Namjoo was drinking a glass of water when Sehun reached the table. Jineol was currently sharing a tale of the board meeting yesterday. Both women seemed engrossed in his story.

Sehun debated where to sit. After a point second of stalling he pulled out the chair beside Yena. The head of the household might find it unusual for him to sit next to his wife. Plus, like Yena he was a guest. And he wanted to witness the change of demeanor in Namjoo.

Unsuspecting Jineol wouldn’t catch onto the slyness apparent in Namjoo’s posture but Sehun found it almost amusing if not intriguing.

“Help yourself,” Jineol invited. To him, “You must be rather tired from running errands. Eat and rest. There won’t be anything to do for the day.”

“Yes.” Sehun nodded.

“Where did Namjoo go?” Yena wondered.

“I went on a shopping spree,” Namjoo replied. Teasingly she asked, “Hearing that you went out yesterday made me jealous, so I had to get out myself today.”

Yena grinned. “Yes, I was craving to shop.” Sehun's eyelids flittered upwards when Yena brushed her thigh against his. “Thank you for letting me borrow Driver Oh. It’s just been a mess at the house with the employees.”

Namjoo’s smile turned crooked. “Anytime, Yena. Just let me know if you ever need him. He’s always free.”

Sehun shifted in his seat and sternly stared at her.

“That’s so generous of you,” Jineol complimented Namjoo, as if he hadn’t just used the same words on his mistress prior.

“Of course,” Namjoo grinned. “Jineol is booked with work and Driver Lim is responsible for his safety, so no one else is available. I hardly go out, so Driver Oh just loiters around.”

“I would love that. Thanks so much.” Yena squealed.

Sehun shot Namjoo a full-on glare. She chipperly ignored him, so when she reached into the bowl of soup to refill her plate, he intentionally stabbed his spoon into the bowl clashing with her.

He made sure to narrow his eyes when she looked at him.

Jineol chuckled, “The soup must be good today.”

“It is,” Sehun faked a tone. He raised a brow and insincerely offered an apology, “Sorry.”

Namjoo frowned as he sat back.

“Mother called while you were out,” Jineol spoke up. “Call her back when you have time.”

Namjoo’s full attention swung toward her husband. She sounded alarmed, “Mother? Why?”

“I don’t know, but you should call her,” Jineol urged. “You know mother hardly calls, so it’s important you get back to her.”

Distress wound over Namjoo’s face. She stared at her plate of food, the utensils in her hands unmoving over her plate. Sehun assumed she’d lost her appetite.

“Then why didn’t you talk to her?” Namjoo accusingly asked.

“I’m going out to meet father for golf. You women should go enjoy tea or something,” Jineol sounded annoyed. Sighing, he turned to Yena. “Your father should be at the club, too. Driver Lim can drop you off at home.”

Deeming lunchtime was quickly over, Jineol shoved his chair back and left first. Yena’s lost gaze searched the room then she rose silently and escaped; going after Jineol probably.

The utensils in Namjoo’s hands clattered onto her plate. Saying to him, “You should go.”

She left him too.

Dammit he could never have a full meal in the house. Getting up Sehun left. Pausing down the walkway long enough to watch Jineol open the passenger door of his private vehicle for Yena and then slide into the driver’s seat.

They weren’t going to the golf range.

Bastard.

Retreating to the back house Sehun tossed his hat onto the counter, opened the fridge, and made himself a sandwich to fill himself up. He paced back and forth in front of the window. It was unbelievable that Namjoo would have said that about him like he was an invaluable employee.

Also darn her.

Biting into the sandwich angrily he stared out the window. Seeing, in time, Namjoo briskly walking across the lawn past her beloved flower garden. In her hand a full bottle of wine.

Ironic that Jineol had been waiting to go on a secret date while Namjoo waited for him to leave in order to enjoy her secret hobby of doping herself up.

But who was the true making of the other?

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

“What are you thinking about?” Jineol asked. His hot breath seared .

Yena stared up at the roof of the car. The sunroof was halfway opened. A big fat cloud inched through the blue clearing. Wild birds chirped noisily. Their high-pitched yapping echoed throughout the isolated woods Jineol had parked in.

Her knees felt strained, the muscles in her thighs cramping. Jineol’s buff arms tugged her closer, ramping up the heat, but Yena’s mind was elsewhere.

She was thinking about Driver Oh and his lean height. Jineol had made him Namjoo’s designated driver, so they wouldn’t have to share Driver Lim. So whenever needed, Driver Lim could always be ready at Jineol’s expense to chauffeur them around. He found it irritating whenever Namjoo called Driver Lim to assist with her needs taking the driver from them.

Jineol’s hands cupped her nape, his fingers gently pressing part way into her scalp while his thumbs cradled her jaw.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he stared up at her. “We should have gone to the hotel.”

Sighing, Yena climbed off him and over the console back into the passenger’s seat. Huffing as she stared out the side window.

“What?” Jineol worried. “Should we go to the doctor? You’re not pregnant?”

“I’m not.” Yena replied. She didn’t want to talk to him.

She had relished in Jineol’s attention at the beginning. He was well off, smart, chatty with humor, and very good looking. Furthermore, her father just loved him. From the moment they were introduced to each other she’d loved the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the entire universe.

Yena loved it.

She wanted to have his babies, but he was freaking married to a boring witch.

“When are you getting divorced?” Yena asked.

“You know that’s not possible.” Jineol told. “Didn’t you hear my mother? She’ll bring you into the family anyway. She has means.”

“I don’t want to share you!” Yena complained. “I don’t like her. I hate that you have to go home to her every night. You love me, don’t you? I don’t want to wait anymore, Jineol.”

Jineol sighed, frustrated. “If I divorce Namjoo, she’ll make claim on my assets. Her family owes me money, I shouldn’t have to give her any. I said we could still get married; we just need to shut her up with a good lawyer. It’ll all work out, babe.”

Shutting her eyes, Yena banged her head into the head rest. “Isn’t there some other way to get rid of her?”

“If I do anything illegal a scandal would hurt the company.” Jineol said. Yena whined. Reaching over Jineol her cheek with his fingers. “Hey, take it easy. Don’t stress about her. She’s not worth it.”

“She’s not,” Yena looked at Jineol, “having an affair, is she?”

Jineol burst out laughing manically.

“I’m just worried,” Yena spoke with all the concern possible, “it would be bad for you if she cheats on you. Aren’t you worried about Driver Oh? He’s good looking and they’re always together. Can’t you switch the drivers?”

Jineol frowned at her. “Namjoo’s eyes are the size of a penny. She’s never looked at anyone else but me.” he chuckled amused, “Driver Oh? I can tell he’s already tired of her. Just look at his face.”

Yena bit down on her teeth. “Still, you can’t give Driver Lim to her?”

“Driver Lim’s always been with my family,” Jineol said. “He’s my man. Plus,” he touched her hand, “he’s never given us away, right?”

Yena smiled pretentiously. She didn’t think it was fair. She wanted someone better to look at. Not the old man who was always at Jineol’s call. Sehun was attractive. Yena wanted to win him over.

“Let’s not talk about them anymore.” Jineol started the car. “Are you hungry? Lunch was really bad. I hate eating at home.”

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Namjoo was upset since morning. Jineol hadn’t come in until dawn. She couldn’t stand being around him, so she had gone out that morning. But nothing soothed her.

Now she was even more stressed.

Jineol’s mother had called. There could only be two reasons why: she wanted to talk about Yena or she wanted to nag about her inability to produce a child.

Namjoo didn’t want to do anything. She wouldn’t return the call. She couldn’t waste the remaining pills she had left. Tomorrow she’d go to the hospital again. For now, she could only rely on hoping a few drinks might make her feel better.

Walking a good distance from the house, Namjoo plopped down onto the grass. Jineol would be gone a while. She had all afternoon to herself. This far out she’d be unbothered. If she got drunk, she could sleep under the sun.

Pouring herself a generous amount of wine, Namjoo lifted the glass to . The warm liquid permeated satisfactorily. She choked and spat out a quarter of liquid back into her cup when something landed into the grass by her foot.

“My bad.” A voice said.

Coughing, Namjoo looked up. Irked immediately when she saw Sehun.

Helping himself to the spot beside her he picked up the bottle of wine. Incorrectly reading the German label. “Limited edition.” He said. “Nice.”

“What do you want?” Namjoo demanded.

“I brought a snack.” He gestured to the sandwich wrapped in plastic at her foot.

“I don’t want it.” Namjoo rejected. What the hell was his problem? He’d seemed tired of her this morning and now he wanted to make truce?

Sighing loudly Sehun picked up the sandwich and began removing the plastic. “Don’t drink on an empty stomach.”

Slightly leaning away Namjoo frowned at him warily. “You’re offering me your food? You were nitpicking me earlier.”

Something in his expression strained and he argued, “That was my brownie.”

“Your brownie.” She mimicked.

“Are you going to eat it or not?”

Her brow deepened over her eye. She turned away and sipped her glass of wine. “Leave me alone.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “Then I’ll eat it.” Sehun mumbled something like, “I only brought it because of my good nature.”

The frown grew deeper. From the corner of her eyes she saw him tugging the plastic halfway down the half cut homemade sandwich. A simple ham and lettuce with some mayonnaise spread across the bread. Cheap, simple, affordable stuff.

Sehun was unbelievably guilt tripping her.

She involuntarily flashed back to yesterday when he’d given her the random ride in her wheelchair. Zipping her across the lawn and around the driveway. The doctor would have forbidden her from doing something dangerous like that, but it was the peril of it that had made it fun and thrilling.

Namjoo had enjoyed the short ride thanks to him. Before Jineol threw her back into the dumps.

Quickly stealing the sandwich from him Namjoo glared. “Don’t eat what’s mine.”

Sehun scoffed. Turning away Namjoo felt her first two fingers burrow into the soft white bread. She stared out at the woods without eating. Self-conflict rose in her the longer she sat sullenly.

“He didn’t come home last night.” Namjoo said. Staring into the glass of pale yellow wine, she said on a sigh, “And he still hasn’t had enough of her.”

Raising the glass to she tilted her head back and drained it. Grasping the cup between her fingers she squashed the sandwich between her palm and the wine bottle and poured herself another glass.

“Why don’t you just leave him?” Sehun asked.

Setting the bottle of wine onto the grass, Namjoo looked at his arm, “The same reason you got that tattoo.” Meeting his stealthy gaze, she said, “Love.”

The wine splashed into the pit of her belly, swirling around the remnants of her lunch as she gulped down the glass.

Repeatedly pouring another glass, she said, “That’s what it comes down to. I still love him. Even if I’m not pretty or young like Yena.”

“You are beautiful.” Sehun said. “There’s no need for comparison.”

Namjoo kind of scoffed, kind of laughed. “That sounds fraudulent coming from you.”

Sehun made a face. “Fine, forget it. I never said it.”

Biting into the sandwich at last Namjoo chewed. “It tastes bad.”

“Well sorry,” he glowered, “I’m not the head cook who makes breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Namjoo laughed. She couldn’t tell if he was pouting or if he was putting on an act, but it was funny.

That evening after showering Namjoo let the wet towel hang over her shoulder. Jineol hadn’t yet returned. Dinner would be ready soon. Maybe she would have to eat alone.

Closing the door Namjoo turned toward the closed window. Outside the blue sky had become dim. The sun still hang up there, but night was soon crashing over the land. After dinner it would be dark.

Earlier had been humid and perfectly warm. Since night was falling perhaps the wind had picked up. Unlatching the windows, she pushed them out to taste the hushed breeze on her skin. The flow of wind was gentle like loving hands caressing her.

Leaning against the window sill Namjoo stared across the yard. Toward where the giant oak brushed against the roof of the back house. Maybe the new driver wasn’t such an arse.

Glancing into the opposite direction where she knew one vehicle was still missing from the garage, she wondered if Jineol would care to come home. Tonight, she just wanted to lay next to him even if he was too tired to put his arm around her.

At the beginning all had constantly felt so right. She and Jineol had been in the best place. Where they always belonged. Together as one. Namjoo couldn’t wrap around her head how events had caused them to become like this. She didn’t want to always let it be this way.

The knock on the door made her turn. Miss Han opened the door to quietly say, “Dinner is ready, Madam.”

“Ok.”

Rubbing the towel against her damp hair Namjoo opened the closet to throw it into her laundry basket. Touching her almost dried hair she stepped down the hall hoping to hear Jineol’s voice. Except there was nothing. Just the noise of the housekeepers shuffling around, plates gently being placed on the dining table, and the vent humming.

Suddenly the long dining table radiated weariness. It seemed longer than usual. The entrees and side dishes multiplying quickly.

There was so much of everything for a single person.

All the unoccupied chairs were so lonely.

“Jineol’s not back?” Namjoo asked slinking into her chair.

The chair at the head of the table had been shoved far into the table. Clearly no one had touched it.

“No, Madam.” Miss Han replied.

He could call. A part of her heart constricted angrily, but she was tired though she’d done nothing strenuous throughout the day. Yet being tired had always been a part of her now. There wasn’t an hour or second of the day where she didn’t feel exhausted.

Picking up the phone to dial his number was an easy task, but Namjoo didn’t do it. She didn’t want to hear him lying to her. She didn’t want to hear any noise that hinted Yena was in the background.

They wounded her pride. And she would not cry helplessly to let them win.

Surrender?

Over her dead body.

One day Namjoo would get rid of Yena. One day Jineol would be hers again. One day Jineol would remember why he’d gotten on one knee and burst into tears when she said, “Yes.” because he’d been a nervous wreck.

Namjoo would always remember the fool Jineol had been for her.

Let Yena savor what she imagined was victory right now, because Namjoo wasn’t giving up.

She watched the gray-white steam swirl up, vanishing into the air. Jineol’s affection for Yena was going to be short lived just like that.

“Where’s Sehun?” Namjoo asked.

“What?” Miss Han lifted her head surprised. A brief pause passed between them.

“Go get the driver,” Namjoo directed, “tell him to come have dinner with me.”

***little does he know he's already and the only one looking out and caring for her; always making sure she eats and then comforting her ;D

***we're not even halfway yet. I want to create more moments between my mains, they're only getting started with their abnormal relationship