Sehun smiled harder so much his teeth showed. Then realizing he was disturbing her, he said, “Oh, the bus is here.”

Switching her phone off, Namjoo tucked it into her pocket. Quick on her tail Sehun went with her. Paying his fare, he followed her to a plastic blue chair. Too many things bumbled through him.

He decided to start with, “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I just got done with work.” Namjoo said over the roar of the engine. “I didn’t know you take this bus.”

“Oh…uh…well…” he touched the back of his head, “I do.” He added, “From time to time.”

Actually, he had never taken this bus before. It didn’t go on his route to work or home, but he could lie. A lie wouldn’t hurt.

Namjoo observed him, but said nothing. Her cheeks were fuller. Eyes livelier. Hair shinier. Skin less translucent. She really looked healthier than when she had lived with Jineol.

He had seriously been her illness. Forget him. Sehun didn’t want to give an inch about trash.

“You look good.” He commented. Namjoo subconsciously touched her face. He fixed, “Not that anything’s on your face.”

She breathed a laugh and he still found her smile enchanting. A full-blown mood blast through him.

He was really glad.

“So,” he asked, “you’re going home then?”

“I had a long day.” Namjoo said. She ran her gaze over his outfit, “You’re coming from somewhere?”

“Oh,” he shifted peering at himself, “work, too. I work at the electronic store.” He boasted, “I’m manager.”

Instead of receiving an impressed reply, Namjoo asked worriedly, “What happened to being a driver?”

The mention of Jineol made his guts twist. He didn’t think the undeserving name would travel from . Not after she divorced him.

Darting his eyes away he said, “I quit.”

A moment of silence elapsed between them. At a loss of what to say. He had just been hopeful to see her. He actually thought he’d never see her again. To get away from a divorce Namjoo might have escaped farther down south.

But she was here in the city.

Having gone nowhere.

“Well then,” Namjoo grinned, “good for you.”

Sehun hesitantly peeked at her. When he saw the light in her eyes he relaxed. She wasn’t doubting him.

“Then,” he wondered, “where do you work?”

“At the public library,” she answered. “I’m an administrator of collections.”

“Sounds complex,” he commented.

She just smiled. She had gotten really good at it. “It’s not really.”

“You really look better.” Popped out of his mouth. Catching himself, he panicked and corrected, drawing his own smile with his fingers, “Smiling. I mean, your smile. Not that it’s crooked or looks funny…”

He needed to shut up. Stiffening, Sehun gripped his hands between his knees. Embarrassment wallowed over him. Namjoo giggled amused. The noise was welcoming. At least she hadn’t taken him seriously.

Sehun was elated. He’d only just met her again and she had smiled more than once. At him.

She never did that before.

“Have you eaten?” Namjoo asked.

Sehun was utmost relieved that she asked, because he didn’t know how he would have done it. Afraid to come off as a creep. He wasn’t even her driver anymore, which really made this different.

“No.”

Standing up she leaned forward to press an orange button by the door. Patting his shoulder, she urged, “Hurry. Get up.”

Confused he did as directed. Namjoo pulled him off the bus by the arm. Hurrying past him she lightly jogged in the opposite direction the bus was heading. She glanced over her shoulder every three steps to make sure he was behind her.

Catching up with her Sehun asked, “Where are we going?”

Huffing and puffing, Namjoo stopped in front of a rundown restaurant. Compared to the peeling sidings, the front door was so flimsy it’d be easy to kick down. He nearly bumped into her. Only making out the restaurant name over her shoulder before she slid the door open and the name disappeared. Something noodles.

“Hello!” Namjoo called out stepping inside.

Sehun automatically followed her into a place that resembled a mother’s kitchen. Dreary walls from years of occupation and hard work, but the atmosphere was homey and smelled strongly of cooked foods. Tiny round tables were evenly spaced apart and filled a bigger half of the room just like a mother who would choose to accommodate her family over her comfort. On the other end of the room an open kitchen was crammed with a huge pot over a burning stove, a deep silver sink, various ingredients spread out over a silver counter, and cooking tools jumbled together in racks on a shelf.

“Why, it’s the young miss!” a curly haired woman popped out from somewhere clapping her hands joyfully. “And you brought a friend!”

“Yes, it’s my friend.” Namjoo gleefully confirmed. Holding up two fingers, she said, “Can we get two bowls of special soup?”

“I’ll have it right up!” She chirped merrily and disappeared to where she came from.

“Special soup?” Sehun asked.

“It’s nutritious,” Namjoo explained. “She boils ox bones for twenty-eight hours making the broth thick and fatty. It’s a mix of everything on the house; dumpling, beef, eggs, vegetables.”

He was in awe she knew of a place like this and that she would even eat here. Sehun couldn’t help conjuring the image of the long dining table always filled with sumptuous foods; Namjoo sitting with that bored expression with a glass of wine, waiting to be served. This was not like the Madam he had met at the beginning of summer.

“Do you come here often?” he was curious.

Namjoo shrugged not saying. “It’s low budget and the food is good.” She pointed to the menu plastered to the wall.

Turning he read the specialties and prices labeled after ten dots. The food was cheap like she claimed. Two months wasn’t a long time, but he saw she had been well. She had gotten a job and found an eatery she could enjoy that wouldn’t break her bank. Sehun was relieved.

“I thought you moved away.” Sehun turned back to her.

“Me?” she sounded surprised then laughed “Where would I go?”

“I’m not sure.” Sehun said. He stared at the aging table that felt kind of greasy. While laying alone in the backhouse he had rehearsed things he’d say if he ever ran across her again. Are you well? You left so fast. Where do you live now? What are you doing? Do you keep in touch with your family? What about Jineol? Do you talk with him? Don’t miss him.

Had she wondered about him?

Many more questions had run through his mind, but now that he was face to face with her, he didn’t know what he should say. At one point he had imagined them talking about that night in the backhouse. Why he’d kissed her. Why she’d kissed him.

Why they had had .

Had she felt the tiniest spark of attraction?

Sehun couldn’t help wondering, because she’d lain on that boxy bed with him numerous occasions but always walked off nonchalantly. Like he wasn’t even a man to her.

“I didn’t go anywhere.” That smile again. Why did she keep smiling? “I live down an alleyway several blocks away. It’s a rooftop place. I always wanted a rooftop place.”

Sehun stared at the crescents of her eyes from the heavy smile. Really surprised she had told him that. He didn’t think he’d be able to fish the information out of her so easily, but Namjoo had given it to him. Just like that.

After they ate, they paid separately and walked out together. “How is your workplace? Do you like it?”

An empty bag of fun sized chips someone had thrown onto the cracked street flew past. A couple of motorbikes were parked crookedly and illegally next to the curb. Namjoo lived in a lower middle-income neighborhood. Sehun could smell days old garbage from somewhere. Did she intentionally take a step down from her social status to punish herself? He worried if there were thieves around. The haggard stores wouldn’t have enough funding for cameras. Criminals could go into action any time of day. Did drunks go rampant at night? She lived alone.

“It’s all right.” Sehun replied.

“You look like you have something to say.” Namjoo noticed.

A flash of guilt made him rapidly blink. He asked with a hint of disbelief, “You really live here?”

Namjoo nodded. “I like it.”

She was still unpredictable as always. He didn’t understand her. Pointing down a narrow alley between a local butcher shop and bicycle store they changed direction. The road was smoother and quieter here. High walls surrounded them on both sides. Every ten feet they passed tall iron gates that protected family homes. At the far end they reached a six-foot steel gate. Sehun spotted a steel door beyond it. A rocky staircase at the side led upstairs to her home. It was a pale bricked two-stories. Namjoo was the upper tenant. Who was it that lived below her?

“I live here.” Namjoo told. “The landlady is super nice. Sometimes her son brings me food.” She added as if he might comment, “His wife worries about the landlady, the grandma, you know. She’s the one that makes the food.”

Sehun awkwardly nodded. Namjoo fiddled with her fingers not really looking at him.

“That’s good to hear.” He said.

“Then,” Namjoo gestured her hands toward the gate, “I’m going to go in.”

“Oh…yea…” Sehun watched her unlock the bolt. The gate squeaked as she opened it. Before she might disappear, he said, “Namjoo.”

She wheeled around.

“It’s good to see you.” He had to say it.

“You, too.” Another dainty smile emitted from her lips then she went inside. He listened to the bolt slide home. Staying until she climbed the stairs and craned his neck to watch her reach the second floor. At the top Namjoo paused to peer down. With a wave of the hand he smiled. In the blink of an eye she was gone.

Lowering his head, he stared at the bronze plate at the side. He would remember this address.

After washing that night, Sehun crossed the wooden corridor to his apartment. Strange that his home was higher quality compared to Namjoo’s. He had a private elevator only he could access, so he always left the door unlocked. There were two kitchens. A dry one with the usual set up and a wet one that consisted of a gas stove and stacked washer and dryer.

His suite had one gigantic scenic window. In addition to the HD flat screen he had a charcoal leather 8-seater. A beige rug lay at the foot of it. Being a driver for a rich businessman had proved a good decision. Sehun had saved up plenty when he lived with Jineol. Plus, the bonus pay and his previous savings account from before prison, he could make do.

He felt wealthy. What he’d always dreamed of becoming when he shared a cell with another inmate. Obtaining his own space. A big home. Freedom of movement.

Thinking of Namjoo’s shabby home made him wonder if this was too much. For a small town man like he compared to Namjoo, who was always of a different class, their lives shouldn’t be this way.

He only had one bedroom. A large personal suite sophistically decorated. A queen bed modernly fashioned plainly in white sheets and two fluffy pillows. Dropping onto the soft-soft bed, Sehun grabbed a remote off the glass bedside table. A push of a button switched the lights off. Starlight glittered from behind the large screened window.

Of all days so far, he was extremely pleased today. A smile skimmed his face when he closed his eyes thinking of what he may do tomorrow.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

After slapping moisturizer on her face and some makeup Namjoo flew out of her small bathroom like a flash of lightning. Skidding into her room through the sliding door she’d left open she barraged her closet for something to wear.

She didn’t live in a big space. The outside interior could be a living or dining room. There was a small television set she’d grabbed from a thrift store that sat on top of a weak drawer unit. So far, she couldn’t grab a DVD player yet. She planned on it soon. At least she could skim through the channels for something to entertain her.

The kitchen was off to the side. The refrigerator was tiny as heck, but Namjoo stuffed it with whatever she could afford. She was still getting used to noodles on a daily diet, but ate out mostly because of work. Budget, budget, budget she always tried to tell herself.

Her bedroom was concealed behind a wall-sized sliding door with paned quadra glass. The rest of her belongings were hidden in her room. In order to live easily Namjoo had decided not to be materialistic. For more income she had sold off her branded possessions, forked out a good quarter of her savings to pay Jineol.

The cost of semi-formal wear was the bigger end of her problem. To deal with that Namjoo was always sifting through thrift stores. Sometimes people donated expensive looking items. Though Namjoo kept few of her belongings she’d given away her dresses. She was no longer Jineol’s submissive wife who had to be looked down on. There was no more grandmother Suh to criticize her from head to toe.

Namjoo was free.

In order to wash her clothes, she either resorted to a laundromat on the weekends or she did it by hand. The landlord’s son had installed a laundry line for her to dry her clothes after a wash, which was convenient for her.

Pulling on black slacks she slipped into a blouse matching it with an airy cardigan. Combing her hands through her hair once, Namjoo rushed into the bathroom to give herself a onceover. Good to go.

Grabbing her only luxury bag, she hurried out of the house and down the street toward the bus.

Namjoo had gotten accustomed to this schedule. Up by seven, breakfast by eight, home by five, sleep at nine and start the day over. She always knew when the bus would arrive in her area. After getting lost several times she had engraved the bus number to take to come back home.

The first few times she had lucked out and had to walk all the way home from work. A taxi was too expensive. Namjoo could never spend much. Her payment to Jineol wouldn’t end till a long time coming. Most of her paychecks would go to his account. She could never have much, but this was far better than living with him.

She could do this.

She would do this.

Alighting the bus Namjoo took a window seat and stared at the scenery as she started her day. Spending it coding books, putting returned books on the shelf, helping others, and pulling down expired events. At the end of the day she hurried down the block to wait for the bus home.

A line of other employees anxious to return to their bunks had formed. The available bench was taken up by a woman and her handbag. Namjoo chose to join the line and pulled out her phone to waste some time. What celebrity was having a scandal today? Namjoo skimmed through the pages absorbed in her screen unaware of her surroundings.

Hearing the roar of an engine pulling up she lifted her head wondering why the bus sounded strange. Complete silence washed over everyone; their eyes set on the glossy gray BMW at the curb.

What was going on?

Confusion whooshed through her. The windows were tinted making the driver hard to see. She wondered if the person was new to the city. This parking spot was marked for buses only.

The driver’s door suddenly opened and the driver stepped out. Namjoo dumbfoundedly stared as Sehun closed the door and rounded the car. Embarrassment coursed through her when he pulled the passenger door open, waiting.

As abruptly as it happened, the employees waiting to go home began to murmur. The attention was uninviting. Namjoo didn’t know how to react. Walk away? What in the world?

“What are you waiting for?” Sehun asked. “Get in.”

Sweating Namjoo’s eyes slid left to right. What the hell? She thought he wasn’t a driver anymore. How did he have a car when he already quit working for Jineol?

The honk of the oncoming bus forced her to chose her options. Hurrying forward Namjoo slid inside the air-conditioned vehicle and waited for Sehun to get in. Hastily pulling the seatbelt over her body she debated what to say first.

She mumbled, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why?” he questioned driving onto the road.

Never minding answering, Namjoo peered around the interior of the car. “You have a car?”

“It was a parting gift.”

“A parting gift?” she repeated.

“You know,” Sehun muttered, “from him.”

“Jineol gave you a car?” Namjoo frowned unable to believe it. Suh Jineol was never that generous about expensive gifts.

“I don’t like to drive it much,” Sehun insisted. “I keep it in a garage.”

The sound of that didn’t bemuse her. Now she was starting to wonder what things happened after she left that house. Namjoo had assumed Sehun would stay and work for Jineol like Driver Lim. He didn’t have anywhere to go. According to the language of his weary clothes she thought he didn’t even have money.

“When did you quit?” Namjoo wondered.

Sehun seemed to hesitate. She waited. “Several weeks after you left.”

“Why?” she pried. He had no reason to. The Suh manor provided him everything. Jineol liked him no matter what, even if Yena was attracted to him. Namjoo never completely understood the roots of that.

“Just…” he let the word linger, “because.”

Which answered nothing for her. Whatever. Maybe he was uncomfortable sharing his reason with her. It really had nothing to do with her anyway. That was his problem.

“Where are you going?” Namjoo asked, because the way they were headed was not in the direction of her house.

“Somewhere.”

“You seem to know how to navigate around now.” She commented noticing he didn’t use a GPS monitor.

“I’ve gotten used to the streets.” He grinned proudly.

The heavy flow of traffic delayed their turn at the green light. They ended up waiting several minutes just to make a left turn where Sehun swiftly pulled into a parallel slot.

“Here?” Namjoo asked unbuckling her seatbelt.

Getting out of the car she peered around. A line of buildings of eateries and dessert shops ran along the length of the street. Many people were out today considering the fact that school was out and wage earners were completing their shifts. On the way home they might decide to grab some grub and sugar. Hang out, do whatever they did.

Traffic blew past nonstop.

“This way.” Sehun walked past.

She followed, curiously eyeballing a candy shop with various sweets. “Where are you going?”

“You don’t remember this place?” he asked.

Namjoo glanced at him. Frowning a bit. She had absolutely no idea. Was he pulling her leg or something?

“Here.” Sehun stopped and turned, pointing at a glass door.

Namjoo peered in through the side window. At cute tables customers were enjoying their various cones or bowls of sundaes. A row of ice cream buckets was on display beneath glass counters. An employee in a white apron was currently helping scoop a cone for a customer.

“Ice cream.” He said. Namjoo looked at him again not knowing what he was going on about. “You didn’t know it was here, remember?”

It was slowly coming back to her. A stubborn and minimal memory that was nearly coming to the fore.

“You saw it on the way when we went to rent a movie,” Sehun reminded.

At once the frown eased away and formed a silent oval. Suddenly recalling.

“Come on.” Sehun pulled the door open and waited for her.

A blast of cool air chilled her. She could smell the scents of various flavors as she walked up to peer at the menu on the wall. An employee came to greet her on the other side and Namjoo randomly picked a large cup of Oreo sundae. Sehun bought the classic vanilla cone and they chose a seat by the wall.

She didn’t wait before diving into the sweet delicacy. Her stomach hummed favorably. She didn’t indulge in sweets often, but having it once wouldn’t hurt her bank. She was out anyway and she couldn’t ask Sehun to pay for her.

“Actually,” Namjoo started after several bites that numbed her tongue, “I handed Jineol the divorce papers that day. He was angry I went to the courthouse. His family is affiliated with a complex number of peoples in different positions. Seeing me could have passed on a rumor.” Namjoo shrugged, “I felt really relieved that day, like I finally plucked out a thorn in my side that’s been poking me for a long time.”

“I never liked him.” Spite glowed in his voice.

Namjoo scoffed.

“Don’t laugh.” His brows furrowed. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoo said.

“He’s a jerk. He’s the scum of the earth. He’s a heartless bastard. He was married to you, but he always kept his eyes elsewhere.”

An amused grin crept across her face. She couldn’t stop it. His sudden outburst was so unexpected that she strangely wanted to laugh.

“What?” he asked offended.

“Nothing.” She shook her head.

“You’re enjoying this?” he huffed.

“No, of course not.” Namjoo struggled to stop trying to smile wider. “I just didn’t know you thought of him like that.”

“Because he should have respected you.”

Regretfully smiling, Namjoo stared out the side window a table away. Continuous people passed without looking in. Cars swept across the roads in colors. Above the sky was high and clouds bloomed over needlepoint skyscrapers.

“He wasn’t always so mean.” Namjoo quietly reminisced.

“You always deserved better.” She glanced back at him. Nothing she expected to hear from him.

Grinning, she agreed, “Yea. I feel better now than I ever did.”

They left after she finished her bowl, but Sehun tossed his cone away into an available garbage bin outside. They paced along the street peeking into different parlors, but Namjoo didn’t want anything. Best not get any cavity from too much sugar intake. A visit to the dentist to correct that would cost a lot.

Returning to the car Namjoo told him to take her home. She wanted to rest now. Call it a day before the next began. On the weekend she needed to wash her clothes and go through her savings. Decide how much she could spend the following week on food before depositing a sum into Jineol’s bank.

She always had something to do.

“What are you going to do when you get back?” he asked.

“Rest, of course.” Namjoo stared out the window.

“Are you hungry?” he wondered. “I mean, ice cream doesn’t count as a real meal.” After a pause he added, “Right?”

“Then,” Namjoo said, “how about the eatery?”

“Ok.” Agreeing he drove toward her bustling neighborhood and parked nearby.

Arriving at the restaurant Namjoo frequented they ordered the same special. Sehun ordered beef ribs and spicy green stuffed chili pepper. They paid half and half again.

“Thanks for the ride today,” Namjoo said outside. “I appreciate it.”

She expected him to say bye then and there. She would head home, wash up, and watch TV for an hour or two and sleep. Instead, Sehun offered, “I’ll walk you home.”

Namjoo scoffed, beguiled. Something about his offer tickled her in a good way. “You’re being chivalric.”

“I don’t think it is.” He quietly murmured.

“There’s nothing to see around here.” Namjoo started walking toward the alleyway. “A lot of kids spend their evenings at an arcade down the block. Sometimes you’ll see them fighting outside. Other than that, you’ll find more drama downtown.”

“That doesn’t frighten you?”

“That’s nothing.” Namjoo waved the concern away. “Like I said, nothing happens around here.” As they neared the alley, she pointed out her daily bus stop. “Number 83 takes me straight to the library.” She grinned at him. “I’ve seen the driver so much, we’re even friends.”

“Seems you get along well.”

Namjoo shrugged. “What about you? Do you drive every day? You were at the bus stop the other day. So, no?”

“Not every day.” Sehun said. “I like to walk.”

“Right,” Namjoo recalled. “You work out.”

His eyes slid away. “Not really.”

Namjoo crookedly grinned amused. “Well, we’re here.” Pausing she craned her neck to look up at the rooftop. “You didn’t have to walk me, but thanks anyway. You probably work tomorrow, so get some rest.”

Unlocking the gate, she parted half of it. As soon as she took a step in Sehun said, “It’s not just because I didn’t like him.”

She turned around to see him still standing where he was. Clutching the gate in her grasp she was curious what he had to say. He was filled with so many surprises today.

“I’m glad you left him. You were killing yourself everyday it was honestly harder to watch by the day. I always thought you should have done it earlier, but then you did it so unexpectedly. You didn’t even really say goodbye. And after…it just got really quiet.” Sehun divulged. “I missed you.”