Jerking free Namjoo spun around punching Sehun in the chest. Fury made her blood rush and she panted. She hit him again and again until it no longer relieved the knot inside her. Weakly giving up she slid to the ground losing the strength to withstand a fight.

She was pissed off. She wanted to blubber and cry but she also did not want to resort to such meek failure. Namjoo pulled out patches of grass tossing it around. The need to destroy overtaking her.

She needed numbness. She couldn’t take this. Later…later when she woke up she would think things over. After a nap distilled her emotions, she would have a clearer head.

Pushing to her feet she started toward the house. Four steps closer to the walkway something yanked her back. Namjoo nearly lost her footing. Righting her balance her head snapped to the side.

“Where are you going?” Sehun asked.

Namjoo forcefully attempted to pull free discovering his grip strong and she only hurt herself. She coldly demanded, “Let go.”

“Have you looked at yourself?” he questioned.

went dry. The thought of her drugs caused her stomach to flush and tighten. She wanted the high. She needed it desperately. It was all she could think about.

Her mind spun. Cold sweat poured out of her pores. The overwhelming feeling of emptiness plundered her. She was mentally tearing apart.

Like a sugar addict who constantly wanted a chocolate chip cookie, Namjoo just wanted to feel good. And when she was good again maybe Jineol would be sorry for calling her a .

Though a part of her consciously knew it was a sick and twisted thought because she already knew he wouldn’t, she still hoped like a mongrel fool.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?!” Namjoo screamed at him. “Who are you?! You don’t even know me!”

She thrashed harder. Attempting to free herself, but Sehun never let go. The veins in her eyes bulged tasting nothing but heat and pure rage; frustration a landslide drowning her. A mental tornado aggressively tossed her into the air. In her head all she could hear was Jineol’s mother asking why she wasn’t pregnant yet. Flashing to a scene of shaking disappointed heads and recalling the way Jineol used to comfort her. “We can try again.” he would quietly whisper to her. Then she’d look at another two or three pregnancy tests; all of them reading ‘not pregnant’.

Hearing Yena’s previous words sent an ear-splitting scream into the air. It took Namjoo a pending minute to realize it was her own.

Clenching her teeth, Namjoo felt the steaming tears of surrender well up in her eyes. The hush of the wind muted, washing an abnormal calm over her. Dropping her tight fist Namjoo let go of the breathless sob she’d been choking on.

She made a weird suffocating noise unable to freely release a cry. A teardrop and another fell anyway. Like slow raindrops. Beginning as a faint drizzle before the downpour.

All her muscles went lax pulling her down under. Her entire being dried up becoming the ghosts always haunting her.

She always knew that since the accident she was never good enough. The true decline of her life started the moment the truck crashed into her car pinning her under. Unlucky was what Jineol’s father called her.

That was all she could think about. How unworthy she was. If she could not have Jineol’s love she was a waste of space.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

“I said it hurts.” Namjoo pushed his hand away. She scowled at him unhappily.

“If you were going to fight, you should have won.” Sehun rebutted. He sighed finding more scratch marks on her neck. “And by that, I mean coming out unscathed.”

Namjoo jumped and hissed. Giving him a glare when he brushed the liquid bandage wand over a cut on her cheek. Scolding once more, “I said it hurts!”

“Of course it’ll hurt!” he spoke with the same tone. “I’m doing it as fast as I can.”

Namjoo’s frown landed on him with a snarl then she turned away. They were at the backhouse now. Naturally he’d just led her here. She had cried so sorrowfully earlier against his shoulder his shirt had drenched through. Thinking it through he couldn’t abandon her outside in the wet sopping state she was in.

Luckily Namjoo had calmed down after he gave her a cup of warm water. Her eyes were bloodshot red and after a massive hiccup she’d stopped crying altogether. Now he was trying to relax the arm he’d used to pat her back during her break down.

Namjoo clicked her tongue. “Are you done yet?”

He glanced at the red slash at the low of her neck. Yena had done whatever damage possible during their fight. If Namjoo didn’t take care she could scar.

A turn of her head and Namjoo asked, “What are you doing?”

He glanced up at her. Straightening he replaced the wand into the tiny bottle. “Now I understand why they call it a catfight.” Namjoo steely gave him a frown. He apologized, “Sorry.”

She slid away from him. Sehun expected her to leave, but instead Namjoo moved up the bed to lay down. Folding her hands on her belly she stared up at the ceiling.

“Tell me,” she said, “how you met your girlfriend.”

“Nothing special.” He turned from her to stare at the floor. The sight of his tattoo peeked at him from where it settled on his thigh. “I met her at the car shop, so I talked to her and we hit it off. That’s all.”

“But we always remember the tiniest things.” Namjoo somberly said. “Right?”

“Sure.” He answered. He still remembered the hot, humid day. Smell the oil, grease, and sweat in the garage. The gray concrete flooring stretching around him. Parts of it stained with uneven cracks. It was a hole of a place, old and grimy but the foundation was strong and the only car garage in town. Sehun could still see the cars on the lifts waiting to be observed and diagnosed. At the side a long rectangle window gave him view of the interior lobby where he first saw her waiting at the counter to be serviced. Long hair, oval face, almond eyes that became half-moons when she smiled.

“You miss her?” Namjoo pried.

“It’s been a while.” He quietly said picking at a finger. “She probably moved on.”

“What if she’s waiting?” Namjoo asked. “Maybe she thought about spending a future with you. Maybe implies open endings that can lead to many possibilities. Don’t you think?”

His brows tightened and he glanced over his shoulder. She was crying again. The tears flowing out the corner of her eyes drenching her hair. Namjoo was really such a miserable feat.

She loved Jineol that much that she wouldn’t leave him. Digging his nails into his palm Sehun in a breath. Even after her husband swore at her, Namjoo was here piteously crying over a man who didn’t care an ounce about her.

That angered him.

“You deserve better.” Sehun said. “You shouldn’t be crying for him.”

Letting her be he went over to the recliner and slumped into it. Grabbing the remote he switched the television onto a random channel. Sehun didn’t even bother watching. Closing his eyes, he bumped his head back into the chair exhaling. Complex emotions warred inside him.

When he woke up the sun shone harder against the windows. He interpreted it was later in the afternoon. Leaning around the chair he saw that Namjoo was asleep. She hadn’t left.

He stretched feeling a muscle in his neck cramp. Uncomfortable he hurriedly stood to release the tension. Then peered over his shoulder again. Namjoo had twisted and turned through sleep, now lying on her side, partially open. Her tears had dried. She looked unbothered. Somehow also making his bed look more comfortable than it actually felt.

She was sleeping on the blanket so Sehun didn’t even bother adjusting it over her. For future reference he should maybe start folding it at the foot of the bed.

Grabbing the bottle of liquid bandage on his way Sehun halted in front of the bed. Namjoo really looked small and innocent. Kind of resembling a kitten curled up in a tiny ball. Fragile, needing love and protection. Jineol should have coddled her, not turn his back on her.

Sitting at the edge of the bed Sehun rolled the bottle between his palms. Prolonging the moment, hesitating, and hoping Namjoo wouldn’t wake up thinking the worst of him. Touching her shoulder, he eased her onto her back. Her head rolled along his pillow and she smacked her lips, tiredly but she didn’t wake.

Sehun quietly laughed. Opening the bottle, he sought the cut he’d earlier seen on her lower neck. The bottom quarter of it was concealed by her shirt. Gently pulling the top of her dress just the slightest so he could see the entire cut he hurriedly dabbed the liquid over it. Being careful to watch in case Namjoo woke up should he need to make an excuse.

She didn’t even stir. Capping the bottle, he removed his hand and sat back.

Namjoo’s face was pink and full of abrasions. From the look of it he could say she and Yena did each other the same amount of damage. He had no idea Namjoo had it in her. Despite her cruel words Namjoo never gave a hint she could be outwardly aggressive.

He could see she was completely trodden on by Jineol’s family. Yet she bared it and walked with confidence around Jineol acting clueless. Where she got the energy from, why she dealt with the abuse was beyond Sehun. Today he knew if he’d let her go inside, she would have doped herself up. Already thin and pale, how much more drugs could her body process before it was over?

If the wounds inside weren’t already obvious enough on her face, Jineol was really a .

Just leave him was easier said than done. Namjoo’s will power to continue to stay was amazing. If Sehun was in her shoes he would have signed the divorce papers a long time ago. Forget the assets or whatever else could be claimed through divorce, he wasn’t interested. Don’t take the bastard’s money. Just go.

But Namjoo was hungry for her husband’s love like a lost pet wandering through a drought in search of water. Unable to leave unless she satiated her thirst first.

Running his hand along her hair he lifted her head to adjust the pillow before letting her relax. All that crying must have exhausted her.

Standing Sehun turned the television off and dimmed the lights on his way out.

Contrary to morning the air had grown heavier. An hour later and he was sweating. Deciding to give t a rest, he sunk onto the grass. Splaying his legs out and leaning back on his hands he closed his eyes momentarily. Enjoying the sanctity of the silent moment. The warmth of the sun kissing his face, the hum of nature, and his solitude. A splash of cool water near his hand distorted the brief moment.

Surprised he blinked against the sun. Blinded by the sudden light he waited for the moment to pass. Squinting he spotted a figure nearby. A familiar cord dangled from her hand.

Shuffling to his feet Sehun swiped grass off his jeans. “You woke up?”

Namjoo managed a thin smile. “I won’t shoot you.” She fiddled with the nozzle like she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Stretching forward he took it from her antsy hands. Nervous she would shoot him to break the ice. It was more than obvious he was short on words. She seemed to not know what to say too. The earlier fight and comforting seemed to have come to a draw. A few hours later it didn’t feel so normal anymore.

Strangely.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” Namjoo jutted a thumb toward the manor. Noticing his side eye, she continued, “The housekeepers work around the clock. If you want something to eat.”

“Ok,” he said just to help her end her unease.

Her tired eyes slid left to right. Comprehending that was the end of it she pivoted and went inside. Leaving his job incomplete Sehun pulled the hose with him toward the back of the house. Working swiftly to return it to its reel orderly. Brushing his hands against his jeans he lightly jogged toward the house.

Dinner was pleasantly quiet. Just two of them. Namjoo hardly managed a whisper. She picked at her food lethargically but he watched her eat. He stayed until the end to ensure she had enough for a full meal then departed.

Sehun was bummed out by the time he dropped into bed. Drained by the time his head hit the pillow. Instinctively sticking to one side of the bed he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to sweep him under. Yet the longer he lay there the more his senses became acute.

Silence honed in on him. Leaving the humming refrigerator as a backdrop to his night. Despite the noise he smelled a faint scent that hadn’t been there before. The scent of Namjoo’s hair lingered on the pillow beside him. It tickled his nose like a tease but didn’t bother him so much he had to get up and get rid of it.

Sehun continued to wait for exhaustion to fully hit. It never came. He was up before the soft knock on his door. Getting up with complaint he unlocked the door.

A star littered sky had already fallen over the clear blue. Behind the small shadow in his doorway the manor glowed in the darkness.

“Sorry if I woke you.” Namjoo apologized.

“Oh…no. I wasn’t sleeping.” Sehun touched the back of his head. Something clinked and he noticed she was clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses to her chest.

“I was just wondering if you want a drink with me.” Her voice came out mousy and small like she was shy. To be very honest, he wasn’t used to this. Because he took too long to reply, she added, “If you don’t want to…”

“It’s fine. Let’s,” he interjected.

Namjoo peered at him. With a firm press of her lips to acknowledge his answer she turned and slowly walked away. Closing the door Sehun followed her across the lawn, through the flower garden to her sitting area.

Surprisingly, the steel chairs matching the bistro table were warm thanks to the summer heat. Taking the chair across from her he watched Namjoo open the fresh bottle of wine and pour them even amounts of liquid.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked. He noticed she wasn’t in night wear. Still the same dress from during the day. Maybe she hadn’t bothered to even shower or perhaps didn’t even have the heart to.

“Even if I lay down, I won’t be able to.” Namjoo said in the softest voice. She took a small sip of the wine then just held it under her chin, her fingers curled strictly around the stem. “He won’t be coming home.”

Her sparkly eyes jot over the table afraid to make contact with him. Her lips formed an upside-down smile. Raising the glass, she took another light sip.

“Yena is pregnant.” Namjoo’s voice trembled.

That was it. What triggered Namjoo to act impulsively.

“I thought one day that could be me,” she whimpered. “How could he do this to me?” A finger clawed at her chest. Her voice was a weak squeal, murmuring, “It isn’t right. It’s not right.”

Her heart was broken.

Sehun watched her lips twist and contort as she tried not to sob. Abruptly taking the glass, he tilted his head to drain it and jumped to his feet.

“Come on.” He said. Namjoo looked up at him beneath her deep brows. He didn’t wait a beat and grabbed her wine glass from her. The liquid sloshed from side to side when he hastily set it on the bistro table.

Without explaining he grabbed her hand and pulled her across the lawn.

“Wait here.” Letting go of her outside the backhouse he dashed inside and grabbed his keys. Running back out he grabbed her hand again. “Let’s go.”

Blinking back tears, lost, Namjoo let him drag her. The tail lights of her car glowed orange as he unlocked the car.

“What?” she asked when he opened the passenger side door not the rear.

“We’re going on a drive.” Sehun said. “Get in.”

Confused Namjoo ran her eyes over the car. She couldn’t understand what was going through his head. Hesitantly taking a step forward she paused then continued. Shooting him a contradictory stare and slid into the chair. Closing the door, he hurried into the driver’s seat and started the car.

Night life burst around them as he sped through the dark city. Sehun drew the windows down allowing wind to fully blast inside, rustling through their hair. Namjoo’s strands flittered across her face toward the chair. Staring out the open window she blinked but seemed enamored sighting the passing scenery.

Flashes of colorful lights resonating from business buildings; shops, night cafés, gas stations, street lights. A flood of people poured along the streets. Young adults enjoying the last of their youth partying, prowling the city drunk and sober and savoring their life. Music pounded from somewhere vanishing as fast as every car he sped past.

Sehun quickly stole another peek to find Namjoo leaning further out of the window. Eyes wide, delight weaving across her cut-up cheeks. Grinning he returned to watching the road. Another hour later he pulled onto the freeway. Few cars flashed by considering it was nighttime and only several drivers were about.

Stepping out of the car Sehun walked to the passenger side. Opening the door, he waited. Namjoo cluelessly peered up at him.

Gesturing toward the side, he said, “Your turn.”

“Huh?” dropped out of her lips.

“Come on. You drive now.” He said.

Namjoo’s eyes dove around uncertain. “But…”

“I want to sit now.” Sehun continued trying to persuade her. It was bull that Jineol’s family refused to give her freedom. “Don’t you want to drive?”

She had told him about her university days. Taking him downtown to show him where she used to live before everything changed. Don’t sit in the wheelchair anymore he wanted to tell her. She should start doing what she wanted. He wanted to show her she could do it.

Wasn’t she shaken enough?

Confidence drew her cheeks up, splashing conviction across her downtrodden face. “I do.”

A nod of his head again, “Then get out.”

Biting her lower lip, she unbuckled her seatbelt and hurried out of the car. Scoffing a grin Sehun took her seat. Behind the wheel at last Namjoo traced her hands over the steering wheel, a long-lost acquaintance.

Glee overpowered her eyes. “I haven’t driven in a while.” Her gaze cut in his direction. “Just so you know.”

Sehun nodded clicking the seatbelt in. “I know.”

“Ok.” She pushed down on the accelerator and the engine roared. Putting her hand around the gear shift, she muttered, “Here we go.”

Gravity jolted him forward when the car started. A giggle and a burst of joy escaped from . Sehun listened to her let out whoops of joy as she increased speed. Soon Namjoo was laughing, so many of it rolling out of her lips.

Sehun watched gladly. Cautiously keeping an eye out for any oncoming cars but there were none. They were the only ones on this strip of isolated road. A hand on the wheel, Namjoo waved her arm out the window. Stretching her head out ever slightly to taste the rush of wind.

This was the happiest he’d seen her.

***See what happens when she finally goes to him?