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“So what’d you tell her?” Yena asked from the foot of the hotel bed. Bright rays filtered the room making it starling white. Tinted windows of high buildings on the other side of the ceiling high windows glistened fervently.

Jineol watched her button her blouse back on. Crawling toward her in his boxers, he tucked her between his legs, and securely wrapped his arms around her. “Dates, meals, cuddling with her.” he shrugged as if rehearsing play lines. “She’s an easy woman.”

Yena shrugged her shoulders up when he nibbled her shoulder. “Stop it.”

“What?” he raised his head with contradiction. Namjoo’s words about Yena and men scourged his head.

He had been thinking and also denying, but Yena seemed to put him off these days. Like she was bored with him. Being temperamental and impatient with him.

Sleeping around was nothing these days. All the youth did it for enjoyment and thrill. Yena was still young. She was hot and beautiful. An eyeful from her would have a man going hard.

Shaking him off, she stood and adjusted the blouse over her body. Jineol took advantage of the moment to stare at her elongated legs. He wanted them around him. To be making love to her again, but Yena pulled on her skinny pants which hid nothing anyway. She was still seducing and he still wanted to bang her.

She scoffed. “That is gullible as a baby.”

“Do you still talk to your ex?” Jineol asked.

Yena’s stark eyes were fast to soften. Switching the mood around she walked over and sat on his lap, wrapping her legs around him. Consoling him, “You’re the only one I want.”

His belly heated, but Jineol asked anyway, “And Driver Oh?”

Yena’s eyes flittered to the corner of her eyes, “What about him?”

“You like him?”

Ice frosted over her eyes. “Why? You had with that and I can’t even look at him?”

Jineol shoved her off and stood, pacing from one end of the bed to another. “The fact is! You’ve asked about him more than once! Yena!” Facing her he reminded, “Driver Lim?! I am never exchanging him for that gardener!”

Yena’s lips trembled. “You don’t trust me.”

Jineol’s fury relaxed, bitten by the disappointment on Yena’s face. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Pushing him, Yena glared, “Go her then. As many times as you want!”

The door slammed on her way out. Frustrated about what had gone wrong, Jineol flung his pants onto the bed.

He had put on a stupid act, being lovey dovey with Namjoo so she wouldn’t suspect him with Yena. Never intending to let her words creep into his head and settle there to nest.

Yes, he was the for letting her get to him.

Grunting, Jineol yanked at his hair.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

“I can do that.”

Namjoo banged her head into the hood of the car as she climbed out. Rubbing the injury, she turned to find Sehun standing behind her.

He laughed a nice low chuckle. “Sorry.”

“I don’t think you’d want to see blood that came out of my .” Namjoo said without a hint of embarrassment.

Sehun turned away not sure how to react.

Namjoo smiled. “Was that too straightforward?”

“You don’t think?” he countered.

Namjoo breathed an amused laugh. In reply Sehun smiled. Crawling back into the car, she said, “Miss Han will reheat breakfast for you. Just go in.”

“You already ate?” Sehun asked.

“Yea.”

She waited a beat then his footsteps faded away. A look over his shoulder confirmed he’d gone inside. Returning back to the dark stains on the leather seat, Namjoo continued scrubbing.

She’d woken up midmorning to find Sehun collapsed on the edge of the bed, dangerously slipping off. So tired that his mouth hanged open. Scooting over she had pulled him onto the bed.

Who would have known he’d end up doing her so many favors?

Namjoo washed up after cleaning the car and stared at herself in the mirror. Her body hadn’t changed, but she felt different. What a short moment of joy passing by like the brush of a wind.

A hand lightly touched her belly before heartbreakingly shifting away from her reflection.

The first thing she’d done upon coming home was stripping the sheets and throwing them into the wash. Many thoughts curled through her head. Brooding over how to best tell Jineol she was pregnant for a day and lost the baby the next.

He would admonish her.

He would blame her.

He would hate her.

His love for her would die.

Anxiously sitting on the bed, Namjoo drew her knees up to her chin. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

Her heart leapt when the door opened and Jineol entered, sighing exhaustion. His dress shirt was heavily creased. The edges of his handsome face harrowed.

“Hey.” He greeted, walking over to press a kiss to her forehead. Moving a breadth away to flap out his blazer, he wondered, “What are you doing?”

Tell him. I had your baby, but it’s gone now.

Namjoo’s mouth opened. Nothing came. She was scared. If he knew he wouldn’t feel the same for her anymore. With much effort she’d gotten him back only to lose him again?

No way.

She wouldn’t risk it.

Faking a smile, “Nothing. I was waiting for you. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I ate before coming home. I hope that’s ok.”

“No, no.” Namjoo was quick to ascertain. “It’s fine. I did, too.”

“I’m going to shower now. Early day tomorrow.” Jineol flashed her a lovely smile. The door to the bathroom closed before Namjoo knocked her head into the headboard.

She was the fault of their marriage. Truly.

That night she lay wide awake. Honestly fatigued, she still couldn’t sleep. Hopelessness writhed inside her. Namjoo stared at Jineol. Asleep.

The raw emptiness a chagrin deep inside her. Stubbornly sticking to her whatever she did, wherever she went. Turning over she stretched out an arm.

Since that night Jineol made love to her, she had tried to stay away. In hopes he would impregnant her. That it had worked. She had so passionately kept him up all night. Praying she could remind him why he walked down the aisle with her.

The pills clattered into her palm and she dumped them into . Panting, breathing hard not from the exertion, but she was excited. Knowing the relief would swell through her. Make her feel things she longed for. She could dismiss this night, forget all her woes.

Deeply in a breath Namjoo calmed and closed her eyes, smiling for the first time as she slept.

When she woke up, she was groggier than ever.

Groaning as she sat, she saw her bedside was empty. Jineol was gone to work. Sunlight poured in from the window, signaling a bright and early day. Telling her she should get up and do something.

Her phone was beeping.

Attention diverted, she sought for the phone on her vanity. Blinking bleariness away, Namjoo unlocked the mobile which led her directly to her messages. Text messages whirred at a speed too fast for her. Then it ended. A picture floated above the space bar.

The barest of Yena’s cleavage popped above the picture line. A coy smile floated below her mischievous eyes. Behind her Jineol was and asleep. Namjoo recognized the rumpled sheets, the aftermath of two lovers after enjoying rough .

Contrary to all expectations, laughter poured out of . Her entire body vibrated with the motions. Dropping the phone, Namjoo hugged herself and curled up. Cackling. Tears seethed in her eyes as she continued chortling.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Sehun was hosing down the grass when the door burst open so loudly. Not a normal sound from where he stood always way back on the lawn. He recognized the pitter-patter of urgent footsteps across the walkway, before a figure rounded the house.

“The driver!” It was Miss Han, her face carrying urgency.

Sensing dismay, Sehun lowered the hose and removed his hand off the handle. The sound of water quieted. He waited for her to run over.

“Please, I think something is wrong.” Miss Han grabbed his lower arm. “Come.”

Sehun frowned, but dropped the watering hose anyway. Allowing the elder woman to pull him into the house. Confusion spurred him when she led him to the direction of the master bedroom. Behind the doorway he heard chuckling. A weird kind of crazy guffawing.

Miss Han nodded toward the door. Sehun opened it to find Namjoo lying forty-five degrees off the bed, her head hanging over the edge. She looked possessed, like something in The Exorcist.

She stared at them. The corners of parted upwards resembling a big grinning cat. Her eyes kind of rolled. Then a giggle burst out of her.

If the sight wasn’t alarming enough the empty bottle next to her was.

“I’m taking her to the hospital.” Sehun said.

Swinging into autopilot mode, Sehun lifted her off the bed and rushed out of the house.

“Don’t call my mom.” Namjoo coherently said. “She doesn’t know I’ve been drinking.” Her body convulsed in his arms upon another round of cheerful giggle. “Did you tell Sohee where we’re going?”

Putting her back into the backseat, Sehun raced, once again, to the ER.

The station was busier this time, but a nurse recognized him. He speedily explained the overdose and hallucination as he handed Namjoo over. A group of uniforms wheeled Namjoo off again and he was left pacing.

His phone was broken. He also hadn’t bothered to grab Namjoo’s on their way here. Dammit!

Telephone lines continuously rang and voices churned around him. Sehun was restless. What had triggered Namjoo to go to such extremes? The miscarriage? Sure, she had doped herself up before but not so dangerously that her life had to hang on a wire.

He should have beat Jineol up earlier. Just yesterday Namjoo seemed ok. She was moving about. Even cleaning the car. Sehun had assumed she would be back on her feet in no time.

Maybe he had seen wrong.

Sehun scrubbed his face. He couldn’t sit still. The world felt like it was revolving on its axis about to tip over the next second.

What could he do? What was he supposed to do?

The wait felt even longer than the night before. Hunger started panging his stomach, but he feared walking away in case the doctor or nurse couldn’t find him. He couldn’t leave Namjoo alone.

Three rough hours of waiting and a doctor finally emerged from the blinding corridor. They’d given her a shot of Narcan to reverse the overdose. Namjoo was resting now. She had rejected seeing a psychiatrist, but the doctor suggested he should talk to her again. Bring up the subject slowly. Take care, the doctor patted his arm.

Namjoo was in a quiet wing, curtained off for privacy from other patients and prowling nurses. Sehun had pictured her peacefully sleeping, but she was sitting and staring out the window. Stranded, lost, abandoned on an island floating somewhere out in the ocean. All alone. All by herself.

He wanted to hug her. Fold her into his arms. But Namjoo would have to do that by herself. He couldn’t do that for her.

There was no available chair, so he took the edge of the bed. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

She didn’t budge.

Beyond the curtain voices chattered. Someone raised his voice. Another round of joyful roar emanated. A patient was finally getting a visitor it seemed.

Slightly stealing a glance of her, he asked, “Do you want to see a doctor?”

“No.” her voice was the mere breath of a whisper.

“You should get help.” Sehun gently prodded.

“Take me home.” Namjoo ordered but never looked at him.

She stared out the window the entire way. Never speaking to him. Never meeting his eyes. The woman who had come running to him for help had disappeared. Arriving back at the manor he watched Namjoo slink back into the house. She didn’t turn back even once.

He really needed to get his phone repaired, but another idea struck his head. Marching into the house he went on a hunt for Miss Han. She was hovering around in the pantry. Heavy bags of grains sat at her feet. Noticing him right away she stepped over the stacks like they were hurdles.

“Do you need something?” she inquired.

“Do you know the phone number for Jineol’s office?” Sehun asked.

“Yes. Wait a moment.” She went somewhere and returned with a slip of paper. Digits were scrawled across the center. Did she know everything in this house? Warmly touching his arm, she said, “Come have lunch.”

His head bobbed in reply and he walked off. Believing the family wouldn’t mind Sehun used the landline to make his call. Someone picked up after three rings. It was a female.

“Hello?”

His gaze flickered to the yard outside the three-paned windows. “I want to speak to Jineol.”

“Jineol?” Amusement laced the tone. “Who is this?”

“I said I want to speak to Jineol.” Sehun repeated.

Toying with him, Yena breathed teasingly into the phone, “Who. Is. This?”

Sehun slammed the phone down, irked. Huffing he stomped outside. Forget it. Finding the watering hose, he picked up where he left off. Working until the heat got to him and sweat dripped from his neck into his shirt.

Checking his watch, he noted it was noon. Miss Han had said she’d have lunch for him. He shouldn’t waste the effort. The air conditioning helped cool him. From the foyer he smelled hints of spices and food. Namjoo was at the table. A wine glass in front of her, a new wine bottle beside it.

“You came?” Namjoo goofily smiled. Waving with her hand, “Come, come sit.” Shouting, “Miss Han! He’s here!”

Expressionlessly, Miss Han shuffled over. Maintaining her usual calm. Setting the table. It must be a skillset she’d obtained throughout her years here to not react to Namjoo’s outburst. The madam chuckled drunkenly.

“He’s here, Miss Han.” Namjoo slurred the words. Pointing a finger at him. “Get him a plate.”

There was a plate. Sehun stared at her flatly.

He couldn’t believe her. Sehun didn’t know whether it made him angrier or if he really just wished he never gave a damn.

“Thank you.” He said. Miss Han just nodded and backed away. Once gone, Sehun picked up his spoon and ate without saying anything. Stay calm he repeated to himself. Namjoo was in a fragile state. Yelling at her would just hurt her.

Clearing her plate, Namjoo picked up her glass and bottle. “Do you want to drink with me?”

Holding a spoonful of food in front of his mouth, he replied, “No.”

“Poor sport.” Namjoo pouted. Never minding him she walked off swaying her shoulders back and forth singing something like la-la-la-la. Sehun let her get with it.

He remained where he was until one of the housekeepers came to clean up. It was a younger woman Sehun didn’t recognize. Their shifts must rotate every other day. He was actually waiting for Miss Han, but since she was nowhere Sehun left the table and wandered into the kitchen. Curiously observing the tall windows beside the pantry door, the hardwood flooring, the high kitchen ceilings.

The inner politics of the manor didn’t concern him, so Sehun never wandered anymore than the dining room. He was fascinated by the marbling in the kitchen, two-door refrigerator, and deep double sink. The kitchen was so clean cut. The countless drawers and cupboards probably hid household secrets.

No one checked on him, no one bothered. Sehun started going through the wooden cupboards. Rummaging for Namjoo’s gold stash. More were discovered under the sink. High above the fridge. Vodka, imported liquor, wine, and more wine.

Namjoo was already spiraling. If she could not be an addict, she would soon be an alcoholic.

Forget the thinking. Sehun merely acted. Doing this for the greater good.

Swiping his hands clean after the cleanup, Sehun waited. Namjoo would come charging. She would riot.

He knew her temper, but he would still do it again.

***A/N: I know not many are reading this but for the few who are, I hope that wherever you are you stay safe and healthy. Despite the Covid-19 situation, protests are happening everywhere and very soon, will also take place in my city. Take precautionary measures if you are in the US, protest safely and support #BlackLivesMatter; if you are abroad you can sign petitions, donate whatever you can, speak up, use your social platforms, and make yourself loud and clear. Doing something is better than nothing! Take care everyone!