirled around with surprise in her eyes that quickly transitioned sternly.

Pressing the end call button, Sehun said, “He’s not invited here, and no you’re not going out.”

“Give me my phone.” Namjoo seemed to air as she demanded.

Sehun stared down at her foully. He was aware she had a special relationship with Cha Eunwoo. Friends bordering the line of a passionate relationship. None of which bothered him much, but there was one line he was not going to let them cross. Because Namjoo was wearing the ring he bought with his own hardworking money.

There was not going to be infidelity in his marriage.

“I said give me my phone.” She gritted her teeth.

“You’re going to call him again?”

“Yes.” She stated with much spite.

“You are aware I was given a week off work, dear wife,” Sehun told, “for us to settle in. You do know the house workers are making notes of how intimately we are getting along, so I’m warning you. For your own sake and my own, don’t do anything stupid unless you want your father and mine nosing their way into our lives. Watch yourself.”

The phone vibrated as it went off. Sehun stared at Eunwoo’s name again and hung up.

“Lets have some wine, wife,” he said after shoving the phone into her hands and walked by.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Namjoo wanted to kick him. Gripping onto her phone she stomped after him. The urge to kick him grew when he asked the kitchen lady to go downstairs for a bottle of wine. Damn him and the house. Aware that on another level this was his family’s land, the house workers employed by his family. Everything and everyone here in this house belonged to his family.

The aggravation of the fact grew thick like smoke in her chest.

“You’re excused,” Sehun said when she returned with the dark bottle.

Without waiting for his invite Namjoo swiped the first wine glass he filled and sat down at the island. Lifting the glass to . He shot her an irritated glance and left with no choice took the second glass for himself. He remained standing.

“How romantic,” Namjoo mused. “Me by myself, with a glass of wine. Feels like no one’s here but me.”

She glanced up to find Sehun staring narrowly at her. Broadly grinning she leaned forward, “Would you like to say something?”

“Lets set a few rules.” Sehun finally started.

“How manly,” Namjoo commented.

“Don’t invite anyone home without my knowledge.”

“Ooooh…” Namjoo took another sip of her wine.

“If you’re going to go out, let someone know. I don’t want rumors.”

“Ahh…”

“Act accordingly. We’re married now.”

“Oops…I guess I’m in trouble.”

“Would you stop it?” he snapped.

Namjoo peered up at him from the brim of her wine glass. Dipping her head back to drain the glass she slammed it back down on the table. “So? Why does it matter? You may have a clean slate, but I’m used to rumors. If my father wants to dig his heel into our marriage, I’m not afraid of him. If your family wants to join, let them. Just sit back dear husband. I won’t let you tarnish your image.”

She received a dark frown from him as she stalked away. They had lunch and dinner very quietly without much talk and spent the remaining hours holed up in their own rooms.

Over the week the rest of her belongings were sent over. Namjoo spent a good amount of her days finally unpacking knowing now that she was trapped as one of the Ohs, that indeed she had been sold off into this marriage.

She went shopping after giving notice to one of the housekeepers just as Sehun asked and ate a very sumptuous meal without him to spite him. In order to annoy him even more she blasted music from her room that the entire house’s foundation shook. Not one person would be able to focus in peace. This had Sehun screaming at her from the bottom of the stairs. When she didn’t hear he strode up the stairs to pound on her door.

“TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!!!” he yelled.

“WHAT???” she yelled back. Behind her the drums and bass continued blasting right into the walls.

“I SAID TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!”

“WHAT?” Namjoo indulged in joy watching as his veins bulged from frustration and he repeated himself, as if his voice could override what sounded like a live band at her back. Pressing the remote in her hand to stop the music she grinned, “Just kidding.”

Namjoo was certain she reeked of joy when he in a breath as he decided whether it was worth fighting with her or giving up. Biting his lip he swiveled to walk away and when he began disappearing down the stairs Namjoo began blasting the music again and closed her bedroom door.

The next morning she relished even more in stealing the last scrap of their entrée just as he began reaching for it. Chewing noisily and smacking her lips she asked, “Oh? Did you want the rest?”

Maybe he glared but she certainly saw the eyeroll when he slid out of his seat. Namjoo’s lips spread into a wide grin to restrain herself from laughing. She was confident he knew that these days she was intentionally getting on his nerves. Settling in was what she’d call it if that’s what his family wanted.

Namjoo snickered to herself Saturday morning. Coming up with more ideas because she was constantly bored. Stuck home all week with no lifer Sehun was worse than imprisonment. It wasn’t this bad when she was home.

Holding the nail polish away she blew at her nails to dry the new coat of color. Later she planned to go lay out in the sun again. She wanted some fresh air. Her head shot up when the door flew open slamming into the wall.

“Get up.” It was Sehun.

“What is your problem?” She frowned. Letting out a yelp when she realized she had smudged her newly polished nails. Temper shortening, she snapped, “Close the door!”

Inhaling, Sehun hesitated but only momentarily before entering her bedroom. Namjoo shifted on her bed shocked when he started going through her closet.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she raised her voice.

“You have five minutes,” Sehun ambiguously told, “to bring everything that’s yours into my room.” then he walked out with a heap of her clothes.

Namjoo stared after him with a slacked jaw. Mumbling to herself she snagged a tissue nearby and began wiping off the nail polish regrettably. Disregarding his order she hurried out after him. Just in time to see him throwing her clothes onto his bed. Offended by the way he did it without care.

Grabbing his arm she demanded, “What is going on?”

“Where are your clothes?” he asked.

“Bring them back to my room.” Insistently ignoring him she scooped her clothes up into her arms.

“They’re coming,” he finally said when she turned with not even a foot out the door. Sehun turned to stare at the wall when she looked at him. “To see how we’re doing or whatever you want to call it.”

“.” Was what chimed out of without thinking.

Tossing the clothes back onto the bed she hurried out of his room. Spending a good half hour hiding every belonging of hers on the vanity, the tables, and the closet. Throwing her clothes on Sehun’s bed. Every condiment into his bathroom. Emptying her room, because someone might want to do a sweep through of the house out of curiosity. And true to Sehun’s words, she’d be damned if their fathers wanted to jump onto the ship of their marriage.

Namjoo would rather rot in hell than deal with their nosiness.

Namjoo ran downstairs as fast as the wind when the doorbell began ringing. Bumping into Sehun’s arm as the door opened and very familiar voices started greeting them.

“Sorry for the last-minute invasion,” his father happily smiled walking in.

“It was very last minute,” Namjoo said to receive a condescending stare from Sehun. Gripping onto Sehun’s arm to look the lovey-dovey wife, she said, “Come in. Come in.” Peeking behind him to see Sehun’s entire family in tow. Hers as well.

“Hi, you two,” Seoyun greeted walking in.

“Wow, it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other,” Namjoo tried. Sehun shot her another stare adding a frown this time.

Mending the conversation he said, “Come in and sit. Make yourself feel at home.”

Seoyun passed by like a breeze. It was Sangki who came in next. Shuffling in his gait. Not appearing too excited, but he didn’t seem to be in a sour mood. He slapped Sehun’s arm in greeting then walked by.

“They’re not staying, are they?” Namjoo quickly asked before her family made it to the doorway.

Sehun couldn’t reply in time.

“Why, Namjoo,” it was her step-mother, “what a shock it is to see you waiting for us by the doorway.”

“Mother, father,” on his best behavior, Sehun welcomed them.

“Sehun,” Hea smiled then glanced at her with a flicker in her eyes, “Namjoo. Aren’t you two embarrassed standing so affectionately?”

Namjoo glanced down at her hand around Sehun’s arm. Looking up when her father coughed within his throat. Chiding, for the first time in front of her, “Hea. Mind your manners.” Looking at them, he said with gentleness, “I’ve brought some tangerines with us. The chauffeur will bring them in.”

“Oh…thanks.” It was Sehun.

Suddenly, Namjoo was more uncomfortable than expected. Hea walked past with her parents intentionally brushing into her. Hea being put on blast for putting her on the spot was something that never happened before. Namjoo didn’t expect the rest of the afternoon to go by smoothly.

“For the night,” Sehun’s voice brought her attention to. “Just one night.”

“What a ty start to the day,” Namjoo mumbled watching as one then two then three of the housekeepers hurry to bring the luggage in.

Turning around she followed him into the lounge where everyone was seated. Looking as comfortable as if they were in their own rooms. There was Sangki peering around bored. Their fathers sitting closest to each other and quietly talking about something. Then mother and daughter walking around to gaze out the windows, because the walls were not decorated.

Namjoo followed Sehun to sit on a couch adjacent to their fathers. Really, she wished she was an island away. They should have gone to the stupid Bahamas or something. Why had they chosen to stay home instead? Now they get this.

“How are you two settling in?” Sehun’s father wondered.

“Good, we’re doing good.” Sehun replied.

When he glanced at her Namjoo turned into a parrot, “Good. We’re doing good.”

“You get a big house and good is all you have to say?” Sangki spoke up. He was leaned back, arms sprawled out across the length of the couch.

“We enjoy it here,” Namjoo spoke up, “but of course, it’s not appropriate to say everything we do here.”

“It’s the first I’ve heard some common sense coming from you,” Hea commented with crossed arms.

“That’s great news,” Kim Bonhwa cut in. Looking at his wife and daughter, “Come sit. It’s rude to stand.”

Walking over his wife and daughter sank into the empty cushions beside him.

“Which is the nicest bedroom?” Hea wondered. “I want to have that room for the night.”

“The rooms are being prepared,” Sehun told. “You can have a look after.”

“The scenery is great here,” her step-mother admired. “It must be great from your room, too.”

Namjoo breathed a smile simply because she didn’t want to reply. Then Seoyun who she hadn’t realized was missing walked in with a tray of drinks. One of the kitchen orderlies followed her in with another tray. Namjoo was puzzled when she received the only colored drink.

“Why is mine different?” Namjoo asked. Peering up at Seoyun confused.

“Drink up,” Sehun’s father urged cutting off Seoyun’s chance to reply.

Frowning, Namjoo glanced at Oh Shiwoo then at Sehun as if he might know. He shrugged. Weirded out by the strange atmosphere Namjoo stared at her cup as Seoyun sat down by her husband.

“Drink it,” her father told.

Sipping from her cup Hea smirked. Her step-mother ushered, “It won’t hurt you. It’s for your own good.”

Namjoo glanced at Sehun’s ordinary glass of water, wondering if they were married why wasn’t he also drinking purple liquid?

Pressured, Namjoo lifted the cup to . Subtly smelling it. There was a mix of herbs. Names she wouldn’t know from the top of her head.

“It’s not a joke?” Namjoo lowered the glass.

“Just drink it, Namjoo,” Hea impatiently said. “It won’t kill you.” She received a nudge from her mother.

Namjoo glanced at the blotchy liquid. Finally inhaling it. She tasted bitter medicine and nearly choked. Forced herself to swallow a bit more.

“It’s tonic to invigorate a woman’s body,” Seoyun helped. “It’s to help with pregnancy.”

Lowering the glass a half inch from her lips Namjoo spit out what she had in . The liquid sprayed like a water hose in their fathers' direction. A good quarter of it landed on Sehun’s knees.

It happened so fast Namjoo was coughing one second and the next her step-mother was shrieking. Seoyun was hurrying into the kitchen for towels. Sangki was half-howling, half on his feet. Glued between the shock of her outburst and Seoyun’s explanation Sehun glanced down at his knees with palms outstretched.

In that instant they were both a pair of dumbfounded idiots.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Sehun’s father assured anyone who was even listening.

Returning, Seoyun handed them towels.

“What are you doing?” Jiyoo turned to scold her. “I just knew you were up to something.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Namjoo defended.

“You always want to mess up,” Jiyoo scorned.

Seoyun watched them timidly. Handed Sehun a towel.

“If none of you deceived me by making me drink that…”

“Then finish it!” her step-mother angrily told. Namjoo stared up at her. Eyes hardening. Hand gripping onto her pants.

She was angry.

“I’m sorry,” Seoyun apologized. “It was my fault.”

But Namjoo wasn’t paying attention to her. She watched her step-mother look at Seoyun with a flash of irritation for intervening. Squeezing the glass in her grip she chugged the rest of the liquid. Slammed it down and wiped with the back of her hand. At the same time, struggling not to heave it back up.

Yanking on his wife’s hand, her father pulled Jiyoo back down beside him. “Don’t be upset, Namjoo. We were just thinking of you.”

How dare you even think of me Namjoo wanted to yell. She sat there coldly without looking any of them in the eye.

“We were just worried. We hope you and Sehun can have a child,” Oh Shiwoo helped. “You’re married now. Our family has long hoped for a grandchild. We’re all so old now, a grandchild would be like a blessing in our lives.”

“You’re not getting any younger.” Her step-mother this time. “It’ll be harder to have a baby after a year or two. Work on it now, so you won’t have to worry later. You’ll need a son in your life. A daughter is ok, too.”

“What’s so hard about it, right Namjoo?” Hea with one of her little devilish smirks again.

She was going to puke.

The tonic was on the verge of shooting back up. Namjoo jumped up to her feet scrambling past their family in search of the only bathroom on the first floor. Hearing Hea snicker, “Maybe she’s already pregnant.” as she dashed down the hallway.

Everything came back up when she finally reached the toilet. Hurling all but her feelings.

So they sold her for this.

For a baby.

Just a baby

A baby.

Namjoo choked, coughed, spat.

She shoved the hand at her back off with ferocity. Turning to glare at dumb Sehun who hadn’t said a thing. “Don’t touch me.”