They didn’t hug before heading back. When he thought about it many times, he should have.

His father glared at them when they walked back in. Holding hands.

“In my office now,” he ordered then turned around to disappear behind a darkly polished door.

Namjoo was first to relinquish his hand.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“My room,” Namjoo answered clutching her hands together.

“Ok…” he breathed, resigned. She could wait for him. They could sit down and talk even if his father breathed smoke down under his shirt as he stood by.

Turning around he entered his father’s office. Already behind his desk the taller, thicker, brusque man tossed a magazine onto the desk. The cover consisted of happy students plastered across the front. Behind them a tall stone tower. Another building stretching into the background with a grand campus of luscious grass in the forefront.

“Go study abroad,” his father declared no longer sounding irate, but authoritative.

“I don’t want to.” Jongin refused.

“I already started the process for you,” his father told. “By the time you graduate you’re leaving Korea.”

“Dad!”

“Do it!” The old man grinded his teeth. “And you’ll never see her again. Do you hear me?”

“I won’t go. I won’t!”

His father slammed both hands onto his desk. The sound reverberated loudly throughout his small organized office.

Jongin stiffened, but his will was also stead strong. He wouldn’t leave Namjoo. Not even a thousand miles apart would make him forget her.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jongin asked helplessly. “Why do you hate Namjoo? She hasn’t done anything to you.”

Walking around his desk so that they were face to face, his father grasped his arms. Jongin just had a few inches more to grow then he’d be taller than the old man. How much longer would that take, Jongin wondered, to become more formidable than his dad?

“You need to broaden your horizons, son,” his father gently said. “Go and see the world and you’ll see how vast it is. It doesn’t revolve around one person. You think you like her now, but that’s because you don’t know anyone else.”

“I don’t want to go,” Jongin shook his head. “I want to study here.”

“No!” Voice firmer. “I will not allow you to stay here after graduation. After they leave our family, don’t talk to her again.”

“You don’t even know her!”

“I know!” His father screamed into his face. “And you deserve much more than that little girl. You’re my son, Jongin. You have a better future out there than here.”

Tears prickled his eyes. It wasn’t fair.

This couldn’t be happening.

He felt pinned into a corner.

He didn’t want to leave Namjoo behind. He had thought they could go to the same college. Join the same clubs. Sit in the library to do homework together in-between and after classes. Fall asleep at their tables and walk to their dorms together. They would have the same friends. He’d make sure their schedules matched, so that she wouldn’t have to linger around and wait for his class to end. Have their first taste of liquor together and he’d make sure no strange guy would take her with him. She would make him hangover soup and they’d laugh the previous night off.

They were supposed to spend more time together.

Get to know each other more.

He would watch her bud into an intelligent and beautiful woman. Be proud of her as she walked down the aisle in her cap and gown. Support her with whatever path she chose. She’d pay for their meal with her first paycheck.

Jongin had thought they could stay together long enough for that.

At least…

“I don’t want to go,” Jongin weakly told. His heart broke. “I like her dad. Please.”

His father shook his head. “I won’t ever allow it.”

⸛⸛⸛⸛⸛

The bedroom door opened once Jongin disappeared. Her mother filled the doorway with her stern face. Striding toward Namjoo she took her arm and pulled her up the stairs. Dami was standing in her doorway. Awake after hearing the earlier commotion. She looked nervous, afraid. Namjoo managed to look at her only slightly before her mother shoved her into her room and shut the door.

Namjoo turned to see her mother rummaging through her closet before throwing down her suitcase.

“Pack it!” she ordered.

“Mom…”

“You have the guts to still call me mom after running away!” she yelled so loudly Namjoo flinched. Then she circled the room frustrated. “I did all this for you,” she mumbled throwing her arms out, “and this is how you appreciate me?!”

Namjoo’s eyes lowered guiltily.

“Are you going to move?!” Her mother’s eyes bulged. “I am getting divorced, again!”

Saying that it was because she had decided to have an affair wouldn’t soothe the situation.

Hesitatingly glancing at her Namjoo quietly said, “Did you two argue?”

“Now you worry about me?!” Her mother raised her voice. “I told you to stay away from his son. I told you! Did I not?!”

“You did.” Namjoo lowered her head.

“Are you going to walk out like that?” Her mother looked at her sweats and shirt. “Pack your clothes. We’re leaving.”

Eyes widening, Namjoo shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“You what?!”

Her lips moved then formed the words, “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”

“No, you’re not.” It was a statement that left no opening. Resuming her task her mother flung the drawers open. Began tossing whatever she grabbed. Clothing landed in a pile on her suitcase.

“Mom, please,” Namjoo begged clinging onto her mother. “I don’t want to go. Please, don’t make me leave.”

Pushing her away, her mother scolded, “Why would you want to stay here?! That man just insulted you, do you not understand?!” Pivoting halfway around, her mother grabbed her arms. Both gently and sturdily. “Have some dignity, Namjoo. If a man takes everything from you, at least have your pride.”

Back tracking, Namjoo shook her head, “I don’t care. I don’t ca