⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

“Wasn’t that Kihoon’s dad?” Eunkyung wondered in a low voice when they left. “Is that his girlfriend?”

Namjoo just smiled. Over her shoulder Junhee shook his head for her not to ask. Sealing her lips, Eunkyung returned to her spot by the register. Namjoo went back to the oven where she was baking pastries. Gone quiet, because she didn’t know what to think.

Sehun hung on her mind like a disease.

Sehun.

Seol.

Were they really dating?

Would she ever date again?

Namjoo didn’t know.

She couldn’t think about it. Imagining herself holding hands with another man. The picture was foggy in her head. Would she want to be intimate with another person?

Will Sehun be the first to go? Date again. Get married again. Possibly, have another child.

The thing was, it wasn’t difficult to see him with Seol. They must see each other every day at work. Seol was a beautiful woman. Even her male customers noticed her.

If Sehun wanted her, who was she to say no?

They were divorced.

She was the one who had asked. Positive there would be no regrets leaving that kind of life.

“Sehun should have just married that girl,” his mother always muttered around her. To always lower her esteem. Make her guilty. Tell her to her face she wasn’t good enough and no matter how hard she tried; she would never reach their standards.

Who that girl was, Namjoo never asked.

Hearing that constantly was more tiring than a person thought. Namjoo had felt like a hard rock worn down by the onslaught of eggs. Too many of them and eventually you break.

It had been even harder because of her postpartum depression. In those early days after giving birth the only kind soul she knew was that of Sehun. There for her thirty minutes in the morning and late in the evening when he came home. Hiding behind him. Seeking comfort beside him. Snuggling up to him in his sleep whenever Kihoon finally stopped wailing.

He had been her solace.

Her only haven from the rough sleet and winds.

The husband exhausted from work. Driving around in his car to meet clients and returning to the office to meet urgent deadlines. Rushing everywhere through his hectic life for her and Kihoon. Tending to the crying baby at night because she was beat. If his mother irritated, she’d come stomping down the hall muttering what incapable parents they were. Then she’d take Kihoon with her into her room and lull him to sleep.

It had been very hard for them.

When he was gone during the day and she was left with his mother she sometimes cried alone in the bathroom. Hugging Kihoon closely because she was pretending to bathe him.

She never saw her parents until Kihoon e, and when she saw them for the first time, she cried very hard in her mother’s arms. The both of them alone in the women’s restroom. That was on his birthday.

“Why are you so thin?” her mother had cried. Cradling her face in her hands. “What happened?”

But Namjoo couldn’t tell her mom what she had been going through. Those ordeals were hers, because she had chosen to give birth to Kihoon.

Memories are demons.

“The bread is burning.” Junhee called out.

Turning around into a waft of smoke Namjoo panicked. Pulling the oven door open on instinct she reached inside. Yelping when her hand burned.

“Eunkyung!” Junhee screamed. Moving her aside he reached inside with oven mittens. Revealing burnt bread that stung their nostrils.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Eunkyung coughed and covered .

“Take the boss to run her hands under cold water.” He instructed. Enunciating, “Right now.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Namjoo promised. Waving the girl off as she found her way to the bathroom. Her mind a mix of this and that. She wanted to be alone.

Entering the bathroom Namjoo turned the faucet on. Hissing when she ran her right hand under water. Utterly red. Kind of raw. A bit of peeled skin. Nothing that would kill her.

Sighing she knocked her head against the mirror.

She had steeled herself to face life head on when she divorced Sehun. Why was she coming to this?

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

“Ahhh…” Seol sighed leaning back into her chair at the stop light. Wrapping her arms around the headrest. “Then that means I have no hope.”

He said nothing, but he wasn’t looking out the window anymore. He was staring out the windshield because they were trapped in traffic. On his right was a bearded man smoking out his window and Sehun didn’t want to make eye contact.

“I told her,” Seol confessed, “about the picture in your wallet.”

“She didn’t know about the picture.”

“Oops,” she playfully grinned, “I guess I gave you away.”

Sehun smiled because she was trying hard to cheer him up.

“Your friend ever pull your sweats down in front of the girls?” Seol asked. “And your crush so happens to be there? Every day after that you try to explain to her it was a joke, but each time you do you can’t look her in the eyes. Then each time it gets more awkward when you try to talk to her. So in the end, you never do explain to her that it was a dumb prank by your friend.”

His brows twined together and peered at her through the corner of his eyes. Unable to fathom that she’d just said that. “No.”

“It’s never happened to me either,” she clarified, “but I’m saying, the longer you hold out the harder it gets.”

When he didn’t say anything, she hit his arm like they’d always been friends.

“You know what I’m saying?” she asked.

“You hit hard,” he mumbled rubbing his arm.

“The problem won’t fix itself,” Seol advised. “You carry around her picture in your wallet, Sehun. Do something.” She shrugged. “Ask her to dinner or ask if she’d like to go on a walk. If you need a sitter, I’m all right with kids. Just saying.”

When they returned, Seol waved to him as they split up toward their desks. Settling into his chair he brought his computer to life. A white screen with a half-written article popped up, but he couldn’t read any of what he’d written the hour before.

He’d never asked Namjoo to dinner, lunch, or a date. She was pregnant when they tied the knot. Their priorities had lain elsewhere. Everything had winded down upon them so fast he never considered it. Then came Kihoon. Then life.

Had Namjoo ever gone on a date before?

Had anyone ever asked her out?

Immediately he knew Namjoo’s answer. No. They could chitchat at her restaurant. She might give him a freebie cake to snack on, but Namjoo would not leave Kihoon with a woman she didn’t know and go off with him. For an hour or two it didn’t matter.

Namjoo wouldn’t do it.

He knew her. He had lived with her.

A date would never happen.

It was hopeless.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

“What happen your hand?” Kihoon innocently asked when he saw the white bandage. His lips downturned very sadly. “Mommy hurt.”

“Mommy’s ok.” She hugged him. “Don’t cry.”

Lifting him up into her arms she listened to her mom caution, “You should have been more careful. Is the burn serious?” then she called out, “Honey! Get the ointment.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Namjoo shifted Kihoon in her arms. He had instantly wrapped his tiny arm around her neck and buried his face into her shoulder. Sniffing still.

She had arrived late to pick Kihoon up. Making a quick dash and run to the pharmacy. Catching the pharmacist just as he was closing shop. Bandaging her hand amateurly in the car since she’d used a cheap extra-large bandage she dug out from somewhere in her office the entire day.

“You should take better care of yourself,” her mother chided walking with her to the door.

“It was just an accident.”

“Be more careful next time,” she warned opening the door. “Can you drive?”

“Mom,” Namjoo insisted, “my hand’s not broken.”

Giving up with a deep sigh, she said, “Get home safe.” Kissing Kihoon’s head, “Grammy see you tomorrow.” Back to her, “You should just let him stay here overnight. You should, too.”

“Good night, mom.” Ending the conversation Namjoo walked out.

However much she loved her parents she didn’t want to move back home. It was more comfortable on her own. Doing what she liked without judgement. There was no one looking over her shoulder at all times. Asking questions. Needing to know where she was going, when she was coming back. Who she was seeing.

Kihoon was asleep by the time she reached home, so she ended up carrying him inside. Wiping his drool as she laid him on her bed. Washing up quickly before retreating to her room. Reanalyzing her day. Feeling stupid over Seol and Sehun.

She shouldn’t care.

What had been going through her head that she constantly thought about them? Dating or not, at the end of the day and early in the morning Sehun still saw her.

When time came, would Sehun let her know before he moved on?

Feeling like a hypocrite Namjoo got up and dug through her drawer in the dark. Until she touched the base. Namjoo grappled for the dress she’d found the other day. Gazing at it with forlorn memories.

She finally fell asleep two hours later. The rest of that week she neither saw Sehun nor Seol. Namjoo tried not to dwell on the days gone past. Had dinner at her parents one night. Her father asking her to consider a school nearby, so the commute would be easy for Kihoon; so they could be close by in the event of an emergency. Namjoo promised to think about it. Already aware Sehun’s parents would immediately object the proposal. Why not find a school near them instead? They were the paternal grandparents. The father’s side of the family should possess the right to decision. Kihoon belonged to the Oh family. He was Sehun’s son.

The argument rang very clearly in Namjoo’s pounding head, but she didn’t tell her parents this. She just ate quietly while listening to them debate about Kihoon’s education. Which public school would be more favorable toward Kihoon’s future. Even though they tried again to persuade her to stay the night with Kihoon, she still left.

Then came Sunday morning when she would have to drop Kihoon off at his dad’s.

Namjoo had woken early. Her internal alarm disallowing her to sleep any later. Clear what Sunday meant, Namjoo just lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Honestly not prepared to face Sehun. Once the half hour waned Namjoo pushed herself up. Left with no choice, but to head there.

For an hour Namjoo let Kihoon busy himself with his box of toys in the living room. Stationed in front of the television set like usual. All the way from the bathroom she could hear him making noises, talking to himself while she straightened her hair. Wondering if she was putting in too much effort.

She could have just tucked her hair up in a bun or a lame excuse of a ponytail. No one cared. It was just Sehun, who she would see for two and a half split minutes before she departed for work.

Why was she even trying?

Staring at herself, Namjoo bit her lower lip. Noticing her faint dark circles. Annoyed that it made her look haggard.

It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t she continuously chanted to herself, but within the next hour she was digging through her makeup bag. Everything she had was outdated or near expiry. Ranging from flaky mascara to broken eye shadows and foundation gone powdery.

“Mommy,” Kihoon came running to the door. “You done?”

“Hmm? Kihoon, what is it?” she asked.

“I pee pee,” he shuffled back and forth on one foot to the other.

“Ok. Come in.” Urging him inside she helped him onto the toilet. Resuming her work as Kihoon relieved himself. She turned when he giggled.

Grinning, she asked, “What?”

“Mommy be pwetty?” he asked. “Why?”

Leaning over she teasingly tapped his nose with a finger. “For you, of course.”

Her son giggled happily. Finishing she threw the rest of her makeup back into its bag, packed for Kihoon, got dressed, and left hand in hand with him. Finally pulling up in front of Sehun’s place she pulled down the driver mirror. Giving herself one last look. Okaying herself she pushed the door open and helped Kihoon down from his seat.

He chirpily sang beside her as they rode the elevator up to Sehun’s floor. The bigger the numbers became on the screen Namjoo felt her stomach twist and cramp. Tensing while she gripped Kihoon’s hand. Regretting the moment the elevator doors hissed open. She shouldn’t have dressed herself up. Put on dumb makeup. Straightened her hair.

It was noticeable as hell. Namjoo about pushed the button to head back down, but already there was someone on the other side waiting to get in. In order not to look pathetic Namjoo left the elevator with Kihoon. Slowly making her way down the hallway. Oblivious to the emotions whirring through her.

Namjoo offered happy Kihoon a smile when she reached Sehun’s door. Cursing her luck as she reached for the bell. It was now or never. Stay a minute. Pass Kihoon over and leave. She would do just that.

Her toes curled up inside her shoes when the door clicked open. Their eyes immediately crossed. She felt him taking her in and became embarrassed.

“Sorry we came late.” She said to dismantle the shifting atmosphere.

“I miss you.” Kihoon exclaimed hugging his leg.

Putting his arm around him Sehun looked at her again.

“Oh…right.” Removing the diaper bag from her shoulder she held it out.

His eyes swung down to the noticeable bandage around her hand. An obvious moment of silence passed between them.

“It’s nothing.” Namjoo withdrew her hand. “It was an accident.”

“What’d you do?” he asked. Kihoon had already slid away. Bored by them.

“It’s…” put on the spot, Namjoo murmured, “just a minor burn.”

“You wrapped it really bad.” Sehun said. “Come in. I’ll fix it for you.”

Namjoo readily opened to retaliate, but he’d already turned away. Saying goodbye to the minute she planned to stay Namjoo sauntered inside. Closing the door behind her. There was Kihoon already in the living room digging through his chest of toys. The furniture clear of clutter. No sweater or jacket draped over the back. Sehun had just cleaned.

“Sit down.” He invited.

Spinning around Namjoo saw he had already pulled out a chair at his kitchen table. She slunk down into the hard chair and watched him pull down some medicinal ointment down from the cupboard. Sliding the next chair over he sat a width away from her. Without asking he reached for her hand.

“Did the cook wrap it for you?” he asked peeling off the bandage.

“No. I don’t want to bother them when we’re at work.” An even greater sense of embarrassment emerged when he eyed the destruction of her skin.

“You could have called me.”

“You were probably busy with work.”

“I would have made time.”

Sehun lifted his head up to look at her. Namjoo hoped her heart did not thud too hard against her ribs. That if he heard, she might as well run. Right now.

Lowering his head to focus on her hand again, he said, “Have you seen the doctor?”

“No.” she answered. “There’s no reason to. It’ll heal soon.”

“Sorry.” He apologized when she flinched as he put the medicated ointment on.

Namjoo took advantage of the moment to check him over. He was wearing comfortable clothes. Most likely he had no plans to go out today. Good news. He wouldn’t be seeing anyone. No one would be coming over. The fact stilled her heart. More than she expected.

Namjoo reverted her eyes when he finished and let her hand go. Grabbing her bag, she stood. There was no more excuse for her to stay.

“I should go.” She said. Her eyes swam from there to here when he stood, too. Nervous because he was in front of her, as if on purpose. To block her way.

“Why don’t you stay a bit?” he asked.

Her eyes slid further to the side. Catching sight of Kihoon entertaining himself. “I’m not sure. I should probably get to the restaurant.”

“I haven’t had breakfast yet.” Sehun said.

This time Namjoo looked at him.

Sehun had always worked so hard. Pulling long hours to rake in a better paycheck. For that raise in order to set more money aside to move her out of that house. She never knew when he skipped lunch. To save money. To save time in his schedule. She always knew he drove down the highway to different districts, cities, small towns, villages. Whether he took a break, any break at all.

In those days the only thing she had been able to do for him was make him a proper meal. Hoping that could compensate as some form of comfort. To root him on. Energize him. He always ate so eagerly like her dishes were the tastiest. Namjoo had scooped seconds for him all the time.

She pictured him in her customers who came daily for her food. Sharing meals with friends. Hungrily chowing down. Enjoying her menu, the food she so carefully concocted. Each meal carefully taste tested by Sehun beforehand. Nodding in approval as his eyes glowed, “I like it.”

Namjoo had always trusted his opinion.

These days she wouldn’t know if he was taking care of himself. If he came home exhausted. Went right to bed without eating. If he rushed in the morning and all he had was a cup of coffee. Did he stop in between writing to eat a snack?

“Lets eat together,” he held her eyes steady, “Namjoo.”