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The days were long. Namjoo was miserable. She was heartbroken. Devastated. Very lonely.

Everywhere she looked she could see Sehun walking around her space. He was standing in her kitchen with her. Right next to her in the shower, a space so small they always touched. Sometimes she could smell him in her bed, so she always turned away from the empty bedside. Sometimes she curled up and cried.

Then she would wake up the next day and walk into work. Entering a world of masked happiness until the day ended and she returned to a desolate apartment. Where no phone call would come through for her. She wouldn’t hear the voice she longed for on the other end. And then she became sad again.

She shouldn’t have.

She should have held out.

But Namjoo didn’t know.

It would have been better if Sehun cheated on her rather than lied. It would lessen the weight of understanding she wasn’t enough of a woman for him than wondering why the lie he couldn’t explain.

That would have hurt less. But Namjoo never got an answer to why.

She achingly hung on. Stuck somewhere between yearning to know and moving on.

Only, she did not move on.

She had become as much a liar as Sehun. Pretending to be happy. Show off she was a young woman embarking on a dream career. She no longer lived with her parents. She was independent and had no boy troubles.

To strut around like that, how much of a liar she needed to be. When she wondered if Sehun might call someday and ask to get back with her. He would tell her the three words she should have heard that last day. Sorry I lied; I’ll tell you why.

It didn’t get any better than the imaginary dialogues she wrote in her head. Sehun did not call her. Probably hooked onto another younger, more naïve woman. Yet the thought of that made her eyes burn with tears. Sehun didn’t need to move on so fast just because she broke up with him.

Namjoo truly wasn’t prepared to cut off that string that tied them together. Also did not have the courage to pick up the phone and call him. Just to ask how are you doing? Maybe, just maybe, she might tell him she missed him and was having a hard time.

She didn’t do it.

That would just be against the whole point of having walked away.

“Meeting in five,” a voice called out.

Namjoo lifted her head from the road she’d been staring at all morning. “Oh…” Leaning her head back against her fist, she sighed.

The streets were clogged with people. The man in a casual tee was probably a single man who was scheduled off work today. A young girl in school uniform who had most likely jumped over the school fence skipped down the sidewalk adjusting her backpack over her shoulder. Around the corner of 7Eleven she dashed into an older boy’s arms. He wasn’t in uniform but wearing low end fashionable street wear. The mix and matched couple received a stare from a woman exiting the store, a steaming cup of instant coffee in her delicate hand.

A police car raced down the street veering between vehicles with its sirens whirring. The noise indicating a nightmare had occurred somewhere in the city to unlucky occupants. Namjoo sighed, finally pushing herself up. Snatching a binder of designs she’d sketched the first day she headed toward the conference room.

A quarter of the way her mobile phone went off. Pausing, Namjoo searched her pants pocket as her ID tag swished back and forth across her front. An unknown number flashed on the screen.

Hitting ‘answer’ Namjoo pressed the phone to her ear, “Hello?”

“May I ask who this is?” it was a woman.

Irritation crept to the fore. Why the hell was she getting a call from a person who had the audacity to ask her that?

“If this is a telemarketing call, I am not interested.” Namjoo was ready to hit ‘end’ and hang up.

“I am calling from the emergency room, ma’am,” the female voice turned stern. “May I ask who this is?”

Alarm ticked inside her head. “I’m Kim Namjoo. Why am I getting this call?”

“Miss Kim, I am calling regarding an individual Oh Sehun.”

Something snapped inside Namjoo and she felt anger arising. Now of all times! “If he’s been in an accident, it’s best you call his immediate family. I have a conference right now and don’t have time.”

“You are the only one in his contacts. Now please,” her tone became stricter, “it is important you come. He will need someone to be with him.”

The earlier police sirens wailed through Namjoo’s head as she dropped everything and raced down the streets to the hospital emergency room. The lingering smell of death and life assaulted her the moment she pushed her way down the winding hallway. Following one sign to another. Turning into a twisting hallway that intersected into another like a horrendous maze.

Heart monitors beeped around her when she arrived at her destination. In the center of the room she spotted a circular desk. Her main point of information. Currently the two nurses behind the pastel pink counter was consulting with other civilians. Namjoo impatiently waited, gaze searching the closed curtains around her. Some of them open and revealing the injured and sick on brittle hospital beds.

“May I help you?” one of the nurses in pale green uniform called out.

Leaping forward, Namjoo inquired, “I’m here for Oh Sehun. Where is he?”

With a pen, the nurse pointed toward an isolated bed at the far end of the room. Namjoo followed the black point instrument and nodded.

“The doctor will be around shortly,” the nurse finished explaining when Namjoo wheeled away unhearing the rest.

Her heart drummed into her ribs. Throat constricting tightly. The entire emergency room fogged up and she was in a misty dream. Body immensely light as a feather but her feet touched ground. Time had turned into particles visible to the eye. Drifting so slowly it felt like forever.

Reaching the dark patterned curtain Namjoo stepped through. A hand flying to as she gasped.

Sehun sickeningly pale and skinnier than she remembered from last week. Her eyes flooded with tears. Turning away she breathed a sob.

When he didn’t show up for a board meeting, an overly concerned manager had gone to look for him. He was unresponsive and on the floor of his office. EMTs had been called immediately. The team of uniformed man racing into the work building carrying in a stretcher was such a sight, the work body immediately evacuated the elevator for them. At discovery of his faint pulse the ambulance raced him to the hospital where doctors tirelessly pumped his stomach.

Sehun had overdosed.

Sliding over into the available seat Namjoo’s hand tremored as she reached for his. The first time her fingers brushed his skin she nearly withdrew. Afraid her touch would rip his skin apart. Then more firmly and a little desperately she gripped his hand, crying.

That Sehun would go to this length because of her, Namjoo had never imagined. Maybe she should have called earlier. Perhaps that would have made a difference in his life. Her life.

The monitor beeped signaling a healthy heart beat. He was still alive. Thank god.

Squeezing her eyes Namjoo repeated a prayer. Quickly lifting her head up when his fingers twitched.

Sehun was up.

Sehun was awake.

Slowly coming to, Sehun stared up at the lights. Dove his eyes toward the heart monitor. At her. Namjoo’s lips peeled apart suddenly stupefied. No word came to mind. She just stared back into those familiar brown eyes. Taking in the sight of this fatigued man with drooping eyebags. The tears continued to drop.

Sehun’s gaze first searched her. Noticing the ID badge around her neck. His voice croaked, “You were busy.”

“No. No, I wasn’t,” Namjoo immediately lied. “Are you ok?”

He just compressed his lips and stared up at the ceiling lights. She worried what was going through his mind. If he was upset that he had intended to take his life but failed.

“Sehun,” she softly called, “say something.”

“You don’t love me, do you?” Sehun asked. The broken tone of his quiet voice worked a knife into her heart. Shattering her when he pulled his hand out of her grasp, as if he was entirely removing himself from her.

“Sehun…”

“Go away.” he looked at the corner where the curtain met the wall. “Leave me alone.”

“You shouldn’t be alone.” Namjoo said. “At least let me stay with you.”

“Don’t be noble with me.” Sehun told her off.

The curtain rustled breaking off their impending argument and an elder man appeared. Quickly wiping away tears, Namjoo stood.

“Hi,” he greeted both her and Sehun. “How are you feeling?”

“Alive. Great.” Namjoo had never witnessed Sehun with such morbid humor it was condemning.

Remaining positive, the doctor neutrally explained about Sehun’s condition. A test found he had low blood count linking it to fatigue and weakness. He would be put into an observation ward, a section of the psychiatry department, and released during the weekend once he started feeling better.

“To be cautious, of course,” the doctor added. Meaning in the case Sehun self-harmed again, there would be immediate help.

“I’ll come visit you,” Namjoo promised. Because Sehun wasn’t a minor he didn’t require an accompaniment. He didn’t offer anything when she left. He was just broken, stubborn, and unable to look at her. The guilt killed her.

The first visit, they sat quietly. Sehun didn’t respond to her. He just sat there watching TV, flipping through the hospital channels. Acting the entire day as if he was alone and she wasn’t there.

Namjoo patiently offered him her homecooked meal. It sat on his beside table untouched. She sat with him late into the evening until visitors were no longer permitted. Deeming the presence of a body was better than having no one.

“I’ll cook you something better tomorrow,” Namjoo promised. Glancing at the food on the table he’d yet to touch, “I’ll leave it there for you in case you get hungry in the middle of the night.” One look at Sehun’s lonely form on the bed made her heart ache.

“Goodnight.” She called out and lingered in the doorway. Kind of hoping he would say it back. Like he used to.

Silence.

Chanting to herself to stay strong, Namjoo made the walk down the empty corridor. To home. To bed. Where her entire existence felt lost and confined.

When she returned the next day the container of food she’d packed the day previous was empty. Glee spread across her face. A high she hadn’t experienced for weeks blast like a shockwave through her. Smiling eagerly, she stepped into the room clutching today’s meal closely.

Sitting quietly on the bed Sehun looked at her then dashed his eyes away. She didn’t expect him to readily speak with her. She would let him take his time. If he didn’t want to forgive her for hurting him, she understood.

Glancing at the dead television, she picked up the remote from the cubby beneath. “Is nothing good on?”

Quiet voices filtered through the hospital room. Transitioning into a backdrop when she replaced the remote and turned around. Sehun was unmoving.

“I brought beef and broccoli today,” Namjoo explained. Peeling open the cover she went on, “You lost a little weight, so more proteins in your diet will be good for you.”

Digging into her purse she pulled out a silver spoon she’d wrapped in blue napkin. Placing it beside the new container Namjoo waited for him to accept her token.

“Well, if you already ate,” Namjoo started, “you can also save it for later or if you feel better, eat it when I’m not around.”

Namjoo remained glued to the bedside appearing like an anxious little girl waiting for her home economics teacher to pass her homemade cake.

“Do you want to sit?” Sehun asked. After what seemed like many days of hearing herself talk this felt like the first droplet of rain during a drought.

Hurriedly plopping down Namjoo sat careful to leave some space between them. She didn’t want to edge into his personal bubble and ruin her chances. The entirety of the day she watched TV while feeling Sehun nearby.

For lunch he finally picked up the spoon and ate her homemade meal. Namjoo stayed until late afternoon before packing up to leave. There was an important presentation she needed to attend in the morning, but right afterwards she would return. Aiming to spend as much time with Sehun as possible until he was released.

Truly Namjoo had no idea what might happen when he left the hospital. There was nothing between then anymore. She would never know when he was exhausted from work. Whether he would be ok. If he was taking care of his health. Who his friends were?

Did he have anyone to go to in times of darkness?

“I have a meeting tomorrow,” Namjoo said picking up her food containers. “I’ll be a little late, but I’ll bring you something.” Once a step into the hallway, Namjoo couldn’t help turning around. “Take care, ok?”

Offering a weak smile, Namjoo pivoted to leave. And then, “Goodnight, Namjoo.”

Spinning around Namjoo’s heart leapt, but Sehun turned to avoid her gaze. Tilting his head slightly he stared at his feet.

Smiling, Namjoo quietly said, “Goodnight, Sehun.”

When she washed that night, she cried a little but she smiled more out of relief. Sehun didn’t wholly loathe her. Though he was quieter and sullen he was on the road to recovery. Sehun was definitely going to get better.

It washed the fear that she had completely damaged him away.

Feeling 100% happier the following day, Namjoo drove to work prepared to wade her way through the day. During the meeting her attention melted away. Debating what things she’d talk to Sehun about later. If he’d be interested in having a conversation with her.

The corner of her lips lifted recalling days they bickered back and forth. Sehun actively teasing her, always. Acting like he had the whole world in his hands whenever his eyes lay on her.

Sehun had been so charming. The ever-confident man waiting for her at every corner, her beck and call. Willing to cut his business trips short just to return and see her. Endlessly making her heart pitter patter around him.

Namjoo could hear his laughter ricocheting in her head. Of times when he pulled silly antics with her. Embarrassing her at the end of each interval that she always went red in the face. And she remembered the first time he nonchalantly said, “I love you.” but she hadn’t been ready to tell him she felt the same.

Now she was in some sort of predicament she’d never seen coming.

Sehun leaving her for good.

On the way to the hospital, Namjoo didn’t know where to first begin. Ask him if he’d like to get back together. She would do better than hurt him again. Sorry because she missed him, too. Did that make her sound horrible?

The hospital building loomed over her. Parking her car Namjoo entered the hospital she knew as well as the back of her hand and rode the elevator up to the psychiatric ward. Today, would Sehun be willing to talk to her?

The bed was filled with creases when she arrived. Searching she heard water running behind a closed door. Sehun was in the bathroom. Setting the bag of food she’d bought along the way she looked around. The TV was off. Sun shone through a side window. Outside, a view of generous backwoods flourished across the land. A sad room for a psychiatric ward whose sole purpose was healing.

Back to the bedside table, Namjoo spotted Sehun’s mobile. One look at the bathroom and it sounded like Sehun wasn’t finished yet. Picking up the phone Namjoo unlocked the password. Thinking of what the nurse had told her when she first received the call Sehun was in the hospital and needed someone.

A picture of her was still on his background. Taken of her at the beach when she’d been eating the snow cone. The memory hitting her full force. Kissing him in the doorway of the shop brazenly. Uncaring how many people saw them. It was the first time she initiated a kiss with him.

A few buttons later and she was looking through his contact list. There was no side button that let her scroll through various accounts. A mere screen stared back at her. One name: Mine.

Not her name. Just Mine.

Something punched her in the guts. Namjoo looked up when the bathroom door clicked open and Sehun halted when he saw her. His eyes first cut to the phone in her hand then slid away. As if caught red-handed, he didn’t say anything.

“Where’s your mom and dad?” Namjoo asked what she’d always been wanting to know.

Sehun didn’t say.

“Your brothers?” Namjoo pressed.

His head lowered like his silence was all he had to offer. Namjoo didn’t want to go through this again.

“Why am I the only one in here?” Namjoo questioned. “Sehun.”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Sehun resembled a beaten boy who’d suffered one too many strikes. Dew dripped from his damp hair. Again, he refused to meet her eyes like he feared she would see everything there.

“If I tell you, it’ll be all you see when you look at me.”

It hit her it was everything he had locked up from her. A singular world of his. It was what had led them here. Why she was in such a wrong place with him.

“I want to know.” Namjoo said. She would never forget the way he looked at her as she forced him to spill every detail of his past.

***I didn't know if I should put trigger warning for the mention of suicide in case anyone is sensitive about that topic, but I have also personally experienced something like that so I think writing something about it deserves to be mentioned since it does happen often.

***Namjoo be making so many clouded mistakes here

***Anyway, double update since all I did today was write :DDD but since my heart hurts because of the angst I shall go watch my murder documentaries now and eat until tomorrow!