It was everything he had expected from Namjoo’s mother, but her words still hurt very badly like a sharp sword plunging deeper every inch of the way. Every atom felt injured. Sehun was internally bruised. He a punching bag for Namjoo’s angry mother.

Because he still wanted her.

He had come to love her during their time together.

He had forfeited everything for her, and all that he wanted back. Sehun realized he couldn’t not be without Namjoo.

For a long time, he sat in his car as the sky dimmed and the clouds turned gray. Playing back to when he gave it all up. When he shouldn’t have. Considering everyone but himself.

Namjoo’s parents who loved her to the moon and back. Hurting when they saw how terrible his parents were to her.

Namjoo and the hard times she was forced to cope with.

Innocent Kihoon who would be smacked right in the middle of the adults’ selfish battleground. His future indecisive because his and Namjoo’s sides were both cruel.

At the beginning everything was his fault. This turnout was also his fault, because he had signed the divorce papers when he shouldn’t have. Instead he should have sat Namjoo down and talked with her. They could have tried even if she was exhausted and there was no end to the dark tunnel she was entrapped in.

Sighing he leaned forward burying his face into the steering wheel. Heaving a deeper sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped out. Adjusting his hair in case he looked too haggard. Sehun didn’t want to cause Namjoo any worry. Clearing his throat to find his strength he entered the building and rode the elevator up to her floor. Practicing his smile the entire way.

Namjoo turned from the couch when he walked in. Rising to her feet hurriedly.

“You’re back?” she greeted and seeing her warmed him up instantly. The ache in his heart lessened a thousand notches. He just wanted to fall into her embrace. Hold her all night long just to confirm she’d not gone anywhere.

“I’m back.” He smiled taking in the fresh smell of her. “You showered?”

“Sit down. I’ll warm up your food for you.” She led him to the table. As he sat down, she rummaged through the fridge. “What kind of assignment were you working on that took you so long?”

“Just,” he watched her happily, “something important.”

“Really?” she asked once the microwave started humming.

“Yea.” Looking around he asked, “Is Kihoon asleep?”

“Ran off too much energy at the restaurant, so he knocked out right after his bath.” Namjoo grinned pleased. “It doesn’t happen too often.”

He shared her glee, smiling. Eyeing the handful of food she brought over. Butterflies fluttered inside him relishing in the fact that she had cooked and waited for him. A spoon and fork clinked against his plate. Next, a glass of water.

“Sit down with me.” he said.

“I already ate.”

“Sit down anyway.” Because he missed her and he needed her right now. When Namjoo started pulling out the chair across from him he touched the chair beside him. “Over here.”

Surprise flickered through her irises before inclining. Once seated he gently put his arm around her, easing her head onto his shoulder.

“What?” she wondered.

“Lets sit like this.” Sehun said.

“Did something happen today?” Namjoo asked.

“No.” he replied lifting a spoonful into his mouth. Exclaiming, “It’s delicious.”

Namjoo scoffed. Shifting closer she leaned against him. It was a good feeling. He could feel her warmth. She was nowhere else but here.

He didn’t want to let her go again.

He didn’t want her to send him away again.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Namjoo began. His heart leapt in alarm. “It kept slipping my mind.”

He gulped. Hoping it wouldn’t be about her mother telling him to return home.

“About Hayoung.” Lifting her head Namjoo glanced at him. “I have a funny feeling about her.”

“What about her?” he asked masking his relief.

“Did you know she quit her job?” Namjoo questioned.

“She what?” He asked anyway, because it didn’t make sense. The moment Hayoung landed that job at the city hall she had jumped in joy. Landing a government career was a part of her pride.

“Doyoon seemed angry with her when they visited about the dinner,” Namjoo told. “Didn’t you notice she wore her jacket all night long, even when the heat was on?”

He hadn’t paid attention. That night he had been more enchanted by Namjoo and the aftermath of what had occurred at his parents’. He had only cared about her and their dwindling relationship.

“Maybe they just had a disagreement,” Sehun suggested. “And it was a bit cold that night. It would have been normal to keep her jacket on.”

“I saw a bruise, Sehun,” Namjoo worried.

His eyes traced the table then to Namjoo. Bringing to memory his distant relationship with his brother-in-law, who held his head two levels high one moment and hid in the shadows the next. How Doyoon walked ahead and left Hayoung to follow like some dog. When they visited him, she hadn’t been able to say a word.

“Where did you see it?” he asked.

“On her wrist. She hid it under her sleeve,” Namjoo said.

“Maybe it was an accident.” He tried, because he didn’t want to think the worst was happening to his own sister.

“No accident can cause a bruise like that,” Namjoo chided. “I cook. I’ve turned and slammed my wrist into the table, the counter, the sink, but a bruise like that doesn’t make sense. I’m worried about her. You should check on her, ok?”

This time he did gulp. “Ok.”

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Sehun seemed quieter by the time they woke up and got ready for work. She was sorry to put more on his plate than there already was. Honestly curious if he was still disturbed by her mother’s unprecedented visit. She wanted to assure him not to worry, but also didn’t want to bring it up. Not wishing to hinder him or remind him of her parents’ disapproval of her marriage to him.

She was still waiting to see if her father might call. Her mother, too upset with her, would make her father call to talk to her instead. Teach her, this is what you did to me so I’m going to be silent with you.

Was her mother still fuming right now?

Her phone hadn’t gone off. She had no plan to drop Kihoon off at her parents’ either, so she took him to work with her. Although she risked him being a nuisance to her customers, there was no other choice. Her friends were limited. All spread out into different cities and towns. No one was close by anymore. She only had Junhee and Eunkyung on her side.

Luckily Kihoon was well behaved these days. Most thanks to Junhee’s spectacular cakes. On Kihoon’s next dentist trip she expected to hear about cavities.

A knock on the door made her swing around from her desk where she was sorting through junk mail.

“Someone just came in asking for you.” Eunkyung announced.

Namjoo tilted her head unsure who would be here for her today. Her parents needn’t make the trip all the way to her restaurant to see her. She had been confident they would call.

She was wrong.

“Granma!” Kihoon screeched hurling into Sehun’s mother’s embrace.

Namjoo’s eyes slid to the side. The brick wall inside her crumpled. What was Sehun’s mother doing here?

“You’re so dirty,” Sehun’s mother commented touching his cake smeared face. Talking to Eunkyung, she instructed, “Give me some napkins.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eunkyung searched behind the counter for some tissue.

“Mother, what are you doing here?” Namjoo approached in her apron.

“Look at this,” the woman muttered disapprovingly. “There’s no one to look after you.” Without even looking at her Sehun’s mother mumbled, “You should have just brought him to our house if you’re so busy.”

“My cake! I show you!” Kihoon started tugging her hands with his sticky hand.

“Later honey, I promise,” Sehun’s mother adoringly smiled at her grandson. Leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek she patted his back. Straightening she icily said, “Come outside.”

Without waiting she wheeled around and walked straight out the door.

Turning to Eunkyung, Namjoo asked, “Can you help wash his hands?”

The part-timer eyed the closed door then her. Eyes full of questions and concern. Thank goodness she had the manners not to say anything.

“Come on, Kihoon,” Eunkyung maneuvered around the counter with an arm stretched out. “Lets wash hands.”

Steeling herself, Namjoo headed outside. Found Sehun’s mother standing at the corner of the building with arms crossed. Not even one look at her and she walked into the parking lot. A signal for her to follow. Namjoo didn’t complain. She didn’t want to be seen in front of her business getting her head yelled off. It was utterly embarrassing in front of her customers and employees. She couldn’t stand the thought of it.

Around the corner she heard a door close, a car engine start. Sehun’s mother was in her Acura MDX; this year’s newest model. Pursing her lips, she opened the passenger’s side and slid into the new leather seat. She pulled over to the side of a street several blocks away in an empty slot in front of a game shop.

“I’ll get straight to the point with you,” her eyes settled on the street in front of them. “As a woman, you will never be good enough for our family. I’ll admit you are a high achiever, but that’s only as far as you go. Your successes will never make you good enough for my son, so tell him to leave exactly the way you did when you gave him the divorce papers. It is embarrassing for a woman to go back and reclaim what she already gave up!”

Namjoo glanced at the woman.

“It pisses me off that your mother had the audacity to call me. Are you out to give me a heart attack? Do you want to see me die?!” the woman screamed at her. “How dare a scoundrel like you let my son into your house?! You are a woman who knows no shame, even a knows her limits. Tonight, you will tell him to go back home. I will never allow you to get back with my son. Do you understand?”

“Mother…”

“Is your meek brain too small to understand?! I thought you graduated from university,” she raged. “Don’t ever try to seduce my son again. You are just Kihoon’s mother and nothing else. Have some self-respect, please, Namjoo. You left my son for a better life, so go find it somewhere else.” She shook her head, “But not with my son. You will never be suitable for him.”

Namjoo struggled not to fist her hands. Curl up her fingers in hopes of finding the will to fight back.

She had never fought back in respect of Sehun’s parents. Once working hard to please them and then not knowing how to anymore. She had wanted to be a good daughter-in-law. To be praised every time she worked hard. Hoping his parents would recognize her efforts one day. When they didn’t, she would tell herself just to try harder the next time, but they only ever admonished her. Until they wore her spirit out.

“How am I not good enough?” Namjoo squeaked and regretted not speaking louder.

Sehun’s mother shot her a hot glare. “Get out.”

Pressing her lips together, Namjoo grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. She knew better than to try again. The moment the door closed his mother left her in the dust.

It was stupid, but she was hurt again. Even though it was no news that his mother abhorred her. Every time it pained her a little more that she would never be enough.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Sehun pulled up in front of the last known address of Doyoon and Hayoung’s home. Visiting them once with his parents when they got married because Doyoon had invited them for dinner. To show off the studio; how nice his home was; that he made such a good salary he could provide for Hayoung forever. Sehun recalled staring out the window with a view of the neighboring skyscrapers even to the next town over. A city bustling with so much energy the world seemed limitless.

Stepping out of his car he gazed up at the 14 floors. Every window symmetrical on its climb up. Ascending so high the tenants literally lived in the clouds. He entered into a wide marbled lobby. Hushed murmurs surrounded him. A group gathered in the corner drinking from their cups of coffee right next to the plush furniture. Sehun walked up to the overly classy gold elevators and pressed for the ninth floor.

He hadn’t visited a second time. Praying Doyoon and Hayoung had not moved. He stepped out into a winding hallway with identical steel doors. Padlocks next to each one that required a code known only to its occupants. The corridor extended forever that Sehun ended up walking back and forth turning into another intersecting hallway and then another. Stuck in the maze of floating doors until he finally came across familiar numbers.

The overhead light shone a yellow ray atop his head as he buzzed to be let in. He waited a long minute. Pressing the buzzer again. Wondering if his sister was in. He had called earlier only to reach voicemail. Ending in him making this visit.

Pushing the bell, he patiently waited. If no one came to the door he’d wait another minute and call Hayoung one more time. Leave her another message and go home, but then the door opened. There was Hayoung standing with only one side of her face showing, kind of turned away from him.

“What?” he asked.

Delicately touching her face, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Recalling Namjoo’s words he glanced at her apparel. She was in knee-high sweats but wore an oversized hoodie.

“What’s with your clothes?” Sehun wondered.

“Nothing. I’m just a bit cold,” she said. “Look, I’m a little busy with cleaning right now. If you don’t need anything you should go.”

He glanced inside the sleek home. All was neat and sorted. Nothing out of place. Not even a broom or mop bucket in sight, so what cleaning?

“Can I come in?” Sehun asked.

“There’s no food in the house right now,” Hayoung excused.

“I’m not here to eat.” He said. Gesturing with his chin, “Let me come in. I came a long way, you know.”

Hayoung hesitated then moved back. Once inside he peered around. He was right. The home was already clean and orderly. So tidy that he was afraid to touch anything. Turning around he saw that Hayoung was still hovering in front of the door, back to him.

“I can’t get a glass of water at least?” he wondered.

Skillfully turning without allowing him the slightest peek of her face she shuffled into the kitchen. Leaning further into the fridge than necessary for the pitcher of water. Standing by the corner of the kitchen entrance Sehun watched her twitchy persona.

His little sister was always bright, cunning, and full of humor. Funny.

“Here.” She placed the glass onto the polished table and turned to focus on the sink. Snatching a rag nearby and started scrubbing the shiny two-sided sink without wetting the towel.

Sehun observed the empty dish rack. All the dishes used for breakfast dried and stocked in the cupboards. Eyeing the shiny black kitchen table surrounded with matching chairs. One of them a mismatched tan cushioned chair.

Quietly stepping toward her he touched her shoulder. Hayoung immediately flinched and flew to the side. Accidentally swerving in the process enough for him to see the vicious cut between her eyes. She hurriedly swirled around, embarrassed.

“It’s not a good time, Sehun. You should go.” There was a tremor in her voice. Standing by the corner of the counter she seemed to shrink into it.

“Let me see your arm.” He instructed coolly, gently.

She wrapped a hand around her arm, as if to protect herself.

“Hayoung.” He called more determinedly.

“Just go!” she shouted. “Why did you come?!”

Snagging her big sleeve, he gripped onto her wrist forcefully making her turn. Hayoung winced with a scream struggling with him. Hurting herself more in the process. Finally managing to slide up the sleeve a quarter of the way. Revealing splotches of dark bruises all the way up. A faded blue of discolored skin went around her wrist like some bracelet.

Hayoung pulled back with a cry. Pulling down the sleeve. Her eyes scampered around the kitchen like she might be able to find escape.

“What’s going on?” Sehun questioned. His heart shook. Anger flashed through him. “Did the bastard hit you?”

“No.” she was fast to answer. Shaking her head, “Please, Sehun. Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Distinct fear crossed her quavering eyes. Instantly his heart pained for the little sister he had grown up with. And he wanted to beat the out of Doyoon.

Hayoung was supposed to be living the god tiered life. She was supposed to have it all. She had become the star in his family. She had done what had been impossible for him. Instead her starry skies had crashed on her, only for her to be like this?!

He was furious!

“No,” he angrily said. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Grabbing her hand, he dragged her to the door. She pulled back with all her might. “No! Please!” Sobbing manically, “Don’t! Please!”

Reaching the door, he whirled around to scream into her face, “I’m not leaving you with that piece of ! Put your shoes on. We’re leaving right now.”

She cried as he tugged her all the way down the hall into the elevator. Covering her face as she cowered into the wall.

“I can’t leave. Doyoon’s going to get angry,” Hayoung whimpered. “I need to go home. Sehun, please, where are we going?”

“To mom and dad’s,” he muttered. “You’re going to leave him.”

***Yes, Hayoung is experiencing domestic violence. @CarliCarib how did you read my mind? Did I make it too obvious? 

***A lot of family related issues surround the story. Like I said, I planned for it before I started the story. To tackle problems I've seen relevant around me. A lot of domestic deaths have come to light recently this past year, although it's always been around, but in my culture the news has been hitting really loudly lately and people are trying to make a difference. In here, you will hear the obvious trend "Go back home and be patient" before the worst does come. And yes, Sehun & Namjoo's parents are a big part of the problem. Parental standards are always too high when it comes to one's kids. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's heard of a mother-in-law who doesn't like her daughter-in-law, right?

***I'll answer it in case bc I'm not going into detail about Hayoung's life. Doyoon threw the chair at her and she blocked it with her arms thus the bruises, the injured shoulder, and the mismatched chair.