⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

“Flowers!” Kihoon exclaimed when they got home.

“That’s right,” Namjoo smiled at him. “Flowers. Are they pretty?”

“Pwetty!” following her like a cute puppy, Kihoon repeated. “Daddy buy for mommy.”

He clung onto her jeans. Staring up at her with a gleam in his eyes. Adorable Kihoon completing a half of her life. Namjoo touched his small back affectionately. Couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised with the flowers.

She knew Sehun had a sweet side, but flowers all of a sudden and so randomly. Giving them to her now. When they were divorced.

The timing was a little off, but Namjoo had to admit it made her happy. The unexpected part about receiving the flowers made her endogenously shy. It had been difficult meeting eyes with Sehun. Unprepared to see what might be hidden in his brown eyes. Especially after a long day of pondering over cooking for him or not.

From the moment she woke up it was all she wondered about. Struggling not to let it weigh on her mind that Sehun would like a meal cooked by her. Walking into work and debating if she should. If she shouldn’t.

The picture of him in his doorway unable to come any closer disturbed her. A part of her wondered if it had been hard for him to ask. Since the divorce neither of them wanted to burden the other. Sehun did his thing. She did her thing. No longer asking after another.

Strange how it made her heart ache when it came to food.

In the end, she let Junhee leave early. Didn’t want the cook to know she was using the kitchen for personal purposes. Didn’t want to make it obvious in front of Junhee or Eunkyung that she planned to cook something for her ex-husband.

Hadn’t wanted to let it out that cooking for Sehun made her jittery and nervous, because going through those swings meant something.

For an hour she dug through her fridge. Products reserved only for restaurant use, but here she was. Using them for herself.

She shouldn’t, but she was.

Her eyes had swung between the clock on the wall to the stove fired up. Not knowing when Sehun would arrive with Kihoon. Afraid she wouldn’t have the food ready by the time they did. And then the door flew open when she set the table. Kihoon flying toward her with something a little too big for him in his arms.

“Mommy!” he excitedly called out. “Flowers! Daddy buy! Daddy love mommy!” Grinning goofily, he had shoved them into her hands. Giggling as he clapped.

So, it had been more than difficult to look Sehun in the eyes. The gesture of giving her flowers was not very simple.

He wasn’t saying sorry or thank you. It wasn’t just a token of appreciation.

Cooking a meal for him had not been an easy feat either.

The two of them were traveling different roads that somehow forked together.

Namjoo a petal. Imagining how hard it must have been for Sehun to just give them to her. The silly way he intentionally lingered in front of the restaurant brought a smile to her lips. She wanted to laugh. The emotion bubbled inside her. Rising up her chest.

Controlling herself, she held a hand out to her son. “Should we go take a bath?”

Shrieking excited, Kihoon swirled around to run away. His way of telling her to chase him first. Leaving the flowers, she ran after him.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Sehun had to control himself the second he got into his car and drove the distance home. Entering the building coolly. Riding the elevator up with a neighbor fighting with his entire sanity to keep a straight face. In case they perceived him as manic and deported him to a hospital.

Breaking the laughter once the door closed. Cackling. Hee-hawing. All the joy bursting through him as he jumped onto his bed and thrashed his legs. Kicking the bed and burying his face into the blanket.

The joy emanating through him was too much. He’d wanted to keel over and scream it all out the second Namjoo gave her answer.

“Then…for a bit.”

Even if she stood for five minutes with him at Doyoon’s celebration he swore he wouldn’t complain. He had asked and she had said yes.

It was all he cared about.

Laughing loudly, he flipped over. Laying with his arms spread out. Exhaling as he stared up at the ceiling. Today had been everything he hadn’t foreseen.

Namjoo accepting the flowers.

Namjoo having a meal prepared for him.

Namjoo saying yes to him.

Today he was nothing but the luckiest man alive.

Sehun laid on the bed for a while. Replaying it over and over in his head. Everything starting from the moment he arrived at Namjoo’s restaurant to the moment he left. Unsure when he fell asleep, but he did and with a smile on his face.

Waking up early he took an extra long shower. Aware he wouldn’t be seeing Namjoo until later in the week, but he took his time combing through his closet. Styled his hair. Heading to work wearing a trendy jacket he never pulled out from his closet. Feeling ultimately good, because he couldn’t stop replaying yesterday’s events.

Joining the morning crowd in front of the elevator, Sehun waited for the elevator to arrive. Eager to get to work. Finish the rest of the week, so he could see Namjoo Sunday.

He turned upon a bump on the arm and saw Seol. “Look at you.” She mused. “Are you going on a date?” Leaning closer, she whispered with a mischievous grin, “Is it with her?”

Sehun blushed. Feeling the heat transmit all the way down to his toes. “N…no.”

Noticing the eye of other male workers around them, he stepped away from her. He didn’t want rumors around the workplace. It would make him feel guilty. Toward Seol.

Toward Namjoo.

It would honestly kill him if Namjoo misunderstood. Assuming he was interested in another woman. No doubt would she put a wall between them. Sehun didn’t want to keep climbing walls.

He didn’t want to be the one hurting Namjoo, especially when they were already divorced. It was already increasing the miles between them. Even if he had to take the longest route to get to her, he didn’t want the road to keep growing.

Because yesterday had been good.

Namjoo accepting the flowers.

Namjoo having a meal prepared.

Namjoo saying no and then yes when he asked.

Things like that only happened once in a blue moon. Their relationship was already rocky considering their circumstances. Nothing was definite between them, but he didn’t want this to be the end.

Sehun didn’t want to say goodbye.

He most didn’t want the next one to be the real farewell, because if he slipped off the edge of the cliff he would continue falling forever.

The elevator hissed open, but he didn’t step forward. Staring at the floor this time while the blurs passed. Suddenly realizing he was getting too ahead of himself. Getting riled up because of something that was normal for everyone else.

Meals warmly cooked.

Giving flowers away.

Hearing yes instead of a rejection.

Good things could only last so long. Once Namjoo saw his parents at the dinner she would never show up again. Because what could he do? In front of Doyoon’s people, in front of a crowd of strangers he couldn’t easily tell his mother off.

Five minutes with him at the dinner might seem like heaven to him, but to Namjoo it would be hell. With his parents. With Doyoon’s parents. With a family she no longer had an affiliation with.

His insensitivity yesterday and today was all about him.

This bliss he had experienced was only a veil. Instead he was an .

Ask Namjoo to go? He shouldn’t have. What had gotten into him? He knew better.

He always knew better.

He shouldn’t have gotten ahead of himself.

“I don’t have a date.” He said louder this time.

Seol was still standing with his piteous self.

Turning to her when the lift came back for them, he said, “Lets go before we’re late.”

When he got to his desk, he immediately took off his jacket.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

“Do you have to be so stubborn about taking him home?” her mother complained Kihoon’s hair.

Namjoo was stuck having a late dinner with them. Surrounding a rectangular table big enough for four. The center of the table variously filled with homecooked dishes. Kihoon was currently gnawing on a chicken bone, the flesh all gone already. Acting as if he was teething again.

“I’m not staying, mom.” Namjoo repeated.

The elder woman sighed. “You know your aunt knows someone whose son is still single. Never married. If you’re free at the end of the month…”

Namjoo heaved a tiresome breath. “Forget it, mom.”

“Why are you mentioning this?” her father hissed. “Leave her alone. She’ll worry about herself when the time comes.”

Kihoon glanced at her with those wide eyes b with innocence. Namjoo smiled hoping he didn’t actually understand.

“Well, we need to talk about it sometime,” her mother insisted. “Kihoon is getting older. He’ll start to notice he’s different…” she lowered her voice, “from other kids.”

Namjoo fought not to roll her eyes.

Her father spoke in her stead, “Will you stop it? It’s not time yet.”

Her mother turned to quietly tell her husband off. In the middle of their fit, Namjoo put more food on Kihoon’s plate.

They left quietly after eating. Namjoo thought Kihoon might have dozed off on the drive home, because he was so quiet. Instead, he was wide awake when they reached home. He first reached for her hand as she closed the door and locked the car.

“Mommy,” he called out.

The automatic door whooshed open for them. Namjoo pressed the button for the elevator and watched the arrow blink on the upper screen.

“What is it?” Namjoo asked. The elevator arrived quickly. She stepped inside with him and pushed the button for their floor.

“You no like daddy?” he innocently questioned.

“Why would you say that?” she glanced down at him.

Nervously fiddling with his jacket zipper, he stared at the floor. “Why grammy say that?”

Namjoo’s heart trembled painfully. Lost. Not sure what to say to Kihoon.

“Grammy is just,” she tried, “she’s just…”

“I miss daddy.” Kihoon’s eyes turned sad.

In that moment, Namjoo wished she knew what to do. That she could have told her mom to shut up. To stop. Kihoon was sensitive. He might just be four-years-old, but he was starting to comprehend what they were talking about. He could grasp the meaning behind their actions.

“Come on,” Namjoo urged when the doors yawned open and she pulled him forward.

Kihoon bathed without babbling. She dressed and settled him on her bed. Needing the comfort of his little body beside her. Wanting to watch over the existence that had come from her.

Laying beside him she gently patted his chest. Catching view of the curve of his nose. The shape of his lips that connected to his chin. Oh Kihoon was still so small. Even if he grew as tall as Sehun he would still be the child that made all the difference in her life.

She didn’t want him to be confused or hurt. She wished she could understand what went through his head. Every little thought that formed there. Did he wonder about mom and dad? Did he understand yet that she and Sehun were divorced? Was it hard being sent from one home to the other?

Kihoon still had a father. Kihoon was no different than the next child in school. Would her son understand that when the time came? That just because she and Sehun did not live together with him, it didn’t make him any more or less than his friends?

How could she protect him? If Kihoon kept growing up, would outsiders start viewing him as the broken chip in her and Sehun’s lives? Would Kihoon’s future friends’ parents pity him? Would she and Sehun’s divorce become a burden in Kihoon’s life? Would they cause others to judge their son?

Closing her eyes Namjoo slid toward Kihoon. Hugging him closely and hoping her son wouldn’t have to grow up facing so many difficulties. She would shield him every day of her life.

Needless say, Kihoon cheered up the next day. Singing a bout of children’s songs at the table during breakfast. Skipping with her along the hall to her parents’ place. Running toward her when she picked him up at the end of the day.

By Sunday it was as if he’d never been sad at all.

So eager to see his dad Kihoon jumped from one foot to the other while they waited for Sehun to open the door.

“Daddy! Daddy!” he shrieked tackling Sehun’s legs when the door opened.

Namjoo tried a tiny smile, explaining, “He’s been excited all morning.”

“I pway?” Kihoon tilted his head back to look up at Sehun.

“Ok.” He’d already run off before Sehun even replied.

Namjoo watched Kihoon dash into the living room. Kneeling before his chest of toys. “About Kihoon,” she started as she handed over Kihoon’s bag.

“Oh…yea?”

Namjoo still kept her eyes on Kihoon. She could be over worrying, but she didn’t want Kihoon’s mental state to be so affected by them. Because it would hurt her and she would never forgive herself.

“He was sad this week,” Namjoo told. “My mom said something that must have bothered him. And he missed you.”

Sehun turned to peer over his shoulder at their Kihoon. Then back to her. “What did she say?”

Namjoo had hoped he wouldn’t ask. In order not to fidget in front of him like she felt bad, she coolly said as if it didn’t matter to her, “My mom mentioned seeing someone’s son during dinner. You know, Kihoon’s more intuitive these days. He must have caught onto what my mom was saying.”

Namjoo struggled not to stare too hard at Sehun. Figure out his reaction. If it bothered him. She shouldn’t let it get to her.

But she knew better.

After receiving the flowers.

After cooking for him.

It just wasn’t so easy.

“Oh…” was all she got from Sehun.

This time, it was she who lingered. Needing to say more. Warring with herself to not to be reckless. Be impulsive. Do something she would only end up regretting.

It was an internal struggle that wouldn’t stop.

“Just…if you could keep an eye on him,” Namjoo continued and wished she would shut up already. Did this even matter? Stop rambling. She went on, “I don’t want what happened to us to affect him so much. Kihoon shouldn’t have to worry about it. We’re his parents, but…I just don’t want anyone to look down on him or for him to feel different.”

“I know.” Sehun pulled on a small smile. “I understand.”

That was it.

She should really stop here.

“Then, I’ll go.” Namjoo hesitated, glanced at him, and started turning.

“Namjoo,” he made her stop. “About the dinner. I’m sorry I asked. If you’re uncomfortable going, don’t go.”

There it was again. The barbed wires. The electric fence. Invisible powers that would keep them from closing the gap.

This was hers and Sehun’s relationship. A play of hopes that would rise and deflate, because her mind liked playing games with her.

She glanced past him to look at Kihoon who looked so occupied with his toys, but was probably more wary about mom and dad talking in the doorway. Was he wondering what they had to talk about for so long? Did he quietly wonder if mom hated dad? After coming to her so happily telling her daddy got her flowers; he loves you.

Some things, like the flowers that were wilting in the vase on her counter, take a long time to die. She had noticed the lilies were drying up when she received them. Sehun must have debated for so long whether to give them to her or not. In the end Kihoon had taken them from his dad and finished the task.

Thinking about that, too, made her heart ache.

It was obvious that a week ago when Sehun came to a meal prepared he had been jolly. Trying to hide his feelings. Secretly smiling as he ate. Making her happy and yet embarrassed for going out of her way to do it.

Namjoo didn’t want to disappoint Kihoon. Let him think she disliked his dad. It wasn’t right to swallow the words already given.

“It’s ok. I’ll still go.”