The sudden thought of him made her blood boil. How dare he pity her? Between them he was the worse off!

Angrily grabbing the blanket Namjoo fluffed it before climbing under and lay on her side crossing her arms, steaming. Closing her eyes Namjoo huffed and puffed. Five minutes later the knock on the door made everything inside her chest burn.

“What?!” she snapped loudly.

The door opened just the slightest. Miss Han spoke in a standardly low voice, “Driver Oh is back.”

Namjoo’s eyes flew open.

“Would you still like to have lunch?”

Sawing her jaw back and forth Namjoo glared at the unopened window. After a minute of processing her stubborn thoughts, she sat up. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Sehun breathed relief when he finally dropped Yena off at home. Speeding off the second he made sure the gates closed behind her. He had probably turned her off with his comment in front of the lingerie store, so she’d tried abetting him into sharing a meal with her. The change of topic had been unexpected, but Sehun declined. Lost on him she gave up for the day. Pouting the rest of the time.

Now he was wondering if she might tattle to Jineol and get him in trouble. He’d have to face Jineol tomorrow if not Monday. Sehun wondered what might be in store for him.

Yena was more of a handful than he had expected. Being curt and short with her today had probably wounded her young ego.

Thinking about it Sehun was confident he’d get an earful from Jineol. That couldn’t be any worse than getting a threat about being fired, right?

He almost regretted being an when he pulled up into the garage and parked. Climbing out of the car he glanced at the side yard noticing several leaves scattered around the flower bed. Curious he rounded the manor to peer at the garden. Surely, he hadn’t touched the garden since morning. No one else was assigned to the garden but him.

Surprise imminently filled him at the thought of Namjoo putting her hands on the garden. First of all, he’d never seen her lifting her hands to work in or around the house. Wouldn’t that be shocking.

Twisting his wrist again he glanced at his watch. It was just a little past noon. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt he started toward the house. He heard movement and plates clattering when he entered the foyer. Closing in he noticed housekeepers hovering over the dining table.

Noticing him, Miss Han nodded in greeting.

“Did the Madam already eat?” Sehun wondered.

“She wasn’t interested in eating,” Miss Han answered.

Wow, he knew it. She was skipping another meal.

“Where is she?” Sehun asked.

“She’s taking a rest.”

He wondered if she’d taken some of those pills instead or maybe her alcoholic drinks filled her piteous stomach.

“Can you go get her? Tell her I’m back.” Realizing he sounded like he was making orders, he corrected, “Would you go wake her, please?”

He could sense Miss Han’s lingering interest, but she said nothing as she spun on her heels and went down the hall. God, it was suddenly warmer in the house. Plastering a hand to his neck he looked at the table to see the housekeepers still cleaning up.

“Uh…don’t put them away yet.” Sehun spoke up. The ladies paused and looked at him. Anxious he excused with doubt, “The Madam will be here.”

The housekeepers shared a look before replacing the dishes in their hands on the table. Their heads immediately swiveled, eyes inching wider, and then immediately bowed their heads. Sehun blinked uncertain about what just took place. Then he peered over his shoulder and turned when he saw Namjoo appearing in the hall. Miss Han several steps behind her with hands politely clasped in front of her.

Namjoo looked mean as hell. Without bothering to say anything she passed him and pulled out her chair, making herself very comfortable. Miss Han bowed her head and gracefully shuffled away, leaving them alone.

Sehun sat down to her spiteful, “Aren’t you just looking your best.”

On his way here he hadn’t stopped to change. “I thought I should dress appropriately if I don’t want to embarrass my boss.”

“Oh?” Namjoo remarked. “So it wasn’t for the date?”

Sehun tried not to let the irritation sneak into his expression. “Did you touch the garden?”

“It’s mine, why can’t I?” Namjoo butted.

“Are you always this crabby?” Sehun asked.

Namjoo scoffed. Her expression skewed. What had gotten into her while he was gone? She appeared to be holding back the worst of it.

“Then you shouldn’t be here.” Her tone implied he was better off digging dirt.

He argued with, “I saw that the table was set.”

Namjoo’s jaw stiffened. She protested, “That was not an invitation for you.”

“Oh,” he raised a brow, “did I imply it was an invitation for me?” Namjoo bit down on her teeth clearly aggravated by him. “I walked in and saw food on the table. And,” he made a show of looking at his watch, “it’s a little past noon, but still lunch regardless.”

Namjoo flatly stared at him. “You think this is funny.”

“Yea,” he used the same tone, “it humors me. The Madam of the house is high in over her head she chases her tail rather than come straight out with what she really wants.”

The heat in her eyes intensified. She was really in a bad mood.

“Did Miss Yena enjoy her date?” Namjoo didn’t bother disguising the contempt for the girl. He pondered over whether it was the girl grinding her nerves or if he’d done wrong by showing up. All he’d done was follow their orders.

“Miss Yena,” he mimicked her, “is probably disappointed.”

The mood in Namjoo’s eyes shifted somewhat. Lightening, she finally seemed interested. “Define disappointed.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised she was snooping now. Focusing on his food he muttered, “I couldn’t pretend being interested even if my life depended on it.”

This time Namjoo scoffed entertained.

“That’s funny?” he asked. She sure loved stepping on Yena, but supposing Namjoo had morale compared to that girl Sehun wouldn’t think any less.

Namjoo waved him off without explaining. “That’s nothing.”

“What’s nothing?”

Dropping her arm onto the table Namjoo said, “That girl will hardly let that bother her. My not so subtle attempts to send her away hasn’t deterred her, why would you?”

“What attempts?” Sehun asked.

“You don’t need to know.”

He frowned. Pretty certain Namjoo could go over and beyond, but how and what?

Changing the topic, he said, “I wasn’t aware you touch the garden.”

“I planted the garden.”

Sehun pictured the wide garden wrapping around the house. Unable to contemplate the truth of it. “All of it?”

“I said it’s my garden.” Namjoo repeated like he was stupid.

“For some reason, I just can’t imagine that.”

“Well,” Namjoo gave him a smug smile, “surprise.”

He eyed her unbelieving. “Is it the accident?”

The meanness flickered back into Namjoo’s eyes.

That was it, he decided, what changed everything for her. The car accident that led to Namjoo’s downfall, her unwillingness to walk that sprung her into the inability to cope when Jineol began cheating on her, and thus her reliance on abusing her medication. Namjoo felt chased into a corner and was digging an illusionary way out.

She had given up everything but the fight for Jineol’s inexistent love.

She was truly pitiful.

“If you started the garden you should be the one caring for it,” Sehun said. Flowers were therapeutic. Namjoo must have had hope at some point in her life if she had wanted to start something, but she hadn’t seen it all the way through. She’d just thrown the garden at someone else.

Namjoo sawed the meat on her plate and calmly stuck the broken piece into . Setting her fork and butter knife down and chewed slowly. Sternly looking at him, she warned, “Don’t lecture me.”

“Do you want to know what I learned in prison?” Sehun asked. He didn’t wait before saying, “The best defense is an offense.”

Namjoo’s brows continue to hang over her glare. Sehun really thought she’d lunge across the table to wrap her hands around his neck.

“Aren’t you two cozy.” A voice interrupted the unwarranted tension. Sehun turned just as Jineol rounded the table, pulled the chair at the head of the table out, and sat. Breathing deeply, he called out, “Bring me a plate.” Looking at the food filled table, he commented, “This looks delicious.” Turning to his wife, “I’m surprised you’re eating lunch again.”

Switching on a sweet pretentious smile, Namjoo said, “I just finished. Enjoy your meal.”

Uncertainty hung over him as Namjoo walked away from the table. She’d barely finished her steak.

“So,” Jineol began, “how was Yena today?”

Instead of bothering to care about his wife he’d thought about the mistress instead. Was Sehun surprised? He couldn’t say so.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Namjoo couldn’t stand it. Sehun belittling her. Pretending he could evaluate and see everything underlying her.

Who was he anyway?!

Grabbing her pillow, she swung it across the bed. She just disliked him more.

When the door opened, she gripped the corners of the pillows into her fists. Jineol spoke, “You two are getting along quite well.”

He was tugging his tie loose when she glanced at him. “Must be your imagination.”

“It’d be nice for you to have a friend.”

So you can date behind my back? Namjoo angrily thought. Namjoo pulled on a smile. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes,” Jineol looked at her. “You’re home all day. It must be quite stressful.”

“Oh, so you suddenly think it’s stressful?” Namjoo let go of the pillow. “It’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“What did I say?” Jineol frowned. Accusing her, “Don’t get upset with me. I was just making a suggestion.”

“I don’t need you to think for me.” Namjoo argued.

“I give up.” Jineol finally tugged his tie loose. “I can never get through to you.”

As he walked toward the bathroom, Namjoo spat, “You’ve ever thought about me anyway.”

Halting a step before the bathroom Jineol looked at her, a dark gleam bounced around in his eyes. a breath Namjoo glared then stomped out of the room slamming the door after her.

She couldn’t stand this. Everything inside her head seemed to be choking her. It was like she couldn’t manage to claw her way outside. Not even the outdoors or the fresh breeze could distill the madness wrapping its talons around .

Angrily raiding the kitchen, she threw out wine bottle after wine bottle. Listening to the heavy glass land on the floor and roll, clinking against each other. Until it felt like she’d done enough damage that she finally stopped and knelt on the floor, planting her forehead against the side drawer.

Some days she didn’t know what was wrong with her. She just rampaged for no particular reason. Like today of all days.

Yes, she thought. Maybe it was she, the problem. Perhaps being too problematic caused Jineol to seek better times.

Abandoning the mess she’d made she moved on autopilot. Down the foyer, out the doors, across the yard; unseeing and unthinking. Breaking back into the tool shed past the rows of shelves consisting of various tools. The smell of dirt, steel, and oil stung her nose. Namjoo pushed away several rakes and snow shovels. Stepping beyond six-foot metal shelves stocked with paint buckets, brushes, paint rollers, manuals, tool baskets, bags of soil, and many more junks.

At the end she finally saw what she’d stored away. The black standard wheelchair. What had bruised and also consoled her for half a year. The seat was dusty but it was otherwise clean. Swiping the dust away with a hand Namjoo dropped into the seat. Running her hands over the arms like she was caressing a baby’s cheeks she hung her head back and closed her eyes. Seeing days when she’d sat in front of the window, witnessing sunlight beaming over the forest trees. Green leaves dancing, wild bunnies frolicking, and butterflies passing the window.

Days when she’d still been in the dark about Jineol’s betrayal. Yet those days she’d truly been in a mid-dimension of peaceful acceptance that her life had become like this. It could have stayed that way and cluelessness would have brought about happiness.

Sighing, Namjoo thought about the window again. Instead of the bunnies she spotted a flash of white in the dark of the woods. Instantly surprised, she leaned forward in the wheelchair eagerly moving closer for a peek. A white deer calmly poked its head out from the gap of the trees, arcing its fragile neck for a patch of grass. When its head rose again its doe black eyes looked straight at her. Instead of staring back Namjoo jolted, her neck snapping up.

Breathing a quiet moan, she pressed a hand to her eyes. Recognizing too late the sound of something rolling across the floor. The sound of footsteps made her drop her hand and she looked past the shelves.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

Holding his palms up like he was under arrest, Sehun materialized around the corner. “It’s just me.”

Frowning at him, Namjoo asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you?” Sehun returned the question. He eyeballed her then the wheelchair.

“Shut up,” Namjoo immediately said.

“I don’t think I said anything to reckon you telling me that.” Sehun said dropping his hands.

Her frown increased. She felt flustered for being discovered like an idiot. “I just fell asleep.”

He looked up then around. “Strange place to sleep in.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“I wasn’t aware you were fishing for one.” He pointedly said.

Biting down on her teeth, Namjoo twisted her expression. He was constantly irritable for trying to outwit her all the time. Did he enjoy it that much?!

Namjoo pressed herself into the chair when Sehun walked toward the wheelchair. “What are you doing?” she fumbled for a grasp on the armrests when she jolted forward in the chair.

“For a ride.” He grabbed the handles and pushed her forward.

“I didn’t –” She planted her back into the wheelchair and her feet automatically landed on the footplates. “I said stop it, you!”

“Lighten up.” He said.

Namjoo yelped when the wheels went over a bump. “I’m going to fire you!”

They burst outside into the light of the sun. White clouds rolled across the blue overcast sky brightening up the shade she’d been hiding in. Namjoo squeezed her eyes shut when the warm breeze hit her face, afraid. Not sure why.

When she opened her eyes, the world seemed to whish past her. The green lawn stretched around her. Majority of the open sky filled her view. Wind blast into her face blowing her hair off her shoulders when Sehun picked up speed.

The thrill of it brought an unexpected burst of laughter out of her when the wheels landed on solid concrete, smoothing out the ride. Excitement churned through her, blazing right through her body.

The ugliness of the day’s earlier bout suddenly faded from mind and Namjoo let out a whoop of joy, tilting her head back to laugh.

Never, not once had anyone made a ride in the wheelchair fun. Always a slow, arduous ride until she was planted in front of the window in her room until someone came for her. Pushing her slowly toward the dinner table, to the bath, to bed, and again to the window in the morning.

She had been a prisoner in the wheelchair. She had given up here. Until Jineol drove a hammer through her heart.

Sehun drove her in a circle around the wide driveway. Rounding it once more until she faced the doorway where Jineol stood on the steps. Namjoo’s chest bobbed as she caught her breath. At her back Sehun panted.

The gust of wind went around once more. Shooting past her fast causing her to blink the short sting of it away. She saw Jineol scoff in disbelief at her. Other than coming off as upset Namjoo noticed his new change of clothes. The keys dangling in his hands.

He was going out.

The driver wasn’t waiting on him, so it meant he was leaving on private business. To where? To that ?

Guilt punched her guts for egging him earlier for an argument just because she’d felt nasty. She hated herself.

“You’re right,” Jineol jeered, “you’re not stressed at all.”

The anguish that blast through her was insurmountable when Jineol stepped off the front stoop toward his car. He didn’t look back once as he got into the vehicle and drove away.

***d'aw, Sehun felt guilty for running late for lunch and then cutting her lunch short by getting on her nerves but he made her laugh so... and Namjoo is having one hell of a day. Starting problems and ending with more problems for herself

***There's a legend about a white deer I read about in one of John Hart's Down River. If you dream about seeing a white deer it symbolically represents a sense of renewel; that you can overcome all odds